ST. MARY'S RIVER AND THE SUWANEE WILDERNESS.
A PORTAGE TO DUTTON.--DESCENT OF THE ST. MARY'S RIVER.--FETE GIVEN BY
THE CITIZENS TO THE PAPER CANOE.--THE PROPOSED CANAL ROUTE ACROSS
FLORIDA.--A PORTAGE TO THE SUWANEE RIVER.--A NEGRO SPEAKS ON ELECTRICITY
AND THE TELEGRAPH.--A FREEDMAN'S SERMON.
I now ascended the beautiful St. Mary's River, which flows from the
great Okefenokee Swamp. The state of Georgia was on my right hand, and
Florida on my left. Pretty hammocks dotted the marshes, while the
country presented peculiar and interesting characteristics. When four
miles from Cumberland Sound, the little city of St. Mary's, situated on
the Georgia side of the river, was before me; and I went ashore to make
inquiries concerning the route to Okefenokee Swamp.
My object was to get information about the upper St. Mary's River, from
which I proposed to make a portage of thirty-five or forty miles in a
westerly direction to the Suwanee River, upon arriving at which I would
descend to the Gulf of Mexico. My efforts, both at St. Mary's and
Fernandina, on the Florida side of Cumberland Sound, to obtain any
reliable information upon this matter, were unsuccessful. A settlement
at Trader's Hill, about seventy-five miles up the St. Mary's River, was
the geographical limit of local knowledge, while I wished to ascend the
river at least one hundred miles beyond that point.
Believing that if I explored the uninhabited sources of the St. Mary's,
I should be compelled to return without finding any settler upon its
banks at the proper point of departure for a portage to the Suwanee, it
became necessary to abandon all idea of ascending this river. I could
not, however, give up the exploration of the route. In this dilemma, a
kindly written letter seemed to solve the difficulties. Messrs. Dutton &
Rixford, northern gentlemen, who possessed large facilities for the
manufacture of resin and turpentine at their new settlements of Dutton,
six miles from the St. Mary's River, and at Rixford, near the Suwanee,
kindly proposed that I should take my canoe by railroad from Cumberland
Sound to Dutton. From that station Mr. Dutton offered to transport the
boat through the wilderness to the St. Mary's River, which could be from
that point easily descended to the sea. The Suwanee River, at Rixford,
could be reached by rail, and the voyage would end at its debouchure on
the marshy coast of the Gulf of Mexico.
Hon. David Yulee, president and one-third owner of the A. G. & W. I. T.
C. Railroad, which connects the Atlantic coast at Fernandina with the
Gulf coast at Cedar Keys, offered me the free use of his long railroad,
for any purpose of exploration, &c., while his son, Mr. C. Wickliffe
Yulee, exerted himself to remove all impediments to delay.
These gentlemen, being native Floridians, have done much towards
encouraging all legitimate exploration of the peninsula, and have also
done something towards putting a check on the outrageous impositions
practised on northern agricultural emigrants to Florida, by encouraging
the organization of a railroad land-company, which offers a forty-acre
homestead for fifty dollars, to be selected out of nearly six hundred
thousand acres of land along their highway across the state. A man of
comparatively small means can now try the experiment of making a home
in the mild climate of Florida, and if he afterwards abandons the
enterprise there will have been but a small investment of capital,
and consequently little loss.
The turpentine distillery of Dutton was situated in a heavy forest of
lofty pines. Major C. K. Dutton furnished a team of mules to haul the
Maria Theresa to the St. Mary's River, the morning after my arrival by
rail at Dutton Station. The warm sunshine shot aslant the tall pines as
the teamster followed a faintly developed trail towards the swamps.
Before noon the flashing waters of the stream were discernible, and a
little later, with paddle in hand, I was urging the canoe towards the
Atlantic coast. A luxurious growth of trees and shrubs fringed the low,
and in some places submerged, river shores. Back, on the higher, sandy
soils, the yellow pine forests, in almost primeval grandeur, arose,
shutting out all view of the horizon. Low bluffs, with white, sandy
beaches of a few rods in extent, offered excellent camping-grounds.
