"The French and Spaniards had been long at bitter enmity, and the wars between them were carried on with all the exasperation of ancient rivalry and mutual hatred. The encroachments of the former upon the territories claimed by the Spaniards in Florida raised the liveliest indignation in the minds of a people not less martial and chivalrous than the French; and when we add that these encroachments had been chiefly made by the Huguenots, a race held in sovereign detestation by the Catholic Spaniard, and persecuted to a degree of intensity by Philip II., the height of animosity to which they were excited can easily be conceived. Nor were the French less susceptible of angry and vindictive feelings, to which may be added the poignant stings of offended national pride. They had never forgiven the captivity of their popular and gallant prince, Francis I.; the memory of this supposed disgrace still rankled in the population; nor was it even wholly eradicated until adequate reparation was made to the national honor by the accession of a French prince to the throne of Spain many years afterward. Notwithstanding a short cessation of the warfare between these two great powers, the passions we have attempted to describe remained in full force.
"Laudonnière passed the winter of 1564 in the fort which he had built near the mouth of St. Mary's River, and which he called La Caroline. In August, 1565, having experienced the mutinous disposition of part of his force, superadded to the horrors of famine, he was preparing to abandon the enterprise and to return to France, when he was joined by Ribaut with seasonable supplies. On the 4th of September, they were surprised by the appearance in the road of six large vessels, which proved to be a Spanish fleet, under the command of Don Pedro Menendez. Hostilities were immediately commenced; and the French, having an inferior force of four vessels, were obliged to put to sea, chased by the Spaniard. The former, however, being the better sailors, after distancing their opponents, returned to the coast, and relanded their troops about eight leagues from the fort of La Caroline. Three of the Spanish vessels kept the open sea, while the others lay in the road watching an opportunity to attack the French fort. Ribaut, who was a brave but obstinate man, persisted in his resolution to put to sea again, for the purpose of meeting and fighting with the Spanish vessels. The season was extremely tempestuous, and Laudonnière, having first vainly endeavored to dissuade his colleague from the rash attempt, fortified himself, and made every preparation to resist the attack which he anticipated. At length, notwithstanding the very heavy and long-continued rains, the Spaniards were descried by the French sentinels advancing to the assault on the 29th of September. The ramparts, maintained with spirit by a small force, were soon surmounted and carried—the gallant defenders slain in the breaches. Laudonnière, fighting his way bravely, was the last to leave the fort, and succeeded in escaping to the woods, where he rallied a few of his straggling countrymen, and whence he ultimately returned to France. The remainder, with the fort, fell into the hands of the Spaniards. Nor did the disasters of the French end here. The vessels commanded by Ribaut were driven on shore by the storms then prevalent—many of the people lost—the survivors and their commander became prisoners to the Spaniards. The French were cruelly, and with bitter taunts, put to death. Several were hung from neighboring trees with this insulting legend: 'Ceux-ci n'ont pas été traité de la sorte en qualité de François, mais comme hérétiques et ennemis de Dieu.'
"Ample chastisement was, however, about to be inflicted. Champlain, who writes of this transaction with the blunt and honest indignation of a soldier, in his own familiar and quaint style, observes, 'Ceux-ci furent payés de la même monnaye, qu'ils avoient payés les François' ('they were repaid in the same coin with which they had paid the French').
"So Shakspeare truly says,
'In these cases,
We still have judgment here: that we but track
Bloody instructions, which, being taught, return
To plague the inventor. This even-handed justice
Commends the ingredients of our poison'd chalice
To our own lips.'
"This outrage excited the deepest indignation in France, but the avowed hatred of the court toward Coligny and the Huguenots prevented public satisfaction being demanded from Philip II. The instrument of a just retribution was not wanting to the emergency, but it was reserved for a private individual to redeem the honor of the French name. 'En l'an 1567,' says Champlain, 'se presenta le brave Chevalier de Gourgues, qui plein de valeur et de courage, pour venger cet affront fait à la nation François, et recognoissant qu'aucun d'entre la noblesse, dont la France foisonne, ne l'offroit pour tirer raison d'une telle injure, entreprint de le faire.' ('In the year 1567, there presented himself the brave Chevalier de Gourgues, who, full of valor and courage, to avenge the insult on the French nation, and observing that none among the nobility, with whom France abounded, offered to obtain satisfaction for such an injury, undertook himself to do so.') He was a gentleman of Gascony, and there were at that period few inferior officers in France, or perhaps in all Europe, who had acquired a more brilliant reputation in war, or had undergone greater vicissitudes. When very young he had served in Italy with honor; and on one occasion, having the command of a small band of thirty men, near Sienna in Tuscany, he was able for a considerable time to withstand and repulse the assault of a part of the Spanish army, until, all his men being slain, he yielded himself prisoner. Contrary to the usage of war among generous foes, he was sent to the galleys in chains as a robber-slave. The galley to which the indignant De Gourgues was condemned was afterward captured by the Turks on the Sicilian coast, and sent into Rhodes. Again putting to sea with a Turkish crew, it was encountered and taken by the galleys of the Knights of Malta, and De Gourgues recovered his liberty and his sword. He afterward made several passages to Brazil and the coast of Africa, still treasuring up vengeance on the Spaniards; and he had just returned to France from one of his voyages, with the reputation of the bravest and most able among her navigators, when he heard of the disastrous tale of La Caroline, and the disgraceful manner in which his countrymen had been put to death by the Spaniards. Like a patriot, he felt keenly for the honor of his country; and as a man, he burned for an opportunity of satiating his long-dormant revenge on the perfidious Spaniards for their unworthy treatment of himself. At this time, too, there was circulated in France a narrative, entitled the 'Supplication of the Widows and Children of those who had been massacred in Florida,' calculated to rouse the national feeling to the highest pitch. These united motives urged De Gourgues to a chivalrous undertaking—no less than to chase the murderous invaders from the coasts of Florida, at the sword's point, or to die in the attempt. He accordingly proceeded to make his preparations, which, however, were concealed with great skill and address. He raised a considerable sum by selling his property, and by loans obtained from his friends; and, disguising his real purpose, gave out that he was bound, as before, to the African coast. The squadron consisted of three vessels, with crews amounting to 250 souls, amply provided for twelve months. Thus equipped, he sailed, on the 23d of August, 1567, from Bordeaux, and after some time began to unfold his real design, expatiating in glowing language on the glory of the attempt and the righteousness of the quarrel.
