SONNET.
Mark yonder gentle doe! her one loved fawn
Close at her side, just where the leafy wood,
With all its summer charms of solitude,
Steps o’er the verdant edges of our lawn!
Mark their shy grace at this chaste hour of dawn!
While culling spicy birch-twigs, their cropped food
Dew-drops impearl, and morning shadows brood
O’er dells, towards which their timid feet are drawn.
Thus have I seen, within a cloister’s shade,
A widowed mother and one tender child
Close at her side; one habit on them laid;
Both, by a kindred exaltation mild,
Led to the service of the Mother Maid,
With her to seek Heaven’s peace through pathways undefiled.
DOMINIQUE DE GOURGUES,
THE AVENGER OF THE HUGUENOTS IN FLORIDA, A CATHOLIC.
The traveller between Bordeaux and Bayonne who takes an eastward train at Morcenx, will arrive in less than an hour at Mont-de-Marsan, a small town of four or five thousand inhabitants, on the borders of the Landes, at the confluence of the Douze and Midou, which form the Midouze. Some say it was founded on the site of an old temple of Mars, by Charlemagne, on his return from Roncesvalles. If so, the place was afterwards destroyed by the Saracen or Norman invaders, for the fifth Vicomte de Marsan, desirous of purging the forest of Maremsin of the robbers who endangered the lives and property of the merchants and pilgrims who passed that way, built a castle at the junction of the two rivers, on a spot which bore a name of ominous meaning: Maü-pas, or Mauvais-pas—doubtless a bad place to fall into, on account of the frequent robberies. Around this castle gathered the vassals of the neighboring abbey of S. Sever for protection. They came from the parish of S. Pierre-du-Mont, and brought their devotion to S. Peter with them. The arms of the town are still two keys en pal, between the letters M. M. (Mons Martianus); and the parish church that stood till the Revolution, was dedicated to S. Peter, where the mayor, before entering on his functions, took the following curious oath in three languages—the Gascon, Latin, and French:
Per Diu et per aquet monsegné Saint Pé,
Jou juri que bon et lejau a la bille jou seré
Lous bens daquere jou proucureré,
Et lous maux esbiteré.
Las causes doubtouses dab conselt jou feré,
Justice tan au petit com au gros jou faré,
Com an heit lous autes maires et millou si jou sé,
Ansi me adjudé Diu et monsegné Saint Pé.
Per Deum et sanctum Petrum juro
Quod urbi bonus et legalis ero,
Ejus bona procurabo,
Ejus mala vitabo:
Dubia faciam cum consilio,
Et justitiam tam parvo quam magno,
Sicut alii magistratus et melius si scio,
Sic non ero sine Dei ac sancti Petri adjutorio.
Je jure par le Dieu vivant et par Saint Pierre,
Que jè seray bon et légal à la ville;
Que j’en procureray les biens et eviteray les maux,
Que je ne feray jamais les choses douteuses sans conseil,
Que je feray justice, au petit comme au grand,
De même que les autres maires, et mieux si je scay;
Ainsi me puisse toujours ayder mon Dieu et Saint Pierre.[162]
In 1256, the town passed into the possession of the lords of Béarn, and to keep it in due subjection Gaston Phœbus built the castle of Nou-li-bos, i.e., You-do-not-wish-it-there, referring to the opposition of the inhabitants—a name that recalls the famous Quiquengrogne erected by Anne of Bretagne to keep the town of S. Malo in check, and the Bridle built by Louis XII. at the entrance of the harbor of Genoa.
Calvinism, of course, took some root here in the time of Jeanne d’Albret. Theodore Beza sent preachers to win over the people, but the Catholics organized under the Seigneur de Ravignan and for a while kept the Huguenots from any excesses. Montgomery, however, soon swept over the country, sacking all the churches and monasteries, many of which he razed to the ground. Among these was the convent of Bayries, a community of Clarist nuns in the vicinity of Mont-de-Marsan, founded in 1270 by Gaston Phœbus and his wife Amate, which numbered Catherine d’Albret, a cousin of Francis I., among its abbesses. Marie d’Albret, another relative of the king’s, was abbess when the marriage between him and Eleanore of Austria took place here, July 6, 1530. This house of historic interest was stripped of every valuable by the Huguenots, and then burned to the ground, the nuns barely escaping with their lives.
The redoubtable Monluc soon avenged all these sacrileges by taking Mont-de-Marsan, and despatching all who opposed the passage of his troops. The few Huguenot soldiers left, he threw from the windows of the formidable Nou-li-bos, to avenge, as he said, the brother-in-arms, whose officers were treacherously butchered by the Huguenots after the capitulation of Orthez.
This castle of terrible memory has a pleasanter association, for in it passed the early childhood of the poet François Le Poulchre, the king’s knight, and lord of La Motte-Messemé, who boasted of descending from the ancient Roman consul, Appius Pulcher, who displayed such conspicuous valor under the famous Lucullus,
“Un Appius Pulcher, gentilhomme Romain,
Duquel s’est maintenu le nom de main en main
Jusques au temps présent, jusqu’à moi qui le porte.”
