The Huguenots in France had not forgotten their friends in Florida, though the dissensions at home had turned their attention away from all but the plottings and schemings about them. Desiring to succor and strengthen the colony, Coligni had secured a fleet of seven vessels, four being of considerable size. These he placed in command of Captain Ribault, who had taken out the first expedition. Ribault quickly recruited a company of six hundred and fifty persons, among whom were said to be many representatives of good families, about five hundred being soldiers.

The fleet sailed from Dieppe in May, 1565, and after a long but uneventful voyage reached Florida in safety.

By some means information had been sent to the Spanish Court that an expedition was fitting out for the succor of the Huguenot colony in Florida. It has been said that this knowledge emanated from those about the French sovereign, though it is by no means necessary that it must have come from such a source. The enemies of the Protestants were numerous and bitter all over France, and the recruiting and equipment of the expedition could have been no secret.

Philip II. determined not to allow any encroachment on the territory, which he claimed by the right of his subjects’ former expeditions of discovery and by gift from the Holy See. Not only was he unwilling to see Florida occupied by foreigners, but of all persons none were more objectionable than Protestants, upon whom he looked as upon those without the pale of Christianity, who only lived as enemies of God, to disseminate a wicked creed, and war upon His holy faith. The very instrument for the execution of the plans of this bigoted monarch seems to have been at hand. Don Pedro Menendez de Avilla, had acquired wealth and distinction as a naval officer. This knight was now desirous of the honor of driving the French from Florida. Menendez was of aristocratic birth, a man of great firmness of will and tenacity of purpose; a brave commander, with a superior sagacity and knowledge of human nature, and withal a most zealous and devoted Catholic. The name of Menendez has been held up to the world as the symbol of all that is malignant, heartless, and cruel. If we are to judge of men’s actions in the past by the motives that prompted them, as we are asked and expected to do in all things which happen in our own day, then by such a test the actions of Menendez must be less harshly considered. That he believed the rooting out of the Protestant colonization and their faith from the shores of the New World was God’s work, there can be no doubt. His devotion to the propagation of the Catholic religion in Florida, and the sacrifices which he made to extend and continue the teachings of that faith, prove beyond a doubt his sincerity and fervent zeal. His conciliatory measures toward the savages so entirely within his power, and his efforts to instruct the tribes all over Florida, which met with such marked success, will go far to prove that his nature was not wantonly cruel. The purpose of his expedition, the object for which he had enlisted nearly three thousand persons, transporting them into an unknown continent, and, as is said, investing of his own means nearly five million dollars, was to prevent the propagation of heretical doctrines on the shores of the New World. As Menendez expressed it, it was “to prevent the Lutherans from establishing their abominable and unreasonable sect among the Indians.” It should also be remembered that an edict of Ribault’s had been published when he undertook his expedition, “that no Catholic at the peril of his life should go in his fleet, nor any Catholic books be taken.”

Besides it is not improbable that the French prisoners, who were nearly all put to death by Menendez, were destroyed in the belief that by this course alone could his own position in his isolated location be made safe.

The little band with LaudonnÈre were waiting for fair winds to sail away from Florida in the ship they had purchased of the English when the fleet under Ribault arrived off the mouth of the river May, on the 29th of August, 1565. Four of the seven vessels were too large to enter the river, but the other three were brought up to the settlement, and at once began to land the supplies. Ribault now assumed the command, and all thought of departure was dismissed. This course was most acceptable to LaudonnÈre, who had only consented to abandon the plan of colonization from the force of his straitened circumstances and the demands of his company. He had declared that it made his heart grieve to leave “a place so pleasant that those who are melancholic would be forced to change their humor,” and to possess which they had given up home, and friends, and fortune, and undergone perils of land and water.

While the fleet of Ribault was making its long voyage across the Atlantic, Menendez was pushing forward his equipment of a fleet to follow and expel the French from Florida. If he succeeded he was to have the title of marquis, a large tract of land, and the freedom of all the ports of New Spain. A salary of ten thousand dollars and the title of Adelantado was conferred upon him at the outset. He secured a fleet of thirty-four vessels, which he fully equipped, providing the means from his private fortune. But one vessel, with two hundred and fifty soldiers and their equipment, was provided by the crown. Learning the object of the expedition, volunteers flocked to his standard until he soon had a force of nearly three thousand men, including a party of twenty-six monks and priests. Impatient of delay Menendez put to sea on the 1st of July, with his flag-ship the El Pelayo and about two-thirds of his fleet, ordering the remainder to rendezvous at Porto Rico as soon as their equipment was completed. Scarcely had the fleet of Menendez left the port of Cadiz before a severe storm was encountered that separated the vessels, and sank and disabled so many that on his arrival at Porto Rico, on the 9th of August, he found but six ships under his command. The courage of their leader was undaunted, though a general despair pervaded the fleet. In the destruction wrought by the mighty elements he pictured the hand of God, and revived the spirits of his followers by the assurance that the Almighty had reduced their numbers that “His own arm might achieve the victory, and His glory be exalted.” Learning that a Spanish vessel bearing letters to himself had been intercepted by the French fleet, he determined to sail for Florida at once, without waiting for the remainder of the fleet. On the 28th of August, the day set in the calendar of the Romish Church to the honor of St. Augustine, the fleet came in sight of the Florida coast, probably near Cape Canaveral. Here they learned the location of the French colony, and sailing northward, on the 4th of September came in sight of the four French ships, which lay off the mouth of the river May (St. Johns). During the night a council was held on board the vessel of the Spanish admiral, in which the majority of the captains urged a delay until the remainder of the fleet could arrive from Spain. Menendez courageously refused to listen to such a plan, and gave orders for an attack at daybreak. The Frenchmen, however, displayed more of discretion than boldness, and upon the approach of the Spanish fleet, put out to sea. According to LaudonnÈre’s account, “the Spaniards seeing that they could not reach them by reason that the French ships were better of sail than theirs, and also because they wou’d not leave the coast, turned back and went on shore in the river Seloy, which we call the river of Dolphins, eight or ten leagues from where we were. Our ships returned and reported that they had seen three Spanish ships enter the river of Dolphins, and the other three remained in the road; further, that they had put their soldiers, their victuals, and munitions on land.... And we understood by King Emola, one of our neighbors, which arrived upon the handling of these matters, that the Spaniards in great numbers were gone on shore, which had taken possession of the houses of Seloy, in the most part whereof they had placed their negroes, which they had brought to labor, and also lodged themselves and had cast divers trenches about them.”[4]

