Louis St. Denis and Manuela Sánchez at Natchitoches (DRAWING BY JACK JACKSON)
CAVALIER AND HIS BRIDE
In the late 1600s, the unfavorable reports on Texas of Domingo Terán de los Ríos and Gregorio de Salinas Varona, combined with the dismal failure of the first two missions in East Texas, dampened the spirits of almost everyone. This included nearly a dozen Franciscans who at one time or another had served in Texas.
These missionaries belonged to a religious order that demanded sacrifices from its members that seem unbelievable in today’s world. Franciscans had to beg for every scrap of food and could not own any personal property. They were required to dress in a coarse-cloth habit (outer one-piece garment), tied at the waist with a cord. They were supposed to walk, not ride animals, and at best wear sandals for foot gear. In fact, many members of the order chose to walk barefooted, despite rough ground and the cold of winter. So it was hard to discourage a Franciscan who did not even know the meaning of luxury.
With this in mind, it seems unusual for so many Franciscans to have given up on Texas. One notable exception turned out to be Francisco Hidalgo, the Man with a Mission. Even though his religious order sent him far away from Texas to its college at Querétaro, Father Hidalgo never lost sight of his life’s work. This was nothing less than to save the souls of Texas Indians for his Christian God.
As he had done when he first arrived in Mexico, Hidalgo again took up the job of preaching against sin in the rough mining camps and towns near Querétaro. Once again he showed great skills as a religious teacher. The good Franciscan could move audiences to tears with his sermons, and he showed the same patience and understanding that marked his work among the Tejas Indians of East Texas.
After several years of preaching, things changed for Father Hidalgo. In 1697 Father Antonio Margil, whom we will meet in the next chapter, returned to Querétaro from Central America. Margil became head of the college of Santa Cruz, and he soon looked to the northern frontier province of Coahuila for renewed work among its Indians.
Other than the early efforts of Fathers Hidalgo and Massanet, there had been little progress in winning the souls of Indians in Coahuila. Margil was determined to change that, and Hidalgo leaped at the opportunity to go northward toward Texas.
One year after Margil returned to Querétaro, he sent Francisco Hidalgo and a priest named Diego de Salazar to Coahuila with orders to set up a mission there. For Hidalgo it was the first step in a long and difficult journey back to his calling among the Tejas.
Hidalgo and Salazar set up their first mission, called Santa María de los Dolores. This outpost attracted a few neophytes (mission Indians), and the eager Franciscans then founded another mission to the north of it on the Río Sabinas. The second establishment was named San Juan Bautista, and it brought Father Hidalgo even closer to Texas.
Letters from the two Franciscans to Father Margil soon carried enthusiastic reports on their successes among the local Indians. Much encouraged, Margil then sent two additional priests to Coahuila. The more famous of the two was Father Antonio de Olivares, the future founder of Mission San Antonio de Valero, later known as the Alamo.
Things were going reasonably well at Mission San Juan Bautista when a tragic event happened. A Christianized Indian who served as an interpreter was killed by Indians who lived outside the mission. The padres were fearful that the man’s relatives, who were residents at the mission, would blame them for this death.
Because of their concern that some of the neophytes would seek bloody revenge and because it was difficult to draw irrigation water from the Sabinas River, the Franciscans decided to relocate the mission. They kept the name San Juan Bautista but moved the outpost to just south of the Río Grande. This greatly pleased Father Hidalgo, for Texas was now near at hand.
Aiding in the construction of the second and more famous Mission San Juan Bautista was Captain Diego Ramón, one of the great names in early Texas history. Ramón and Father Hidalgo laid the foundation of this mission on January 1, 1700. Soon built close by was a presidio with the same name—San Juan Bautista. The combined mission and presidio would become known as the Gateway to Texas.
In short order, two more missions were built in the same vicinity. This location had roots in the nearby Río Grande crossing used by Alonso de León, Domingo Terán, and Salinas Varona. Spaniards named favorable river crossings pasos (passes). Today a major Texas city gets its name by having served for many years as El Paso del Río Grande.
Oddly enough, the pass near San Juan Bautista was known as Paso de Francia (French Pass). Its name came from the numerous Río Grande crossings made in search of Frenchmen who had come to Texas with La Salle.
Although Father Hidalgo had finally reached the very threshold of Texas, there was still not a single Spaniard living north of the Great River. This would remain the case for the next sixteen years. The three existing missions did serve the native population along the Río Grande. They also ministered to hunting and gathering tribes that ranged north of the river.
