All disputes soon disappeared in the face of a vast common misfortune.
Whatever internal symptoms of weakness might already display
themselves in the vast fabric of the Spanish empire, its rulers showed
as yet no lack of jealous watchfulness against any attempts to rival
her successes in America. The attempts of Cartier and Roberval[3] had
been watched, and the Spanish ambassador at Lisbon had proposed to the
King of Portugal to send out a joint armament to dispossess the
intruders. The king deemed the danger too remote to be worth an
expedition, and the Spaniards unwillingly acquiesced. An outpost of
fur traders in the ice-bound wilderness of Canada might seem to bring
little danger with it. But a settlement on the coast of Florida,
within some eight days' sail of Havana, with a harbor whence
privateers might waylay Spanish ships and even attack Spanish
colonies, was a rival not to be endured. Moreover, the colonists were
not only foreigners but Huguenots, and their heresy served at once as
a pretext and stimulus to Spanish zeal.

The man to whose lot it fell to support the monopoly of Spain against
French aggression was one who, if we may judge by his American career,
needed only a wider field to rival the genius and the atrocities of
Alva. Pedro de Menendez, when he had scarcely passed from boyhood, had
fought both against the French and the Turks, and had visited America
and returned laden with wealth. He then did good service in command of
the Spanish fleet in the French war, and his prompt cooperation with
the land force gave him a share in the glories of St. Quentin.[4] A
second voyage to America was even more profitable than the first, but
his misconduct there brought him into conflict with the Council of the
Indies, by whom he was imprisoned, and heavily fined. His previous
services, however, had gained him the favor of the court. Part of his
fine was remitted, and he was emboldened to ask not merely for pardon,