A post from 2022:
If you take a close look at the name of the river flowing past St Augustine, you’ll see the word Matanzas.
Matanzas, as it turns out, is Spanish for massacre. The area named after a gentle man of God is a place of blood. In Spanish, El Lugar de la Matanzas.
It started with Pedro Menendez ordering the massacre of the Huguenots at Fort Carolina, located in what is now Jacksonville, Florida. They based their headquarters in a place they named St. Augustine. Two additional massacres of the French, whose hands were tied behind their backs after an implication of safety, immediately followed. At least one of the slaughters occurred on Anastasia Island, aka St Augustine Beach (where we stayed.) When I walk the beach searching for sea glass that could date from this time period, it will be difficult knowing Menendez, his men and possibly even the French Huguenot leader, Jean Ribault, walked the shore.
The Spanish weren’t the only ones doing the massacring. As we read in The Spaniards in Florida (I am not typing out that title again): “Among the converts at the mission of Talomato, was the son of the cacique of the province of Guale, a proud and high-spirited young leader, who by no means submitted to the requirements of his spiritual fathers, but indulged in excesses which scandalized his profession.”
Long story short, this young chief led a massacre against the monks in the area. Seems he was upset that they forbade him and the others to indulge in the excesses mentioned above, including the requirement that he have just one wife without immediately receiving the promised benefits of Christianity. (This is why we point out true Christianity is a product of being born again by the Spirit of God, not membership in a church, like a club.) Those monks paid for that mistake with their lives.
I love to visit historic cemeteries. They’re history books to me. But I can’t visit one in particular knowing one such monk was murdered nearby while praying.
I still look forward to visiting St Augustine. I’m sure I’ll love the town and the beach. I just have to keep history in its historical context and perspective, and just enjoy the time. On the other hand, I go honoring the memory of those who died for their faith. Their existence and sacrifice won’t be forgotten.
Update: We loved the place and plan to go back again sometime. It’s amazing.