Safety Harbor History: Pedro Menéndez and the Calusa-Tocobaga Peace Treaty

As Laura Kepner and I have continued to conduct research for our history project, we’ve been learning all sorts of interesting facts and stories about Safety Harbor’s past. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been focusing primarily on the events that took place in our area a long time ago, before the first pioneers arrived. Today, I’d like to highlight an interesting story from that period. I’ll guess that few of you have heard this before, even though it involves one of the most well-known Spanish explorers from the 16^th century (and no, it wasn’t Hernando De Soto).

The explorer’s name was Pedro Menéndez de Avilés. If Menéndez sounds familiar, it’s because he is the fellow who established the settlement at St. Augustine, recognized as the first permanent European settlement in the United States. He also later became the first governor of Spanish Florida.

In 1566, shortly after the founding of St. Augustine, Menéndez sailed to Florida’s west coast to visit the Calusa, a powerful indigenous people who lived south of Tampa Bay, roughly from Charlotte Harbor all the way down to the southernmost part of the Florida peninsula. The primary goal of Menéndez’s voyage was to attempt to discover a water passage linking the east and west coasts of the peninsula. At the same time, he would try to convert some of the Calusa to Catholicism, which was a secondary goal for many of the Spanish explorers during this period.

The chief of the Calusa was a man named Calus, or possible Calos or Caalus, which meant “fierce” or “brave” in their language. The Spanish corrupted this name into something more understandable to them, and simply called him Carlos. Once Menéndez arrived, Carlos schemed to use the Spanish might for his own political advantage. After some time (during which Menéndez was pressured into marrying Carlos’s sister, in one of the more bizarre events to take place during this era of Spanish exploration of Florida), Carlos lied and told Menéndez that he knew of such a water passage—but it was located squarely in the territory of the Tocobaga, a tribe that lived north of Calusa territory, and who happened to be the sworn enemies of the Calusa. All Menéndez had to do to gain access to this waterway was to help Carlos destroy the Tocobaga.

So who, exactly, were the Tocobaga? They were a peaceful indigenous people who lived in villages scattered throughout the Tampa Bay area. One of these villages, of course, was located in Philippe Park. Not just a village, either—it is the largest known remains of the Tocobaga culture, and was quite likely their chief settlement.

Menéndez, however, refused to cooperate with Carlos’s ambition. Instead, he told the Calusa that he would negotiate a peace treaty between the two tribes. Although frustrated, Carlos agreed to comply and asked to accompany Menéndez to the Tocobaga with some of his men to make peace.

This approach of seeking a peace treaty may seem to conflict with the commonly-held views of Menéndez, who suffers from a poor reputation regarding his treatment of the indigenous people throughout Florida. In fact, a few years later, in 1572, he urged the Spanish Crown to engage in a “war of extermination” against the Florida Indians. But at this time, his behavior toward the native population was quite different, and I think it’s important to point this out in order to provide an accurate picture of Menéndez’s motivation and behavior. In “Space and Time Perspective in Northern St. Johns Archeology, Florida,” author John Goggin explains that “Menéndez himself tried to treat the Indians fairly, making special efforts to settle disputes between them and giving no aggressive cause for displeasure on his part. Despite all his care soldiers at one post after another antagonized the natives, necessitating withdrawal of the Spanish in some areas.” Similarly, in the book “Spanish Frontier in North America: The Brief Edition” by David J. Weber, the author explains that Menéndez “initially treated the Indians tactfully,” ordering his followers not to attack and pillage native villages, but he “could not overcome the antagonism that soldiers and priests aroused among the Florida natives. Unruly soldiers assaulted the persons and the property of the natives, while well-intentioned missionaries insulted their religious beliefs and practices.” Eventually, “[u]nable to understand the natives’ motives for attacking them, Menéndez and his compatriots decided that the coastal tribes of Florida were naturally treacherous and deceitful—‘warlike’ and of ‘bad disposition,’ as one Spaniard put it,” and urged Spain to undertake “a war of fire and blood” against them. But that would happen in 1572—well after (and partially as a result of) his experience with the Calusa.

Back to our story: After sailing up the coast and into Tampa Bay, Menéndez and Carlos met with the Tocobaga, who quickly consented to a peace treaty with the Calusa and the Spanish. Although the Spanish had themselves entered into treaties with different tribes, as far as I can tell, this was the first instance in North America of a European brokering a treaty between two different tribes—remarkable, when you consider not only the hatred that the Calusa held toward the Tocobaga, but also that Menéndez had to rely on the assistance of Calusa translators to accomplish this task. I recently contacted an anthropologist at the University of West Florida, a recognized expert in the Spanish colonial period of the southeastern United States, hoping to confirm that this is the case. I haven’t received a reply yet, but regardless of whether it was the first instance of such a peace treaty being negotiated by a European on this continent, it was a tremendous achievement. Although archaeologists are unable to positively identify the site of that meeting, it was reported that it took place at the Tocobaga’s principal settlement, which, as mentioned above, is widely believed to have been their village located here in Safety Harbor. A number of Spanish artifacts have been discovered in the park dating from that period, which lends credence to this idea. Also, in 1900, an early settler named Capt. John Walton allegedly found remnants of Spanish fortifications in Philippe Park, which, if true, would almost certainly confirm this theory. Thus far, however, I’ve been unable to verify whether this claim is true.

There’s a sad postscript to this story. Before sailing away, Menéndez left behind thirty soldiers commanded by a man named Captain Garcia Martinez de Cos, who would continue the search for the alleged waterway across the peninsula and attempt to convert the Tocobaga to Catholicism. But when a Catholic priest came a year later with supplies, he found the Indian village deserted and all of the Spanish soldiers dead. The priest later placed the blame for the tragedy on cruelty exhibited by the Spanish soldiers—which is consistent with my lengthy aside two paragraphs ago—and surmised that the Tocobaga had finally had enough of this poor treatment and rose up against the Spanish.

Other than that tragic postscript, to me, this is an amazing part of town history: a renowned Spanish explorer successfully negotiating a peace treaty between two indigenous tribes. And it happened right here. Yet, to date, there is no public recognition of this event, no historical markers, no plaques.

I’m ending this piece with a proposal. As you know, the town is in the process of developing the strip of land behind the Spa into a municipal park and beach. I believe that this park should be given a name to commemorate what happened almost 450 years ago. The park could be named for Menéndez or even Captain Martinez, who gave his life. However, given the allegations regarding the way the Spanish soldiers treated the Tocobaga, and Menéndez’s later aggression against the indigenous population, my thought is to simply call it “Peace Treaty Park.” In this way, we’d be finally recognizing this fascinating and important part of the town’s history. Let me know what you think of this idea in the comments section below.

I have submitted this name request to the City Commission. But for this campaign to be successful, I’ll need your help in promoting this idea. If you agree with this proposal, you can show your support by e-mailing to the members of the City Commission (their individual e-mail addresses can be found at http://www.cityofsafetyharbor.com/index.aspx?NID=37) or by writing to them at 750 Main Street, to let them know about this important, though neglected, part of Safety Harbor’s history.

Until next time,

--Warren