A New Hypotheses for the Location of the 1559 Tristan de Luna Settlement Site on Pensacola Bay: Part I Point of the Holy Cross

and

Appendix: The Cross Today, and the 1959 Spanish Village on Santa Rosa Island

by David B. Dodson
July 2026

One of the mysteries of the 1559 Luna Expedition has always been: “where was the actual settlement site?” No Luna period Spanish map has ever been found that pinpoints the settlement site, and documents from the expedition describing the site have been vague perhaps in defense from being captured by French corsairs. Also, recent archeological excavations by the University of West Florida (UWF) in today’s East Pensacola Heights near Bayou Texar in Pensacola have not irrefutably found the settlement site even though newspaper headlines, blogs, and public relations efforts would have you believe otherwise. ¹ No irrefutable scientific evidence of the European settlement has been archeologically-unearthed by UWF including extensive colonial fire hearths, refuse pits, structural remains, and burials. ²

At best, the excavations have found what earlier archeological assessments have concluded since T. S. Walker, under the auspices of the Smithsonian Institute, first investigated the site in 1882. Walker noted the presence of two Native burial mounds and artifacts, which were published in the annual report of the Smithsonian. ³ It appears through modern excavations that the oldest mound was close to the shore of Bayou Texar, ⁴ and another atop the 40-foot-high Pleistocene marine terrace ⁵ or “bluff” that extends into the bay that today is called Emanuel Point. ⁶ Eventually, the site was given the cultural heritage designation ⁷ of 8Es1 after a second visit by the Columbia University-National Park service survey in the 1940’s, although they reported that neither of the sand burial mounds remained. However, while the survey did not determine the extent of the site because of heavy vegetation, the surface collection of only 32 pottery artifacts indicated that the site could be associated with the Ft. Walton Period Culture ⁸ (circa 1100–1540 A.D.). In his volume titled Archeology of the Florida Gulf Coast, renowned archeologist Gordon R. Willey informs of the two surveys. ⁹

Both surveys determined that the site is an extensive landscape with the preponderance of Native artifacts indicating Native villages, but perhaps only indicating seasonal habitation. The 1940’s re-evaluation further indicates that modern street and city block layout had apparently eliminated any remnants of both mounds, but archeological excavations in the 1980’s re-discovered the remanences of the lower mound. ¹⁰

However, when the University of West Florida (UWF) archeologists were handed a few Spanish artifacts gleaned from a disturbed construction site atop the Emanuel Point terrace, it appears they purposely ignored the documented presence of the two Native burial mounds, and concluded that the European artifacts indicated that the Luna settlement had finally been discovered. Although very extensive archeological excavations were subsequently performed over a decade, nothing was found to irrefutably substantiate their claims. But to help corroborate their conclusions, the archeologists used the fact that two, hurricane shipwrecks (and eventually a third) from the Luna Expedition that were found in the adjacent bay waters, must have been at the settlement anchorage site. However, State of Florida Marine archeologist, Dr. Roger Smith, who first discovered and excavated the first shipwreck in the 1990’s, concluded that the vessel had floundered upon the Emanuel Point sandbar after the hurricane in September of 1559 had blown the ship there from another anchorage position, with the stern quarter deck serving as a sail in reverse. ¹¹

Dr. Smith supported his archeological findings with the support of a 1596 history (based on an eyewitness from 1559) that informed the winds of the hurricane were so strong that their anchor lines snapped and that the Luna fleet was scattered all over the bay. The history reads as translated by R. Wayne Childers:

On the 20th day of (sic) September ¹² and seven [days] of port, ¹³ came the most terrible storm and the wildest northerly that men have ever seen. As if the cables were threads of string, and the anchors were not of iron, thus yielding to the force of the wind. It tore loose the ships, and broke them into little pieces. ¹⁴

A letter written by Governor Luna to the King just days after the devastation stated that most of the ships of the Luna fleet had been sunk with the loss of many lives:

It is that on Monday, during the night of the nineteenth of this month of September [1559] there came up from the north a fierce tempest, which blowing for twenty-four hours from all directions until the same hour as it began, without stopping but increasing continuously, did irreparable damage to the ships of the fleet. [There was] great loss by many seamen and passengers, both of their lives as well as their property. All the ships which were in this port went aground (although it is one of the best ports there are in these Indies), save only one caravel and two barks, which escaped. ¹⁵

Importantly, Native mounds constructed during the 16^th century have been commonly known to contain European trade goods such as colorful glass beads, European ceramics, iron axes and other metal artifacts buried within that were foreign to the Natives and therefore would have been held in esteem. Burials of a cacique (chief) or somebody of importance to the Natives have been known to contain such artifacts. ¹⁶ This would obviously indicate some sort of contact with Europeans, or access to their gifts and trade goods in some manner; but not necessarily that the Europeans settled upon the site where the artifacts were found.

So, if the decades of archeological excavations in East Pensacola Heights have not yet proven the site to be the Luna settlement, the questions still persist: where would another possible settlement site be located on the bay?

Fortunately–while no Luna period maps from the 16^th century are presently known–there are several later maps from the 18^th century that HINT to where the Luna settlement site might actually be located; and that together with written period documents (and recent archeological excavations) give us a clue of where to search for another possible settlement site. This paper will investigate ONE of these maps along with the relevant cultural features or designations, that together with period documents, comprise TWO of the many clues that Contact Archeology, Inc (CAI) has discovered in the decades-long search for the Luna settlement site; and it concerns what is known as “the Point of the Holy Cross” along with “San Nicolás” as found on a 1756 Spanish map. The two elements will be discussed in Part1 and Part II, respectively.

Background:

Marking European Land Claims, Voyages, and Entradas

When the Portuguese first embarked upon what historians call the Age of Discovery to the late 15^th century, they began to mark their new territory claims along the coasts of Africa with stone markers called padrões. Diogo Cão was the first to erect such pillars in 1482-1484 with padrões carved and inscribed ahead of time in Portugal (Figure 2). Carried aboard the ships, Cão installed the first at the mouth of the Congo River in today’s Angola.

Figure 1. Depiction of Diogo Cão erecting the first padrões at the mouth of the Congo River in today’s Angola. ¹⁷

Likewise, in 1562 Jean Ribault erected a stone pillar or monument near the mouth of the St. Johns River when he made claim to the “abandoned Spanish lands” around todays Jacksonville, Florida (Figure 2); and he traveled north along the coast to establish Charlesfort at today’s Parris Island, South Carolina where he erected a second marble stele. That monument had also been pre-carved in France, and was eventually discovered in June of 1564 by the Spanish, dug up, and transported to Havana, Cuba in order to prove that they had found a point of French intrusion. ¹⁸ When René Goulaine de Laudonnière arrived in la Florida just a month later to establish Ft. Caroline near today’s Jacksonville, Florida, the son of Timucuan king Saturiwa, Athore, showed him the first monument Ribault had erected.

Figure 2. Depiction of Athore, the son of Timucuan king Saturiwa, showing René Goulaine de Laudonnière, the first marble pillar erected near today’s Jacksonville, Florida by Jean Ribault in 1562.

In April of 1607 upon arriving to what would be established as Jamestown on Cape Henry, Virginia, the English colonists erected a wooden cross inscribed with “Jacobus Rex” or King James to honor their monarch (Figure 3).

Figure 3. Old black and white photo of the memorial cross at Jamestown, Virginia erected in 1935 in honor of the original wooden cross erected in 1607. Note the treeless landscape, which today, is backdropped with tall trees and foliage. ¹⁹

The inscription probably was a deliberate effort to distinguish their cross from the simple, non-inscribed cross(s) the Spanish were known to have used in their discoveries and settlements; for the Spanish had always—since Christobal Columbus in 1492–erected at least one Christian cross made from two wooden planks from a ship or cut down trees to establish the Spanish claim (Figure 4); and typically, would erect more crosses up a bay or river to help pinpoint where they had established an encampment or settlement. The cross was a testament to their gratitude to God for a safe voyage and their Catholic faith, as well as their claim to the land.

