c t e A:* THE JOURNAL OF THE HISTORICAL
ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHERN FLORIDA
Editor: Charlton W. Tebeau
NUMBER XXIV 1 9 64
Miami Beach Reaches the Half Century Mark 3
By Ruby Leach Carson
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church, Built and Forgotten 21
By Laura Conrad Patton
The Florida Excursion of President Chester A. Arthur 41
By Joe M. Richardson
The Florida Seminoles in 1847 49
Edited by James W. Covington
North to South Through the Everglades in 1883 PART nI 59
Edited by Mary K. Wintringham
List of Members 95
COPYRIGHT 1964 BY THE HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION OF SOUTHERN FLORIDA
Tet utc A: is published annually by the Historical Association of Southern Florida
and the University of Miami. Communications should be addressed to
the Corresponding Secretary of the Society, 2010 North Bayshore Drive, Miami 37,
Florida. Neither the Association nor the University assumes responsibility for statements
of fact or opinion made by contributors.
This Page Blank in Original
Miami Beach Reaches the Half Century Mark
By RUBY LEACH CARSON
As the City of Miami Beach on March 26, 1965, celebrates the fiftieth
anniversary of its incorporation, its 38,023 registered voters, (living south
of the 87th Terrace boundary line), make an interesting contrast in numbers
to the 33 voters who founded the city in 1915.
The city's present estimated population of 65,000 makes it the third
most populous city in Dade County and the eighth most populous in the
State of Florida. State census figures place the city of Miami Beach one step
ahead of Pensacola, which celebrated in 1959 the quadricentennial of the
first Europeans to settle there. And in population Miami Beach is far ahead
of America's oldest city, St. Augustine, where 1965 is its quadricentennial
year. Miami Beach, in surveying the years which have led to her Golden
Jubilee, is obliged to measure progress in terms of decades not centuries,
as do Pensacola and St. Augustine.
As this "playground of the world" enters the Golden Jubilee year, what
has been its progress in the last ten years? A visitor returning to Florida for
the first time since 1955 is struck with amazement as he proceeds across
Biscayne Bay toward the city of Miami Beach. Three changes are visible,
whether his approach is made by air, boat or motor vehicle. They are: the
new Julia Tuttle causeway connecting Miami's Northeast 36th street with
41st Street at Miami Beach; the 35-foot-high bridge spans at each end of
the MacArthur causeway, and the unexpected view of high-rise apartment
buildings along the skyline of Miami Beach.
If the visitor is enlightened briefly on these improvements, he will learn
that the 14-million dollar Julia Tuttle causeway, which links Miami and
Miami Beach, was opened to the public for travel in December, 1959. From
the western end, the causeway is a continuation of the expressway system of
Greater Miami and when built it was estimated that 35,000 vehicles daily
would take advantage of the six-lane, high-span, 55-mile-an-hour scoot across
Biscayne Bay. Thanks to the Miami Women's Club, the causeway was named
for Julia Tuttle, "the mother of Miami", whose memory had not been hon-
ored previously, except by a historical marker in Miami.
The improvements on the MacArthur causeway make it possible for
many boats to pass under without the lifting of bridges. In 1957, two years
after Miami Beach had celebrated its fortieth birthday, the east span on
the causeway was rebuilt to clear the water by 35 feet. The span replacement
at the west end, with similar clearance, was finished in 1960.
As for the new skyline on Miami Beach, the dominant trait in construc-
tion during the 1955-65 decade was the building of high-rise apartments.
Sixty-five per cent of the construction was of this type. By this time the
visitor has crossed the bay and is driven through the picturesque city for a
close-up view of this type of construction. He is suddenly enthralled by
another innovation- the Lincoln Road Mall. What was formerly Lincoln
Road, a bustling, unimaginative avenue of commerce, had become a land-
scaped parkway of tropical splendor -Lincoln Road Mall. Traffic is
eliminated on Lincoln Road for the eight blocks of the promenade which
extends from Alton Road at the west end, to Washington Avenue, near the
Atlantic Ocean, on the east. Parking lots are available on the north and
south, back of stores which now display their world-famous merchandise to
the delighted pedestrians along the Mall.
Sparkling fountains, lily pads in artistic pools, flower beds which pro-
vide blooms for each season, and landscaped garden spots with inviting
garden seats are irresistible attractions on the Mall. Tourists and citizens
find loafing there a wonderful pastime. The Mall was designed by two Miami
Beach men of great talent Morris Lapidus, the noted architect who lives in
Miami Beach; and John Poulos, director of Miami Beach city parks.
The Mall was opened in 1960 and was financed by funds provided by
a municipal bond issue for $600,000 which was approved by the Miami
Beach taxpayers. The 200 stores facing it claim the distinction of carrying
the most desirable merchandise to be found in the U.S.A. For the tired
RUBY LEACH CARSON
visitors, little trams are provided for a slow ride along the parkway. The price
for such a ride is one dime. "The Lincoln Road Mall is a new development
for Miami Beach," reported the Beach Chamber of Commerce, "but it still
retains Miami Beach's original and oldest aim--to make the visitor's stay
here more comfortable and more delightful than ever before."
If the visitor who's been away for ten years thinks that now he has
seen all the changes- he has more surprises coming. Northward from Lin-
coln Road-at 1700 Washington Avenue, is the Miami Beach Convention
Bureau with its Convention Hall which seats over 16,000 persons. It was
opened in 1958. Its size and the available hotel facilities make Miami Beach
one of a half-dozen American cities capable of accommodating enormous
meetings, such as the Shriners, Rotary and American Legion conventions.
These groups are among those that have met in Miami Beach during the last
decade. Close by the Convention Hall is the Miami Beach Auditorium, which
seats about 3,500 persons-and which Jackie Gleason has made world-
famous. Here is the Jackie Gleason story:
Hank Meyer, the Beach public relations consultant described by this
author in "Forty Years of Miami Beach", read in Earl Wilson's column early
in 1964 that "Jackie Gleason loves golf so much he'd like to play 365 days a
year . ." Meyer got busy and persuaded Gleason and his manager, Jack
Philbin, to bring their cast to the Miami Beach Auditorium to produce
thirty shows. Through Meyer's efforts, Miami Beach had already been on TV
through stars like Arthur Godfrey and Ed Sullivan, and he had been re-
sponsible for bringing the Miss Universe show to Miami Beach. The Gleason
contract resulted in thirty Saturday night TV shows from Miami Beach
within a year. It was estimated there would be 32 million TV viewers each
week of the series.
How did the press react to this? Hy Gardner's column in the Miami
Herald on October 12, 1964, included these comments: "The origination of
a top-rated weekly TV-network program makes Gleason a daring and for-
ward-looking pioneer in a field troubled with tradition.
