The royal officials, always on hand to make sure the governor followed the crown’s directives to the letter, blamed the deficiencies on Hita, “who has trod this fort down without knowledge of the art of fortification.” With another 5,000 pesos plus the masons due to arrive from Havana, said the old man in rebuttal, “I promise to leave the work in very good condition.” Before he could make good on that promise, Sgt. Maj. Don Juan Márquez Cabrera arrived at the end of November 1680 to take over the reins of government.

So, half apologizing for his own little knowledge of “architecture and geometry,” Hita left the trials and tribulations of this frontier province to his more youthful successor.

Actually, Hita had done a great deal. Within six weeks after his arrival he had made the Castillo defensible against any but an overwhelming force. During the rest of his 5½-year term he brought the walls up to where they were ready for the parapet builders, despite one obstacle after another. In fact, the parapet on San Carlos bastion was almost complete, with embrasures for the artillery and firing steps for the musketeers. The only low part of the work was the San Pablo bastion, where the level had been miscalculated. The sally port had its drawbridge and iron-bound portal, and another heavy door closed the postern in the north curtain. Permanent rooms that would go along the curtain walls were still only plans, but in a temporary building centered in the courtyard were a guardroom and storeroom, and a little chapel stood near the postern in the shadow of the north curtain.

These bottles, dating from the 19th-century American presence in St. Augustine, attest to the continuity of life. The shells on the stoneware flask indicate that it has been in saltwater for some time. The gold and tan bottle originally held ginger beer, a popular drink in the mid-1800s. The green bottle is stamped “Rumford Chemical Works” of Rumford, Rhode Island, on the shoulder.

Saint Augustine

Although Saint Augustine was primarily a military outpost intended to protect Spain’s dominion over Florida and the sea route of its treasure fleets, Saint Augustine also became a viable community as well, home to the settler-soldiers and their families. Except for the Castillo, which was finished in 1695, hardly any structure survives from Saint Augustine’s first 150 years. Archeological investigations show that almost all the earliest dwellings were small, crude structures made of local materials with thatched roofs and bare, dirt floors; coquina, the stone used in building the fort was not used for homes until 1690. The ordinary wear and tear of weather and time ensured that none of these early structures lasted.

Archeology can tell us about the lives of the people who lived in these houses, for more than 1,000 objects and pieces and bits of pottery dating to the 16th century have been found. Most of them are from local Indian sources and corroborate written records that show that by 1600 almost 25 percent of the soldiers had taken Indian wives because few Spanish women initially came to Florida. Besides using their local ceramics, the Indian women introduced New World foods to their families and into the Spanish diet, creating something that was neither wholly Spanish nor wholly Indian.

The Oldest House Museum

View in St. George Street

The town itself was laid out according to ordinances dictated by the Spanish government in 1563, resulting in a carefully planned community with houses fronting directly on standard-width streets with gardens in the rear or at the side. This showed clearly that Spain intended St. Augustine to be a permanent settlement, not a mere outpost on the fringes of empire. In the 18th century, indeed, it had become a vibrant community that numbered almost 3,000 persons when the garrison and all inhabitants withdrew after Florida became British in 1763.

The community and the people who lived in it were a mixture of influences showing graphically how quickly Spaniards adapted to the New World, using its materials, changing patterns that they had brought from their homeland to meet new conditions, and creating a society that simulated, but did not mirror, what they had left behind. Saint Augustine was the beginning of a new world for those who came here in 1565.

The map, based on the surveys of Juan de Solís, was drawn in 1764, a year after the British took control of Florida. English names have already been given to the town’s features. Somehow Fort St. Mark, a translation of Castillo de San Marcos, does not have the same ring.

The new man, Major Juan Márquez Cabrera, formerly governor of Honduras, checked the Castillo work carefully with the construction master. Those long years without an engineer had left them a heritage of mistakes—skimpy foundations, levels miscalculated—that had to be set right. From Havana came a military engineer, Ensign Don Juan de Císcara. During his brief stay he gave valuable guidance for continuing the work, built the ramp to San Pablo bastion, and laid foundations for the ravelin and its moat wall.

The 1680s were turbulent years. In 1682, the year the ravelin was finished, a dozen or so pirate craft in the Straits of Florida seized numerous Spanish prizes, including the Florida frigate on its way to Veracruz. They raided Mosquito Inlet, only 60 miles south of St. Augustine. In the west, pirates struck Fort San Marcos de Apalache and even went up the San Martín (Suwanee) River to rob cattle ranches in Timucua.

Work on the Castillo fell further and further behind schedule. Márquez appealed to the curate for dispensation to work on Sundays and holy days. Because of a history of bad relations with Márquez, the request was refused. Márquez appealed to higher authorities. When approval came, however, it was too late, for invasion came first.