at the place where the French were anchored.  I will not dwell on this subject, on which there was a good deal said for and against, although the opinion of the general finally prevailed.  There were two thousand (hundred) Frenchmen in the seaport into which we were to force an entrance.  I made some opposition to the plans, and begged the general to consider that he had the care of a thousand souls, for which he must give a good account....

On Tuesday, the 4th, we took a northerly course, keeping all the time close to the coast.  On Wednesday, the 5th, two hours before sunset, we saw four French ships at the mouth of a river.[2] When we were two leagues from them the first galley joined the rest of the fleet, which was composed of four other vessels.  The general concerted a plan with the captains and pilots, and ordered the flag-ship, the San Pelayo, and a chaloupe to attack the French flag-ship, the Trinity, while the first galley and another chaloupe would attack the French galley, both of which vessels were very large and powerful.  All the ships of our fleet put themselves in good position; the troops were in the best of spirits, and full of confidence in the great talents of the captain-general.  They followed the galley; but, as our general is a very clever and artful officer, he did not fire, nor seek to make any attack on the enemy.  He went straight to the French galley, and cast anchor about eight paces from her.  The other vessels went to the windward, and very near the enemy.  During the maneuvers, which lasted until about two hours after sunset, not a word was said on either side.  Never in my life have I known such stillness.  Our general inquired of the French galley, which was the vessel nearest his, “Whence does this fleet come?” They answered, “From France.”  “What are you doing here?” said the Adelantado.  “This is the territory of King Philip II.  I order you to leave directly; for I neither know who you are nor what you want here.”

The French commander then replied, “I am bringing soldiers and supplies to the fort of the King of France.”  He then asked the name of the general of our fleet, and was told, “Pedro Menendez de Aviles, Captain-general of the King of Spain, who have come to hang all Lutherans I find here.”  Our general then asked him the name of his commander, and he replied, “Lord Gasto.”  While this parleying was going on, a long-boat was sent from the galley to the flag-ship.  The person charged with this errand managed to do it so secretly that we could not hear what was said; but we understood the reply of the French to be, “I am the admiral,” which made us think he wished to surrender, as they were in so small a force.  Scarcely had the French made this reply, when they slipped their cables, spread their sails, and passed through our midst.  Our admiral, seeing this, followed the French commander, and called upon him to lower his sails, in the name of King Philip, to which he