"His presence and sincerity is contributing immeasurably to the reputa-
tion, the morale, the public image and the economy of a resort once notorious
as the sun-kissed corral for Cadillacs, minks, gin rummy, horse players . .
and a long line of luxury hotels ... Gleason's studio audience, all 1600 lucky
ones who can attend each taping and ten times that number who must await
their turn, react to Jackie's jokes, pantomimic perambulations and farcial
facial expressions with the ardor of a paid Met Opera claque. We haven't
seen or heard so enthusiastic an audience since the heydey of the Brooklyn
The Gleason ovation was mentioned by Ralph Renick on his WTVJ
Channel 4 newscast on September 2, 1964.
"When Jackie Gleason decided he'd move his television show to Miami
Beach from New York," said Renick, "the reaction of the network, the cast,
the advertising and talent agencies and sponsors was to say the least, not
"But Gleason was not to be turned aside. He not only desired Florida's
climate and golf courses but the idea of pioneering something appealed to
him. He's been used to succeeding where others have yet to even try. This
week the second of his one-hour Gleason shows was videotaped at the Miami
Beach Auditorium. The city spent 262 thousand dollars to convert the audi-
torium into what Gleason terms 'the finest TV studio in the country'. Gleason
received a standing ovation from the Miami Beach audience- something
which has never occurred in New York. The ovation was deserved.
"The Gleason origination could well be the beginning of Miami Beach's
reputation as a TV capital.
"Perry Como, Johnny Carson and Ed Sullivan have shown interest in
doing shows here this winter. We have had one-time specials and now-and-
then originations in the past. These have all been immensely valuable, but
the continuing series of top-rated shows originating from Miami Beach can
do more than anything else to promote this area.
"On his first show Gleason mentioned Miami Beach twelve times, Miami
twice and the American Scene Magazine title features a palm tree background.
When Arthur Godfrey brought his radio show here in 1952 four boom
tourist years followed. Gleason and others to come are bound to have a most
beneficial effect. All this in addition to the permanent payroll this new
industry has created.
"So consider this a salute to a visionary pioneer a man we're glad to
have in our town- Mr. Herbert John Gleason. He's glad to have you call
RUBY LEACH CARSON
September 24, 1964, marked Hank Meyer's fifteenth year of service to
the City of Miami Beach and 542 admiring friends honored him with a
luncheon at the Fontainebleau Hotel. Sponsors were business and civic
leaders, the Presidents Council of Miami Beach and the Miami Beach Cham-
ber of Commerce. Meyer is a native of New York City, but had moved to
Florida when he received his bachelor of business administration degree at
the University of Miami of which he is now a member of the Board of
Trustees. During World War II he served in the Navy as a chief petty
officer, and in 1949 he was named Public Relations Director for the city of
Miami Beach. In 1953 he was made director of the city's Publicity-News
Bureau, and in 1956 he was retained by the city for the position he now
holds that of Public Relations Consultant.
Newscaster Gabriel Heater, one of Miami Beach's celebrity residents,
was toastmaster at the luncheon for Meyer; and the Miami Beach Daily Sun
gave the event special notice with a headline that declared: "IT HAPPENED
AT HANK MEYER BEACH".
Other publicity experts have given valuable assistance in the develop-
ment of Miami Beach. Among them are S. W. (Bill) Matthews, director of
the city publicity staff; W. Bill Click, who is Special Events Director; and
Allan Cass, who retired in 1963 after serving in the publicity department of
Miami Beach for 13 years. Previously he had been Sunday editor of the
Miami News. Margaret Nedeau also is a talented member of the staff.
The Golden Jubilee year finds a few changes in the newspaper field.
George B. Storer of the Storer Broadcasting Company sold the Miami Beach
Sun, (now the Miami Beach Daily Sun), to the Miami Herald on May 31,
1963; and on the following day Rolfe Neill replaced Parks Rusk as its
editor and publisher. From a column in the Sun come these biographical
comments: "Mr. Neill attended public schools in North Carolina, Georgia and
Mississippi, is a graduate of University of North Carolina with an A.B.
degree in history. He has been in the newspaper business almost all his life.
He . .is married and the father of five children." Neill's managing editor
is Edgar F. Seney, Jr., an experienced Florida journalist, winner of a
Nieman Fellowship, and author of a recently published book, The Gregarian
Invasion. Among the Sun's columnists is the popular radio commentator,
Larry King, heard nightly on WIOD.
The Miami Beach Times, the oldest newspaper in Miami Beach, is still
owned and edited by James Wendler. His wife, Mrs. Alice Wendler, is
secretary and treasurer. This weekly paper is mailed to subscribers.
The president of the McAskill Publishing Company is Leon C. McAskill,
a former publisher of the Miami Beach Sun. Although McAskiIl's This Week
in Miami and Miami Beach first appeared as a weekly in 1924, it did not
become a continuous publication until 1953, and now appears separately as
This Week in Miami, and This Week in Miami Beach. To these weekly infor-
mation-type publications, McAskill has added This Week in Fort Lauderdale
and This Week in Hollywood. Their purpose is to inform visitors where to
find entertainment and points of interest. McAskill also publishes The South-
ern Innkeeper, a monthly trade publication for the hotel, motel and restaurant
The Miami Beach Reporter was started December 1, 1961, by Paul
Bruun, who had been with The Sun for twenty-five years. The Reporter is
a weekly newspaper with hotel and door-to-door circulation. Its managing
editor is Mrs. Rae Gilder.
Although the semi-monthly Miami Beach Visitor had been started in
1932 by Frederick Findeisen, its companion magazine, Beach and Town,
a monthly, did not appear until 1963. The Visitor Publishing Company still
publishes Guest Book, a magazine for hotels. It was first published in 1932.
Mrs. Helen Findeison is secretary and treasurer of the Company, and Mrs.
Lois Cowart Tanner is a vice-president and general manager.
The visitor who likes to do his reading in a public library and who
seeks the one he used to go to before 1962 is in for a really terrific surprise.
Miami Beach's new Public Library, located at 2100 Collins Avenue, was
dedicated in November, 1962. It is east of the old library building and faces
a beautifully-landscaped ocean-front park. The building is a one-story, dark
red granite structure covering 28,000 square feet. The glass wall on the
east side of the large public reading room gives a full view of the park and
ocean, and the chairs in the reading room are comfortable.
Oscar C. Everhart, chief librarian, came to Miami Beach in 1958 from
Indianapolis. Five years ago a North Shore branch of the Library was
opened on 71st Street, just off Dickens Avenue; and in March, 1964, a
RUBY LEACH CARSON
South Shore branch was opened at 225 S. Washington Avenue. These were
city designed and city financed. "New at the South Shore branch this year,"
stated Everhart, "is an extensive collection of books in the Yiddish language."
Counting the five thousand volumes at the South Shore branch and the four
thousand at the North Shore branch, the Miami Beach Public Library has
a total of 104,000 volumes. "We need more," said Everhart. He produced
the following figures to show the Library's progress in the last ten years:
Circulation 169,792 in 1955-56 compared to 351,081 in 1964-65; budget-
$83,659 in 1954-55 compared to $248,000 in 1964-65.
