The Lily and the Totem; or, The Huguenots in Florida

by William Gilmore Simms

  CHAPTER VI.

  THE STORMING OF LA CAROLINE.

  The preparations for departure were complete. The Adelantado himselfmarched at the head of his vanguard, the immediate command of whichwas confided to Senor Martin de Ochoa, with a troop of Biscayans andAsturians, armed with axes, for clearing their pathway through theforest. With these went the traitor, Francis Jean, who had abandoned hisreligion and La Caroline together. He was watched closely, but provedfaithful to his new masters. Dreary, indeed, was the progress ofMelendez. The storm prevailed all the time. The rain soaked theirgarments, and it was with difficulty they could protect their ammunitionand provisions. The fourth day of the march they were within five milesof La Caroline, but arrested by an immense tract of swamp, in passingwhich the water was up to their middles. The whole country was flooded,and the _freshet_ momently increased, in consequence of the continuedrains. These had become more terrible in volume than ever. The windowsof heaven seemed again opened for another deluge. The hearts of theSpaniards sunk, as their toils and sufferings increased. More than ahundred slunk away, fell off on the route, and made their way over theground which they had trodden, reporting the worst of disasters to theircomrades, defeat and destruction, by way of excusing their cowardice.But the indomitable courage and unbending will of the adelantado, hispresence and voice of command in every quarter, still prevailed tobring his remaining battalions forward. It was in vain that his troopsmuttered curses upon his head. Fernan Perez, an ensign of the company ofSt. Vincent, was bold enough to say, that "he could not comprehend howso many brave gentlemen should let themselves be led by a wretchedAsturian mountaineer--a fellow who knew no more about carrying on war onland than a horse!"

  The ensign had a great deal more to say of the same sort, of whichMelendez was not ignorant, but of which he took no notice. He was a sagedissimulator who answered discontent with policy, and strengthened hispeople's hearts by divine revelation. He called another council of hisofficers. He told them of his prayers to and consultations of Heaven,seeking to know the will of God only in the performance of hiswork,--persuaded that each of them had made like prayers all night; thatthey were accordingly in the very mood of mind to resolve what was tobe done in their extremity. He made this to appear as bad as possible,describing them as "harrassed with fatigue, shorn of strength, withoutbread, munitions or any human resource."

  Some one counselled their retreat to St. Augustine before the Huguenotsshould discover them.

  "Very good advice," quoth Melendez, "but suffer me still another word.The prospect is undoubtedly a gloomy one, but look you, there are theportals of La Caroline. Now, it may be just as well to see how affairsstand with our enemies. According to all appearances they are not inforce. We may not have the power to take the place, but it is well tosee whether the place can be taken. If we retreat now, we are not surethat we shall do so securely. They will probably hunt us through theforest, at every step of the way, encouraged by our show of weaknessand timidity. It is not improbable that we may surprise this fort. Menseldom look either for friends or enemies in bad weather. I doubt ifthey can sustain a bold assault; but if they do, and we fail, we havethe consolation at least of having done all that was possible for men."

  The assault was agreed upon; and in a transport of joy, the Adelantadosunk upon his knees, in the mire where he stood, and called upon histroops to do likewise, imploring the succor of the God of battles.

  He gave his orders with rapid resolution and according to a fixed designalready entertained. Taking with him Francis Jean, the renegade, he puthimself at the head of one division of his troops, and gave other bodiesto the Captains Martin de Ochoa, Francis Recalde, Andres Lopez Patinoand others, and, covered by the midnight darkness from observation--withall sounds of drum and trumpet stilled--with the echoes of theiradvancing squadrons hushed in the fall of torrents and the roar ofsweeping winds--the assailants made their way, slowly and painfully butwithout staggering, toward the silent bastions of La Caroline.