He took for his device: Suum cuique pulchrum, in allusion to his name.
As his father was superintendent of the household of Margaret, queen of Navarre, sister of Francis I., François Le Poulchre had the honor of having that king for his godfather, and Margaret for his godmother. The latter conceived such an affection for him that she kept him at her castle at Marsan, and made him eat at her table as soon as he was old enough. He says himself:
“J’eus l’honneur pour parrain d’avoir le roi François,
Pour marraine sa sœur, Royne des Navarrois,
Qui me favorisa jusque là elle mesme
Me tenir sur les fons le iour de mon baptesme,
Faict par un grand preslat l’evesque de Loron. (Oloron).
…
“Me faisant mesmement à sa table manger
En présence des siens, ou de quelque estranger
Qui peut y arriver, ne changeant onc de place.”
With little taste for study Le Poulchre left college at an early age to embrace the profession of arms.
“Avecque ce grand duc, non moins vaillant que bon,
Race de Saint Louis, dit Louis de Bourbon,”
—that is to say, under the great Condé. He has given us his own life and adventures under the title of Les honnestes Loisirs du Seigneur de la Motte-Messemé, which is divided into seven books bearing the title of the seven planets, as the history of Herodotus bears the name of the nine muses, and the poetical Zodiac of Marcellus Palingenesis bears the names of the twelve signs of the zodiac. To compose it, he retired to the Château de Bouzemont in Lorraine. We trust he was more skilful in the use of the sword than of the pen. One of his sonnets, however, is pleasing. It is like a single flower in a barren parterre. It is addressed to the dame de ses pensées, to whom, after acknowledging she hears Mass devoutly, fasts with due strictness, goes to confession regularly, and is always charitable to the poor, he says:
“Vous faictes tout cela, mais ce seroit resver
De croire que cela tout seul vous pust sauver.
Ne vous y arrestez pas, je vous prie, Madame;
D’aller en Paradis le plus certain moyen
C’est de rendre à chacun ce que l’on a du sien:
Rendez-moi donc mon cœur, vous sauverez vostre ame;”
—You do all this, but it is a dream to suppose this alone can save you. Do not stop here, madam, I pray you; the surest means of gaining paradise is to restore to every one what belongs to him: Give me back my heart, then, and you will save your soul!
Among other historic memories evoked by Le Poulchre in his seven cantos, he relates how, going to kiss the hand of the young King Charles IX., Anne d’Este,
“Veufve du grand Lorrain,
Qu’avait meschantement d’une traisteresse main
Blecé d’un coup de plomb Poltrot, son domestique,”
—came not to seek vengeance on Poltrot, for he had already been drawn and quartered before St. Jean de Grève, but on Coligny, whom, in the presence of the king, the Cardinal de Guise, and others, in the nave of the chapel of the château de Vincennes, she accused of being an accomplice in the crime of February 18, 1563.
It was not long after this the king,
“Se hastant de traverser les Lanes
Pour aller voir sa sœur la Reyne des Espagnes,”
stopped at Mont-de-Marsan, where he made Le Poulchre escuyer d’escuyrie ordinaire, as the poet does not fail to record, and shortly after he received the collar of knighthood from the same royal hand.
The château of Gaston Phœbus, which had received so many princes and princesses within its walls, and been the witness of so many tragedies, was, after being taken anew from the Huguenots, totally demolished by the order of Louis XIII A charming promenade, called the Pépinière, surrounded by the Douze, is now the spot.
Mont-de-Marsan was formerly a centre of considerable trade, and the entrepôt of the country around. Wine, grain, turpentine, wool, etc., were brought here to be sent down the Midouze. This was a source of considerable revenue to the place, and explains the extensive warehouses, now unused in consequence of the railway and the diversion of trade. There is still a little wharf, where are moored several barks laden with wood or turpentine, but there is not business enough to disturb the quietness of the place. No one would suppose it had ever been the theatre of terrible events. The most striking feature is a peculiar oblong court, surrounded by houses of uniform style, with numerous balconies for the spectators to witness the bull-fights occasionally held here—an amusement that accords with the fiery nature and pastoral pursuits of the people around, and is still clung to in several places in the Landes and among the Pyrenees. This square is, by a singular anomaly, called the Place St. Roch, from a saint regarded throughout the region as the patron of animals; and they certainly have need of his protection in a place where they are exposed to such cruelty.
Such are some of the characteristics and memories of the small inland town in which was born Dominique de Gourgues, the leader of the celebrated expedition against the Spaniards in Florida. He was the third son of Jean de Gourgues and Isabella de Lau, his wife.