When the Cracker of Okefenokee Swamp is asked why he lives in so
desolate a region, with only a few cattle and hogs for companions, with
mosquitoes, fleas, and vermin about him, with alligators, catamounts,
and owls on all sides, making night hideous, he usually replies, "Wal,
stranger, wood and water is so _powerful_ handy. Sich privileges ain't
met with everywhar."
As I glided swiftly down the dark current I peered into the dense woods,
hoping to be cheered by the sight of a settler's cabin; but in all that
day's search not a clearing could be found, nor could I discern rising
from the tree-tops of the solitary forest a little cloud of smoke
issuing from the chimney of civilized man. I was alone in the vast wilds
through which the beautiful river flowed noiselessly but swiftly to
the sea. Thoreau loved a swamp, and so do all lovers of nature, for
nowhere else does she so bountifully show her vigorous powers of growth,
her varied wealth of botanical wonders. Here the birds resort in flocks
when weary of the hot, sandy uplands, for here they find pure water,
cool shade, and many a curious glossy berry for their dainty appetites.
[Illustration: From St. Simon's Sound, Georgia, to Cedar Keys, Florida.
Route of Paper Canoe MARIA THERESA From St. Simon's Sd.
Ga. to Cedar Keys, Fla. Followed by N. H. Bishop in 1875
_Copyright, 1878 by Lee & Shepard_]
As the little Maria Theresa sped onward through the open forest and
tangled wild-wood, through wet morass and piny upland, my thoughts dwelt
upon the humble life of the Concord naturalist and philosopher. How he
would have enjoyed the descent of this wild river from the swamp to the
sea! He had left us for purer delights; but I could enjoy his "Walden"
as though he still lived, and read of his studies of nature with
ever-increasing interest.
Swamps have their peculiar features. Those of the Waccamaw were indeed
desolate, while the swamps of the St. Mary's were full of sunshine for
the traveller. Soon after the canoe had commenced her river journey, a
sharp sound, like that produced by a man striking the water with a
broad, flat stick, reached my ears. As this sound was frequently
repeated, and always in advance of my boat, it roused my curiosity. It
proved to come from alligators. One after another slipped off the banks,
striking the water with their tails as they took refuge in the river
from the disturber of their peace. To observe the movements of these
reptiles I ran the canoe within two rods of the left shore, and by rapid
paddling was enabled to arrive opposite a creature as he entered the
water. When thus confronted, the alligator would depress his ugly head,
lash the water once with his tail, and dive under the canoe, a most
thoroughly alarmed animal. All these alligators were mere babies, very
few being over four feet long. Had they been as large as the one which
greeted me at Colonel's Island, I should not have investigated their
dispositions, but would have considered discretion the better part of
valor, and left them undisturbed in their sun-baths on the banks.
In all my experience with the hundreds of alligators I have seen in the
southern rivers and swamps of North America, every one, both large and
small, fled at the approach of man. The experience of some of my friends
in their acquaintance with American alligators has been of a more
serious nature. It is well to exercise care about camping at night close
to the water infested with large saurians, as one of these strong
fellows could easily seize a sleeping man by the leg and draw him into
the river. They do not seem to fear a recumbent or bowed figure, but,
like most wild animals, flee before the _upright_ form of man.
Late in the afternoon I passed an island, made by a "cut-off" through
a bend of the river, and, according to previous directions, counted
fourteen bends or reaches in the river which was to guide me to
Stewart's Ferry, the owner of which lived back in the woods, his cabin
not being discernible from the river. Near this spot, which is
occasionally visited by lumbermen and piny-woods settlers, I drew my
canoe on to a sandy beach one rod in length. A little bluff, five or
six feet above the water, furnished me with the broad leaves of the
saw-palmetto, a dwarfish sort of palm, which I arranged for a bed. The
provision-basket was placed at my head. A little fire of light-wood
cheered me for a while, but its bright flame soon attracted winged
insects in large numbers. Having made a cup of chocolate, and eaten
some of Captain Akin's chipped beef and crackers, I continued my
preparations for the night. Feeling somewhat nervous about large
alligators, I covered myself with a piece of painted canvas, which
was stiff and strong, and placed the little revolver, my only weapon,
under my blanket.