Figure 4. Example of a wooden cross on a beach with the rolling surf in the background. ²⁰

Sometimes, the Spanish would even erect three large wooden crosses in repose representing the crucifixion of Christ on the mount of Calvary with the two criminals that were also crucified on either side. Governor Ángel de Villafañe, the second governor on the Luna Expedition, erected singular crosses as well as multiple crosses when searching out the Punta de Santa Elena on the east coast of la Florida in the summer of 1561 (Figure 5). ²¹

Figure 5. Three Christian Crosses set on a tall sand dune, which is similar to how the Spanish in the 16^th century would also mark their land claims or extent of their entrada up rivers or inland. ²²

Also, wooden crosses could be erected in forests on a prominent hill or even in a desert to establish claims, mark a path, warn off other European intruders, or even to mark the farthest extent of a discovery entrada (Figures 6 and 7). Francisco Vásquez de Coronado erected many wooden crosses on his search for the Seven Cities of Gold (Cibola) during his entrada into the American Southwest in 1540.

Figure 6. Depiction of a wooden Cross in forested hills. ²³

Figure 7. Depiction of a wooden cross on a sand dune on the edge of a desert. ²⁴

Such evidence is found in the period translations from testimonies and reports by participants on the expedition. Coronado historians Richard Flint and Shirley Cushing Flint transcribed several of these accounts from the original Spanish and provide translations in Documents of the Coronado Expedition, 1539-1542. ²⁵

Juan Bermejo, a soldier who took “a crossbow, a sword, dagger, and (sic) armor of the land,” ²⁶ testified the following in response to a prepared question that concerned the exploration and taking possessions of the lands the expedition traveled in the name of his Majesty, especially erecting crosses:

To the thirteenth question [Bermejo] answered that he knows it [to be] as it is referred to in [the question]. Asked how he knows it, he declared that [it is] because he saw it be and occur as the question states. He saw that crosses were erected in whatever places they reached, and they took possession in His Majesty’s name. This witness knows everything referred to in the question [concerning the erection of crosses] because he saw it and it happened that way. ²⁷

Pedro de Castañeda de Náherra’s Relación de la Jornado de Cíbola from 1560—a soldier who took “two horses and native arms and armor” ²⁸ on the expedition—wrote the following in his extensive account of the expedition concerning the erection of crosses to mark their journey:

In [those letters] he gave [Tovar] instructions about what he should do and that he was to go in pursuit of the expedition. [Vázquez de Coronado wrote] wrote that [Tovar] would find letters beneath the crosses at the daily encampments the expedition would have to make. ²⁹

Juan Xaramillo (who later served as a valuable and dependable military captain on the Luna Expedition) as a regular soldier with Coronado, took “three horses, native arms and armor, [and] a corselet,” ³⁰ —wrote in a Relación:

With the aforementioned accord we turned back, I do not know whether for two days travel or three, to where we packed our supply of shelled green corn and dry corn, so that we could return. At this camp the general raised a cross, at the foot of which some letters were carved with a chisel. They said that Francisco Vázquez de Coronado, general of that armed force, reached there. ³¹

Likewise, during the same period of the 1540’s the Soto Entrada to the American Southeast erected crosses, especially to indicate the superiority of their God and their king. The king’s representative, Luys Hernandez de Biedma, recorded the following as to when the entrada was encamped at the Native town of Casqui. The translations by Edward Bourne in the Narratives of the Career of Hernando De Soto reads as follows:

The governor (Soto) commanded that a very tall cross be made of two pines … Arriving to [the town and] as is the custom of the Caciques (Chiefs) to have near their houses a high hill, made by hand, some having the houses placed thereon, we set up the cross on the summit of a mount, and we all went on bended knees, with great humility, to kiss the foot of that

cross. ³²

Another account of erecting a cross took place while in the land of the Quarquí. Soto’s private secretary, Rodrigo Ranjel, stated the following:

The next day following, Thursday, they entered the land of Quarquí, and passed through small villages…It was Saturday when they entered his village, and it was very good cabins, and, in the principal one, over the door, were many heads of very fierce bulls, just as in

Spain, noblemen who are sportsmen mount the heads of wild boars or bears. There the Christians planted the cross on a mound, and [the Natives] received it and adored it with much devotion, and the blind and lame came to seek to be healed. ³³

Thus, it can be seen that for the Spanish the use of the cross to stake claims to the land for God and King, assert Spanish control or dominance, mark boundaries, or delineate a path through the hinterlands a common practice, and an important element that gave tangible notice to the Spanish themselves and reminded them of their Holy Catholic faith, and served as warnings to other European powers. The Luna colony was no exception to the land claim marker tradition. The proof is in the written history of the settlement.

The Reality of the First Landing at Pensacola Bay

The ships of the Luna Expedition had departed the ports at Veracruz in New Spain (today’s Mexico) on June 11, 1559. While 16^th-century historian Dávila Padilla writes in his 1596 printed history ³⁴ that “God gave them good weather for their sailing and while enjoying it, they made sail with contentment… ³⁵ and that “the wind continued to blow beneficially so that in one month, it carried them to the land of Florida,” ³⁶ this was actually not the case. While the fleet initially had good winds sailing northward from Veracruz, the strong currents of the Gulf and unfavorable winds took charge, and set a meandering course for the fleet. The planned two-to-three-week voyage turned into a 65-day odyssey, that included unplanned stops near today’s St. Andrew Bay, Florida ³⁷ and inside Mobile Bay, and the loss of over 150 valuable war-horses—but without the loss of one human life. Eventually, Ochuse was located and the fleet finally laid anchor at the mouth of the bay on Monday, August 14^th, and since it was the eve of the Day of the Assumption (or Ascension) of the Blessed Virgin Mary—the occasion was honored by renaming the bay the Bahía de Santa Maria y Filipina in honor of The Virgin Mary and King Philip II. ³⁸ The following morning the ships navigated the sandbars at the entrance of the bay, and sailed to the mainland where the soldiers and colonists eagerly went ashore.

Unlike the modern pageantry that represents a smooth and choregraphed landing, the actual landing appears to have been somewhat chaotic. The voyage had been so long and arduous that when the final destination was at hand, some of the colonists did not wait to be ferried by row boats, ³⁹ but chose instead to jump into waters up to their necks and wade ashore. ⁴⁰ With much work to be done–unloading the people, equipment, tent shelters, and food supplies–that it was perhaps not until late afternoon that the Dominican friars would have assembled the people to appropriately celebrate a Mass with thankful prayers for their safe arrival.

There was no immediacy for the erection of a cross as a claim of discovery, for that had been established many years prior by early Spanish explorers and solidified by the well-known entrada to the American Southeast by Hernando de Soto in the early 1540’s. The fabulous tales by the survivors that eventually arrived to Mexico City in 1543 had even permeated throughout Europe under the auspices of Charles V—Holy Roman Emperor and King of Spain. By 1557 the account of the expedition had been printed by a Portuguese author as A True Relation of the Hardships Suffered by Don Fernando de Soto and His Men in the Discovery of the Province of Florida; ⁴¹ the land was recognized as part of the Spanish Empire and the indigenous populations subjects of the Spanish Crown. Further, in the years 1539-1540, the known bay of Ochuse (Pensacola Bay) had been visited and probably utilized by Francisco de Maldonado in the attempts to re-supply the Soto Entrada, ⁴² and in the winter of 1558-1559 military Captain Juan Renteria and maritime pilot Gonçales Gayon re-discovered the bay, and searched out geographical locations within it, in order that Viceroy Luis de Velasco could choose the best site where the Luna Expedition could establish a settlement later that year. ⁴³ Sending 1,500+ soldiers and colonists to a bay without firm information of where the Spanish were going to go ashore and make an encampment—and eventually a settlement—could not be left to chance nor to the discretion of Governor Luna who had no experience in such matters. ⁴⁴ Indeed, the fact that Viceroy Velasco had sent out two reconnaissance to scout and map the Gulf Coast and the bay of Ochuse attests to his concerns for thoroughness in implementing the king’s orders.