He was born in the year 1537, in an age of religious conflict, when party spirit ran too high for any one to remain neutral, whatever their grade of piety. It might therefore seem surprising there should ever have been any doubt as to the religious convictions of De Gourgues. Because he was the avenger of the massacre of the Huguenots in Florida, he has often been identified with the Protestant party. Because he lived in an age when provincial and sectarian spirit often prevailed over patriotism, it has been taken for granted that sympathy with the religious sentiments of the victims of the Spaniards could alone have induced him to sell his property to provide for a distant and dangerous expedition that would never repay him even if successful. In a work entitled, La France Protestante, by MM. Haag, a kind of dictionary of Protestant celebrities in France, issued in 1853 by a proselyting press, whose works are everywhere to be found, De Gourgues is made a Huguenot. No proof is given, no doubt expressed—the surest and shortest way of carrying one’s point in these days. Assurance always produces a certain effect even on the thoughtfully-minded. They take it for granted it has some real foundation.
The Revue Protestante[163] makes the same assertion, appealing to De Thou and other historians.
Francis Parkman, in his Pioneers of France in the New World, says: “There was a gentleman of Mont-de-Marsan, Dominique de Gourgues, a soldier of ancient birth and high renown. That he was a Huguenot is not certain. The Spanish annalist Barcia calls him a terrible heretic; but the French Jesuit, Charlevoix, anxious the faithful should share the glory of his exploits, affirms, that, like his ancestors before him, he was a good Catholic. If so, his faith sat lightly upon him, and Catholic or heretic, he hated the Spaniards with a mortal hate.”
The English made the Catholic Church responsible for the massacre of the Huguenots. The account of Le Moyne, published in England under the patronage of Raleigh, inflamed anew the public mind against Catholicity, and the terrible words of the Spanish leader, El que fuere herege morira, were regarded as the echo of the church. Consequently the avengers of the deed were supposed to be necessarily Protestants—not only De Gourgues, but all his followers. Nor is this all. The whole family of the latter is said to have been converted to Calvinism in the XVIth century.
M. le Vicomte de Gourgues, the present representative of the family, desirous of vindicating the orthodoxy of his ancestors, and, in particular, of so illustrious a relative as Dominique de Gourgues, has given to the public incontrovertible proofs that the whole family was eminently Catholic, that Dominique lived and died in the faith, and that his expedition to Florida was a patriotic deed in which religious zeal had no part. He felt the anger of a man of honor against the cruelty of the Spaniards. A great national injury was to be avenged, and he was too good a soldier not to wish to be foremost in the conflict. And perhaps some private motives excited him to vengeance, for he had been taken himself by the Spaniards, and narrowly escaped death at their hands, and could therefore feel for these new victims of their barbarity. Moreover, his expedition was the expression of public sentiment in France concerning the massacre—the mere outburst of the electric current that ran over the country at such an insult to the honor of France. The assertion that De Gourgues was a Protestant is a modern invention without a shadow of foundation. None of the old French historians express any doubt as to his orthodoxy. Even the romances in which he figures represent him as a Catholic, as if his religion were a prominent feature in his character. Some years ago, a novel was published in the Siècle called “La Peine du Talion,” of which the Chevalier de Gourgues is the hero, and on his Catholicity turns the interest of the story. He is represented as a brilliant cavalier who has served in the wars of Italy, and is now an officer in the service of the Duke of Guise, whose favor he enjoys. An attachment is formed between him and Estiennette de Nérac, whose hand he requests in marriage. The Seigneur de Nérac expresses great surprise that Messire Dominique should forget the insuperable abyss there is between an ardent Catholic in the service of the house of Lorraine and his Protestant daughter.
But for more serious proofs. And first let us examine the orthodoxy of Dominique de Gourgues’ family.
That his parents were Catholics is proved by the list of those who appeared in the ban and arrière-ban at Mont-de-Marsan, March 4, 1537. “Noble Jean de Gourgues, Seigneur de Gaube and Monlezun, present at the convocation held in this town by order of the king.” And Isabella de Lau, his wife, requests in her will “to be buried in the church of the convent of the Cordeliers at Mont-de-Marsan,[164] before the chapel of the Conception where the ancestors of the said De Gourgues are buried.” It is sure, therefore, that Dominique was baptized in the Catholic Church at Mont-de-Marsan.
Dominique and his brother Ogier left their native place in early life and established themselves at Bordeaux. The former was never married, and seems to have made his home with his brother, to whom he was greatly attached. At the château de Vayries there were, a few years ago, four old evergreen trees of some foreign species, at the corners of the lawn before the terrace, said by tradition to have been planted by the hero of Florida.