The Library runs a bookmobile which carries 4,500 volumes and which
makes nine stops. One of the most popular features of the Library is the
connecting auditorium which seats one hundred and which is used by com-
munity groups. The outside of the round structure is decorative.
But what about the old Miami Beach Public Library building? This is
the most overwhelming surprise of all to the visitor who has not visited the
Beach for several years. The old building has become the Bass Museum of
Art and is one of the few places in Florida where paintings by the Old
Masters can be seen. It opened April 7, 1964 and by the following Septem-
ber 24, a total of 14,915 visitors had registered.
Thanks to Mr. and Mrs. John Bass of New York and Miami Beach, this
gift of 63 paintings gives the City of Miami Beach a collection that includes
works of such artists as Botticelli (1440-1510), Rubens (1577-1640), Frans
Hals (1580-1666), Van Gogh (1835-1890), El Greco (1541-1614), Modigliani
(1884-1920), and modern French Impressionists. The gift includes also nu-
merous examples of wooden sculpture, (some of it dating back as far as the
fourteenth century); and two of the largest and most unique tapestries in
the world. They are forty by sixteen feet in size and were made in Malines,
Belgium. These tapestries, "The Start of the Hunt" and "The Return From
the Hunt", occupy two walls in the Tapestry room which was built for them.
This room is lighted by a valuable Venetian chandelier which was a part of
the Bass collection.
This city-operated museum is housed in the old Public Library building
which was reconstructed for the purpose, by the city, at a cost of $160,000.
The multi-million dollar Bass collection occupies the first floor of the build-
ing, while the second floor is reserved for travelling exhibits. Admission for
adults and children is reasonable, even free for those who call between 10
and 11:30 a.m. Tuesday through Saturdays. Entrance fees are charged
between 1 and 9 p.m. Tuesday through Fridays, and 1 to 5 p.m. Saturday
and Sundays. Student groups, accompanied by teachers, are admitted free
of charge. The place is closed on Mondays.
Those in charge report that the public has shown its appreciation of this
magnificent gift to the city for attendance by visitors and residents has
been steady. The city librarian, Mr. Everhart, administers the Museum and
its staff of five. In November, 1964, seven paintings by Georges Roualt and
Armand Guillaumin were added to the collection by Mr. and Mrs. Bass.
The work of local artists and musicians was exhibited at the Roney
Plaza Gardens November 7 and 8, 1964, by the Miami Beach Board of Music
and Fine Arts. Assisting Reyna Youngerman, chairman, were board members
Mrs. Max Dobrin, Monsignor Barry, Joseph Goodman, David Hochberg,
John Howard and Mortimer Wien.
The Golden Jubilee finds Miami Beach with new parks and with old
parks enlarged and improved. Jack Woody, director of recreation, has them
listed in three categories-recreation parks, ocean front parks and adult
The recreation parks are: Crespie Park, on Crespie Boulevard at 76th
Street; Flamingo Park, from 11th to 14th Streets on Meridian Avenue;
Fisher Park, on 51st Street and Alton Road; Normandy Isle Park, on Rue
Granville and 71st Street; Fairway Park, South Shore Drive; North Shore
Park, Dickens Avenue between 72nd and 73rd Streets; Polo Park, 43rd Street
and North Meridian Avenue; Stillwater Park, 85th Street and Stillwater
Drive; Washington Park, Washington Avenue and 2nd Street; South Shore
Park, Alton Road and Biscayne Street; Tatum Waterway Park, Tatum Water-
way Drive and 81st Street, and Sunset Island No. 4, on West 21st Street at
the bridge. City swimming pools are in Flamingo and Normandy Isle Parks.
The ocean front parks follow: Collins Park, between 21st and 22nd
Streets; Eightieth Street Park, from 79th to 81st Streets; Lummus Park,
from 6th to 15th Streets; Sixty-Fourth Street Park, between 64th and 65th
Streets; North Shore Park, from 72nd to 73rd Streets; Ocean Terrace Park
(name not official), 74th to 76th Streets; Tier Park, Ocean Drive at 1st
RUBY LEACH CARSON
Street; South Beach Park, Ocean Drive at 3rd Street; Forty-Six Street Park,
on Collins Avenue; Government Cut Park at Inlet Boulevard, an exclusively
Boy Scout Camp, Thirty-Fourth Street Beach, Collins Avenue; and street ends
on beach areas which are open to the public.
Adult recreation sites: Twenty-First Street Community Center, Washing-
ton Avenue; Seventy-Third Street Community Center, Collins Avenue; Tenth
Street Auditorium, where an active Serviceman's Center also is located, Ocean
Drive; Pier Park Bandshell, Ocean Drive at First Street, and the Municipal
Fishing Pier on First Street and Ocean Drive.
The Miami Beach Girl Scout Camp is located opposite the North side
of the Convention Hall Parking Lot.
Miami Beach Golf Courses have not been neglected. Besides its two
municipal 18 hole courses the Normandy Isle and Bayshore, the city now
has one par-3 golf course.
In two of the city parks are tennis clubs: The Flamingo Park group
and the North Shore Park group.
The Miami Beach Garden Center & Conservatory, located behind the
Convention Hall at 2000 Garden Drive, is considered by garden experts to
be one of the outstanding attractions of Miami Beach. It is city financed but
in its incipiency Miami Beach Garden Club members took part in promoting
the project. There are four active Garden Clubs in the city now: The Miami
Beach Garden Club, the Tropical Garden Club, the Palm-Hibiscus Islands
Garden Club and the Mt. Sinai Garden Club. All are proud of the Conserva-
tory, where plants have been brought from all the known jungle areas in the
world. And the accent, they say, is on air plants. It is open to the public seven
days a week-from 10 a.m. to 4:30 p.m.
Also new, since Miami Beach celebrated its fortieth birthday, is the
development of 41st street as a business and shopping center, and its getting
a new name, in 1958, by an act of the city council. The new name is Arthur
Godfrey Road, given in appreciation of the nationwide publicity the TV
star gave the city each year when his show was telecast from Miami Beach.
Early in 1964 the Miami Beach Chamber of Commerce moved its head-
quarters into this district, at 3921 Alton Road; and two years ago the Chris-
tian Science Church moved into its beautiful new edifice near 40th Street on
While there was a general feeling of regret over the old Flamingo Hotel
getting demolished, these emotions changed to admiration early in 1960 as
Emil Morton began construction of the 612-unit, fourteen-story apartment
building on the 13-acre site. Morton Towers is now one of the show places
when viewed not only from the bay but from Bay Road. Another hotel
which replaced a much-loved landmark was the Seville Hotel & Cabana Club,
referred to as the "Hotel of the Year 1956", as it opened in December of
1955. It was built on the site of the former Grossinger-Pancoast Hotel by
Irving Kipnis, Ted Kipnis, Arthur M. Lowell and Morris Becker, according
to the February 10, 1955, issue of the Miami Beach Sun. Building permits
that year totaled $23,536,000. The highest peak for building permits in the
last decade was for the year 1957, when they totaled $32,868,000. The next
highest was the sum of $28,990,000 for 1962. A year later, in 1963, the
total had dropped to $13,169,000.