  Under the guidance of the renegade Frenchman the Spanish captains madea complete reconnoissance of the fortress. A portion of it was stillunrepaired, and this they penetrated without difficulty. We have seen,in a previous chapter, with what doubtful vigilance the lieutenants ofLaudonniere performed their duties. It will not be forgotten that,on the night of the 19th September, the charge of the watch lay withCaptain de la Vigne; nor will it be forgotten with what pity thatamiable captain regarded the condition of his sentinels, exposed tosuch unchristian weather. We left the fortress of La Caroline in mostexcellent repose; the storm prevailing without, and the garrison asleepwithin. It was while they slept that Don Pedro de Melendez was prayingto heaven that he might be permitted to assist them in their slumbers,changing the temporary into an eternal sleep. Thus passed the night ofthe 19th September over La Caroline. The dawn of the 20th found theSpaniards, in several divisions, about to penetrate the fortress. Two oftheir leaders, Martin de Ochoa and the master of the camp had alreadydone so. They had examined the place at their leisure, passing throughan unrepaired breach of one of the walls. Returning, with the view tomaking their report, they had mistaken one pathway for another, andencountered a drowsy Frenchman, who, starting at their approach,demanded "_Qui vive?_" Ochoa promptly answered, "France," and the manapproached them only to receive a stunning blow upon the head. TheFrenchman recovered himself instantly, drew his sword, and made at theassailant, but the master of the camp seconded the blow of Ochoa, andthe Frenchman was brought to the ground. The sword of the Spaniard wasplanted at his throat, and he was forbidden to speak under pain ofdeath. He had cried aloud, but had failed to give the alarm, and thispointed suggestion silenced him from farther attempts. He was conductedto Melendez, who, determined to see nothing but good auguries, criedout, without caring to hear the report--"My friends, God is with us! Weare already in possession of the fort." At these words the assault wasgiven. The captive Frenchman was slain, as the most easy method ofrelieving his captors of their charge, and the Spaniards dartedpell-mell into the fort, the fierce Adelantado still leading in thecharge, with the cry--"Follow me, comrades, God is for us!" TwoFrenchmen, half-naked, rushed across his path. One of them he slew, andDon Andres Patino the other. They had no time allowed them to give thealarm; but just at this moment a soldier of the garrison who was lessdrowsy than the rest, or more apprehensive of his duty, had saunteredforth from the shelter of his quarters and stood upon the ramparts,looking forth in the direction of a little "sandie knappe," or hill,down which a column of the Spaniards were rushing in order of battle.This vision brought him to the full possession of all his faculties. Hegave the _cri de guerre_, the signal of battle, but as he wheeled aboutto procure his weapons, he beheld other detachments of the Spaniardsmaking their way through the unrepaired and undefended breaches in thewall. Still he cried aloud, even as he fled, and Laudonniere startedfrom his slumbers only to hear the startling cry--"To arms! to arms! Theenemy is upon us!"

  The warning came too late. The amiable weakness which withdrew thesentinels from the walls because of the weather, was not now to berepaired by any energy or courage. The garrison was aroused, but notpermitted to rally or embody themselves. Melendez with his troophad reached the _corps de garde_ quite as soon as Laudonniere. Thelatter--lately supposed to have usurped royal honors--was very soonconvinced that the only object before him was the safety of his ownlife. With the first alarm, he caught up sword and buckler, and rushedvaliantly enough into the court. But he only appeared to be madepainfully conscious that everything was lost. His appeals to hissoldiers only brought his enemies about him, who butchered his men asthey approached their guns, and who now appeared in numbers on everyside, in full possession of the fortress. The magazines were already intheir hands, and a desperate effort of Laudonniere's artillerists torecover them, was followed only by their own destruction. The mostvigorous resistance, hand to hand, was made on the south-west sideof the fort. Here the Frenchmen opposed themselves with cool anddetermined courage, to the ent
rance of the enemy. Hither Laudonnierehurried, crying aloud to his men in the language of encouragement, anddoing his utmost, by the most headlong valor, to repair the mischiefsof his feeble rule and most unhappy remissness of authority. Verily,to those who saw how well he carried himself in this the moment of hisworst despair, the past errors of the unhappy Laudonniere had beenforgiven if not forgotten. But the struggle, on the part of any valor,was utterly in vain. The Spaniards had won a footing already too securefor dispossession. Led on by Pedro Melendez, with ever and anon hisfanatic war-cry--"God is with us, my comrades," ringing in their ears,now thoroughly excited by the earnest of success which they enjoyed, inoverwhelming numbers and in the full faith that they fought the battlesof Holy Church, the Spaniards were irresistible. They mocked the tardyvalor of our Huguenots, their feeble force, and purposeless attempts.At length the party led by Melendez confronted Laudonniere. The Spanishchieftain knew not the person of his enemy. But the renegade Frenchman,Francis Jean, discovered his ancient leader, and the desire for revenge,which had led to his treachery, filled his heart with exultation at theprospect of the gratification of his passion. He cried to Melendez:

  "That is he! That is the captain of the heretics--that is Laudonniere!"

  "Ah, traitor! Is it thou?" cried Laudonniere. "Let me but live to slaythee, and I care nothing for the rest."

  With these words he sprang upon the traitor guide, and would have slainhim at a stroke, but for the interposition of Melendez. He thrustback the renegade, and confronted the captain of the Huguenots. ButLaudonniere shrank from the conflict, for Melendez was followed by histroop; and, saving one man, a stout soldier named Bartholomew, whofought manfully with a heavy partizan, he stood utterly alone andunsupported. He gave back, or rather was drawn back by Bartholomew; butnow that Melendez and his people had seen the particular prey whom theyhad been seeking, they rushed with fiercer appetite than ever to makehim captive. The efforts of the Spaniards were then redoubled. Thefierce bigot Pedro Melendez himself--a stalwart warrior, clad inheavy black armor of woven mail, with a great white cross upon hisbreast--made the most desperate efforts to bring Laudonniere to the lastpassage at arms; and for a time the Frenchman, though quite too lightand enfeebled by sickness for the contest with such a champion, waseager to indulge him. He struggled with the friendly arm which perforcedrew him away, and great was his rage, though impotent, when the rush ofa number of his own fugitives passing between at this moment, hurriedhim onward as by the downward rush of a torrent, to the safety of hislife if not to the increase of his honor. At that moment Laudonnierehad gladly redeemed by a glorious death, at the hands of the fierceAsturian, the errors and the failures of his life. But this was deniedhim, and, vainly struggling against the tide of fugitives, he was sweptwith them in the direction of the _corps de garde_. Laudonniere yieldedin this manner only foot by foot, striking at the foe and at his ownrunagates alike, and receiving upon his shield, with the dexterity of anaccomplished cavalier, the assault of a score of pikes which pressedbeyond the heavy blade of Melendez. When at length the retreatingFrenchmen had reached the court of the fortress, they scatteredheadlong, finding themselves confronted by new and consolidated massesof the enemy, and each of them sought incontinently his own methodof escape. "_Sauve qui peut!_" was the cry, and the crowd by whichLaudonniere had hitherto been borne unwillingly along, now melted awayon every hand, leaving him again almost alone in the presence of theSpaniard. And still the faithful fellow, Bartholomew, clung to hissuperior, saving him from the rashness which would only have flung awayhis own life without an object. He hurried along his unhappy and nowreckless captain, taking his way into the yard of Laudonniere's lodging.Thither they were closely pursued, and, but for a tent that happened tobe standing in the place, they must have been taken. But, passing behindthis tent, while the Spaniards were busied in groping within it, orcutting away the cords,