Ogier became king’s counsellor in the council of state, and president of the treasury in Guienne, and, after serving his country faithfully under five kings, died full of years and honors at his house in Bordeaux, “without leaving the like of his quality in Guyenne.” He took part in all the affairs of the province, in the accounts of which we find many things significant of his religious convictions. Monluc mentions him in his Commentaries, as offering to procure wheat and cattle from the Landes, on his own credit, when it was proposed to fortify the coast to defeat the projects of the Huguenots. He placed his property as much as possible at the disposal of the king. He manifested great interest in the reduction of La Rochelle, and lent twenty-three hundred livres to enable the Baron de la Gardie to despatch his galleys to the siege, as is shown by the following letter from the king:
“For the payment of my galleys which I have ordered Baron de la Gardie, the general, to despatch promptly to the coast of Bretagne on a service of great importance, … I write praying you to advance to Sieur Felix the sums I have assigned for this purpose, … trusting that, as in the past you have never spared your means and substance in my service, you will spare them still less in this urgent necessity. I have been advised, however, by the said Sieur de la Gardie that you have not yet lent your aid, which I am persuaded proceeds from want of means; but well knowing the credit you have in my city of Bordeaux, and trusting to your good-will, I send this line to beg you, in continuation of the good and acceptable services I have heretofore received from you in public affairs, and on other occasions which have presented themselves, to do me likewise this other in so extreme a need, to advance and place in the hands of the said Felix the sums I have assigned in aid, not only of the said Sieur de la Gardie, but the other captains of my said galleys, which I will pay and reimburse you, or those who by your favor and credit shall have advanced them.… (Hoping) that you have lessened in no way the extreme affection you have had till the present, in all that relates to my service, which I will not forget in due time or fail to recognize, … to gratify you in every way possible, … I finish praying God, Sr. de Gourgues, to have you in his holy keeping.—Given at Gaillon the 24th of May, 1571.
“Charles.”
The appeal was not in vain, as we have said.
Máréchal de Matignon, in a letter to the king in 1585, renders the following fine testimony concerning Ogier de Gourgues:
“Sire, the pestilence in this city continues to such a degree that there is not a person, with the means of living elsewhere, who has not left it, and there are now only the Srs. Premier President and De Gourgues, who remain out of the special affection they have for your service.”
Ogier de Gourgues had two sons, Antoine and Marc Antoine. Antoine, the elder, presumed by MM. Haag and others to be a Protestant, is thus spoken of in the Chronique Bourdeloyse, published in 1672:
“The château de Castillon, in Médoc, having been surprised by some troops, has been restored to the obedience of the king and the Seigneur de Matignon in eight days by Capt. de Gourgues, mestre de camp of a French regiment, and cousin of him who attacked the Spaniards in Florida.”
And in another place: “And after some sorties from the garrison of Blaye, in which Capt. de Gourgues, while fighting valiantly, was wounded, and after some days died, the said Seigneur de Matignon raised the siege.”
Of course, Marshal de Matignon’s lieutenant could not be a Huguenot. Besides, the account of the expenses at the grand funeral services of Capt. Antoine de Gourgues, attended by all the religious communities in Bordeaux, is still extant. By this we find seven livres are paid the Carmelite monks for their services three days, and the use of several objects for the funeral; three crowns to the canons of St. André for High Mass and the burial service; twenty sols to the Brothers of the Observance for three days’ assistance and the use of robes; four crowns to the religious of the Chapelet for aiding in the three days’ service; five sols to the Brothers of Mary for the same; two crowns to twenty-four priests who recited prayers around the bier; fifty-one sols each to four women who dressed the body and remained with it day and night; one sol apiece given to three thousand poor on the day of burial, and six deniers the following day, etc., etc. There is a chapelle ardente, hung with mourning, emblazoned with the family arms, the bells are tolled two days, and all the clergy and poor follow him to the grave, with the most solemn rites of the Catholic Church.
Marc Antoine, the second son of Ogier de Gourgues, was a zealous defender of the Catholic faith. He travelled all through Europe in his youth, studied theology at the Roman college, and, gifted with uncommon eloquence, though he did not take Orders, held public controversies against Calvinism and a discussion with Scaliger, as is shown by the eulogy at his funeral, which took place at Bordeaux. Some years after those public vindications of the Catholic faith, he went to England, where he was received with great distinction by Queen Elizabeth, a fact worthy of notice, as the favor she manifested to Dominique has been considered as an argument in proof of his Protestant proclivities. She liked to gather around her men of certain celebrity, and those who were in her good graces were not always in sympathy with her religious notions, as is shown in the case of Marc Antoine.
Marc Antoine became Premier President of the Parliament of Bordeaux, and was charged with all the preparations relative to the fulfilment of the marriage between Louis XIII. and the Infanta of Austria—a difficult mission, because the Huguenots, opposed to the alliance, were resolved to frustrate it. M. O’Reilly, in his Histoire de Bordeaux, says: “They endeavored to seize the person of the king in the environs of Guitre, but he arrived at Bordeaux without any disaster, thanks to the excellent arrangements made by President de Gourgues.”
Marc Antoine not only made foundations in favor of the Jesuits and Carmelites, but his second wife, Olive de Lestonnac, left thirty thousand livres to the Recollects of Sainte Foy, to build a residence where they could labor for the conversion of the Huguenots. It would seem as if every member of the family were animated with a particular zeal for the Catholic religion.
In 1690 we find Jacques Joseph de Gourgues Bishop of Bazas.