Thus, during the busy day of August 15, 1559 after methodically unloading the supplies and provisions aboard the ships and making an encampment would have probably given the accompanying Aztec craftsmen ⁴⁵ –under the direction of the Dominican friars–the opportunity to construct and erect a large wooden cross on the shoreline; a worthy cross made from large trees, deliberately hewn and squared, and assembled to mimic the one Christ died upon at Calvary. The cross would appropriately designate the settlement for God and King, be a point of focus to celebrate the mass and the reverent Feast Day, and importantly, serve as a visual beacon since the settlement site may have been situated a distance up a bayou and not been seen by an arriving ship. ⁴⁶

A hastily erected cross of simple tree poles would have perhaps been inadequate if not blasphemous since no mariner, soldier, nor colonist appears to have died on the extremely convoluted voyage. ⁴⁷ Indeed, the day dedicated to Ascension of the Virgin Mary had been designated a Major Feast Day by the Provincial Council of 1555 ⁴⁸ and all the exceptional labors of the day by the expedition also needed to be atoned for; ⁴⁹ and the strict Dominican friars would have vehemently ensured the holy observation, at least before the day had ended. To have disrespected the Mother of Christ would have likely been perceived as an egregious sin for

all–along with a poorly constructed Cross–risked future blessings for the success of the expedition. ⁵⁰

A Cross Erected at Ochuse

There are presently no known letters or reports from people on the Luna Expedition that mention a cross being erected along the shore of Pensacola Bay even after the bay was named in honor of the Virgin Mary and King Philip II; ⁵¹ but the previous discussions above inform that common expectations or practices were not something that needed to be written down. Thus, the only mention of a cross is found in a history compiled by Dominican Friar Agustín Dávila Padilla, which was first printed in 1596 and popularly reprinted in 1625. ⁵² The 815-page volume is commonly referred to as “Dávila Padilla” or Historia because of its extensive title: Historia de la Fundación y Discurso de la Provincia de Santiago de México de la Orden de Predicadores por las vidas de sus varones insignes y casos notables de Nueva España; translated as History of the Foundation and Speech of the Province of Santiago de México of the Order of Preachers through the lives of its illustrious men and notable events. ⁵³ The relevant chapters concerning the Luna Expedition were taken from a prior history written by a Dominican friar on the expedition, Domingo de la Anunciación (and others), and further expanded by a personal interview of the aged and blind Anunciación in 1591 by Dávila Padilla himself. ⁵⁴

If one could sum up the whole experience of the soldiers and colonists on the expedition, it would be an incessant struggle to survive dire hunger; and yet there is not one mention of ever lacking drinking water inasmuch as there was plenty of water at the settlement on Pensacola Bay (headwater springs at Bayou Chico?). The inland settlement at Nanipacana was situated along the fresh waters of the Lower Alabama River, and every military reconnaissance and forage for food was conducted upon or following rivers. But importantly to the suffering from hunger, barely one month after the fleet of the Luna Expedition had finally arrived to the bay of Ochuse (Pensacola Bay) carrying enough food “for a year,” ⁵⁵ a hurricane swept in on the night of September 19-20, 1559 sinking all of the large ships that still stored half the food supply; ⁵⁶ and lacking a protective warehouse, ⁵⁷ the heavy rains had dampened and spoiled most of the foodstuff, which had been taken ashore. ⁵⁸ From that point onward, hunger and survival became the primary elements to describe the expedition.

The chapters in Historia (as well as the documents in The Luna Papers by Priestley and other archival documents) relate the many stories or events of the expedition besides starvation, which included peaceful interactions and confrontations with the Native populations; leadership infighting between Governor Luna, his military captains, the soldiers, and the friars; heroic efforts and deeds by soldiers; and deaths of both colonists and soldiers through starvation, eating poisonous plants, and sharp arrows delivered by the Natives. Compounding all the negative events that occurred in la Florida was the fact that all the re-supply efforts after the hurricane—although well planned and appropriately supplied by Viceroy Velasco without negligence–were always late arriving due to weather in New Spain, seasonal sailing windows, and the lack of enough medium-sized ships to make the re-supply voyage to la Florida after the hurricane had destroyed the primary fleet. It was a continuous crescendo of bad luck!

In short, by November of 1560 there were around 450 soldiers holding the settlement at Pensacola Bay ⁵⁹ with all the colonists, non-essential peoples, sick soldiers, and some of the friars having been evacuated in the ships that had delivered a second re-supply in late July of 1560, and a third re-supply in early November 1560.

In the meantime—having gained a new perspective of the situation of the expedition at Pensacola Bay through numerous communications besides just from Governor Luna–Viceroy Velasco put his energies into rescuing the expedition for the crown and assured Luna in a letter dated October 2, 1560 that many re-supply ships from New Spain, Spain, Havana, and even Santo Domingo would arrive to Pensacola Bay by the spring of the following year. ⁶⁰ With all those provisions and available ships, Viceroy Velasco had remained confident that the expedition could still proceed with the primary goal of reaching the Punta de Santa Elena; but this time, it would be achieved with a fleet of well provisioned ships as the king had so ordered in his December 18, 1559 cedula. ⁶¹ In the interim , Viceroy Velasco had hoped that vessels sailing back to Pensacola Bay from Havana might have arrived with enough provision for the expedition to carry them over till spring. ⁶²

However, such re-supplies were not forthcoming or had been minimal, as the narrative in Historia informs that for five months during the fall-winter of 1560-1561, ⁶³ the military contingent remaining at Pensacola began to experience the throes of sickness and starvation once more. Friars Domingo de la Anunciación and Domingo de Salazar—who had both returned to the bay with the reconnaissance from Coosa—tried to ease the suffering with hope through religious faith, and began to lead daily religious processions from the very modest church that had been constructed at the settlement to The Cross that had been erected on the shoreline. The long trek was made with everyone participating in a friar-led litany (an alternating and repetitive religious prayer) based on the power and sacred meaning of The Cross. Indeed, as most Catholics wore a metal cross on a fine chain or cord around their necks as a sign of their faith and as a talisman for personal protection, Anunciación wore a reliquary around his neck ⁶⁴ that was said to contain a sliver of wood from the True Cross ⁶⁵ on which Christ was crucified. ⁶⁶ He had been sent the very holy relic by his older brother, Dominican Friar Hernando de Paz, who had obtained the reliquary (and others) while in Rome. ⁶⁷ It is written that with the reliquary, Anunciación was able to heal the sick and perform many miracles while in la Florida. ⁶⁸

Corresponding to this special devotion to the symbol of The Cross was also Anunciación’s devout meditation and oration of what is known as the Passion of Christ: the story of the last days of Christ on Earth from entering triumphantly into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday; the Last Supper; the Prayer and arrest at the Garden of Gethsemane; subsequent accusations and trial by the Romans; torture; crucifixion, death and burial, and ultimately, his resurrection. By the 16^th century, fourteen panels—referred to as the Stations of The Cross—were common to record the events of The Passion, and were typically placed on walls within a large church. Smaller chapels typically set up the panels outside along pathways for congregants to pray. Since the church at the Luna settlement was a minimal open-air church, it is possible that the Dominican friars erected the stations on poles surrounding the open field in front of the church or along a path that ended at the Point of the Holy Cross.

Thus, with the procession being led by such fervent disciples as Friars Anunciación and Salazar, everyone that followed had sincere hope that God would hear their supplications for the re-supply ships to finally arrive to the bay and deliver them from their sufferings. The narrative by Dávila Padilla translates as follows:

Five months were spent in these discords. Each day they made a procession from a hut ⁶⁹ made of branches where they said Mass, until [they arrived at] a cross that was on the shore. Many persons viewed the Cross devoutly, and their hearts knew to ask for mercy to the one as is the custom, //224.5// having given [His] life for all. With the discords the hunger increased, [as well as] the inflammatory sayings and confrontations. And as the fire of charity all suffer and all expect it (as the Apostle said) thus the discord suffered nothing, not one conniving thing, ⁷⁰ but that all were converted into its poison, all of it resulting in the sadness of the friars, ⁷¹ who as they were the most desirous of the remedy, were the most afflicted with the injury.

The blessed friars had continued their processions and litanies, and also prosecuted with their passion the animosity, by whomever made it. It was a thing of devotion, to see the two fathers ⁷² depart singing the Litany, accompanied by the greater part of the people. They left their poor hut ⁷³ which served as a church, and arrived near the cross on the shore, from where they would return; as if saying to God, that if the trail were longer, they would walk further, in order to receive his divine mercy in remedy of so many miseries. ⁷⁴

After the many months of asking for divine deliverance, relief finally came to the starving colony during the first week of April 1561 when a new replacement Governor and Captain-General, Ángel de Villafañe, arrived with many ships very well supplied with provisions. ⁷⁵ There had been enough supply ships that Governor Luna was given license and his own vessel to sail to Havana where he could seek voyage in a fleet bound for Spain to make an account of the expedition and seek remuneration from the Spanish Crown for his efforts and personal financial investment in the expedition. ⁷⁶ Shortly after Luna’s departure most of the remaining soldiers and servants were also evacuated to Havana with orders to sail directly to the Punta de Santa Elena; and if possible, establish a settlement. Governor Villafañe left behind a contingency of around 50 soldiers to occupy Pensacola Bay ⁷⁷ until the Viceroy Velasco received further orders from the king expressing his desires of what was to be done with the settlement there; for any confrontation with the French was going to be along the Atlantic Coast as originally intended by the crown. ⁷⁸ However, the expedition by Villafañe had found the marshy lands of the Punta de Santa Elena unsuitable for a new settlement, ⁷⁹ and he returned the expedition to New Spain. Further, in November of 1561 all the soldiers that had been left to secure the settlement on Pensacola Bay were evacuated. Since most of the primary structures in the settlement were constructed with crown monies and therefore owned by the king, those buildings would have been secured and locked, and the settlement simply been left “as is” unsure if the Spanish would be ordered to return; and The Cross reverently left where it stood overlooking the bay, still signaling evidence of Spanish dominion.

