The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 73, November, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and PoliticsVarious
History
The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 12, No. 73, November, 1863: A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics
Various
American periodicals
The dead calm continued. "We were all very tired," says the chaplain,
"and I above all, with praying to God for a fair wind. To-day, at about
two in the afternoon, He took pity on us, and sent us a breeze." Before
night they saw land,--the faint line of forest, traced along the watery
horizon, that marked the coast of Florida. But where in all this vast
monotony was the lurking-place of the French? Menendez anchored, and
sent fifty men ashore, who presently found a band of Indians in the
woods, and gained from them the needed information. He stood northward,
till, on the afternoon of Tuesday, the fourth of September, he descried
four ships anchored near the mouth of a river. It was the river St.
John's, and the ships were four of Ribaut's squadron. The prey was in
sight. The Spaniards prepared for battle, and bore down upon the
Lutherans; for, with them, all reformers alike were branded with the
name of the arch-heretic. Slowly, before the faint breeze, the ships
glided on their way; but while, excited and impatient, the fierce crews
watched the decreasing space, and while they were still three leagues
from their prize, the air ceased to stir, the sails flapped against the
mast, a black cloud with thunder rose above the coast, and the warm rain
of the South descended on the breathless sea. It was dark before the
wind moved again, and the ships resumed their course. At half past
eleven they reached the French. The San Pelayo slowly moved to windward
of Ribaut's flag-ship, the Trinity, and anchored very near her. The
other ships took similar stations. While these preparations were making,
a work of two hours, the men labored in silence, and the French,
thronging their gangways, looked on in equal silence. "Never, since I
came into the world," writes the chaplain, "did I know such a
stillness."
It was broken, at length, by a trumpet from the deck of the San Pelayo.
A French trumpet answered. Then Menendez, "with much courtesy," says his
Spanish eulogist, demanded, "Gentlemen, whence does this fleet come?"
"From France," was the reply.
"What are you doing here?" pursued the Adelantado.
"Bringing soldiers and supplies for a fort which the King of France has
in this country, and for many others which he soon will have."
"Are you Catholics or Lutherans?"
Many voices cried together, "Lutherans, of the new religion"; then, in
their turn, they demanded who Menendez was, and whence he came. The
latter answered,--
"I am Pedro Menendez, General of the fleet of the King of Spain, Don
Philip the Second, who have come to this country to hang and behead all
Lutherans whom I shall find by land or sea, according to instructions
from my King, so precise that I have power to pardon none whomsoever;
and these commands I shall fulfil, as you shall know. At daybreak I
shall board your ships, and if I find there any Catholic, he shall be
well treated; but every heretic shall die."
The French with one voice raised a cry of wrath and defiance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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