As I fully realized the novelty of my strange position in this desolate
region, it was some time before I could compose myself and sleep. It was
a night of dreams. Sounds indistinct but numerous troubled my brain,
until I was fully roused to wakefulness by horrible visions and doleful
cries. The chuck-will's-widow, which in the south supplies the place of
our whippoorwill, repeated his oft-told tale of "chuck-will's-widow,
chuck-will's-widow," with untiring earnestness. The owls hooted wildly,
with a chorus of cries from animals and reptiles not recognizable by me,
excepting the snarling voices of the coons fighting in the forest. These
last were old acquaintances, however, as they frequently gathered round
my camp at night to pick up the remains of supper.
While I listened, there rose a cry so hideous in its character and so
belligerent in its tone, that I trembled with fear upon my palm-leaf
mattress. It resembled the bellowing of an infuriated bull, but was
louder and more penetrating in its effect. The proximity of this animal
was indeed unpleasant, for he had planted himself on the river's edge,
near the little bluff upon which my camp had been constructed. The loud
roar was answered by a similar bellow from the other side of the river,
and for a long time did these two male alligators keep up their
challenging cries, without coming to combat. Numerous wood-mice attacked
my provision-basket, and even worked their way through the leaves of my
palmetto mattress.
Thus with an endless variety of annoyances the night wore wearily away,
but the light of the rising sun did not penetrate the thick fog which
enveloped the river until after eight o'clock, when I embarked for a
second day's journey upon the stream, which had now attained a width of
five or six rods. Rafts of logs blocked the river as I approached the
settlement of Trader's Hill, and upon a most insecure footing the canoe
was dragged over a quarter of a mile of logs, and put into the water on
the lower side of the "jam." Crossing several of these log "jams," which
covered the entire width of the St. Mary's, I became weary of the task,
and, after the last was reached, determined to go into camp until the
next day, when suddenly the voices of men in the woods were heard.
Soon a gentleman, with two raftsmen, appeared and kindly greeted me.
They had been notified of my approach at Trader's Hill by a courier sent
from Dutton across the woods, and these men, whose knowledge of
woodcraft is wonderful, had timed my movements so correctly that they
had arrived just in time to meet me at this point. The two raftsmen
rubbed the canoe all over with their hands, and expressed delight at its
beautiful finish in their own peculiar vernacular.
"She's the dog-gonedest thing I ever seed, and jist as putty as a new
coffin!" exclaimed one.
"Indeed, she's the handsomest trick I ever did blink on," said the
second.
The two stalwart lumbermen lifted the boat as though she were but a
feather, and carried her, jumping from log to log, the whole length of
the raft. They then put her gently in the water, and added to their
farewell the cheering intelligence that "there's no more jams nor
rafts 'twixt here and the sea, and you can go clar on to New York if
you like."
Trader's Hill, on a very high bluff on the left bank, was soon passed,
when the current seemed suddenly to cease, and I felt the first tidal
effect of the sea, though many miles from the coast. The tide was
flooding. I now laid aside the paddle, and putting the light steel
outriggers in their sockets, rapidly rowed down the now broad river
until the shadows of night fell upon forest and stream, when the
comfortable residence of Mr. Lewis Davis, with his steam saw-mill, came
into sight upon Orange Bluff, on the Florida side of the river. Here a
kind welcome greeted me from host and hostess, who had dwelt twenty
years in this romantic but secluded spot. There were orange-trees forty
years old on this property, and all in fine bearing order. There was
also a fine sulphur spring near the house.
Mr. Davis stated that, during a residence of twenty years in this
charming locality, he had experienced but one attack of chills. He
considered the St. Mary's River, on account of the purity of its
waters, one of the healthiest of southern streams. The descent of this
beautiful river now became a holiday pastime. Though there were but
few signs of the existence of man, the scenery was of a cheering
character. A brick-kiln, a few saw-mills, and an abandoned
rice-plantation were passed, while the low salt-marshes, extending
into the river from the forest-covered upland, gave evidence of the
proximity to the sea. Large alligators were frequently seen sunning
themselves upon the edges of the banks.
