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Updated: June 15, 2025
By two or three weeks of exploration they seem to have gained a clear idea of this rich semi-aquatic region. Ribaut describes it as "a countrie full of hauens, riuers, and Ilands, of such fruitfulnes as cannot with tongue be expressed." Slowly moving northward, they named each river, or inlet supposed to be a river, after some stream of France, the Loire, the Charente, the Garonne, the Gironde.
So a little way up the river which Ribaut had named the river of May, but which is now the St. John's, he built a fort. It was late one evening in June when the Frenchmen reached the spot where they intended to build the fort; wearied with their long march through the forest they lay down upon the ground and were soon fast asleep. But at day-break Laudonnière was astir.
Then the visitors' car drew up before an unpretentious looking house just off the main road. "If you will come inside," invited Captain Ribaut, "I know that our general of division will be delighted to meet you." Passing the two sentries at the front door the officers found themselves in a small ante-room. Excusing himself, Captain Ribaut left the Americans briefly, but was speedily back.
The men worked so well that in a very few days the fort was so far finished that it was fit to live in. Food and ammunition were brought from the ships, and a man named Albert de la Pierria was chosen as Governor. Then for the last time Ribaut gathered all the men together and took leave of those to be left behind.
Colonel Cleaves introduced his own officers, then added: "Gentlemen, it is intended that as many as possible of the officers of this regiment shall go to the fighting front and spend some time there studying the actual war conditions. You four have been chosen for the first detail. Captain Ribaut is going to take you there.
This will give society to the dark-eyed beauty by the Lagunitas who waits eagerly for her Miguel's return. At the Presidio the Commandante is feasted. In a few days his business is over. Riding over to the Mission Dolores, he finds a missionary priest from Acapulco. He is self-devoted to labor. Father Francisco Ribaut is only twenty-five years of age. Born in New Orleans, he has taken holy orders.
Scarcely was he gone, when tidings reached Madrid that Florida was already occupied by a colony of French Protestants, and that a reinforcement, under Ribaut, was on the point of sailing thither.
"Therefore, Captain Ribaut, suppose you send him with the patrol." "Thank you, sir," came Dick's quick assent. "Nothing could please me more. It will make to-night a time surely worth while to me." Before the meal had been finished the German artillerymen began the late afternoon "strafing," as a bombardment is called.
Lines are examined, witnesses probed, defensive measures taken. Maxime sits; catechizes the Don, the anxious Donna Juanita, and the padre. Wandering by the shores of Lagunitas, Valois notes the lovely reflection of the sweet-faced Dolores in the crystal waters. The girl is fair and modest. Francois Ribaut often wonders if the young man sees the rare beauty of the Spanish maiden.
Menendez met them courteously, caused wine and preserved fruits to be placed before them, he had come well provisioned on his errand of blood, and next led Ribaut to the reeking Golgotha, where, in heaps upon the sand, lay the corpses of his slaughtered followers.
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