After the Soto Entrada of the 1540’s the recognition of Spanish claims to la Florida went mainly unchallenged by other European powers for decades, with the French choosing to just prey upon the Spanish treasure ships and sack coastal towns around Caribbean waters. But in 1562, totally unaware of the secretive Luna Expedition of 1559, ⁸⁰ and believing that the Spanish had abandoned la Florida, the French actively sought to establish their own claims and make settlements in la Florida. The French sent expeditions to the east coast of la Florida where they erected marble monuments (See Figure 2, above) ⁸¹ and constructed Ft. Charles in 1562 and Ft. Caroline in 1564. However, the slaughter of the French intruders in 1565 by Admiral Pedro Menéndez de Avilés and the establishment of St. Augustine in the same year solidified Spanish dominion over la Florida.

Don Carlos de Siguénza Returns to Ochuse in 1693

Subsequently, Spanish claim to la Florida held steady for over 120 years until the 1680’s when the French–firmly settled in the Great Lakes and the Upper Mississippi River–began to expand their inland presence down the Mississippi River drainage and along the Texas coast with the explorations by René-Robert Cavelier, Sieur de La Salle. As a result of this expansion and land claims, the Spanish decided that the northern Gulf Coast of la Florida might need to be fortified and settled to ward off encroachment by the French towards la Florida and excursions by French ships into the Gulf of Mexico. Up until that time, the Gulf of Mexico had been basically controlled if not owned by Spain. ⁸² Knowing that the abandoned bay of Ochuse (aka. Bahía de Santa María de Filipina and today as Pensacola Bay) had been considered one of the best deep-water harbors along the northern Gulf Coast, the bay was searched out again for potential settlement; and rediscovered in 1686. ⁸³ But with the treasury bankrupt at Veracruz, Mexico and salaries in arrears, ⁸⁴ it took until 1692 until the viceroy of New Spain was able to send a reconnaissance to survey the bay for a possible Spanish fortification. The man chosen to lead the expedition was (the soon to be) Admiral Andrés de Pez–a very capable and ambitious naval officer, an adamant enemy of the French, and a war hero that also held influence at the Spanish court. Pez had made Spanish expansionism on the Gulf Coast a very personal matter, especially in the possibility of establishing a new province in which he might be appointed the governor. ⁸⁵ To thoroughly execute the reconnaissance, Pez was teamed with Carlos de Siguenza y Gongóra for the expedition. (Figure 8).

Figure 8. Portrait of Don Carlos de Siguenza y Gongora, the Jesuit priest, mathematician, and all around well-learned scholar who compiled the first accurate map of the Pensacola Bay area in 1693. ⁸⁶

Siguenza was a Jesuit priest, mathematician, scientists, and all around well-learned scholar whose report would be considered credible to the crown. In preparation, Siguenza did his due diligence and studied all the documents and writings in New Spain he could find concerning the bay including that of Francisco de Maldonado of the Soto Expedition, ⁸⁷ the re-finding of the bay in 1586, ⁸⁸ as well as the earlier Luna Expedition as presented in Historia by Dávila Padilla. ⁸⁹ Other documents concerning the Luna Expedition were apparently not easily accessible in New Spain and limited copies located only in the archives of the Council of the Indies in Spain; ⁹⁰ and importantly, most of the detailed communications concerning the expedition sent by Luna and others ⁹¹ to Viceroy Velasco had been “lost” or whisked away along with much of the viceroy’s papers to prevent public scrutiny after the viceroy died unexpectantly in 1564 while still in office. ⁹² Thus, without Viceroy Velasco alive to defend his tenure, spurious accusations ⁹³ could be made by his adversaries in New Spain and damage his legacy and smear the family name. I believe that his son, also named Luis de Velasco, took charge of his father’s papers as protection and safely secured them; but as of today, nobody knows where! ⁹⁴

In any case, armed with what knowledge Siguenza was able to glean about the history of prior expeditions to Pensacola Bay, the meagerly financed reconnaissance arrived safely to the entrance of Pensacola Bay on April 7, 1692 with only a fragata ⁹⁵ and a smaller vessel–a war sloop ⁹⁶ –which was to be utilized for the inland survey. Upon entering the mouth the next morning, Siguénza wrote the following as presented by Irving A. Leonard in Spanish Approach To Pensacola, 1698-1693:

…All this recalled to my mind, too, that this was the same bay to which Marshal Don Tristán de Luna y Arellano came, at the command of the king, Philip II, and order of Don Luis de Velasco the first, viceroy at that time of New Spain, with a fleet of fourteen vessels to colonize this region. This undertaking was unsuccessful because of dissensions among the leaders. As I recalled that on that occasion Don Tristán’s expedition gave this bay the name of Santa María because the great fleet sailed in on August 14, ⁹⁷ it seemed to me only right not to cheat the bay of such an honored name. So, chanting the Te Deum

Laudamus ⁹⁸ as best I knew how in the presence of her divine image because of the blessings that we had received up to then from her holy hand, I named it, in a prayer especially made for this occasion, the bay of Santa María de Galve, and Admiral Don Andrés de Pez ordered that it should be inscribed thus upon the charts. ⁹⁹

For the next twenty days Siguenza did a cursory survey of the shores of the bay area, taking measurements and recording sailing directions as well as recognizing the most of important geographical features such as rivers, bayous, creeks, and peninsulas that made the shores jagged, although not all the tributaries and adjacent lands were walked upon or thoroughly investigated. ¹⁰⁰ The map he compiled is presented below (Figure 9).

Figure 9. Map of the Bahía de Santa María (todays Pensacola Bay area) created by Carlos de Siguénza in 1693. ¹⁰¹ The ancient bay of Ochuse was re-christened the Bahía de Santa María de Galve, the latter being also in honor of the present viceroy, José Sarmiento de Valladares, who also held the title of Count of Galve. The different colors of the shorelines (red, blue, and yellow) probably represent how Siguenza summarily broke down how he recorded his working or preliminary report as he surveyed the bay area.

Importantly, after Siguenza had left the river delta of today’s Escambia River, he sailed south along the western barren red bluffs that overlook the bay and form the rim surmounted by today’s Scenic Highway. He then rounded a point he called Punta de Vivero, ¹⁰² which is today called Emanuel Point ¹⁰³ in East Pensacola Heights. From there he found the shoreline extending to the southwest very inviting and immediately encountered today’s Bayou Texar, which he named Estero (estuary) de Aramburu ¹⁰⁴ (Figure 10).

Figure 10. Cropped close-up of Figure 8 showing today’s Bayou Texar (top) which he named Estere de Aramburu, and later, Bayou Chico (bottom-left, outlined in yellow), which he named Estero de Yztacalco.

Siguenza wrote of the following concerning today’s Bayou Texar:

We went a good half league southwest by west from Vivero point to another tip of land; noting a little cove in the middle of this inlet, we pushed into it and found, after a lengthy investigation, that it was an estuary which we called Aramburu. We went ashore and, amidst the profusion of balm-gentle and other fragrant herbs, which we had never seen before, covering the fields (where there were hazelnut trees, according to the statements of members of the party who identified them), found loose stones of the same color and weight as observed elsewhere, The many clusters of unripe grapes on the profusion of vines, literally shearing off the branches of the trees, were here the largest and choicest. ¹⁰⁵

Siguénza then proceeded to sail southward along the shoreline where he spotted a “tiny estuary” (later named Rio de San Francisco), ¹⁰⁶ and then passed onward arriving to the Estero de Yztacalco (or Iztacalco, ¹⁰⁷ today’s Bayou Chico) with a small island(s) protecting the mouth (Figures 10 and 11).