At dusk the town of St. Mary's, in its wealth of foliage, opened to
my view from across the lowlands, and soon after the paper canoe was
carefully stored in a building belonging to one of its hospitable
citizens, while local authority asserted that I had traversed one
hundred and seventy-five miles of the river.
One evening, while enjoying the hospitality of Mr. Silas Fordam, at his
beautiful winter home, "Orange Hall," situated in the heart of St.
Mary's, a note, signed by the Hon. J. M. Arnow, mayor of the city, was
handed me. Mr. Arnow, in the name of the city government, invited my
presence at the Spencer House. Upon arriving at the hotel, a surprise
awaited me. The citizens of the place had gathered to welcome the paper
canoe and its owner, and to express the kindly feelings they, as
southern citizens, held towards their northern friends. The hotel was
decorated with flags and floral emblems, one of which expressed, in its
ingeniously constructed words, wrought in flowers, "_One hundred
thousand Welcomes_."
The mayor and his friends received me upon the veranda of the hotel with
kind words of welcome. Bright lights glimmered at this moment through
the long avenue of trees, and music arose upon the night air. It was a
torchlight procession coming from the river, bearing upon a framework
structure, from which hung Chinese lanterns and wreaths of laurel, the
little paper canoe. The Base-ball Club of the city, dressed in their
handsome uniform, carried the "Maria Theresa," while the sailors from
the lumber fleet in the river, with the flags of several nationalities,
brought up the rear.
When the procession arrived in front of the hotel, three hearty cheers
were given by the people, and the mayor read the city's address of
welcome to me; to which I made reply, not only in behalf of myself, but
of all those of my countrymen who desired the establishment of a pure
and good government in every portion of our dear land.
Mayor Arnow presented me with an engrossed copy of his speech of
welcome, in which he invited all industrious northerners to come to his
native city, promising that city ordinances should be passed to
encourage the erection of manufactories, &c., by northern capital and
northern labor. After the address, the wife of the mayor presented me
with two memorial banners, in the name of the ladies of the city. These
were made for the occasion, and being the handiwork of the ladies
themselves, were highly appreciated by the recipient. When these
graceful tributes had been received, each lady and child present
deposited a bouquet of flowers, grown in the gardens of St. Mary's, in
my little craft, till it contained about four hundred of these refined
expressions of the good-will of these kind people. Not only did the
native population of the town vie with each other to accord the lonely
voyager a true southern welcome, but Mr. A. Curtis, an English
gentleman, who, becoming fascinated with the fine climate of this part
of Georgia, had settled here, did all he could to show his appreciation
of canoe-travelling, and superintended the marine display and flag corps
of the procession.
I left St. Mary's with a strange longing to return to its interesting
environs, and to study here the climatology of southern Georgia, for,
strange to say, cases of local "fever and chills" have never
originated in the city. It is reached from Savannah by the inside
steamboat route, or by rail, to Fernandina, with which it is connected
by a steamboat ferry eight miles in length. Speculation not having yet
affected the low valuation placed upon property around St. Mary's,
northern men can obtain winter homes in this attractive town at a very
low cost. This city is a port of entry. Mr. Joseph Shepard, a most
faithful government officer, has filled the position of collector of
customs for several years.
As vessels of considerable tonnage can ascend the St. Mary's River from
the sea on a full tide to the wharves of the city, its citizens prophesy
a future growth and development for the place when a river and canal
route across the peninsula between the Atlantic Ocean and the Gulf of
Mexico shall have been completed. For many years Colonel Raiford has
been elaborating his plan "for elongating the western and southern
inland system of navigation to harbors of the Atlantic Ocean." He
proposes to unite the natural watercourses of the coast of the Gulf of
Mexico by short canals, so that barges drawing seven feet of water, and
freighted with the produce of the Mississippi River and its tributaries,
may pass from New Orleans eastward to the southern ports of the Atlantic
States. The great peninsula of Florida would be crossed by these vessels
from the Suwanee to the St. Mary's River by means of a canal cut through
the Okefenokee Swamp, and this route would save several hundred miles of
navigation upon open ocean waters. The dangerous coral reefs of the
Florida and Bahama shores would be avoided, and a land-locked channel
of thirty thousand miles of navigable watercourses would be united in
one system.