After the foregoing proofs, no possible doubt can be felt concerning the stanch Catholicity of the De Gourgues family. As for Dominique, but little is known of his life previous to his expedition to Florida. Though he afterwards belonged to the royal navy, it appears that he first served on land and took part in the Italian campaign under Maréchal de Strozzi. His last feat of arms in Italy, says one of his biographers, was to sustain a siege, in 1557, with thirty men against a corps of Spanish troops. The fort held was taken by assault, and the garrison all slaughtered, except De Gourgues, who was spared, to be sent ignominiously to row on the galleys. His boat being captured by the Turks on the coast of Sicily, he was taken to Rhodes and thence to Constantinople. But his fate was not changed; he continued to serve in the galleys. Again putting to sea, he was taken and set at liberty by Mathurin Romegas, commander of the galleys of Malta and Knight of S. John of Jerusalem. The deliverer of the future hero of Florida was likewise a Gascon. His tombstone may still be seen in the nave of the nuns’ church of Trinità de’ Monti at Rome, the inscription half effaced by the feet of the worshippers.
Dominique now returned to France, and after a voyage to Brazil and the Indies, he entered the service of the house of Lorraine, who employed him on several private occasions against the Huguenots. His expedition to Florida did not take place till the year 1567. We have seen him fighting against the Spaniards in Italy, and subjected by them to the utmost degradation. It is not surprising he burned to avenge the murder of his companions-in-arms and the severe treatment he had endured, as well as to wipe out the stain on the national honor caused by the massacre of his fellow-countrymen in Florida. He had too narrowly escaped the Spanish sword himself not to feel the deepest sympathy in their fate. He afterwards drew up himself an account of his expedition, which is full of thrilling interest. It has been published, but the original is in the Bibliothèque Impériale at St. Germain.
The establishment of a French colony in Florida grew out of the civil and religious contests of the XVIth century. Admiral de Coligni, with the view of providing his co-religionists a safe asylum beyond the seas, induced Charles IX. to allow five or six hundred Huguenots under Jean Ribault to embark at Dieppe, Feb. 18, 1561, in order to establish themselves in Florida. They landed at the mouth of the Rio San Mateo on the 1st of May, and built a fort on an island, which they called Fort Charles, in honor of their sovereign. The return of Ribault to France led to a relaxation of discipline, and the consequent ruin of the colony. Other companies, also favored by Coligni, were sent in 1564 and 1565, under Laudonnière and the same Ribault, to place the colony on a better footing. Laudonnière secured the friendship of the Indians, whose chief, Satirova, hastened to offer his support. But the destitution to which the colony was reduced weakened the attachment of the natives, and some acts of piracy exasperated the Spaniards, who regarded them as intruders, and resolved on their destruction.
Pedro Melendez appeared with six vessels before Fort Caroline and summoned Laudonnière and Ribault to surrender, promising to spare those who were Catholics, but declaring all heretics should be put to death. They defended themselves valiantly, and even took the offensive, and had it not been for a tempest, perhaps bravery would have won the day over the number of the enemy. But we need not give details which are familiar to all. The fort fell into the hands of Melendez, and all, except Laudonnière and one of his companions who evaded the search, were put to death, “not as French, but as heretics,” if we are to believe an inscription left on the spot. Nothing could be more horrible than this atrocious murder of four hundred inoffensive colonists. The Spaniards even tore out the eyes of their victims, stuck them on the point of their daggers, and hurled them against the French on the water. The skin of Ribault was sent to the King of Spain. And to crown so barbarous a deed, they heaped together the bodies of the men, women, and children, and kindling a great fire, reduced them to ashes, with savage howlings.
Whatever the zeal of the Spanish for the Catholic religion, we may naturally suppose it was not the only motive that animated them on this occasion. Their eagerness to take possession of the country and fortify it, instead of requesting Charles IX. to send a Catholic colony to replace the Huguenots, shows that other motives influenced them. Religion was only a cloak. Moreri, in his Dictionnaire Historique, 1712, says: “They hung the French under the pretext they were Lutherans.”
Laudonnière, who escaped, brought the fearful details of this butchery to France. The rage was universal. Notwithstanding the antipathy of the court to the religion of the majority of the victims, it has been too strongly asserted that all sense of national honor was lost in view of the religious aspect of the case. The government of Charles IX. was too weak to insist on complete reparation, but his letters to the French Ambassador at Madrid prove he demanded Philip II. should chastise those who were guilty of the massacre.[165] No reparation, however, was made, and the cruelties of Melendez not only remained unpunished, but he was loaded with honors.
Père Daniel, in his History, says: “This inhumanity (of Melendez), instead of being punished by the government of Spain when complaint was made, was praised, and those who had a share in it rewarded. The unhappy state of affairs in the kingdom (France), in consequence of the civil wars, prevented the king from taking vengeance, and three years passed away without the court’s thinking of exacting justice. Capt. Gourgues, a man who sought to distinguish himself, and loved glory more than anything else, resolved to avenge the insult to the French nation, and without looking for any other reward but success and renown, undertook the expedition at his own expense in spite of the danger and every expectation of being disavowed at court.… This deed, that may be numbered among the most memorable ever done of the kind, wiped out the affront inflicted on the French nation.”