Nine long years passed before a single Spanish expedition ventured into the interior of Texas. However, in the spring of 1709, Captain Pedro de Aguirre led a march to the site of present-day San Antonio. There he noted the same favorable surroundings for a mission, remarked on by Domingo Terán in 1691. And like Terán, Aguirre called the site San Antonio de Padua.
This entrada (entrance) was made in part to check out rumors that the Tejas were willing to accept the return of Spaniards to East Texas. Instead, it was learned that the old chieftain Bernardino was still angry at the Spanish and would not accept their religion.
Two priests accompanied the Aguirre expedition, and they were much disappointed by this news. One of them, Father Olivares, left the Río Grande and made the long and dangerous trip to Spain. There he made special pleas for new and better financed missions in Texas. The second priest, Father Félix de Espinosa, likewise left the Río Grande and returned to the Franciscan’s college at Querétaro.
This left only Francisco Hidalgo at San Juan Bautista. He was so stubborn and determined to return to work among the Tejas that he had to find a way to do it. Father Hidalgo’s plan would eventually bring Louis St. Denis, known as the French Cavalier, to San Juan Bautista. That proved to be the key, the trigger, that would send Spaniards back into Texas. This was a dangerous tactic on the part of Hidalgo, but it led to Spain’s permanent occupation of the future Lone Star State, a presence that would last for the next 105 years.
As mentioned, Texas was abandoned by the Spanish in 1693. They did not return until 1716—and only then because of the combined scheming of Father Hidalgo and St. Denis.
To understand how this came about, we must shift our attention to Louisiana. After the death of the Frenchman La Salle, his close and faithful friend Henri Tonti traveled from Canada to France. That European country was then ruled by the great Sun King, Louis XIV.
Tonti urged his king to pick up the pieces of La Salle’s shattered dream and establish a French colony on the Gulf Coast. Instead of planting the colony in Texas, where one had failed in the 1680s, France should set up towns and military garrisons near the mouth of the Mississippi River.
La Salle’s old friend also explained the advantages of controlling the Mississippi River and its mouth to Louis XIV’s advisers. The French colony in New France (Canada) would have an outlet to the sea by way of the river. French outposts on the lower end of the Father of Waters, as the Mississippi was occasionally known, would keep this vital region out of the hands of Spanish and English enemies. It would also bring France close to the rich silver mines of northern Mexico.
The king and his ministers liked Tonti’s proposal. For their colonizer, they chose Sieur d’Iberville, a French explorer born in Canada. Iberville enlisted four of his brothers for the venture, the most famous of them being Sieur Bienville. (For his part in the founding of New Orleans later on, in 1718, this brother would be called the Father of Louisiana.)
On this occasion, the French were successful in finding the mouth of the Mississippi. In April 1699, Iberville set up a temporary fort near present-day Ocean Springs, Mississippi, before sailing back to France. There he picked up fresh supplies and more colonists. One of the recruits was a Canadian-born relative named Louis St. Denis.
St. Denis, the eleventh of twelve children, was born near Quebec on September 17, 1674. His parents had enjoyed some success in Canada and were able to send their son to France for schooling. At age twenty-five the young adventurer signed on with Iberville at the port of La Rochelle.
St. Denis headed a company of Canadians, and attached to his command were two familiar names, Pierre and Jean-Baptiste Talon. These brothers, as perhaps you remember, were survivors of La Salle’s colony near Matagorda Bay. They had been rescued and ransomed by Alonso de León and Francisco Martínez, and both bore tattoos in the manner of Texas Indians.
It seems likely that St. Denis was able to become a leader at such an early age because of his family ties to Iberville and his brothers. In any event, by 1700 Louis St. Denis in the company of Bienville, twenty-two Canadians, and seven Indian guides moved across northern Louisiana toward Texas.
St. Denis and Bienville were ordered to renew French contacts with Texas Indians and check on the Spanish. Their expedition, however, had to face incredible hardships. It rained almost constantly, creating swamps with waist-deep water. The men had to build rafts to protect their supplies, which they pushed or pulled through cold water. As Bienville remarked, “Never in all our lives have my men or I been so tired. This is fine business for cooling the fires of youth.”