E. M. Hancock was the city's building inspector until he retired in 1958
after twenty-eight years in office. At one time he served as assistant city
In the matter of education, Miami Beach is keeping up with its growth.
Besides its private schools, it had in September, 1964, five elementary
schools, two junior high schools and one senior high school. The enroll-
ment at these totaled 6,349. Enrollment in September, 1954, was 6,640.
Citizens of Miami Beach are noted, too, for their humanitarianism. No
welfare drive is neglected there, nor are their three great hospitals Mount
Sinai, St. Francis and the Miami Heart Institute neglected. The city donated
land for the public health center which Dade County opened at 615 Collins
Avenue on October 26, 1964. The building costs of $172,000 were paid by
the county. Sydney Ansin was general chairman for the 1964 United Fund
Drive at Miami Beach and Paul Seiderman was named business development
chairman of the Miami Beach division of the Fund.
Sam Gertner, the chief administrative executive at Mount Sinai Hospital
at Miami Beach since 1949, was installed on November 6, 1964, as president
of the Florida Hospital Association. "Under his professional direction," said
RUBY LEACH CARSON
the Miami Beach Daily Sun, "the hospital has become an outstanding institu-
tion for the sick and an excellent working facility for the doctors and sur-
geons. It is many times remarked, by our own citizens as well as visitors,
how blessed Miami Beach is with first-rate medical facilities. (Give a cheer,
too, for Miami Heart and St. Francis). Now, Sam Gertner's been elected
president of Florida Hospital Association, the statewide group of administra-
tors. He was installed Friday at the annual meeting in Clearwater. Thus, a
jury of his peers has measured him and found him an outstanding man . ."
Through his efforts, a teaching program at Mount Sinai includes resi-
dences and internships for forty young doctors. He was one of the originators
and founders of the South Florida Hospital Council which works on accredi-
tation standards for public hospitals, and he was the Council's president in
1955. As a national consultant, he helped in the organization of Four Free-
doms, a high-rise retirement home built by the AFL-CIO on Miami Beach.
His home is at 2325 Magnolia Road, Keystone Point.
A top project of the sixteen groups in the Miami Beach Hadassah
Chapter is aid to the Hadassah Hospital in Israel. These groups are con-
cerned also with the task of saving Jewish children who are behind the
Iron Curtain and in Moslem countries. Another project for Israel which is
receiving help from Miami Beach supporters is the expanding educational
program of Hebrew University, which now has five campuses in Israel.
A number of Miami Beach citizens have given distinguished service to
their own community during the last decade. One group is the Civic League
of Miami Beach which has played an important part in the growth of Miami
Beach since its inception in 1935. Its president is AI Nason, civic leader and
business man. Another group is the Washington Avenue-South Shore
Association, which has spearheaded the modernization of the South Shore
area. Its officers are: Nathan S. Gumenick, owner of Southgate Towers,
president; Ray Redman, executive vice-president; Samuel J. Halperin (the
first president), Max Boderman, Carl T. Hoffman, Joseph M. Rose, Jack
Stein and Newton H. Bollinger, vice-presidents; Marcus O. Sarokin, treas-
urer; Hyman P. Galbut, secretary, and a fifty-member board of governors.
The first board of trustees of Mount Sinai Hospital reads like a list of
Miami Beach V.I.P.'s. On the list were: Sam Blank, Baron de Hirsch Meyer,
Mrs. Max Dobrin, Samuel Friedland, Moses Ginsberg, Abraham Goodman
and Dr. Morris Goodman. Also: J. Gerald Lewis, Stanley Myers, Max
Orovitz, Monte Selig, William D. Singer, Alex Van Straaten, Carl Weinkle,
Henry D. Williams, Mitchell Wolfson and Arthur A. Unger.
Important city officials during the last ten years have been: Mayors
Kenneth Oka, D. Lee Powell and Melvin J. Richard; City Managers Claude
A. Renshaw (who served thirty-five years in this office), Morris N. Lipp
(who resigned in 1962 to become chief engineer of Interama), and 0. M.
Distinguished Miami Beach residents, not already mentioned, whose
influence extends beyond the city limits include the following: Attorney
Harry Simonoff, author of five books, the latest being "The Chosen One";
Metro Mayor Chuck Hall, also Metro Commissioner; Elliott Roosevelt,
elected as Florida's National Democratic Committeeman; Robert Z. Greene,
a trustee and founder of Mount Sinai Hospital; Jack Gordon, banker and
Dade County School Board member who was appointed to assist Senator
Hubert Humphrey stage his successful campaign for the vice-presidency; and
Shepard Broad, president of the Miami Beach Chamber of Commerce.
While the years rolled along after Miami Beach passed its fortieth
birthday, area developments marched ahead with a minimum of friction as
opposing groups revealed a capacity for civic, economic and political ag-
glutination. An exception to this came with the aggressive efforts of a group
of civic officials, business men and hotel men to have the State Legislature
separate Miami Beach from Dade County for the creation of a Miami Beach
The promoters failed to get a bill passed by the 1961 Legislature although
a $50,000 legal fee was paid to the Millard Caldwel's Tallahassee law firm;
and William Gibb, the present administrative assistant to Senator Frank
Smathers, was employed as lobbyist. Although the entire Dade County delega-
tion was opposed to the move, it was the county's only State senator, W. C.
(Cliff) Herrell whose voice was heard. "He took the Senate floor on a point
of personal privilege," stated the Miami News on April 21, 1961, "and said:
'I am confident that the real force behind this move is by those who desire
to create a Miami Beach Las Vegas. It is true that state laws should be
sufficient to protect against this . .' "
Backers of the move denied the claim that gambling interests were
behind their desire to create a Miami Beach County. The April 27, 1961,
RUBY LEACH CARSON
issue of the Miami News quoted Miami Beach Councilman Kenneth Oka as
saying that the creation of a separate Miami Beach County would provide 100
million dollars in ten years to improve the resort city. "In 1960-1961 Miami
Beach paid 24 million dollars in taxes," he said, "eight million to the city and
sixteen million to Metro . and of the sixteen million, the Beach got back
less than three million in services."
Two days previously Councilman Mitchell Wolfson, former mayor of
Miami Beach, was quoted in the press as saying he did not believe the forma-
tion of a Miami Beach County would lower taxes for the average homeowner
of Miami Beach. "Nor will it inure to the benefit of the people of Dade
County ... If Miami Beach should separate itself from Dade County, what
about Palm Beach from Palm Beach County, Fort Lauderdale Beach from
Broward County, Daytona Beach from Volusia County, and Jacksonville
Beach from Duval?" He said that the making of a new county out of Miami
Beach would be "starting a precedent to which there would be no end."