And the account from the Imperial library says: “The traitors and murderers, instead of being blamed and punished in Spain, were honored with great estates and dignities. All the French nation expected such an injury to the king and the whole nation would soon be avenged by the public authorities, but this expectation being disappointed for the space of three years, it was hoped some private individual would be found to undertake a deed so essential to the honor and reputation of France. There were many who would have been glad of the renown to be won by such an enterprise, but it could not be undertaken without great expense; the result, for many reasons, was uncertain, hazardous, and full of peril; and even if successfully executed, it might not be exempt from calumny. And it was difficult to find any one willing to incur this calumny by the loss of his property, and an infinite number of difficulties and dangers.”
It was not Laudonnière who went to take vengeance on the Spaniards. It was no agent of Coligni’s. It was not even one of the Huguenots, though their brothers’ blood cried from the ground, who lent his ear to the terrible appeal. No; the brave heart who atoned for the weakness of the sovereign belonged to a devoted Catholic family of the Landes. It was a soldier who had served under the Strozzi in Italy, and afterwards under the Guises in France, who lost sight of religious distinctions in view of his country’s disgrace, and nobly resolved to become the avenger of the Huguenots.
Dominique de Gourgues began his preparations early in the year 1567. He sold some of his property, or, as stated by others, his brother Ogier advanced the money necessary for fitting out the expedition. He armed two vessels small enough to enter the large rivers, and a patache which, when there was lack of wind, could be propelled by oars. He manned them with eighty sailors and one hundred and fifty soldiers, among whom we find some of the noble, as well as plebeian, names of Gascony. Monluc, the governor of Bordeaux, allowed him to depart on a pretended expedition to the coast of Africa. It was the 22d of August. De Gourgues even concealed the object of the voyage from his followers, which shows how unreasonable it is to regard them as Protestants going to avenge a Protestant cause, as many suppose. The names of only a few of them are known, and nothing in particular of these. Capt. Cazenove, of a noble family near Agen that still exists, commanded one of the vessels. Another is called Bierre by MM. Haag, and De Berre by M. de Barbot, and one of the captains of the Baron de la Gardie’s galleys was named Loys de Berre, of course a stanch Catholic. But we see no reason for religious distinctions in the case. The important thing was to have brave, resolute men. And it is certain they knew nothing of the object of the expedition till they arrived at Cape St. Antoine. It is said when they learned it, “they were at first surprised and dissatisfied,” which does not look much like sympathy for slaughtered co-religionists. Parkman says: “There (in Cuba) he gathered his followers about him and addressed them with his fiery Gascon eloquence.… He painted with angry rhetoric the butcheries of Fort Caroline and St. Augustine. ‘What disgrace,’ he cried, ‘if such an insult should pass unpunished! What glory to us if we avenge it! To this I have devoted my fortune. I relied on you. I thought you jealous enough of your country’s glory to sacrifice life itself in a cause like this. Was I deceived? I will show you the way; I will be always at your head; I will bear the brunt of the danger. Will you refuse to follow me?’ The sparks fell among gunpowder. The combustible French nature bursts into flame.”
There is not a word in this address of their being Huguenots, though free to express his sentiments at such a distance from their native land. The only appeal is—glory and France.
It is unnecessary to relate the wonderful coup-de-main by which the three forts of the Spanish were taken. Every one knows how he hung up the thirty Spaniards who were left, on the same trees on which his fellow-countrymen had been hung, and in place of the inscription left by Melendez, he graved with a red-hot iron on a pine slab: “This is not done to Spaniards, but to treacherous robbers and assassins.” One of these victims confessed the justice of the act, as he had hung five of the Huguenots with his own hand.
The Revue des Deux Mondes calls the retaliation of the bold Landais “savage,” and certainly grave moral reasons can be brought against such a proceeding. But everything was exceptional in this historic episode, and we must not regard it according to the ideas of the present age. The disinterested and heroic daring of De Gourgues cannot be denied, nor can any one help applauding his patriotic wish to repair the injured honor of the nation. That he looked upon his deed as one of righteous vengeance is sure. How solemn and religious is his language in addressing his followers after his victory:
“My friends, let us give thanks to God for the success he has accorded to our enterprise. It was he who saved us from danger in the tempest off Cape Finibus Terræ, at Hispaniola, Cuba, and the river of Halimacany! It was he who inclined the hearts of the savages to aid us! It was he who blinded the understanding of the Spaniards, so they were unable to discover our forces, or avail themselves of their own! They were four to our one, strongly intrenched, and well provided with artillery, and supplies of food and ammunition. We only had justice on our side, and yet we have conquered them with but little trouble. It is not to our strength, but to God alone we owe the victory. Let us thank him, my friends, and never forget the benefits we have received from him. Let us pray him to continue his favor towards us, to guide us on our way back and preserve us from all danger; pray him also to vouchsafe to dispose the hearts of men so that the many dangers we have incurred and the fatigues we have endured may find grace and favor before our king and before all France, as we had no other motive but the service of the king and the honor of our country!”