At last the exhausted men contacted Kadohadacho Indians to the east of their villages. From these natives they learned that mounted Spaniards had reached the Red River. But relying on sign language and figures drawn in the dirt can lead to serious misunderstandings. What the French explorers failed to comprehend was that the natives were reporting on Spaniards who had been to the Red River nine years earlier. This was the ill-fated Domingo Terán expedition of 1691.
The Kadohadachos also reported that Spaniards lived in missions and worked among Indians in present-day East Texas. Again the natives did not mention, or perhaps the French misunderstood, that no Spaniards had been in Texas since 1693, seven years earlier.
So when St. Denis and Bienville returned to Louisiana, they had the mistaken impression that Spaniards were then in Texas. In history, as in life, what people believe can sometimes be as important as the facts themselves.
Shortly after his return from the Red River expedition, St. Denis was sent on a second march toward the same location. He was to gather information on how many Spaniards lived to the west of Louisiana and how far it was to the Spanish mines in Mexico. This effort by St. Denis failed because of serious illnesses among his men, which forced a return to Louisiana. And later, another march ended with the same results. By then, eleven years had passed, and the French in Louisiana still believed there were Spaniards in Texas. Thanks to Francisco Hidalgo, that was about to change.
For Hidalgo, the years were slipping by and he was still no closer to achieving his goal of returning to East Texas. He knew of French settlements along the Mississippi River, and he was determined to put that knowledge to good use. In January 1711, Hidalgo wrote a famous letter to the governor of Louisiana.
Father Hidalgo asked if there were French missionaries working among Indians along the Mississippi River. If that was the case, would the governor consider sending a few Catholic priests westward to Christianize the Tejas? This amounted to inviting a foreign nation onto lands claimed by the king of Spain. Some have regarded this letter as an act of treason. But one could also argue that Hidalgo had a higher commitment to saving the souls of Texas Indians than to serving the interests of Spain.
The Hidalgo letter of 1711 took almost two years to reach the governor of Louisiana. It passed from one Indian group to another, until it was finally delivered to a French mission on the Mississippi. Catholic priests then passed the letter on to the governor of Louisiana, who received it in early May 1713.
From the letter, it was clear that there were no Spaniards in Texas, otherwise Hidalgo would not have had to ask the French for help in setting up a mission. For the first time, the governor realized that he and others in Louisiana had been operating for many years on bad information. Again, this stemmed from what was poorly reported by Indians or badly misunderstood by the expedition of 1700.
The governor of Louisiana soon called on St. Denis, who on at least three occasions had approached Texas. At that time, Louis St. Denis was thirty-nine years of age and unmarried. He was eager to try Texas one more time and perhaps make his fortune as a trader.
St. Denis quickly organized a company of Canadians, and, led by Indians scouts, the group moved westward toward Tejas communities between the Neches and Angelina Rivers in East Texas. Two members of the group must have had serious doubts about going back among Texas Indians. They were the Talon brothers, Pierre and Robert, returning to a land that had claimed the lives of their parents and a sister.
The Talons were vital to the success of the French expedition. They knew the land and could serve as interpreters. Traveling by canoe, the party paddled up the Mississippi and Red Rivers to the villages of Natchitoches Indians. St. Denis left some trade goods at Natchitoches, perhaps little realizing that much of his later life would be spent there. He and his party then set out on foot for the land of the Tejas.
On reaching his destination, St. Denis established good relations with the Tejas Indians. The tattooed faces of the Talons were reminders of their years among the Tejas and Karankawas, and their appearance won them easy acceptance by the natives. When Louis St. Denis asked the whereabouts of Father Francisco Hidalgo, he was told that the Tejas had not seen him for more than twenty years.
The Tejas did offer to take the Frenchmen to where they could find the Franciscan priest. So a party of eight set out for the Río Grande and San Juan Bautista. This group included St. Denis, the two Talon brothers, another Frenchman, and four Tejas Indian guides. On July 19, 1714, the men crossed the Great River and traveled a short distance beyond it to the presidio.
In charge of the garrison was the distinguished commander Diego Ramón. Don Diego had been present at the founding of the mission on January 1, 1700, and in the meantime he had assembled much of his extended family at the Gateway to Texas.
On the day after finding Spaniards at San Juan Bautista, St. Denis penned a letter to Father Hidalgo, who had just recently been recalled to his college at Querétaro. The Frenchman admitted that he was in a bad way. In his words, “We have been living on the road by what we could hunt. And up to the present we are [without] supplies and other things necessary for life.”