Dade Representative Carey Matthews, who opposed the plan to split
Dade County, withdrew his urban renewal bill for Miami Beach in the 1961
session of the Legislature, claiming he did so at the request of Miami Beach
officials who said that after paying heavy taxes to Metro, Miami Beach
"did not have anything left for rejuvenation." Although the issue was dead
for the 1961 session, two amendments were added to the bill "to make it
easier" when it would be introduced in the 1963 Legislature. Although the
bill was not introduced in the next legislature, the two. suggested amendments
are of interest. One was for a local referendum for the creation of a new
county from another county. The other amendment would permit a city to
annex new territory by a majority vote of those to be taken in. The land
would not have to be contiguous, as at present, but would have to be
adjacent. "This would let Miami Beach take in the keys below it and then
go on over and annex areas in South Dade, if those people voted to come
in," said Representative Matthews. "This would enable the Beach to answer
the arguments re 'no cemeteries, no water supply, no diversification of
No bill for the new county was introduced in the 1963 legislature. A
Miami News poll on November 22 of that year showed that fourteen of Dade
County's sixteen-man legislative delegation "was strongly against a separate
Miami Beach County." While Senator Herrell declined to give support
because he had been elected by the county-at-large, which opposed the plan,
he was the only member of the delegation to a meeting called at the Beach on
November 20, 1963, to discuss the matter. To the gathering of about 150
Miami Beach civic leaders, Mayor Melvin J. Richard "unveiled his plans"
to make Miami Beach a separate county." He proposed paying the State ten
million dollars for publicity over a ten-year period if the separation takes
place. Senator Herrell protested, saying Mayor Richard's plan "is not the
In a signed letter to the editor of the Miami News, Mayor Richard on
November 21, 1963, summed up his views as follows:
"Editor Bill Baggs in the Miami News decries my desire to see Miami
Beach a separate county. Metro has proved itself to be ineffective, inefficient,
vacillating, confused and expensive. Miami Beach, separated from the
rest of the county by a natural barrier of four miles of water, strives to
exist on a tourist economy not incompatible with the economy of the rest of
the county. Yet Miami Beach is forced to pay 20 percent of the county taxes,
little of which is spent in Miami Beach.
"An independent survey by the University of Miami demonstrated that
Miami Beach could more effectively provide all of the services now pro-
vided the Beach by Metro for $4 million a year, while the Beach is con-
tributing to the county annually more than $16 million.
"If Miami Beach had control of those funds a considerable portion
would be spent on publicity, advertising and promotion which is the life-
blood of the economy of the community. But those who run Metro have not
been able to see or hear our pleas for help on those areas. How much of
that 16 million is spent for tourist promotion and how much for capital
improvements at Miami Beach, which the city needs so badly to attract
"Mr. Baggs and others whose financial destiny lies on the West side
of Biscayne Bay, fail to appreciate that this financial drain of Miami Beach
by Dade County will eventually destroy the goose that lays the golden eggs,
that the success of Miami Beach lies in its being able to run its own show
and that when Miami Beach thrives, the rest of the county will likewise
thrive. MELVIN J. RICHARD, Mayor, City of Miami Beach."
RUBY LEACH CARSON
If Miami Beach were to become a county, there would be a much bigger
payroll for employes than there is at Miami Beach City Hall at present.
For the year ending June 30, 1964, the number of persons on the payroll at
City Hall was 1,369. The number has been practically the same since 1960.
Beachites are looking to Interama, the 500 million dollar Inter-American
Trade and Cultural Center, as a prospective economic shot-in-the-arm. While
it will be north of the city limits, it will, according to Congressman Claude
Pepper, create 50,000 jobs and attract a minimum of fifteen million tourists
a year. It was Pepper who, as U.S. Senator in 1939, first introduced a bill
in Congress for Interama. Its present chairman, Dr. Irving Muskat, has been
aided not only by Representative Claude Pepper, but by Senators Spessard
Holland and George Smathers, Governor Bryant and Governor Elect Haydon
Burns in the promotion of an 18.5 million dollar federal loan for the project.
According to the Miami Beach publicity bureau, the city now has
lodgings for 140,000 visitors in 370 hotels and 2,800 apartment buildings. Its
guests number over 1,500,000 annually, coming from every part of the
United States, Canada, Latin America and many European nations.
A real tourist attraction is the now famous "Surfside Six" which has
become known throughout the country as the base of operations for a TV
serial. It is located just in front of the Fontainebleau Hotel on Indian Creek.
A forecast of events which will precede a centennial celebration by
Miami Beach cannot be made by estimating the city's potential according to
past performances. Although dreamers about the future will undoubtedly be
inspired by achievements of their predecessors, the innovations of the space
age can cause them to foresee a fantastic continuation. Permission has been
given this writer by the Miami Beach Daily Sun to quote Hank Meyer's
dramatic forecast describing Miami Beach after another half-century. The
article appeared in Ted Crail's column on September 21, 1964, under Hank
Meyer's name. It follows:
"What will Miami Beach be like 50 years from now? It would be fun
to be around in the year 2014 AD when Miami Beach celebrates its 100th
anniversary . .
"At that time Miami Beach will probably have fewer hotels, but more
rooms. Something close to 100 hotels, individually averaging from between
1,300 to 5,000 rooms . each with its own rocket landing pad . located
on multi-acred Convention-Recreation Hall roofs.
"The trip to Miami Beach from New York will take ten minutes. The
City will be twenty minutes from London and twenty-five minutes from
Bali. Travelers will be flying by rocket and the only noise they will make
will be a soft 'swoosh'. Each rocket will be powered by anti-gravity mecha-
nisms and will require landing area of only 250 square feet. They will be
landing at a rate of one a minute, which should bring in enough tourists to
keep the City fully occupied every day of the year.
"Because of the short travel time from New York, Miami Beach will
become the favorite 'suburb' for commuters from that city, and our towering
apartments will house the families of the men who run the giant industries,
banks and financial houses.
"New hotels will be shining glass towers reaching sky-ward . where
guests could get their tan before getting out of bed. Buildings will soar thirty
or forty stories high, because technology and science have enabled man to
conquer hurricanes and substitute constant cool breezes from the Caribbean.
"Miami Beach will be the TV center of the world (thanks to the pioneer-
ing of the goodwill ambassador Jackie Gleason), beaming the story of our
world back to the moon and the planets . and the winner of the Miss
Universe Contest that year will, of course, be Miss Venus, who most folks
will agree will be out of this world.
"Miami Beach will have a School of Tourism (Branch of the University
of Miami) giving undergraduate and graduate degrees in every phase of
resort operation. It will boast over 10,000 students from all over the Uni-
verse who will be trained in the modern Hotel University Center on the
techniques of every phase of resort management. Our entire educational pro-
gram will be a model of excellence for the entire nation.