The Spanish priest Mendoza gives the following account of the foundation of St. Augustine: “On Saturday, the 8th day of September, the day of the Nativity of our Lady, the general disembarked with numerous banners displayed, trumpets and other martial music resounding, and amid salvos of artillery. Carrying a cross I proceeded at the head, chanting the hymn Te Deum Laudamus. The general marched straight up to the cross, together with all those who accompanied him; and kneeling they all kissed the cross. A great number of Indians looked upon these ceremonies, and imitated whatever they saw done. Thereupon the general took possession of the country in the name of his Majesty. All the officers then took an oath of allegiance to him as their general, and as Adelantado of the whole country.”

Near the site of the Indian village of Seloy was thus laid the foundation of the first town built by the Caucasian in America. At this time and place was also introduced that curse and blight upon the fairest portion of our country, African slavery, whose train of evils has not been confined to the Southern negroes, but has extended to the white race, and throughout the length and breadth of our common country.

Especially to Florida has this iniquitous system been the cause of unnumbered woes. For an account of the misfortunes which slavery wrought upon this State prior to the rebellion of 1861, the reader has only to consult Gidding’s “Exiles of Florida.” It is certain that African slavery was at this time introduced into North America, though several writers have evinced a desire to overlook this important fact of history. The evidence, however, is too plain for denial, the original agreement with Philip the Second having granted to Menendez the right to take with him five hundred negro slaves. Whether or not he took this number is not material.

In commemoration of the day on which he arrived off the coast, Menendez gave to the new town the name of St. Augustine, which it has continued to bear for more than three hundred years. The precise spot where the Spaniards landed is uncertain, though it is not unlikely that it was near the ground on which the Franciscans erected their house, now the United States barrack.

While Menendez was making haste to fortify his position at St. Augustine, Ribault was preparing to descend the coast, and by a sudden attack capture the Spanish fleet and cut off the settlement. This plan was ineffectually opposed by LaudonnÈre. His opposition to the plan of action adopted may have been the cause of his failure to accompany the expedition. Removing the artillery and garrison to his fleet, and leaving in the fort the noncombatants, including women, children, and invalids, to the number of two hundred and forty under the command of LaudonnÈre, Ribault set sail to attack the Spaniards on the 10th of September.

They bore rapidly down until in sight of the Spanish vessels anchored off the bar of St. Augustine. Before the enemy were reached, and the fleet collected for action, Ribault found himself in the midst of one of those gales which occur with suddenness and violence on the coast of Florida at different periods of every fall. The tempest rendered his ships unmanageable, and finally wrecked them all at different points on the coast south of Matanzas Inlet.

Menendez had watched the French ships as they approached St. Augustine. Observing the severity of the storm he was satisfied that the fleet could not beat back in its teeth should they escape shipwreck, and therefore their return was impossible for several days after the storm should cease. Determined to seize the favorable opportunity to attack the fort on the St. Johns, he gathered a picked force, and with eight days’ provisions began a march across the country under the guidance of two Indians who were unfriendly to the French. The march proved difficult on account of the pouring rains and their ignorance of the country. The swamps and “baygalls,” many of them waist-deep with water, proved so embarrassing that it took three days of laborious marching amidst great discomforts to cover the distance of fifty miles between the two posts. Immediately on the departure of the ships, LaudonnÈre had set to work with the force at his command to repair the breeches in the fort. These had been made when they expected to return to France. He also began to so discipline his men as to be a guard to the post. For several days the regular watches were kept up by the captains who had been appointed, but as the gale continued they began to feel confident that no attack would be made while the weather was so inclement, and therefore ceased to be vigilant. On the night of September 19th the gale had been very severe, and at daybreak, finding the captain of the watch was in his quarters, the sentinels went under shelter. At this very moment the soldiers under Menendez were in sight, kneeling in prayer. From prayers they rushed to the attack; gaining entrance into the fort without much opposition, they began an indiscriminate slaughter. LaudonnÈre with twenty men sprang from the walls and escaped into the woods, from whence he made his way across the marshes to a small vessel in the river, which had been left in charge of Captain Jaques Ribault, a son of the admiral. From thence they proceeded directly to France without making an effort to find their companions of Ribault’s fleet or to learn their fate.

An order from Menendez to spare the women, children, and cripples, put a stop to the massacre, though it is said, “to escape death they were forced to submit to slavery.” The French account says that all the men who escaped instant death were hung to the limbs of neighboring trees. This may be exaggerated, but it is certain that the Spaniards suspended the bodies of some of the Frenchmen, and set up this inscription, “No por Franceses, sino por Luteranos” (we do not do this as unto Frenchmen, but as unto Lutherans). Menendez found in the fort six trunks filled “with books well bound and gilt, from which they did not say mass, but preached their Lutheran doctrines every evening; all of which books he directed to be burned.”