A few days later, Diego Ramón likewise wrote Hidalgo at his college. Note his words: “There are in this presidio four Frenchmen, a captain named Luis de Sn. Dionisio, and another Pedro Talon, and the other Roberto, who were among those rescued by General Alonso de León.” According to don Diego, all four Frenchmen were unable to speak Spanish.
Father Hidalgo’s heart must have skipped a beat as he read the next lines from Captain Ramón. “I say that if His Majesty [the king] does not take warning and the Natchitoches villages are not settled, the French will be masters of all this land.” It seems that by writing his letter to the governor of Louisiana, things could not have worked out better for the Man with a Mission.
Hidalgo probably counted on the threat of Frenchmen coming into Texas and influencing Indians there to stir his king and viceroy into action. This had been the case earlier, when Alonso de León had looked for La Salle’s fort until he found it. A similar concern had prompted the founding of Mission San Francisco de los Tejas in 1690. Later, when the Spanish learned that La Salle was dead and the French threat had ended, they decided to give up on the expense of building presidios and missions in East Texas.
Now the ball was set in motion by the appearance of the French Cavalier at San Juan Bautista in July 1714, and the Spanish would never again lose interest in Texas. For the moment, however, Captain Diego Ramón did not know what to do with St. Denis.
Ramón informed Louis St. Denis that he could not leave the presidio. Instead, he was put under pleasant house arrest in the home of Ramón. The Frenchman had to remain there until word arrived from the viceroy in Mexico City, telling Captain Ramón what to do about the foreigners.
It took several weeks for a letter to travel from San Juan Bautista to the capital. Then the viceroy had to meet with his advisers and get their input. Once a decision was made, a letter had to travel from Mexico City to the Río Grande presidio. Weeks went by.
Meanwhile, Captain Ramon’s beautiful seventeen-year-old granddaughter, Manuela Sánchez Navarro, caught the roving eye of the dashing French Cavalier. And since Manuela Sánchez did not object, romance was soon in the air. However, Louis St. Denis had plans that involved both love and money.
As time passed at San Juan Bautista, the Spanish relaxed their guard over the Talon brothers. One night they escaped across the Río Grande and headed for Louisiana. With them went a secret letter from St. Denis to Sieur de Cadillac, his governor at Mobile.
Fearing that the Talons might be captured and the contents of his letter revealed, St. Denis carefully stated that he was unable to “write you fully of all that has happened here.” He informed the French governor that he himself could not return to Louisiana, because “the captain [Ramón] dares not allow me to depart without order from the viceroy.” In truth, St. Denis had no intention of leaving. There were the obvious charms of señorita Sánchez, and he had begun to think of himself as a successful trader between French Louisiana and Spanish Texas.
When the Talons reached Mobile, they gave a full report of their Texas experiences to Governor Cadillac. They informed him that Spanish mines at Boca de Leones were only about 150 miles from the Río Grande. The Talons also reported that St. Denis planned to marry Commandant Ramón’s granddaughter, and in doing so would make himself a part of the most powerful Spanish family in northern Mexico.
All of this aroused the suspicions of Governor Cadillac, who expressed the view that his “agent was not tending strictly to business.” He further stated in a report to France that since “he must marry a Spanish girl, one may believe his journey [in Mexico] will be very long.” In conclusion, Cadillac described St. Denis as having “some good qualities but some bad ones also—he loves his comforts, and is not sufficiently [devoted to] the king’s service.”
Back at San Juan Bautista, word finally arrived from the viceroy in Mexico City. St. Denis must be sent to the capital. There he would be questioned by the viceroy and his advisers. Domingo Ramón, one of Commandant Ramón’s sons, would escort the French Cavalier to Mexico City. Before leaving, Louis St. Denis won a promise of marriage from the teenage beauty Manuela Sánchez.
Once in the capital, St. Denis was very well treated, for the Spanish had much to learn from him. The Frenchman described every mile of his journey from Mobile to San Juan Bautista. He commented on the Tejas Indians and told the viceroy that the Indians in East Texas would welcome back the Franciscan missionaries.
It seems likely that St. Denis wanted to draw the Spanish closer to Louisiana by urging the reoccupation of Texas. In this manner, he could possibly carry on profitable trade between the French and Spanish empires in America. St. Denis had many friends and relatives in Louisiana, while he himself would become a Spanish citizen by marrying into the Ramón family.