They set sail May 3, and arrived at La Rochelle the 6th of June. De Gourgues went immediately to Bordeaux to render an account of his voyage to Monluc, who, as Père Daniel says, loaded him with praises and caresses, which, with his antipathy to Huguenotism, he would hardly have done had De Gourgues been a Huguenot in the service of Huguenots. If the latter did not inform him before his departure of the object of his expedition, it was because he knew Monluc was anxious to avoid all occasion of rupture with Spain. MM. Haag say Monluc had received orders to forbid all expeditions of the kind. And though De Gourgues did not doubt the approbation of the governor, he did not wish to compromise him in the eyes of the king.
De Gourgues received not only a flattering welcome from Monluc but the acclamations of the entire nation. The wish for vengeance had been universal, and he was applauded for realizing it. Perhaps it was this outburst of patriotism that forgot all religious animosities which led that sagacious diplomatist, François de Noailles, at this very time Bishop of Dax, a place not far from Mont-de-Marsan, to assure the king the best means of putting an end to the civil dissensions of the country was to declare war against Spain.
Had De Gourgues been a Huguenot he would probably have disposed of his war prizes at La Rochelle, where he first touched, thereby rendering his party a service by supplying them with arms. Instead of that, he took them to Bordeaux, and Monluc bought them to arm the city against the Huguenots, as is shown by existing documents estimating their value, dated Aug. 27, 1568.
“This day appeared before me Capt. Dominique de Gourgues requesting the appraisement of nine pieces of artillery, one cannon, a culverin, and three moyennes, which he has brought to this said city from the voyage he has lately made, and taken in the fort the French had built, but which was afterwards seized by one Pierre Malendes, a Spaniard.… Presented themselves before us to make the said appraisement and valuation: Antoine de Cassagnet, lord of Cassagnet and Tilhadet, Knight of the Order of the King, and governor of the city and country of Bordeaux in the absence of Sr. de Monluc; Jehan de Monluc, Knight of the Order of St. John of Jerusalem, gentleman in ordinary of the king’s chamber, and colonel of the infantry of Guienne; Jacques Descar, Knight of the Order of the King, captain of fifty men-at-arms of his ordinance, captain and governor of the Château du Ha in the said city and province of Guienne; Charles de Monferrand, also Knight of the Order of the King; Pierre de Savignac, also Knight of the same order; and Loys de Lur, Seigneur d’Uza, whom, etc.”
All these persons to whom De Gourgues thus confided his interests were Catholic lords of Guienne, whose religious convictions could not be doubted, and with whom he must have been on intimate terms to induce them to take the trouble to estimate the value of his war-prizes.
But it is said Charles IX. and his court condemned De Gourgues’ act. M. de Lacaze, in his biography, says: “He received from his compatriots the liveliest testimonies of admiration and gratitude; but it was not the same at court, where his courage and achievements were rewarded by ingratitude and persecution. The Spanish ambassador demanded his head, and the heroic Frenchman was obliged to conceal himself at Rouen to escape death. He was living in a state bordering on want when Queen Elizabeth offered him command of a fleet she was going to send to the assistance of King Antonio of Portugal; but enfeebled by age, chagrin, and fatigue, Gourgues was unable to profit by so brilliant an offer. He died on his way to London.”
Many of these statements need to be greatly modified, as we shall show.
De Thou says: “At his return he is badly received by the court, which is wholly Spanish. The king treats him as a disturber of the public peace.”
There is no doubt the king feared a rupture with Spain, in consequence of the civil dissensions in his kingdom. M. de Monluc, in his Commentaries, alluding to his son’s expedition to Africa, expressed a fear of its leading to disturbance with Spain. Personally, he desired war, but did not wish him to draw upon himself the censure of the government. What he says explains the reception of De Gourgues at a court where Spanish influence predominated, and leaves no doubt the latter was only received as the son of Monluc himself would have been, had he given cause for war with Spain. He was, however, soon honorably received into service, for we find him, in August, 1568, attached to the royal navy; so he could not, as he states, go to Dax, being “prevented by the affairs of the king and the service of the galleys.”
We find De Gourgues’ vessel, the Charles, named in an act of October 22, 1568, in which it is said that Loys de Lur, Vicomte d’Uza, was “general-in-chief of the army, and of the vessels Charles, Catherine, etc., which will at once set sail by order of M. de Monluc.” These vessels were to guard the mouth of the Gironde.