  "Hither, now, Monsieur Rene," cried Bartholomew, grasping the commandantby the wrist and drawing him along; "follow me now and we shall surelyescape. They have left the breach open by the west, near to the lodgingof Monsieur D'Erlach, and by that route shall we gain the thickets."

  "Ah!" cried Laudonniere, long and grateful recollections of a triedfidelity, to which he had not always done justice, extorting from him agroan; "Ah! this had never happened had Jean Ribault left me Alphonse!"

  And the tears gushed from his eyes, and he paused and thrust the pointof his sword into the earth with vexation and despair.

  "We have not a moment, Monsieur Rene," cried the soldier withimpatience; "the tent is down; the Spaniards are foiled for a momentonly. They will be sure to seek you in the breach."

  "There! there! indeed!" cried the commandant bitterly, "there shouldthey have found me at first; but now!--Lead on! lead on! my good fellow.As thou wilt!"

  Soon our fugitives had cleared the breach, and were now without thewalls. The misty shroud which covered the face of nature, and envelopedas with a sea the thickets to which they were making, favored theirescape. The unhappy Laudonniere found himself temporarily safe in theforests; but if remote from present danger, they were not so far fromthe fortress as to be insensible to the work of death and horror whichwas in progress there, the evidence of which came to their ears in theshrieks of women for mercy, and the groans and cries of tortured men.

  "Slay! slay! Smite and spare not!" was the dreadful command of Melendez."The groans of the heretic make music in the ears of Heaven!"

  Laudonniere shut his ears, and with his companion plunged deeper intothe forests. Here he found other fugitives like himself, and otherssubsequently joined him; some were wounded even unto death, othersslightly; all were terror-stricken, shuddering with horror, incapablefrom wo and agony. What had they beheld, what endured, and what was theprospect before them but of massacre? A hasty council was convenedamong the party, and the advice of Laudonniere--he could command nolonger--was, that they should bury themselves among the reeds and withinthe marshes which lay along the river, out of sight, until they couldmake their small vessels, by which the mouth of the river was stillguarded, aware of their situation. But this council was agreeable to apart only, of that bewildered company. Another portion preferred to pushfor one of the Indian villages, at some little distance in the forests,where, hitherto, they had found a friendly reception. They perseveredin this purpose, leaving Laudonniere and a few others in the marshes.Hither, then, these hapless fugitives sped, till they could go nofarther; and until their commandant himself, still unrecovered from thechill and fever which had seized him at the first coming on of autumn,declared his inability to go deeper into the thicket, though it promisedhim the safety which he sought. He was already up to his neck in water,and such was his weakness, that he was about to yield to his fate. Butfor the faithful and unwearied support of one of his soldiers, Jean duChemin, who held him above the water when he would have sunk, and whostuck by him all the rest of that day, and through the long and drearynight which followed, he must have perished. Meanwhile, two of hissoldiers swam off in the direction of the vessels. Fortunately for thoseswimmers, those in the vessels had been already apprized of the takingof the fort by Jean de Hais, the master carpenter, who had made hisescape the first, by dropping down the river in a shallop. The boatsof the vessels were immediately pushed up the stream, and succeeded inpicking up the swimmers, and, finally, when Laudonniere and his faithfulcompanions were both about to sink, in extricating them from theirmarshy place of refuge. Eighteen or twenty of the fugitives (among whomwas the celebrated painter, Jaques le Moyne de Morgues, to whom we owemostly the illustrations of Floridian scenery, costume, and lineamentspreserved in De Bry and other collections) were rescued in this manner,and conveyed on board the ships. These, with Laudonniere, subsequentlymade their way, after many disasters, perils of the sea and land, adetention in England, where they were again indebted to the humanityof the English for succor and sympathy. An artful attempt was made byMelendez to obtain possession of these vessels, but he was baffled.They s
ailed from the river of May on the 25th September, 1565, thusabandoning forever the design of planting themselves and their religionpermanently in Florida. Let us now look to the farther proceedings ofthe conquerors in possession of their prize!