In planning a career as a merchant between French Louisiana and Spanish Texas, St. Denis made a serious mistake. Spain followed a policy (mercantilism) that did not permit its colonies to trade with anyone but Spain itself. This was especially important if European powers, such as Spain and France, were at war, as was often the case.
The Spanish viceroy and his advisers were quick to figure out St. Denis’s goals. They sent orders to the northern frontier that all trade with the French in Louisiana was strictly forbidden. To avoid French influence over the Indians of East Texas, Father Hidalgo and other members of the Franciscan order must set up new missions in East Texas.
Still, St. Denis was a clever man and made a very good impression on the viceroy and other officials in Mexico City. They liked the French Cavalier and were impressed that he intended to take a Spanish bride. So in a major expedition intended to reoccupy East Texas, St. Denis would be permitted to act as supply officer. The military commander of the expedition would be Domingo Ramón.
Meanwhile, Governor Cadillac had his own reasons for distrusting St. Denis. He worried about his “bad qualities.” Those weaknesses might make the French Cavalier loyal to Spain, not to his governor in Louisiana or the king in France.
But for St. Denis, these were exciting times. As soon as he was made supply officer for the planned expedition into Texas, he left Mexico City and hurried back to San Juan Bautista. In late 1715 or early 1716, a great social event took place at the Gateway to Texas. Louis St. Denis married Manuela Sánchez Navarro.
At the time of her marriage, Manuela was eighteen. Her husband was more than twice that age. But marriage opportunities for a young woman at San Juan Bautista were limited. For one thing, the Ramóns were a powerful family, and not just anyone would do as a husband for the commandant’s lovely granddaughter.
Manuela Sánchez was perhaps the most famous woman in the early history of Texas, yet until recently she has been mistakenly called a niece or a even daughter of Commandant Diego Ramón. History is a constantly changing subject as scholars find new information in archives and libraries, and we now know much more about this Spanish woman. However, if you do not find genealogy (family history) interesting, just skip the next paragraph.
Born at Monclova, Coahuila, in 1697, Manuela Sánchez was not a blood relative of the Ramón family. Her father was Diego Sánchez Navarro, and her mother was Mariana Gomes Mascorro. Manuela’s grandmother, the mother of Diego Sánchez Navarro, was a widow with small children when she married Commandant Ramón. The future commander at Presidio San Juan Bautista then became a stepfather and guardian of his wife’s children, including her son Diego. After the son married and his wife gave birth to Manuela, their daughter became the stepgranddaughter of Commandant Diego Ramón.
By the spring of 1716, Domingo Ramón had assembled a large expedition at San Juan Bautista, which was to occupy Texas for Spain. It included Father Hidalgo and eight other priests, three religious assistants, twenty-six soldiers, several dozen settlers, and livestock numbering in the thousands. The very size of this undertaking clearly shows that Spain intended more than just setting up mission outposts. The expedition of Domingo Ramón and Louis St. Denis would establish a permanent Spanish presence in Texas. As further evidence of Spain’s intent, seven of the soldiers were married and brought along their wives. These are the first Spanish women on record in Texas.
The departure from San Juan Bautista of this large company of men and women in April interrupted the honeymoon of St. Denis and his bride. As he crossed the Río Grande, the French Cavalier left behind a young bride who had just turned nineteen. She was also pregnant.
With the assistance of Domingo Ramón and Louis St. Denis, Mission San Francisco was again set up in East Texas. Its location was near the original mission founded in 1690 by Damián Massanet and Alonso de León. Considering Father Francisco Hidalgo’s role in bringing about this expedition, it was certainly appropriate that he was named missionary at this site.
By early 1717, there were six new missions and one presidio in East Texas. These outposts were set up in the very locale where two had failed in the 1690s. They were also far removed (more than four hundred miles) from the nearest Spanish community, San Juan Bautista on the Río Grande.
While the Spanish were spending their first winter in East Texas, St. Denis visited French settlements at Natchitoches and then traveled on to Mobile. He was still on reasonably good terms with Governor Cadillac, who badly needed trade with Spanish Texas and Mexico. Louis St. Denis’s marriage into the Ramón family might be the key to business ventures that would increase the wealth of Louisiana.
Louis passed through East Texas on his way back to San Juan Bautista, where Manuela waited with their infant daughter. Traveling with him were dozens of mules loaded with goods that were his, as well as other things belonging to Governor Cadillac.