Figure 11. Close-up of a composite map of the bay of Santa María de Galve, delineated by Don Andrés de Arriola ca. 1698 showing his earlier explorations–ca.1694-1696 probably when he was harvesting timber for ship spars and other maritime products–in conjunction with a map of the 1698 fortification and town as ordered by Viceroy Conde de Moctezuma. The map shows the bayous noted by Siguénza: (proceeding from top to bottom): Estero de Aramburu (Bayou Texar), Rio de San Franciso (River of San Francisco, originally called a “tint estuary” and unnamed by Siguénza) and Estero de Yztacalco (Bayou Chico). ¹⁰⁸

Siguenza had the sloop enter the estuary and noted its grand qualities, but apparently did not go ashore as he had done at Bayou Texar. He wrote the following observations:

Then we sailed southwest by west between the quarter and the wind, that is, at an angle of thirty-nine degrees from west to south, until we came to another point a league and three-quarters away. We found that it was formed by a tiny islet shutting off an estuary; we went into the latter by a channel to the north; its entrance bar was about six spans deep at high tide. ¹⁰⁹ (Of all the places visited up to then none was more delightful than this spot, and, since it closely resembles Yztacalco in Mexico City, we gave it that name). In this estuary and the previous one there are many oysters; judging by the tumbled-down bohíos, or fishermen’s huts, on the banks, it is doubtless much frequently by the Indians in the summer time, which is the season when they came down to their fisheries on the seacoast after preparing their inland cornfields. ¹¹⁰

Without counting the trees already mentioned in today’s report, the whole shore that we saw was thickly covered by them, especially walnuts and pines, and all large. Between Aramburu and Yztacalco is another tiny estuary which is not very deep, and also a small creek of fresh water. ¹¹¹ As there was no daylight left for anything else, we spent the night between the islet and the mainland. ¹¹²

Around April 18^th, Siguenza had completed his survey of the northern shoreline and sailed over to Santa Rosa Island near the mouth of the bay where the fragata was anchored. The next several days were spent thoroughly sounding the mouth as well as gathering firewood and fresh water for the return voyage to New Spain, and especially repairing a broken mast of the sloop that had “miraculously” held together. ¹¹³ After replacing the mast, Siguenza realized how fortunate and safe the reconnaissance had been and decided that special prayers of gratitude to God were in order. He had the mariners take the broken mast and construct it into a large cross to erect as a memorial. From the shoreline, Siguenza led the men inland in a solemn procession saying litanies as they carried the cross to a prominent site on the point overlooking the mouth of the bay. Siguenza wrote in his report of the morning of April 25^th the following:

When the damage to the old mast was realized after bringing it ashore [at the mouth and eastern point of the bay], the fact that it had not given way under the buffetings [of the wind] sustained was attributed to a miracle. So, in order to express to God, our Lord, due appreciation of this favor and, at the same time, bless such an extraordinarily beautiful bay with the presence of the holy cross, we constructed one from the old mast. After Mass was said on Saint Mark’s Day, April 25, amidst the leafy trees on Siguenza point, the litanies were sung in procession. On reaching the spot selected the cross was easily set up, and, with everyone on his knees in adoration of this symbol (while I repeated the hymn, Vexilla Regis), ¹¹⁴ the artillery of the fragata and the sloop was discharged in the general rejoicing. ¹¹⁵

With this ceremony, there appears to be little doubt that Siguenza had been thinking of the many processions the Dominican friars and starving soldiers had previously made on a trail to a similar cross erected over 120 years earlier that marked the Luna settlement. However, in the report Siguenza submitted to the Viceroy in New Spain, there is no mention of coming across any remnants of the 1559 settlement, nor does Siguenza speculate as to where it might have been located; but this could be due to the fact that it appears Siguenza made most of his observations and geographical notes from the sloop and minimized his ventures ashore. ¹¹⁶ Further, too much discussion of the failed Luna Expedition might have been politically unwise, as Admiral Pez would have wanted to minimize any memories of previous Spanish failures in any reports. Ultimately, with word of the French planning a settlement somewhere along the northern Gulf Coast, the Spanish hastily sent Andrés de Arriola in 1698 to establish a fortification to occupy and protect the bay at Pensacola. When the French fleet arrived to the bay, a half-finished fortification served to discourage the intruders, and they sailed onward to the west. Thus, the Spanish once again began to establish a presence along the shores of the bay.

A 1756 Map that Hints as to the Luna Settlement Site?

Fifty-nine years following Siguenza’s survey of Pensacola Bay, and after two different Spanish settlement sites had been occupied on the bay, ¹¹⁷ another hurricane in 1752 totally devastated the island town of Pensacola (Figure 21, as depicted in a 1743 drawing, below in the Appendix), and the survivors took shelter on the mainland at a warehouse located where today’s historic Seville Square is situated in downtown Pensacola. ¹¹⁸ After a previous hurricane in 1751 the commandant had constructed a warehouse within a stockade called San Miguel to store part of the foodstuff ¹¹⁹ to avoid “the storms and high tides” that always afflicted the island town. ¹²⁰ That location appears to have also been utilized by timbering parties returning from another stockade located in-between the mouths of today’s Escambia and Blackwater Rivers, ¹²¹ to seek temporary shelter until favorable winds would allow the sailing vessels to cross the bay to the island town. The location of the stockade and warehouse at San Miguel was a relatively high point of land surrounded by lowlands with freshwater creeks, and strategically situated so the island town and the warehouse could have a view of one another, perhaps allowing communications via flags of various shapes and colors. ¹²²

In 1713 with the Treaty of Utrecht the Bourbon families held the crowns of both Spain and France, and fear from the French to the west of Pensacola in Louisiane was somewhat abated, although family rivalries in Europe had historically seen some of the worst wars. Indeed, in 1719 Pensacola was captured by the French from Mobile, and it was not until 1729 and the Treaty of Seville ¹²³ that a more lasting peace between the two nations became a reality. However, the fear from the French had been replaced earlier by the rise of a united England known formally since 1707 as Great Britain. Her colonies dominated the eastern seaboard of North America limiting Spanish presence on the mainland of America’s Southeast to the coastal presidio (or protected settlement) of St. Augustine on the Atlantic coast with its stone and bastioned fortification, the Castillo San Marcos. Similarly, the Castillo de los Tres Reyes Del Morro in Havana guarded the southern Gulf of Mexico; and together, the two fortifications were the only true anchors for the tenuous Spanish control of the Gulf of Mexico, the Bahamian Channel, and navigation for the treasure fleets voyaging to Spain. On the other hand, Pensacola, which served as the most western boundary of Spanish Florida, was a presidio in name only consisting of a collection of wattle and daub huts, a church that had evolved from the former warehouse that had once provided shelter after the 1752 hurricane, and lacked any defendable fortification; that was the poor and humble state of the presidio at Pensacola in 1756 with its natural and unprotected deep-water port.

Thus, when the new Viceroy Agustín de Ahumada y Villalón, 2nd Marqués of Amarillas (1755–1760) arrived to Mexico City in November of 1755, the decision had already been made by the crown ¹²⁴ to relocate the presidio on Pensacola Bay from Santa Rosa Island to a more defensive position on the mainland; a site where—for all intents and purposes—had already been established by the soldiers and settlers in order to survive.

Viceroy Amarillas–as he is more commonly referred to—had concluded that the “new” presidio on the mainland needed to be appropriately fortified and manned with soldiers similar to St. Augustine. Besides having a strong fortification for defense, the infusion of 500 soldiers (along with their families) would help develop a local economy with trade reserved only for Spanish towns and provinces, minimizing the interaction with the French in Mobile and New Orleans, and perhaps eliminating smuggling with British ships that occasionally sailed by. ¹²⁵

The new superintendent of the Spanish Corp of Engineers for New Spain, Agustin López de la Camara Alta, who arrived from Spain with the new viceroy, had been given the task over Filipe Feringan—the on-site engineer at Pensacola. ¹²⁶ Alta quickly drew a plan (or already had one prepared in Spain) of a European styled fortification that mimicked the one at St. Augustine (Figures 12 and 13).

Figure 12. Photo of the Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augustine, mainly constructed between 1672 to 1695.

It was to be located–not affronting the bay where ships cannon could inflict damage–but up today’s Bayou Texar, where larger land-based cannons could effectively attack the ships from afar (Figure 10, Letter B). It was to be masonry with bastions, guard towers, and moats based on the tenants of fortification made prominent by the master fortifications designer, Sébastien Le Prestre, Marquis de Vauban.