"Electricity will be transmitted by Laser Light. Miami Beach will be
the first city in the world to be so electrified. The folks will be campaigning
to get the underground wires (wot?) removed. There will be underwater
nightclubs, restaurants, and recreation areas off-shore which will be reached
by scenic submarines. Even local kennel clubs will shift to that scene of
RUBY LEACH CARSON
activity, featuring racing porpoises. . Miami Beach buildings will be
huge, stretching high into the sky, with immense ground space devoted to
beautiful flowers, trees and spacious recreation areas.
"On the south shore area of Miami Beach there will be a mammoth
Olympic Stadium, all-weather, with reversible top, which will be used for
major international sporting events and large conventions . adjacent to
the Miami Beach Convention Hall there will be an international championship
tennis stadium which will feature the world's professional and amateur tennis
"Surrounding the tennis stadium will be an International Botanical
Garden and that will lead directly to the 'International Plaza' where build-
ings will headquarter major companies from all over the world for the
purpose of using the Miami Beach environs as a testing ground for everything
from food products to pillow cases. Based upon the company's test tube
screening here, product improvements and merchandising campaigning will
"Yes, in 201.4 AD Miami Beach will celebrate 100 years . not its
past 100 years . but its future . unlimited in its horizons . with the
best of Mother Nature combined with the best of man's ingenuity. Miami
Beach will be discovered and re-discovered as not only the vacation capital
of the world but a community with great depth, purpose and meaning!
"There will be a great Inter-American Medical Center here . meaning-
ful research on tropical life . an Inter American Communication Center
where people throughout the world will study and improve means of com-
municating with each other to benefit the entire world. Aside from the
economic and cultural, Miami Beach will have a spiritual re-awakening
giving greater meaning and depth to its existence as a resort community that
serves the world. People will always love Miami Beach because Miami
Beach will always love people.
"What better way to start celebrating Miami Beach's 50th Anniversary
than planning for Miami Beach's 100th Anniversary and getting started with
all of the dreams, plans, ideas and innovations that someday will become a
reality if we all start working toward that goal now!"
The foregoing prophecy entitles Hank Meyer to have the last word.
And so, with a "Happy Golden Jubilee, Miami Beach!", this brief history of
the city during the last decade comes to an end.
This Page Blank in Original
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church,
Built and Forgotten
By LAURA CONRAD PATTON
St. Andrew's Episcopal Church in Little River had only a brief history,
little of which is recorded. Yet it was one of Miami's first churches, and the
first of three early Episcopal missions to have a church building of its own.
There were no churches of that denomination in Dade or Broward
Counties when Bishop William Crane Gray undertook the establishing of the
Episcopal churches in this new area in 1893. The same clergymen ministered
to the spiritual needs of people in the three Episcopal missions, Trinity in
Miami, St. Laurence's in Coconut Grove (then spelled Cocoanut), and St.
Andrew's in Lemon City, later designated Little River. In fact, the church
was called Lemon City, and then Little River, before it was finally named St.
Andrew's. Obviously any account of one of these must also include reference
to the sister congregations.
Father Edgar Legare Pennington wrote in, "The Beginnings of the
Episcopal Church in the Miami Area": "That long Atlantic seaboard a
stretch of 225 miles was thinly settled, difficult of access, and of little
promise. The first official mention of a prospect of development along that
part of the Florida east coast is found in the Journal of the Second Annual
Convocation of the Missionary Jurisdiction (1894) where Cocoanut Grove,
Miami, and Lemon City are listed among the mission stations...."
Early Florida citizens first settled in two small communities along Bis-
cayne Bay. One south of the present Miami known as Cocoanut Grove, and
thirteen miles to the north was Lemon City. When Miami was beginning to be
a town, Lemon City was already a town and the only sizable one in Dade
County. All Dade County in 1880 contained only 257 people.
The oldest church in continuous service was built at Lemon City. The
Methodist built it in 1893 where an Indian Trail (Northeast 61st Street)
crossed Military Trail (Northeast 5th Avenue) south of Little River in Lemon
City. The church was named Lemon City Methodist and the first service was
held on the second Sunday in April 1893. Sometimes the Episcopalians held
their worship service in this Lemon City Methodist Church.
Often these first religious services were held in the homes of the resi-
dents. Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Curry frequently opened their home located
near Biscayne Bay and 62nd Street to the Episcopal prayer meeting group.
Into this sparsely populated new territory came a man of great faith:
Bishop William Crane Gray, the first Bishop of the new Missionary Jurisdic-
tion who had several characteristics of an ancient prophet: a saintly bearing,
a long flowing beard, white hair, tall erect carriage and a good command of
the English language. He had been elected by the General Convocation in the
city of Baltimore, as Missionary Bishop. At 57 years of age he was con-
secrated on December 29, 1892 in the Church of the Advent, Nashville,
Tennessee (where he was rector). In 1893 on January 3rd, leaving his parish
and the city of Nashville, he attended The Southern Convocation at Orlando,
Florida. Arriving on January 5th, he was there for a week and then went to
Key West to begin a long period of visitation of the counties in his district.
Bishop Gray wrote, "No Bishop had ever been and only once a clergy-
man of the church made a brief sojourn there." On April 29, 1893, he became
the guest of Mrs. Julia Tuttle at Miami. Mrs. Tuttle lived in the remodeled
officers quarters of old Fort Dallas on the north bank of the Miami River
near Southeast 2nd Avenue. This she rebuilt using the walls, and renovated
the first floor by laying the floor with Spanish tile obtained from a sunken
ship. A kitchen was added and other buildings as a work-shop, a windmill, a
stable, a boathouse, and a wharf.
Bishop Gray thanked Mrs. Tuttle in his convocation address for the care-
ful and painstaking way in which she had prepared for his visit, making it
known far and wide, and arranging for the different services he was to hold,
and placing her private launch, Neloa, at his disposal.
In the first meeting at Lemon City, April 30, 1893, Bishop Gray held
services in a school house, (a box-like building twenty by forty feet). It was
located just south of the present Northeast 60th Street beside the railroad
track near Northeast 4th Avenue. The school board had given D. W. Blood-
worth the contract for the building in August 1885. At this service the Bishop
had a baptism, and a confirmation and celebrated Holy Communion.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
Attending this first Episcopal service were families of some of the men
who ran a business, farmed, were retired people, or were tourists. One of the
farmers in the area was T. A. Winfield who was known as a "grower." D. R.
Knight had a sawmill and general store. W. A. Filer had a grocery store and
was an agent for the General Land Office through whom homestead applica-
tions might be made. William Mattair ran a blacksmith shop. J. W. Spivey
and Jordan ran a grocery store and dealt in acreage. Willie Pent had a
barbershop and Roy M. Marvin had a bakery. Frederick Matthaus operated
a starch mill making edible coontie starch. Mrs. Carey ran a boarding house,
and the D. M. Connelly's operated a hotel.