At the Gateway to Texas, Louis’s happy reunion with his wife and their daughter was soon spoiled by his arrest. Commandant Ramón, his stepgrandfather by marriage, had been warned by the viceroy to be very suspicious of the French Cavalier. To Spanish officials it seemed certain that Louis St. Denis was about to violate trade restrictions with French Louisiana.
For his part, Louis reacted angrily. By his marriage to Manuela, he was now a Spaniard known as don Luis, not a suspicious French agent. Unfortunately, his protests were of no use. Under orders of the viceroy, St. Denis and all forbidden merchandise from Louisiana must be brought to Mexico City.
Two years had passed since St. Denis’s first visit to the capital. That occasion had worked out well for him—so well that the viceroy had appointed him as an important official in the Spanish expedition to reoccupy Texas. Things had changed, however, both in Europe and in Mexico.
France and Spain were no longer allies in Europe, and a new viceroy headed the government in Mexico City. None of this was good news for St. Denis. For a time, he was thrown in jail, and the trade goods from Louisiana were taken from his control. However, a kindly official in the capital felt sorry for the French Cavalier. He was able to get St. Denis released and return some of his merchandise.
But the Frenchman was ordered not to leave the capital, and he could never return to Texas or to his wife. For more than a year, St. Denis scraped by on little food and less money. Fearing that he might again be thrown in jail for his angry remarks about Spanish officials, Louis fled Mexico City on the night of September 5, 1718.
Somehow, Louis made his way to Natchitoches without being arrested, but he dared not pass through San Juan Bautista. Once he was on French soil in Louisiana, Louis begged Spanish officials to let his wife, Manuela, join him. And they agreed to this reasonable request. In the early 1720s, the French Cavalier became military commander at Natchitoches, where he lived with his Spanish wife and a growing family for more than twenty years. Until his death in 1744, Louis was never far from the minds of Spanish officials. They did not trust him and feared his influence over Texas Indians.
By a strange turn of events, a man born in Canada and educated in France wound up bringing Spaniards into Texas to stay in 1716. His appearance at San Juan Bautista, thanks to the letter of Father Francisco Hidalgo, caused genuine concern on the part of Spanish officials in Mexico City. In their view, East Texas had to be occupied and defended against French designs from Louisiana.
Louis St. Denis always insisted that by marrying Manuela Sánchez he intended to become a Spanish citizen. But he failed to convince everyone of his sincerity. It would seem that the Spanish viceroy and his advisers were correct in their evaluation of the French Cavalier. One historian who has carefully studied the life of Louis St. Denis believes that he seemed “to have had difficulty in balancing his greed with his devotion to family.” If offered “a finger, he would have taken an arm.” Simply stated, he could not “turn his back on the opportunities he saw in contraband [illegal] trade.”
In the following chapters, where you can read more about the life of Louis St. Denis, you can decide what you think of him. He and his wife were a constant worry to Spanish officials. They feared Louis’s motives, and they worried about his influence over Texas Indians. Living at Natchitoches in Louisiana, the French Cavalier and his bride were only twenty miles from Spanish outposts in East Texas.
Materials used in preparing this chapter are described below. You can find more information about these sources in the Bibliography at the end of the book.
Robert S. Weddle’s The French Thorn: Rival Explorers in the Spanish Sea, 1682–1762 is the best single source on Louis St. Denis. Donald E. Chipman and Harriett Denise Joseph’s Notable Men and Women of Spanish Texas has biographical sketches of both Louis St. Denis and Manuela Sánchez.
Patricia R. Lemée’s recent articles are fresh looks at the cavalier and his bride. See Patricia R. Lemée, “Manuela Sánchez Navarro,” Natchitoches Genealogist 20 (October 1995): 17–21, and Patricia R. Lemée, “Tios and Tantes: Familial and Political Relationships of Natchitoches and the Spanish Colonial Frontier,” Southwestern Historical Quarterly 101 (January 1998): 341–358.
Quotes in this chapter are from the following sources: Robert S. Weddle’s The French Thorn: Rival Explorers in the Spanish Sea, 1682–1762; Letter from St. Denis to Francisco Hidalgo, July 20, 1714, Catholic Archives of Texas, Austin; and Letter from Diego Ramón to Francisco Hidalgo, July 22, 1714, Catholic Archives of Texas, Austin. Commandant Ramón used Spanish spellings for the first names of the three Frenchmen.