It should be also noted at this juncture that across the bayou from the proposed castillo or fort site, is the peninsula with the designation letter G, with the corresponding Key designating the land as “Terreno bueno para fabríca de loza y Ladrillo,” or “Good terrace for manufacturing lime and Bricks.” This terrace is the same area known today as East Pensacola Heights, and where in 1882 S. T. Walker found an abundance of Native artifacts and recognized two Native burial mounds; the same site where UWF archeologists attempted from 2015 to 2024 to verify the site as the Luna settlement–but did not find irrefutable evidence.

Figure 13. The 1756 proposed Plan of the Bay and Port of Santa Maria de Galbe, and of the Presidio called Panzacola, dated March 12, 1756 showing the proposed bastioned fortification (left-hand side) with explanations below. ¹²⁷ The depicted half-moon fortification on the right-hand side of the map was proposed to be constructed to guard the mouth of Pensacola Bay near the 1698 fortification site of Santa María de Galve that had been constructed by Governor Andrés de Ariola to fend off French intrusion.

However, while the map by Alta shows a town, proposed fortifications, and presents an extensive map legend and explanations below, the map also has some unusual if not controversial geographical/shoreline characteristics that need clarification; and for now, it is appropriate to hypothesize that before arriving to New Spain, Alta began assembling his map from centuries-old sketches of the bay he had found in the archives in Spain, and perhaps from the recent reports (and attached drawings?) informing of the damage from the two hurricanes of 1740 and/or the ones from 1751 and 1752. This would especially explain the heavy scouring of the southern shoreline of the Santa Rosa Island peninsula, knowing that the hurricane waters had temporarily cut through the island during several hurricanes. ¹²⁸ Reports (along with drawings?) of the 1752 hurricane damage to the island presidio had made their way from New Spain to the Council of the Indies in Seville, Spain by late 1753 mid 1754 enough time had elapsed for the king to have been briefed on the recommendation authorizing the relocation of the presidio with a more expensive and grander footprint. With an international chess board in play, especially with Great Britain, the decision was one beyond the purview of just the Council and required royal approval.

Supporting the above thesis concerning Alta’s map is also another previously compiled map that shows the same intense scouring of the island’s southern shoreline (Figures 14 and 15).

Figure 14. Map titled Descripcion De La Bahia De Santa Maria De Galve Y Puerto De Sn Miguel de Panzacola, con toda la costa contigua y las demas bahias que tiene en ella, hasta el Rio de Apalache (Description of the Bay of Santa Maria de Galve and the Port of San Miguel de Panzacola, with all the contiguous coast and the other bays located therein, until the Apalache River.) Today’s Pensacola is located on the left-hand side, and the map has the wrong date of 1700, with designated elements actually circa 1740’s to early 1750’s. ¹²⁹

It is believed that the map was a compilation of several early 18^th century maps, maritime surveys, and reports of the 1740 hurricanes all meshed together to represent a wide view of Spanish possessions, but before Alta compiled his 1756 map. Importantly, while the map has the date of 1700 and is attributed to two engineers that were at Pensacola at that time, ¹³⁰ Gulf Coast historian and Spanish translator, R. Wayne Childers, quickly noted after I initially obtained a copy of the map in the year 2002, ¹³¹ that the designation of Panzacola and identification of San Miguel (Figure 15) did not exist until after 1722. Also, many of the other named elements around the bay are ca. 1740’s and this also holds true for designated elements around Cape San Blas at Apalachicola to the east. Further, it is evident that the creator of the map dated 1700 did not have access to Carlos de Siguenza’s 1693 accurate map of Pensacola Bay area.

Thus, it would be reasonable to believe that the map was actually a political map compiled in the mid to late 1740’s as to represent “the extensive occupation” and state of Spanish possessions along the northern Gulf Coast as it looked in the year 1700 without actually revealing too much information or the actual truths; but just enough with “artistic shading” and plenty of the Gulf of Mexico accented with a “pretty” and centrally situated compass rose to perhaps give an alternative focus and credibility to the map, even though the presented “facts” were contrived if not fabrications. Indeed, “exaggerations” on maps were common by most European countries with interests in the New World to justify more favorable and strategic boundaries by indicating long-term ownership with an active presence.

Figure 15. Close-up of Descripcion De La Bahia De Santa Maria De Galve Y Puerto De Sn Miguel de Panzacola showing the location of San Miguel on the mainland, (top, circled by the ellipse), and the south facing or Gulf shores of Santa Rosa Island scoured by the hurricanes of 1751 and 1752 that had cut the island into.

The 1723 compilation and publication of Andrés González de Barcia’s Chronological History of the Continent of Florida (originally, Ensayo Cronologico para la Historia General de la Florida…) had probably been utilized in a similar fashion when preparing for the negotiations at the Peace (or Treaty) of Vienna in 1725. ¹³² The chronology gave a specific accounting of all the years of discovery by Ponce de Leon, subsequent exploration, and dominion by the Spanish in la Florida reaffirming an unwavering presence, even to the point of publicly informing of the secretive Luna Expedition for the first time. ¹³³ That revelation filled the “void of years of abandonment” after the Soto Expedition in the 1540’s that the French had claimed; a claim that had precipitated their settlement intrusions into the east coast of la Florida as led by Jean Ribault and René Goulaine de Laudonnière in the early 1560’s. Interestingly, although the records indicate that Spanish Admiral Pedro Menéndez de Avilés had to have been made aware of the Luna Expedition by Viceroy Velasco, ¹³⁴ he never revealed knowledge of it to justify his brutal actions when killing and expelling the French, and the subsequent founding of St. Augustine in 1565. ¹³⁵ In any case, the revealing of the Luna Expedition to the powers that be at the French court at Versailles in 1724 ¹³⁶ probably helped seal the permanent peace between the Spanish and French Houses of Bourbon as first attempted with the Treaties of Utrecht of 1713-1715, especially as it concerned la Florida.

Likewise, the evidence indicates that Alta had access to ancient and period maps, reports, and maritime surveys—including those related to the 1752 hurricane–and compiled a map of the Pensacola Bay area, but only from the resources available to him in Spain. ¹³⁷ Like the previously mentioned map dated 1700, it is clearly apparent that Alta also did not have access to Siguenza’s very accurate 1693 map of the bay.

With this explanation, dissection of the 1756 map by Alta informs of some unique elements or designations that are not found on any other known maps from 1693-1756; and they are the point of land extending out into the bay labeled the Pnt. de Santa Cruz or Point of the Holy Cross (Figures 16 and 17) and the adjacent area north of the point labeled San Nicolás , with a small structure nearby. Extensive research indicates that this designated area might have been the church location of the Luna settlement, but not your typical church structure. Instead, it was probably a typical open-air church designed to say Mass and administer the Holy Sacraments to 1,000+ souls. Such a design–a minimally covered altar area affronting a vast open field for an assembly of countless on-lookers–had become common in the New World by the Mendicant Orders in order to accommodate the proselytization to the huge indigenous populations; and the adjacent structure, perhaps the associated monastery for the Dominicans. [An in-depth investigation and analysis of this hypothesis will be presented shortly in a separate article—Part II– that is presently undergoing editing.]

Figure 16. Blow-up of the central area of Pensacola Bay referred to on the 1756 map as Bahia de Santa Maria de Galbe, with the Point of the Holy Cross (pnt. de Sta. Cruz) noted by the lower ellipse, and San Nicolás by the larger circle, above.

Figure 17. Close-up of the Point of the Holy Cross (pta. de Sta. Cruz) at center-bottom, with the designated area of San Nicolás (Sn. Nicolas) centered above. The letter “D” above the Ptn. de Sta. Cruz refers to a proposed “Battery guarding the channel and watering place;” and note the two arms of water marked by the letters “F” (to the left of San Nicolás), which the Explición (Figure 18) designates the Arroyos de agua duce buena para lever, or “streams of sweet water good to drink.” It appears that structures represented in red indicate “former” or “existing” buildings of some kind, and those in yellow marked “D” (the Battery) and “B” (the Castle or new fortification) were proposed new structures. The structure with the cross (second building to the right of letter “A”) designating the church at San Miguel.