Lieutenant-Colonel Q. A. Gilmore's report on "Water Line for
Transportation from the Mouth of the St. Mary's River, on the Atlantic
Coast, through Okefenokee Swamp and the State of Florida to the Gulf
of Mexico," in which the able inquirer discusses this water route, has
recently been published. I traversed a portion of this route in
1875-6, from the head of the Ohio River to New Orleans, and along the
shores of the Gulf of Mexico to Cedar Keys, in a cedar duck-boat; and
as the results of my observations may some day be made public, I will
at this time refer the reader, if he be interested in the important
enterprise, to the Congressional reports which describe the
feasibility of the plan.
Another portage by rail was made in order to complete my journey to the
Gulf of Mexico, and Rixford, near the Suwanee River, was reached via the
A. G. & W. I. T. C. Railroad to Baldwin, thence over the J. P. & M.
Railroad to Live Oak, where another railroad from the north connects,
and along which, a few miles from Live Oak, Messrs. Dutton & Rixford had
recently established their turpentine and resin works.
At Rixford I found myself near the summit, or backbone of Florida, from
which the tributaries of the water-shed flow on one side to the Atlantic
Ocean, and on the other to the Gulf of Mexico. It was a high region of
rolling country, heavily wooded with magnificent pine forests, rich in
terebinthine resources. The residence of the proprietor, the store and
the distillery, with a few log cabins inhabited by negroes and white
employes, made up the establishment of Rixford.
The Crackers and negroes came from long distances to see the paper boat.
One afternoon, when a number of people had gathered at Rixford to behold
the little craft, I placed it on one of those curious sheets of water of
crystal purity called in that region a _sink_; and though this nameless,
mirror-like lakelet did not cover over an acre in extent, the movements
of the little craft, when propelled by the double paddle, excited an
enthusiasm which is seldom exhibited by the piny-woods people.
As the boat was carefully lifted from the silvery tarn, one woman called
out in a loud voice, "Lake Theresa!" and thus, by mutual consent of
every one present, did this lakelet of crystal waters receive its name.
The blacks crowded around the canoe, and while feeling its firm texture,
and wondering at the long distance it had traversed, expressed
themselves in their peculiar and original way. One of their number,
known as a "tonguey nigger," volunteered to explain the wonder to the
somewhat confused intellects of his companions. To a question from one
negro as to "How did dis yere Yankee-man cum all dis fur way in de
_paper_ canoe, all hissef lone?" the "_educated_" negro replied: "It's
all de Lord. No man ken cum so fur in a _paper_ boat ef de Lord didn't
help him. De Lord does eberyting. He puts de tings in de Yankee-man's
heads to du um, an' dey duz um. Dar was de big Franklin up norf, dat
made de telegraf. Did ye eber har tell ob him?"
"Neber, neber!" responded all the negroes.
Then, with a look of supreme contempt for the ignorance of his audience,
the orator proceeded: "Dis great Franklin, _Cap'n_ Franklin, he tort
he'd kotch de litening and make de telegraf; so he flies a big kite way
up to de heabens, an' he puts de string in de bottle dat hab nufing in
it. Den he holds de bottle in one hand, an' he holds de cork in de udder
hand. Down cums de litening and fills de bottle _full up_, and Cap'n
Franklin he dun cork him up mighty quick, and kotched de litening an'
made de telegraf. But it was de Lord--de Lord, not Cap'n Franklin--dat
did all dis."
It was amusing to watch the varied expression of the negroes, as they
listened to this description of the discovery of electricity, and the
origin of the telegraph. Their eyes dilated with wonder, and their thick
lips parted till the mouth, growing wider and wider, seemed to cover
more than its share of the face. The momentary silence was soon broken
by a deep gurgle proceeding from a stolid-looking negro, as he
exclaimed: "Did he kotch de bottle _full_ ob litening, and _cork_ him
up. Golly! I tort he wud hab _busted_ hissef!"