"Speech of De Gourgues, from Champlain: 'Mes compagnons et fidèles amis de ma fortune, vous n'estes pas ignorans combien je cheris les braves courages comme vous, et l'avez assez tesmoigné par la belle resolution que vous avez prise de me suivre et assister en tous les perils et hazards honorables que nous aurons à souffrir et essuyer, lorsqu'ils se presenteront devant nos yeux, et l'estat que je fais de la conservation de vos vies; ne desirant point vous embarquer au risque d'un enterprise que je ne sçaurois réussir, à une ruine sans honneur: ce seroit à moy une trop grand et blamable témérité, de hazarder vos personnes à un dessein d'un accez si difficile; ce que je ne croy pas estre, bien que j'aye employé une bonne partie de mon bien et de mes amis, pour équipper ces vaisseaux et les mettre en mer, estant le seul entrepreneur de tout le voyage. Mais tout cela ne me donne pas tant de sujet de m'affliger, comme j'en ay de me resjouir, de vous voir tous resolus à une autre entreprise, que retournera à votre gloire, sçavoir d'aller venger l'injure que nostre nation a receüe des Espagnols, qui ont fait une telle playe à la France, qu'elle saignera à jamais, par les supplices et traictemens infames qu'ils ont fait souffrir à nos François, et excercé des cruautez barbares et inouis en leur endroit. Les ressentimens que j'en ay quelquefois, m'en font jetter des larmes de compassion, et me relevent le courage de telle sort, que je suis resolu avec l'assistance de Dieu, et la vostre, de prendre une juste vengeance d'une telle felonnie et cruauté Espagnolle, de ces cœurs laches et poltrons, qui ont surpris mal-heureusement nos compatriots, qu'ils n'eussent osé regarder sur la défense de leurs armes. Ils sont assez mal logez, et les surprendrons aisément. J'ay des hommes en mes vaisseaux qui cognaissent tres-bien le pais, et pouvous y allez en seureté. Voicy, chers compagnons, un subject de relever nos courages, faites paroietre que vous avez autant de bonne volonté à éxécuter ce bon dessein, que vous avez d'affection à me suivre: ne serez vous pas contents de remporter les lauriers triomphans de la despouille de vos ennemis?'
"'Companions, and faithful friends of my fortunes, you are not ignorant how highly I value brave men like yourselves. Your courage you have sufficiently proved by your noble resolution to accompany me in all the dangers which we shall have to encounter, as they successively present themselves: my regard for you I have shown by the care I have taken for the safety of your lives. I desire not to embark you in any enterprise which may result in dishonorable failure: it would be in me a far too great and blamable temerity to hazard your safety in any design so difficult of accomplishment, which, however, I do not consider this one to be, seeing that I have employed in it a good part of my own fortune, and that of my friends, in equipping these vessels, and putting to sea, myself being the sole undertaker of the voyage. But all this does not give me so much cause for regret, as I have reason to rejoice, seeing you all resolved upon another enterprise, which will redound to your glory, namely, to avenge the insult suffered by our nation from the Spaniards, who have inflicted an incurable wound upon France by their infamous treatment, and the barbarous and unheard-of cruelties they have exercised upon our countrymen. The description of these wrongs has caused me to shed tears of pity, and inspires me now with such determination, that I am resolved, with the assistance of God and your aid, to take a just revenge for this felonious outrage on the part of the Spaniards—those base and cowardly men, who unhappily destroyed our friends by surprise, whom, with arms in their hands, they dared not to have looked in the face. The enemy is poorly lodged, and may be easily surprised. I have on board persons who know the country well, and we can reach it in safety. Here, my dear companions, here is a subject to rouse our courage! Let me see that you have as good will to perform this noble design, as you had affection to follow my person! Will you not rejoice to bear away triumphant laurels, bought by the spoil and ruin of our enemies?'
"This enthusiastic speech produced its full effect. Each soldier shouted assent to the generous proposal, and was ready to reply with Euryalus,
'Est hic, est animus lucis contemptor, et istum
Qui vita bene credat emi, quo tendes, honorem!'
'Like thine, this bosom glows with martial flame,
Burns with a scorn of life, and love of fame;
And thinks, if endless glory can be sought
On such low terms, the prize is cheaply bought.'