Iberville unexpectedly finds the Spanish at Pensacola

by Jim Bradshaw

In 1692, Tonti sent a letter describing Louisiana's potential to Louis de Pontchartrain, French Minister of the Navy, hoping to rekindle support for La Salle's idea of linking forts from the Great Lakes to the Gulf of Mexico. In 1694, Tonti offered to attempt to settle a Louisiana colony. But it wasn't until 1697 that things began to fall into place.

In that year, the European war to dethrone William of Orange as King of England came to a sudden end. Without a war to fight, France had time and money to look again at Louisiana. The idea of colonizing Louisiana was given a further boost with the publication that year in Paris of "La Salle's Last Discoveries in America," a book based upon Tonti's memoirs.

Louis de Pontchartrain died, but his son Jérôme, who succeeded him, warned the French court that the British also had eyes on Louisiana, and the French would lose their claim to the Mississippi Valley without quick action.

The French court agreed, and chose Pierre Le Moyne, Sieur d'Iberville to lead an expedition to establish a settlement. Jérôme de Pontchartrain provided him with four ships, a company of marines, and about 200 settlers. Jean-Baptiste Le Moyne, Sieur de Bienville, Iberville's younger brother, and Father Anastase Douay, a survivor of the La Salle expedition, were to travel with Iberville.

On Oct. 24, 1698, Iberville's four ships sailed from Brest. At the same time, a powerful warship commanded by the Marquis de Chasteaurnorant was sent to Saint-Domingue with orders to join the Iberville expedition there and to provide it protection.

Iberville arrived at Saint-Domingue in early December and spent the remainder of 1698 making his final preparations. He could not get any exact information about the location of the Mississippi River and so, to make sure that he would not miss it as La Salle had done, he decided to sail to Pensacola and then to follow the coastline west until he came to the Mississippi.

Iberville did not know that the Spanish had settled at Pensacola, so it was quite a surprise to him when his fleet arrived at the entrance to the Pensacola harbor on Jan. 26, 1699, and, peering through the fog, spied the Spanish flag flying above a half-finished fort. The French fleet announced its presence by firing five blank cannon shots. The Spanish commandant, Andrés de Arriola, shot three cannon balls back, and sent out a boat to look over the ships. When he discovered that they were French, he immediately began to get ready for a fight.

At sunrise on Jan. 27, the French flagship fired a blank shot. Arriola fired a blank in response. Then, one of the ship's boats began to row toward the Spanish fort. Arriola, wanting to appear as strong as he could, stationed all of his men at their posts, arranging them so that only their heads could be seen. He did not want the French to see that they were half-naked and that only half of them were armed.

The Spanish commandant met the French boat on the beach and allowed only two men to land. They were taken to his headquarters, where all of his officers were assembled. The Frenchmen lied and said that they were searching the Gulf coast for some Canadian outlaws who were supposedly hiding there. They asked permission to enter the bay so that the fleet would be sheltered from storms and so that the crew could find firewood and fresh water.

Arriola refused. He said he had strict orders from his king to prevent any foreign ship from entering the bay. But he said he would send his sergeant-major and a good pilot to help anchor the ships in a safe place along the coast where wood and water could be found.

Francisco Martinez, the sergeant-major, was sent to the ships, along with a pilot and several other men. They were entertained on the French flagship, where the French told more lies: That the expedition included 1,000 men, a large number of cattle and horses, and plentiful supplies.

Chasteaumorant, as commander of the flagship, wrote a formal letter to Arriola. It contained a few more lies.

"The officer whom I sent you has doubtless acquainted you with the reason for which my master, the King of France, has ordered me to these coasts," the letter began. "For my own part, I greatly appreciate the compliments with which you honor me, and should like to have an opportunity of showing my appreciation. The necessity of securing wood and water obliges me to recur to the aid of Your Lordship. I therefore entreat you to allow the vessels of the king to enter the port in order that they may be sheltered in case of bad weather. As soon as we can supply our needs we shall begin our return voyage to France. The good union existing between the two crowns should induce you to grant this request. Moreover, I pledge my word that not a man shall go ashore except with your permission, and that there will be no trading except as you desire."

Arriola replied with a few lies of his own.

"I could not better manifest the esteem in which I hold your Lordship's person than by the letter which I wrote you to assure you of my friendship, and of my desire to serve you as far as it may he within my power. It grieves me exceedingly that I am not able to grant the request which your Lordship was pleased to communicate to me through your emissary, the ship lieutenant, and now repeat in your letter ... since I have express orders from my king and master (may God guard him) to prevent the entrance of any foreign vessels whatsoever. In view of this, and since Your Lordship understands with exactness that such sovereign orders must be obeyed, you will not consider me discourteous if I confess that my hands are tied, and that just as Your Lordship tries to serve your king, so I should strive to fulfill scrupulously what my master commands me to do. Nevertheless, in view of the courtesy due a person of Your Lordship's rank, and of the perfect union now existing between the two crowns, I offer to furnish you with wood and water through the labor of my own men, in case you do not find it convenient to use your own at the point immediately opposite the place where you are anchored, as I have given you to understand through the Lieutenant and my Sergeant-Major. I have also sent a pilot with orders to remove the ships to a safe position on the coast ... It thus appears I can frankly and in all amity assure Your Lordship that, according to the reports as to the size of your vessels, there is not sufficient depth in the channel for them to enter the bay. If Your Lordship or any officer wishes to land, you will be received and entertained as well as the resources of this isolated region permit. I protest against any action beyond that which I have offered to concede. I shalt consider any other measure as a manifest infraction of the peace secured at such great cost, and shalt be obliged to defend myself order not to violate the instructions of my king and master as specified above.

Arriola, had called the French bluff.

The next morning, the Spanish at Pensacola saw boats from the French ships sounding the channel to check its depth. Arriola sent out a messenger to tell the French to quit. They did.

Iberville's little fleet set sail from Pensacola on Jan. 30, heading west, which wasn't the way back to France. New Spain went on the alert again.