"So he wud! so he wud!" roared the orator, "but ye see 'twas all de
Lord--de Lord's a-doing it."
While in Florida I paid some attention to the negro method of conducting
praise meetings, which they very appropriately call "de shoutings." If I
give some verbatim reports of the negro's curious and undignified
clerical efforts, it is not done for the purpose of caricaturing him,
nor with a desire to make him appear destitute of mental calibre; but
rather with the hope that the picture given may draw some sympathy from
the liberal churches of the north, which do not forget the African in
his native jungle, nor the barbarous islanders of the South Seas. A
well-informed Roman Catholic priest told me that he had been
disappointed with the progress his powerfully organized church had made
in converting the freedmen. Before going among them I had supposed that
the simple-minded black, now no longer a slave, would be easily
attracted to the impressive ceremonies of the Church of Rome; but after
witnessing the activity of their devotions, and observing how anxious
they are to take a conspicuous and a leading part in all religious
services, it seemed to me that the free black of the south would take
more naturally to Methodism than to any other form of Christianity.
The appointment of _local preachers_ would be especially acceptable to
the negro, as he would then be permitted to have ministers of his own
color, and of his own neighborhood, to lead the meetings; while the
Roman Catholic priest would probably treat him more like a child, and
would therefore exercise a strong discipline over him.
In one of their places of worship, at my request, a New York lady, well
skilled in rapid writing and familiar with the negro vernacular,
reported verbatim the negro preacher's sermon. The text was the parable
of the ten virgins; and as the preacher went on, he said: "Five ob dem
war wise an' five of dem war foolish. De wise jes gone an' dun git dar
lamps _full up ob oil_, and git rite in and see de bridegoom; an' de
foolish dey sot dem rite down on de stool ob do-noting, an' dar dey sot
till de call cum; den dey run, pick up der ole lamps and try to push
door in, but de Lord say to dem, 'Git out dar! you jes git out dar!' an'
shut door rite in dar face.
"My brudders and my sisters, yer must fill de lamps wid de gospel an' de
edication ob Moses, fur Moses war a larned man, an' edication is de _mos
estaminable blessin'_ a pusson kin hab in dis world.
"Hole-on to de gospel! Ef you see dat de flag am tore, get hole
somewhar, keep a grabblin until ye git hole ob de stick, an' nebah gib
up de stick, but grabble, grabble till ye die; for dough yer sins be as
black as scarlet, dey shall be white as snow."
The sermon over, the assembled negroes then sung in slow measure:
"Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve--
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve--
Lit-tell chil-ern, you'd bet-tar be-a-lieve--
I'll git home to heav-en when I die.
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
I'll git home to _heav-en_ when I die.
Lord wish-ed I was in heav-en,
Fur to see my mudder when she enter,
Fur to see her tri-als an' long white robes:
She'll shine like cristul in de sun.
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
Sweet heav-en ain-a-my-ain,
I'll git home to heav-en when I die."
While visiting a town in Georgia, where the negroes had made some
effort to improve their condition, I made a few notes relating to the
freedman's debating society of the place. Affecting high-sounding
words, they called their organization, "De Lycenum," and its doings
were directed by a committee of two persons, called respectively, "de
disputaceous visitor," and "de lachrymal visitor." What particular
duties devolved upon the "lachrymal visitor," I could never clearly
ascertain. One evening these negroes debated upon the following theme,
"Which is de best--when ye are out ob a ting, or when ye hab got it?"
which was another form of expressing the old question, "Is there more
pleasure in possession than in anticipation?" Another night the
colored orators became intensely excited over the query, "Which is de
best, _Spring-Water_ or Matches?"
The freedmen, for so unfortunate a class, seem to be remarkably well
behaved. During several journeys through the southern states I found
them usually temperate, and very civil in their intercourse with the
whites, though it must be confessed that but few of them can apply
themselves steadily and persistently to manual labor, either for
themselves or their employers.