There are still several documents in the archives of the department of the Gironde which refer to De Gourgues’ official duties at this time. From them we give the following extracts:
“Know all men that on this 14th of March, 1572, appeared before me, Jehan Castaigne, etc., for the purpose of selling by these presents to Dominique de Gourgues, squire and gentleman in ordinary of the king’s chamber, … four hundred quintals of biscuit, good and salable, for the sum of six livres and fifteen sols for each of said quintals.[166]…”
Arcère speaks of an armament fitted out at Brouage by Philip de Strozzi, as if to ravage the Spanish coasts of America—a cloak to his real design. He provided this fleet with provisions, munitions of war, etc., with no appearance of haste, though so late in the season. Coligni, therefore, was warned.
We find a letter from Charles IX. to Dominique de Gourgues on the subject, written fifteen days after St. Bartholomew’s Day, when there was no need of concealing his real designs:
“Captain Gourgues: As I have written my cousin, the Sire de Strozzy, to approve his appointing you to go on a voyage of discovery, with the general consent of the company, I trust this letter will find you ready to set sail. I beg to warn you, before setting out, not to touch at any place belonging to my brother-in-law, or any prince friendly to me, and with whom I am at peace. Above all, fear to disobey me if you desire my approbation, and the more, because I have more need than I once had of preserving the friendship of all my neighbors. Conduct yourself, therefore, wisely, and according to my intentions, and I will remember the service you do me. Praying God, Captain Gourgues, to have you in his keeping.
Charles.
“Paris, September 14, 1572.”
This letter proves the king’s serious intention of sending the fleet abroad, and contains a somewhat severe warning not to repeat his bold deeds in Florida.
D’Aubigné declares that these vessels were really intended to attack the Spanish settlements in America, but their destination was changed, and they served at the siege of La Rochelle, “to the great displeasure of those who were hoping for a voyage at sea.”
Arcère, in his Histoire de la Rochelle, thus speaks of the Charles at the siege of that city: “The king’s fleet was composed of six galleys and nine vessels. The largest of these vessels was called the Charles. The admiral’s, named the Grand Biscayen, was under the Vicomte d’Uza, commander of the fleet in the absence of the Baron de la Gardie. Montgomery advanced as if to engage in combat, but he encountered full fire from the enemy’s fleet; the vessel he commanded, pierced by a ball, would have sunk without speedy assistance, and he decided to retreat.”
That Dominique de Gourgues was in command of the Charles on this occasion is proved by a document in possession of the present Vicomte de Gourgues, which states that Dominique, by an act signed by the king in council, August 10, 1578, was paid the sum of seven thousand crowns “for services rendered at and before the siege of La Rochelle with his vessel, the Charles, and a patache called the Desperada.”
This is the latest known document referring to the public services of Dominique de Gourgues. There is, however, another letter from the king referring to another service a few years previous, and confirming the fact that the Charles was under his command: “Capt. Gourgues: After deliberating about using some of the largest and best vessels of my navy before the city of La Rochelle—in the number of which is the Charles, which belongs to you—for the embarkation of four thousand soldiers intended for Poland, I have concluded to send you this present to notify you at once of my intention, praying you above all, as you love the welfare of my service, to give orders that your vessel be equipped as soon as it can be done, and ordered to Havre de Grace, where it is necessary to arrive by the 12th or 13th of August next; and, that you arrive with greater security, it will be expedient for your vessel to join the others ordered on the same voyage, that you may go in company to said Havre. I beg you, therefore, to proceed for this purpose to Bordeaux, where the Sire de Berre is to despatch twelve cannons and other arms, that are also to go to said Havre with all speed. Endeavor to render the service I expect of you in that place. Praying God that he have you, Captain Gourgues, in his holy and safe keeping,
“Charles.
“Gaillon, July 2, 1573.”
Such are some of the records of the public services of Dominique de Gourgues after the Florida expedition. Of course his achievements were not rewarded as they should have been. Pedro Melendez was created marquis for his barbarous deed and enriched with estates. The brave Landais, who took vengeance, merited far more. But, as we have shown, he still remained in the king’s service, and retained, or regained, his confidence. And his exploit has always been regarded as one of the most brilliant episodes of French history. Châteaubriand, blaming the author of the Henriade for having recourse to threadbare examples from ancient times, says “the Chevalier de Gourgues offered him one of the most thrilling of episodes.”
We find a private paper dated January 14, 1580, in which Dominique de Gourgues gives Romarine de Mesmes, damoyselle, his aunt, power and authority to receive the fruits, profits, and emoluments of all his cattle and real estate in the Vicomté de Marsan, which shows that he did not sell all his property to provide for the expedition to Florida, or die in want, as has been stated.
Queen Elizabeth of England offered him command of a fleet to aid Don Antonio of Portugal in the war against Spain; but this honor is no proof of his being regarded by her as a Protestant, but rather of his well-known hatred of the Spanish, for it was to aid one Catholic nation against another. It was on his way to take command of this fleet that he fell ill at Tours, in which he died in the year 1583. He was buried with honor in the abbatial church of S. Martin of Tours—the crowning proof that Dominique de Gourgues was a genuine Catholic.