Historical Insights
by Daria Sockey
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The Sea Tiger: The Story of Pedro Menéndez (by Frank Kolars)
If my experience in school was typical, Spain’s contribution to American history began and ended with Columbus (the Italian captain of a Spanish expedition) in 1492. From there, it seemed that Spain confined itself to Mexico and South America, with the exception of Ponce de Leon’s silly search for the Fountain of Youth in Florida. As far as we knew, nothing much happened on the continental USA until the English came to Jamestown and Plymouth in the 1600s. So what a shock to read The Sea Tiger. To learn that, had the winds of fate shifted in a different direction, the bay stretching through Maryland might today bear the name Madre de Dios instead of Chesapeake!
There were two reasons for this ignorance (which I assume many of you shared with me). England, in the end, won the battle for conquest of the east coast. It was through revolution in English colonies that the political entity we call the United States of America was born. And it was the winners—Americans of English descent—who wrote our history books. History writers don’t just record facts—there are always far too many of these in all the sources they use for research. Rather, they select which facts to report in their narratives. This is especially true of school textbooks, which summarize and simplify complicated events for the capacity and attention span of children. The usual template has United States history starting in the thirteen colonies, and fanning out towards the west via explorers and pioneers. This makes some sense. But the other reason for the neglect of Spain is less benign. Those sons of England who wrote about history had an agenda regarding Spain. That agenda has been dubbed “The Black Legend.”
Protestant revolts of the 16th century sparked many wars between and within European nations. Perhaps no enmity was greater than that between England and Spain. England’s rejection of papal authority—which eventually lead to establishment of a new religion—began with Henry VIII’s enormous insult to Spain in rejecting his Spanish queen, Catherine of Aragon. From then on, the bitter religious conflict was bound up with both the struggle for power in Europe and the race to conquer the New World. The aftermath of this struggle included an ongoing propaganda effort to portray Spain’s New World activity in the worst possible light, ignoring the good and exaggerating the bad, while portraying England’s actions as everything that is noble and civilizing. Long after hostilities between the two nations subsided, English novels and history books perpetuated this Black Legend, and American authors absorbed the same prejudices. If the Spanish conquistadors were widely believed to excel all other colonizers in greed, cruelty, and treachery, then no wonder there was little desire to mention, let alone celebrate their accomplishments in our land.*
Therefore it was a wonderful opportunity to break away from pre-packaged “American History” and meet Pedro Menendez in The Sea Tiger. Few men are so prodigiously talented and so faithful to their life’s mission. His remarkable career began with a single-minded quest for justice—ridding the seas of piracy. His father’s painful explanation of how pirates, like a modern organized crime syndicate, had tentacles that reached into business and government everywhere, sets the stage for so much of what follows: Menendez’ drive to defeat them, the enemies in high places who thwart him at every turn, even his somewhat problematic decision to execute the denizens of Fort Caroline who surrendered to him.
Pedro Menendez’ faith was remarkable too. Following his King’s command (to establish and secure Spanish settlements in Florida) was bound up with converting the native Floridians to Christianity, but Menendez did far more than pay lip service to a company policy. He made a priority of befriending Indian tribes because of his zeal to see the gospel preached to a new people. It was faith in God’s providence that helped him to face every failure without discouragement and every success without complacency. He was not a saint, but a sinner who repented and kept moving along the path set before him.
*(If you wish to learn more about The Black Legend beyond short internet research, read Tree of Hate: Propaganda and Prejudices Affecting United States Relations With the Hispanic World by Phillip Wayne Powell.)