The upper “F” is believed to represent the large fresh water stream and drainage area that has been filled-in over the centuries and forms the inlet where today’s Joe Patti’s Seafood market is located at the end of South C Street, now mostly covered over by the expansion of platted lots and street construction by the City of Pensacola. On the ca.1699 Arriola map above (Figure 11) the estuary is referred to as the Rio de San Franciso. The lower “F” represents today’s Bayou Chico with its still existing sweet, fresh water springs at its headwaters. With this realization, the Pta. de Sta. Cruz or the Point of the Holy Cross is the shoreline adjacent to the promontory of land where today’s Pensacola Yacht Club is situated; and that the southernmost part of the land has archeologically been determined to be natural and is not fill or dredge material. ¹³⁸

Figure 18. Explicion del Plano de la Baia (Explanations of the Plan of the Bay) with the designated alphabet letters on the 1756 map compiled by Agustin López de la Camara Alta titled (as translated) Plan of the Bay and Port of Santa Maria de Galbe, and of the Presidio called Panzacola… Dated March 12, 1756.

IMPORTANTLY–as mentioned before–this Pta. de Sta. Cruz designation appears to be unique in the cartography of the Pensacola Bay area as well as the area designation of St. Nicolás and the adjacent structure. There are no other known colonial maps of Pensacola Bay (of hundreds that were compiled, whether Spanish, French, English, or even Dutch copies) that have these specific elements, together or individually. However, combined with the passages from Davila Padilla’s 1596 Historia presented above, it appears that the designation of the Point of the Holy Cross and San Nicolás could be strong Hints or indicators as to the location of the nearby settlement site of the Luna Expedition; and that would be the sloping land to the north-west.

Indeed, with its plethora of freshwater springs Bayou Chico has proven itself the choice location on Pensacola Bay for two post-Luna armies to establish encampments: General Bernado de Galvez in 1781 as his encampment of thousands to lay siege to the British Ft. George, and General Andrew Jackson in 1814 while on his way to the Battle of New Orleans. ¹³⁹ It is even probable that Diego Maldonado and his small naval fleet–while awaiting to resupply the Soto entrada in 1539 and 1540–might have utilized the bayou with its freshwater springs. Therefore, after the reconnaissance by Renteria and Gayon of December-January (1558-1559), it reasons that Viceroy Velasco probably had also recognized in 1559 the many benefits of such a location for Luna to establish a settlement. ¹⁴⁰ The fresh water site was also far enough up the bayou to avoid cannon fire from enemy ships, the bayou deep enough for shallow keeled vessels to have refuge, but still within walking distance to the notable wooden cross that had been erected near the shoreline —The Point of the Holy Cross.

Also, to add to the geographic possibilities offered by Alta’s map, Viceroy Velasco gives us a clue as to the actual settlement site in his letter to the king informing of the arrival of the Luna Expedition to Pensacola Bay. The Spanish transcription of the relevant paragraph by Ms. Irene Wright reads as follows:

Como por estar en paraje de buena tierra, y por haber entrado en el dia que Digo, y tomar el nombre de vuestra majesty, se le puso por nombre la bahia filipina del puerto de santa maria, hombres de mar dizen que es El major que hay en yndias, y el sitio que se a tomado, para Asentar El pueblo no es menos, por que es Una punta de tierra alta que cae sobre la bahia, Adonde las naos llegan. ¹⁴¹

Herbert Ingram Priestley gives a translation in The Luna Papers, but I find it in error, adding words to enhance the description by the viceroy that are not present, especially in assuming a permanent anchorage place: “for it is a high point of land which slopes down to the bay where the ships come to anchor (naos llegan).” However, those Spanish words mention nothing of anchorage, and in other paragraphs Viceroy Velasco uses the words “anchor” or “anchorage” when he wants to refer to the area of the anchorage of the Luna fleet.

Therefore, a modified re-translation is as follows:

As for being in a place of good land, and for to have entered on the day that I say, and to take the name of His Majesty, it was placed for the name of the bay of Filipina del Port of Santa Maria; men of the sea say that it is the best that there is in the Indies, and the site that has been taken, for to settle the town is no less, because it is a point of high land that falls [or slopes down] upon the bay, to where the ships arrive. ¹⁴²

In short, the ships could arrive at a particular area to unload their supplies and provisions, but it does not mean it is the same spot where the permanent anchorage was located. Importantly, a maritime captain would never drop anchor on or near a sandbar—temporarily or permanently–where sudden winds and waves might pound a wooden hull on the bay bottom, or the tide could leave a ship grounded and trapped. Indeed, the Spanish had created the deeper offshore, island port of San Juan de Ulúa at Veracruz because the mainland port was too shallow for larger ships to safely approach to unload (Figure 19).

Figure 19. Plan de Port de La Veracruz, Mexico in 1798 with the offshore port of San Juan de Ulúa located on the island to the northeast where a bold line marks the beginnings of the deep waters. ¹⁴³ Ships arriving docked along side of the walled island and fortification and tied up to iron loops set in the walls. The ships then unloaded, and were towed by row boats to tie up to mooring buoys safely anchored in the deeper waters nearby as indicated by the blue ellipses in the top right corner. Smaller vessels would then be utilized to transport cargo to the wharf at the mainland port. After the hurricane of September 1559, Viceroy Velasco told Governor Luna at Pensacola Bay to attempt to recover the “lost anchors” of the ships whose lines had broken free, and reset the anchorage site with mooring buoys as was done at the port at Veracruz. ¹⁴⁴ There is no evidence that Luna actually attempted to recover any anchors as such an undertaking was very low on their priority list. The top priority was salvaging any foodstuff from the shipwrecks and finding alternative food sources amongst the Native populations inland.

Therefore, the description of where the “ships arrive” cannot in any manner be applied to the East Pensacola Heights area and Emanuel Point with its prominent bluffed terrace and large sand bar; but appropriately fits the geography of the eastern side of Bayou Chico where the high land at today’s West Jackson St. gently slopes down for over one mile to the shoreline. The adjacent waters of the bay to the south-southwest were deep enough for ships to arrive, unload their cargos to smaller vessels to be ferried ashore inside the mouth of the bayou, and then set anchors safely farther out in the bay.

Further, the geography of the land easily accommodates the establishment of the initial settlement as formulated and laid out in a grid system as designed by Viceroy Velasco as he informs as follows:

The sketch [or trace] I have ordered made of how they should make the towns the Spanish populate, I send to you in order that your Majesty may order it examined. If it seems that they should have a different arrangement your Majesty will order it sent to me. I have intended that the first town that will be built and populated in the port not to have no more than one hundred and forty lots, and that the forty shall be utilized for the plaza, a monastery, a church, and a royal house where the governor shall dwell and where they are respectful of the weapons, artillery, munitions, and food supplies. This house is to be sufficient for everything and is to be separate and have its defenses and form of a strong house [or keep.] The four gates of the town are to be visible from the plaza, and it is to be large enough to contain all the people. The hundred houses are to be for one hundred families, which seems enough for the defense of the town. ¹⁴⁵

That layout—utilizing the same lot sizes Viceroy Velasco utilized in laying out new towns in New Spain–needed around 16 to 20 acres, which the landscape on Bayou Chico readily affords, and even allows for future expansion beyond the initial town gates; and with the numerous springs on the sloping land, the area offered the opportunity for gravity fresh water and wastewater systems. Other sites along the bay required permanent water wells and latrines. Indeed, the tested and proven depth of the water table from atop the Emanuel Point site is around 40 feet, ¹⁴⁶ which would have required numerous deep wells with no guarantee of fresh water. ¹⁴⁷ There was a small spring that would at times flow at the Emanuel Point site (8ES1), but it was seasonal; ¹⁴⁸ and even at its best flow, did not have in any manner the water necessary for a large expedition with 1500+ soldiers and colonists, and hundreds of horses, cattle, and other livestock. Importantly, in all the period correspondence and post-expedition testimonies by soldiers, there is never the mention of wells in any manner nor the expedition needing them in any fashion, whether for the people, horses, or other livestock. The expedition never complained of lacking fresh water at any time for over two years, but only the continuous lack of food.

Further–for the record and future research endeavors–the archival designation of the letter by Viceroy Velasco as found in the 1920’s indicates that there was an attached folded page, which could have been the sketch of the proposed settlement; and it is possible the sketch might have been superimposed on the geographical landscape at Ochuse. The archival reference reads as translated by Priestley.