Bishop Gray writes of this visit: "I ascertained that in a large portion
of this region the number of church people, or those who have been more or
less under the influence of the church, is greater than that of any other
religious body, and they are very anxious to see the church established in
He spent a week here visiting the people, "by land and by water, visiting
them in their homes, talking to them, instructing them, preparing them for
Baptism and Confirmation, and in every way possible endeavoring to improve
the opportunity before (him)."
Arriving by stagecoach from Lantana along the Everglades on Novem-
ber 28, 1893 in the Biscayne area he says: "The most trying and expensive
journey I have to make in all my jurisdiction."
Helen Muir in Miami U.S.A. gives us some details of this coach line:
"A mule stage line between Lantana on Lake Worth and Lemon City on the
bay was opened, making it possible for the first time for men to reach the
isolated region by land. Uncle John Clemenson was the first driver and he
sauntered ahead of the mule team playing his fiddle. The stage went over
uncomfortable rough roads at the rate of three miles an hour, the journey
of sixty-six miles took two days and fare was ten dollars. The stage coach
was a threat to the seaman's paradise that Biscayne Bay had been until now."
In a personal letter of Will Norton to Mattie Peters dated February 12,
1896 he mentioned the stage and mail deliveries:
"When we first came down here (Lemon City) there was a stage line
from here to Lantana but since the canal is finished they do not run it any
now. We have the mail four times a week now, it comes by steamer from
Palm Beach the steamer runs from there to Miami."
On December 4, 1893 on his return the Bishop found the children and
parents awaiting him in the Biscayne Post Office. He secured two men to act
with the parents as sponsors. "I put on my robes in the one room," he said,
"and had a brief service and baptized six children."
Bishop Gray did not work alone in this wilderness. The Archdeacon of
Monroe, Lee, and Dade Counties, the Reverend Doctor Gilbert Higgs of
Key West also came to promote the work. The Journal of the Third Annual
Convocation gives an account of Doctor Higgs' follow-up of the Bishop's
visit. He reported:
"On the 25th of January, 1894, I took passage in a sailing vessel from
Key West to Cocoanut Grove in Dade County, and arrived there on the
evening of the 27th. Met with a cordial reception and was entertained by Mr.
and Mrs. Kirk Monroe. Made three visits that evening.
"On Sunday, January 28th, I read Morning and Evening Prayer and
preached twice in a Union Meeting House, made four visits, attended the
Sunday School and addressed the scholars.
"January 29. In company with Miss McFarland, a most energetic and
faithful Communicant, made four visits in the morning. In the afternoon I
made eleven visits. Was called out twice that night to read prayers with a
"January 30. Made two visits. Mr. Kirk Monroe kindly took me in his
yacht to Miami, where I met with every attention from Mrs. J. D. Tuttle and
her family and was most hospitably entertained by them.
"January 31. Accompanied by Miss Tuttle, made fourteen visits, and
arrived at Lemon City late in the evening.
"February 1. Accompanied by Mr. Garry Niles an earnest member of
the church, made ten visits. Visited the public school and addressed the
"February 2. Returned to Miami to Mrs. Tuttle's who very kindly took
me in her naptha launch the next day to the head waters of the Miami River.
I baptized in the evening two adults.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
"February 4. Went in the launch to Lemon City. Read Morning and
Evening prayer and preached twice. Returned in the evening to Miami.
"February 5. Left Miami at 9 A.M. for Key West. Detained all day, our
sloop on the rocks; got off at 9 P.M.
"February 6. Landed at Elliot's Key and made one visit.
"Arrived at Key West February 7 in time for Litany."
Miss Ada Merritt was the teacher in this first grammar school men-
tioned by Doctor Higgs and it was to her students that Bishop Gray spoke
during his visit. Miss Merritt was the sister of Mr. Z. T. Merritt. Two of the
first members of Holy Cross Episcopal (which followed St. Andrew's) were
Mr. and Mrs. Z. T. Merritt. Ada Merritt school was named in honor of Miss
Merritt. Not only was the school house used for church services, but Miss
Merritt carried on some of the work of the clergymen. While teaching in
Lemon City she organized and conducted, with the help of Mrs. William
Fulford, the first Sunday school there, and trained a choir. On one occasion
when a nearby family had lost a little child and there was no minister
available to act in that city, Miss Ada comforted the stricken parents by
conducting the funeral service her self.
Two years after his first visit Bishop Gray came again in March 6, 1895
to this area. He "took sailing vessel (from Key West) for Biscayne Bay at
9 A.M. The wind was 'dead ahead' and the sea very rough. At night we had
by tacking gone 60 miles distance, to make 20 miles towards our destination.
"Friday, (March) 8th. Entered Bay Biscayne at 10 A.M., and reached
Miami at about noon Sunday 10th. Morning service and sermon at Cocoanut
Grove. Took a launch to Lemon City, where I read service and preached.
I baptized two children, and confirmed one person.
"Tuesday, 12. Preached and administered Holy Communion at 10:30
A.M. Nine persons received. They had had no opportunity since I was here
a year ago.
"Wednesday, 13th. Left Lemon City on hack at 10 A.M. for two days' trip
through the desert region. Reached Camp LaFayette a little after dark. On the
way was called on to stop and baptize a child.
"Thursday 14th. Left Camp LaFayette at 7 A.M., and it was after
8 P.M., when we arrived at Lantana. Then went ten miles in a row-boat to
W. Palm Beach, where I spent the night."
Bishop Gray came again to the Biscayne Bay area in February 1896.
He arrived after a very rough and irksome trip from Key West, on the
Dellie (one of the boats owned and operated by Mr. Lewis W. Pierce. The
others were the Ardell and Clara, all three named for his adopted daughter
whose name was Clara Ardell and whom everyone called Dellie.) On board
there was "a motley crowd" including a party whom the mayor of Key West
had surprised in a gambling den.
"Thursday, February 13. Running slowly along the keys. Still very
rough. At 3 P.M. only eight-five miles from Key West.
"Friday, February 14th, 9 A.M. Off Cocoanut Grove. At 2 P.M., last
night ran aground. 'Dead' low tide and no wind. The sun pouring down upon
us makes it very warm and close. At dark the Captain came in to say that we
must remain all night, and in the meantime everything has been drenched by
a pouring rain. Truly, a trying day.
"Saturday, February 15th, Lemon City. More rain, and again low tide,
so we could not reach the dock, but were sent ashore in a boat. Got baggage
just in time to perform a marriage ceremony at Hotel Connolly, for Eugene
Lee and Mrs. Marion MacDonald. Drove to Miami in the afternoon to arrange
for services, and returned to Lemon City." This was the first recorded
marriage performed by an Episcopal clergyman in the Miami area.
