The Massacre of the French Protestants: De Gourgues and Menendez
The same pourparlers began. But this time a blacker treachery was adopted. Menendez did not himself receive the officer sent to treat. He deputed a certain Vallemonde. This creature received the French deputy with unexpected civility. His captain, he said, was a man of extraordinary clemency. It was true that Caroline had fallen, but the garrison, women, and children were all put on board ship, with provisions, and were now on their way to France. Finally, if the French laid down their arms, he, Vallemonde, would pledge his word of honor on the sacred cross, which he kissed devoutly, that all their lives should be spared.
It is not clear how many of the French accepted the conditions. A certain number refused them, and escaped into the woods. What is certain is that Ribaut, with nearly all his men, were tied back to back, four together. Those who said they were Catholics were set on one side; the rest were all massacred as they stood. A rage for slaughter -- the blood-thirst --- seized the Spanish soldiers. They fell upon their victims, and stabbed and hacked both the living and the dead. The air was horrible with their oaths and cries. The work of murder was soon over. In a very few moments there was not a cry, nor a sound, nor a movement, among the whole four hundred prisoners now lying upon the ground, the maddened soldiers still stabbing their lifeless bodies. Outside the circle of the slaughtered and the slaughterers stood the priest, Mendoza, encouraging, approving, exhorting the butchers. With him, calm, serene, and joyful, with a prayer of thanksgiving on his lips, stood the murderer, Menendez.
The slaughter completed, they set up enormous piles of wood and burned the bodies on them. On the trees near the scene of the massacre Menendez caused to be inscribed, "Slaughtered not as Frenchmen, but as Lutherans." As for the corpse of Ribaut, he had it flayed, and sent the skin to Europe, with cuttings from the beard, as gifts to his friends.
Those who had escaped to the woods built a small fort, defended themselves, were offered terms of surrender, and were all sent to the galleys. The reception of this news in France raised a storm of indignation. As the court made no movement of reprisal, the French sailors took revenge into their own hands. Fast-sailing privateers were sent out, which captured the rich Spanish galleons and inflicted enormous losses. English buccaneers followed the example, and Spain paid dearly in treasure for the bloody act of Menendez. One soldier, Dominique de Gourgues, who had been in the Spanish galleys and hated the Spaniards vehemently, resolved on a more direct revenge. With difficulty he equipped three small ships which he manned with one hundred and eighty men. The purpose of his expedition was kept secret; only the captains of his ships knew of it. It was in the early part of 1568 that he appeared off the coast of Florida. He landed his men, gained the alliance of the natives, who bitterly hated the Spaniards, and began a painful and difficult march overland, attended by thousands of Indian warriors.
The Spaniards were extending their fortifications outside Caroline itself. At one place the lines had only been drawn, and the works as yet were only just commenced. Here the attack was to take place.
The story reads almost exactly like that of the Spaniards when they took the fort by surprise. Entirely without suspicion, the garrison were taking their dinner. Suddenly, a musket-shot, and the cry of "The French! the French!" There were sixty men in this, the outwork. They were all killed. But there remained the second fort. De Gourgues turned the cannon on it, and a lively artillery fight began. The Floridans at this moment emerged from the woods. A detachment of French attacked the fort in the rear. The Spaniards, ignorant of the number of the enemy, lost their heads. The second fort was taken with a rush, and all the Spaniards killed except fifteen, whom De Gourgues ordered to be bound and kept in safety for the moment. There yet remained Fort Caroline itself. Here there were three hundred combatant men. De Gourgues surrounded the fort with his Indians, and prevented any spy from coming out, so that the besieged had no notion of the numbers of their assailants. The commandant, in surprise and indecision, allowed two days to pass before doing anything. Then he sent out a spy disguised as an Indian. He was caught, and, being brought before De Gourgues, he had the imprudence to confess that the garrison was horribly discouraged, believing the French to be two thousand strong. Thereupon De Gourgues resolved upon an immediate attack.