Source: General Archives of the Indies, Seville, Spain—Audiencia of Mexico. Viceroyalty. Royal decrees sent to the Viceroy and other Authorities. Years 1546 to 1818. Case 87; Shelf 7; Bundle 6. Copy, 1 folded sheet…(1 pliego.) ¹⁴⁹

The word “pliego” at the very end indicates an attachment of a folded sheet probably to match the size of the four sheets the letter is written upon. Since the archivist and transcriber, Ms. Irene Wright, did not provide the “folded sheet” to Herbert Ingram Priestley for inclusion in The Luna Papers, it is evident that the sheet had been previously excised or separated from the letter to be put in another file, probably consisting of maps, drawings, etc. For whatever reason, this practice of separation appears to have become common as modern archives developed in the latter part of the 19^th century and 20^th century.

In the early 2000’s, I began the process of trying to reconnect Spanish maps of Pensacola with their associated period documents as referred to in the translations accomplished by R. Wayne Childers concerning later settlement sites in the 17^th and 18^th centuries, and achieved much success. Consequently, there is the possibility that the “lost” 16^th century sketch provided to the king by Viceroy Velasco might still exist somewhere, perhaps “hidden” or unidentified in another archival map file; ¹⁵⁰ and if found, the sketch might also be drawn upon the geographical area Viceroy Velasco had chosen to construct the settlement, including the point of land where Governor Luna was to place The Holy Cross.

Summary

While there are no known 16^th century maps or detailed descriptions that designate the Luna Expedition settlement site on Pensacola Bay, the 1756 proposed Plan of the Bay and Port of Santa Maria de Galbe by Agustin Lopez de la Camara Alta has two cartographic designations that appear to have association with the Luna Expedition: The Point of the Holy Cross and San Nicolás. We presently have no idea how and where an 18^th century engineer came across what appears to be data from the 16^th century that is not found elsewhere; but he apparently did, because the “unusual shorelines and designations” Alta depicts seem to indicate he employed several ancient and crude maps instead of the accurate one Siguenza compiled in 1693, which would have been readily available in Mexico City when Alta arrived in late 1755. So, while the aforementioned elements have previously appeared to be a mystery, in reality they are perhaps HINTS of a possible Luna settlement site along the banks of today’s Bayou Chico.

There are many avenues and lots of opportunity to find collaborative documentation in archives, and that will take more diligence, time and expense; but even if such documentation is discovered, ultimately, it appears that true evidence of a settlement site is only going to be confirmed with hard evidence derived from archeological evidence of period fire hearths, refuse pits, remanences of structures, and burials. Only then will a site of the Luna Expedition settlement become irrefutable.

Appendix

The 1959 Cross and the Spanish Village

Today, when one ventures to Pensacola Beach on Santa Rosa Island, there is a large monument atop a high sand dune, appropriately called The Cross. It was initially erected on the island in 1959 by the Knights of Columbus ¹⁵¹ as the lead-up to the annual Fiesta of Five Flags and the Quadricentennial Celebration of the Don Tristán de Luna Expedition to Pensacola Bay 400 years earlier. The monument was originally located on the north side of Fort Pickens Road as part of the Spanish Village that was hastily erected for the celebration to serve as a tourist attraction for Pensacola Beach (Figure 20).

Figure 20. Arial view of the replicated Spanish Village erected in 1959 on Pensacola Beach to serve as a tourist attraction for the annual Fiesta of Five Flags and the Quadricentennial Celebration. ¹⁵²

The Fiesta of Five Flags had been implemented after World War II in 1949 to draw tourists to the white sand beaches through the yearly celebration of Pensacola’s multi-flagged history. It was originally a decade-long plan, which would culminate in 1959 with the Quadricentennial Celebration (400 years) designed to focus on the early Spanish presences in Pensacola. However, after years of procrastination, ¹⁵³ nothing concrete had been implemented to engage the tourists besides parades and re-enactments of “Luna coming ashore” on Pensacola Beach. Therefore, around 1958 it was hurriedly decided that a replica village of Spanish Pensacola would be constructed as it was situated on Pensacola Beach two centuries later. ¹⁵⁴ The replica Spanish Village would provide visitors another attraction besides the white sandy beaches, and your typical “amusement park activities” that seemed to mark popular beaches in Florida. A worker–involved in harvesting maritime products up Pensacola Bay–and blooming artist, Dominic Serres, had fortuitously made a drawing of the town as he visited it in 1743, which in 2002 was proven to have been most accurate (Figure 21). A close-up of a cross and its location within the settlement can be seen in Figure 22.

Figure 21. Drawing of Spanish Pensacola as it appeared in 1743 when situated on Santa Rosa Island (Pensacola Beach) as depicted in a drawing by Dominic Serres. Serres eventually became one of the leading maritime painters in England and was known for his detailed accuracy in depicting ships. The drawing was first printed in the January 1764 issue of Universal Magazine (London) after the Spanish had ceded Florida to Great Britain in 1763 as part of the Treaty of Paris. In 2002, I did the research, dissected the drawing, and delivered a paper with a power-point presentation that proved the accuracy of the depiction. Importantly, the British or English designations are in error because they reflected British norms in a military town and not the realities of a Spanish presidio. The large building designated as the Governor’s House (building with cupolas and cross) is actually the Spanish church; the designated Church (octagonal building with cupola and cross) is probably the Spanish hospital; and the Commandants House (within the stockade with a flag, on the far left) is where the Spanish governor and commandant resided along with the barracks of the soldiers of the presidio. (I have three copies of the drawing: one printed by the Universal Magazine; one subsequently copied by a Dutch printer with some elements reversed; and a third printed in color).

Figure 22. Close-up view of a cross located within the island town. Note its grand height, which probably could be seen by sailing vessels from both the Gulf and Bay waters since two hurricanes in September of 1740 had swept the island almost void of large sand dunes. The report after the 1752 hurricane indicated that the Spanish cemetery for the presidio had been under the church floor and that the rising flood waters of the hurricane caused buried coffins to eerily rise up through the floor and break open with skeletons and skulls lying about the sand. ¹⁵⁵

After the reconstructed wooden village of 1959 had begun to quickly deteriorate and be abandoned within a few years of the celebration, another memorial cross was eventually erected atop a prominent sand dune overlooking the Gulf waters (Figures 23 and 24).

Figure 23. The Cross on Pensacola Beach (Santa Rosa Island) today atop a large, protected sand dune facing the Gulf of America. ¹⁵⁶

Figure 24. Photos of The Cross and the Inscription upon the base, ¹⁵⁷ which reads:

This marker commemorates
the first religious service
in the Pensacola area,
a mass celebrated on
August 15, 1559,
The Feast of the Assumption,
by the Dominican Friars who
accompanied Tristan de Luna.

Erected by the Knights of Columbus

Pensacola Council 778

Also, while the inscription informs that it was erected to commemorate the first religious service and Catholic Mass in the Pensacola area celebrated on August 15, 1559, in reality, it only commemorates the first Mass of the Luna Expedition along the shores of the bay. Many prior services would have been celebrated by previous expeditions to the bay, especially the ones led by Captain Franciso Maldonado in 1539-1540 as he and his fleet waited to resupply the Hernando de Soto Entrada; for the very Catholic Spanish crowns dictated that practically all expeditions in the New World be accompanied with priests to ensure that Holy Sundays were observed, and that the Holy Sacraments were appropriately administered, especially the one of Last Rights to those that died.

Ironically, there is presently no written account that a Mass was actually celebrated when the Luna Expedition arrived to Pensacola Bay, but such religious practices were understood tenants of their Catholic faith and the requirements for celebrating Holy Sundays and important Feast Days would have demanded it; and as such, the Luna Expedition was replete with religious practices and customs that are never mentioned in period documents. This also applies to the Spanish army that led the Luna Expedition, which also employed “standard military procedures” that are never mentioned. Both the priests and military captains knew what was expected of them, and “understood” actions and procedures were to be carried out as automatic orders. However, when the situation required specific actions or deviation—anything from the norm–we tend to find period documentation concerning such commands.

In any case, because of the location of The Cross today, memories of the 1959 Spanish Village, and continuous re-enactment pageantry–which have included “Luna and his entourage” coming ashore in a pinnace or rowboat from the Gulf surf onto the white sands of Pensacola Beach–has helped cement the story that the settlement had actually been located on Pensacola Beach. Even today, in the year 2026, this misconception still gets repeated in blogs, articles on the Internet, and even in advertisements directed toward tourists. Such unfortunate misconceptions have obviously been hard to overcome, but Contact Archeology, Inc. (CAI) will continue to present historical articles backed by research (and the archeology) in order to bring truth to the forefront and hopefully dispel all the many myths of where the Luna Settlement was actually located.

Notes