“Assist us to leave it, señor: that is in truth what we demand.”
“Demand nothing of me. Yield yourselves to my mercy—at discretion—deliver up your arms and ensigns, and I will do with you as God shall inspire me. Consent to this—these are my only terms—or do what pleases you. But you must hope nothing at my hands—neither truce nor friendship.”
With this cruel ultimatum, he quitted them, giving them opportunity to return and report to their comrades. In two hours they reappeared, and made him an offer from the two hundred men gathered on the opposite banks, of twenty thousand ducats, only to be assured of their lives. The answer was as prompt as it was characteristic.
“Though but a poor soldier, señor, I am not capable of governing myself, in the performance of my duties, by any regard to selfish interests. If I am moved to do an act of grace, it will be done from pure generosity. But do not let these words deceive you. I tell you as a gentleman, and an officer holding a high commission from the king of Spain, that, though the heavens and the earth may mingle before my eyes, the resolution which I once make, I never change!”
It will scarcely be thought possible that any body of men, having arms in their hands, and still in possession of physical powers sufficient for their use, would, under such circumstances, listen to such a demand. But the forces of Ribault had been terribly demoralized by disaster and disappointment. Privation had humbled their souls, and the utter exhaustion of their spirits made them give credence to vain hopes of mercy at the hands of their enemy, which at another period they could never have entertained. The report of their envoy found them ready to make any concessions. It required but half an hour to determine their submission. The returning batteau brought over with four officers all their ensigns, sixty-six arquebuses, twenty pistols, a large number of swords and bucklers, casques and cuirasses, their whole complement of munitions, and a surrender of the entire body at discretion. Melendez gladly seized upon these spoils. He embarked twenty of his soldiers in his batteau, with orders to bring over the Frenchmen, in small divisions, and to offer them no insult; but, as they severally arrived on the eastern side of the bay, they were conducted out of sight, and under the guns of his arquebusiers. They were then given to eat, and when the repast was ended, they were asked if any among them were Catholics. There were but eight of the whole number who replied in the affirmative. These were set apart, to be conducted to St. Augustine. The rest frankly avowed themselves to be good Christians of the Reformed Church. These were immediately seized, their arms tied behind their backs, and in little squads of six, were conducted to a spot in the background, where Melendez had traced, with his cane, a line upon the sand. Here they were butchered to a man, each succeeding body sharing the same fate, without knowing, till too late, that of their comrades. There was no pause, no mercy, no relentings in behalf of any. All perished, to the number of two hundred; and Pedro Melendez returned to his camp at St. Augustine, again to be welcomed with Te Deum, and the acclamation for good Christian service, from a Christian people.
[CHAPTER II.]
The congratulations of his people were yet resounding in his ears, when the savages brought him further intelligence of Frenchmen gathered upon the borders of that bay which had arrested the progress of the previous detachment. They were represented to be more numerous than the first, and Melendez did not doubt that they constituted the bulk of Ribault’s force under the immediate command of that leader. He proceeded to encounter him as he had done the other party, but on this occasion he increased his own detachment to one hundred and fifty men. These he ranged in good order during the night, along the banks of the river, which the Huguenots had begun their preparations to pass. They had been at work upon the radeau or raft which had been begun by the preceding party, but their progress had been unsatisfactory, and the prospect of the passage, in such a vessel, over such an arm of the sea, was quite as discouraging as to their predecessors. With the dawn, and when they discovered the force of Melendez on the opposite shore, the drums sounded the alarm, the royal standard of France was advanced, and the troops were ranged in order of battle. Poor Ribault still observed the externals of the veteran, if only to conceal the real infirmities which impaired the moral of his command.
Seeing this display of determination, Melendez, with proper policy, commanded his people to proceed to breakfast without any show of excitement or emotion. He himself promenaded the banks of the river, accompanied only by his admiral and two other officers, as indifferently as if there had been no person on the opposite side. With this, the clamors of the French tambours ceased—the fifes were allowed to take breath—and in place of the warlike standard of their country, the commander of the Huguenots displayed a white flag as sign of peace, and his trumpets sounded for a parley. A response from the Spanish side of the river, in similar spirit, caused one of the Frenchmen to advance within speaking distance, upon the raft, who requested that somebody might be sent them, as their radeau could not contend against the current. A pirogue was finally sent by the Spaniard, which brought over the sergeant-major of Ribault. This man related briefly the necessities and desires of his commander. He was totally ignorant of all that had taken place. He had been wrecked, and had lost all his vessels; that he had with him three hundred and fifty soldiers; that he was desirous of reaching his fortress, twenty leagues distant; and prayed the assistance of the Spaniards, to enable him to do so. At the close, he desired to know with whom he was conferring.