On the next day, Sunday, Quinquagesima, Bishop Gray started at eight
by way of Miami, for Coconut Grove (13 miles south on the bay) for
morning service. After services he drove back to Miami Hotel located on
Avenue D (Miami Avenue) and south of the spur railroad track leading to
Royal Palm Hotel. Returning that night to Lemon City, he wrote,
"Went over to the Methodist Church, (Northeast 5th Avenue and 61st
Street) where services were appointed. Found it all dark. I went in and
lighted up and some one came and rang the bell. Had service and preached
to a good congregation, mostly men. After service two gentlemen came to
speak to me and I found, to my great relief, that they could take me the next
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
day to Lake Worth in their steamer, in time for my appointment there on
"Monday, February 17th. Took steamer at 9:30, thankful to get aboard,
and so escape the tedious two days staging through the sand in risk, too,
of being late for my next appointment."
Bishop Gray felt the need of a resident clergyman in the Miami area.
The Reverend Henry Dunlop was placed in charge of the Biscayne Bay area.
He has the distinction of being the first resident clergyman. Having been
ordained Deacon in 1867, and was ordained to the Priesthood in St. Matthew's
Church (later St. Paul's) in Savannah in May, 1874. Bishop Gray made
arrangements in May, 1895 to take Reverend Dunlop with him to Biscayne
Bay. In June Mr. Dunlop joined the Bishop at Jacksonville and the next day
- an early feast of St. Barnabas- a celebration was held at Mrs. Julia
Tuttle's house in Miami.
Mr. Dunlop's ministry lasted only a short seven months. He died on
December 5, 1895 at his missionary post of duty. The Bishop paid a touching
tribute to him as the first resident clergyman,
"The Reverend Henry Dunlop was stationed at one of our outposts,
almost on the very frontier of our civilization. He was at Miami (sic) with
charge of the work in the whole Biscayne region. He was living in a small
cottage alone, and 'endured hardness as a good soldier of Jesus Christ'."
A few months after Reverend Dunlop's death the railroad was completed
to Miami. Bishop Gray's travels were then made much easier. No longer
dependent upon the sailing vessel or the stage line, he could travel to or
from Jacksonville in a day.
Another missionary laborer, the Reverend James Otis Sargent Huntington
arrived in 1897. He was forty-three years old, six feet tall, and weighed
about one hundred and ninety pounds, a man well-remembered by a few of
the members of Holy Cross Church to this day. Father Pennington wrote:
"In 1897 the Order of the Holy Cross was beginning missionary labours in
the Miami area. The headquarters for the Order was then located at West-
minister, Maryland, and the members were doing effective service in some of
the out-of-the-way places of the country. The planting which was effected
in the region around Miami is now a cherished tradition."
So in late September of 1897 the Father Superior was expected in
Southern Florida. His stay was to be three or four months. The Father
Superior, the Reverend James Huntington, was born at Boston, July 23, 1854.
He received a Bachelor of Arts at Harvard in 1875, and was a student
of St. Andrew's Divinity School. He joined the Order of the Holy Cross in
1884, and later became the Superior of the Order.
In an October 12, 1897 letter, Father Huntington wrote regarding Miami:
"It is hard for us to realize you are already having frosty nights and
crisp mornings and even perhaps a flurry of snow. Frost never touches this
sunny land; the lowest temperature in the two years was 47F. The mornings
are pretty warm but there is almost always a breeze from the sea by
afternoon. Our house-boat is really the coolest place in town. We are anchored
close to the shore, at the end of a little pier, about five minutes' walk from
the (Trinity) church. The boulevard runs all along the shore and makes the
walk to town easy and pleasant. Looking seaward from the rear of our boat
we have first, the broad waters of the bay, its surface ruffled with waves that
roll up and break out at our feet, then the sky-line, accentuated by low-lying
'keys,' green in the sunshine or darkened by a passing shadow, and lastly,
above it is the wide reach of sky, with clouds constantly changing and shifting
and flushing with brilliant colours in the brief sunrise and sunset. To the
south-east we can see the 'inlet' where the bay gives place to the ocean and the
rippling of these lesser waves is lost in 'the everlasting thunder of the long
"That is the scene before us night and day, (the moonlight has been
superbly, I never appreciated the force of Macaulay's 'ivory moonlight' be-
fore,) and, in face of it, under an awning that runs all around the boat,
we say our Offices with no human presence to distract us save an old
coloured man who rows patiently up and down all night, carrying barrels of
water for the engine where they are building a dock some way north of us.
"Miami is a recent growth. Two years ago there were only two houses
here; now there are about four thousand people and various smaller settle-
ments up and down the coast. The town is well laid out, the main street, really
a noble avenue. There is a great hotel, the Royal Palm, with accommodations
for nearly a thousand guests.
"The church here is a plain little wooden structure and needs almost
everything in the way of appointment and adornment. Even the windows are
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
not in yet but that is a slight deficiency in this climate. We hope to leave
the church more like a house of God than we found it but that depends on
what our friends enable us to do. I have had some generous gifts in answer
to my letters. There is a splendid field for the church here, the people seem
very ready to listen and learn. We have begun to visit them, and hope to build
up many souls into the mystical Body of our Blessed Lord. There are a good
many negroes from the West Indies, brought up in the English Church here,
and these, too, we hope to reach."
While in Miami, Father Huntington was accompanied by Brother
Bernard, a novice who later became a priest. Father Huntington gives us the
November 3, 1897 account of another arrival, that of Reverend Colin S.
Bassett. He says,
"Two weeks ago today, Fr. Bassett came sailing in at the back door of
our houseboat. He arrived in Key West three weeks ago, but tarried over
Sunday as the guest of Archdeacon Higgs, and came up here in the Magnolia,
a sailing-ship, which anchored out in the Bay. We went out on the 'back
piazza' after service, and suddenly Brother Bernard pointed to a black-coated
figure poling towards us in a small row-boat, and a few minutes later Fr.
Bassett came aboard. He seems very well, and has taken hold of the work to
the south of Cocoanut Grove, traveling to and fro, sometimes by a sail-boat,
sometimes by gasoline launch, sometimes on land by wheel kindly lent him
by a gentleman here. Fr. Bassett goes to Buena Vista and Lemon City, north
of here; he has several candidates preparing for Baptism and Confirmation."
The year 1897 was a most significant one in the life and development
of the Episcopal churches. A fourth mission, that of St. Agnes, was created.
Father Huntington tells of his work among the Negroes,
"I wrote you last month that there were some negroes here who have
been brought up in the English Church in the West Indies. We soon found
access to them, and discovered they are not from the West Indies, but from
the Bahama Islands, most of them from Nassau. We have the names of over
thirty who have been confirmed and there are sixteen or seventeen desiring
Confirmation. These Bahamians were rejoiced to have us come to them;
they have had no opportunity of attending Church or making their Commu-
nions since they came. Most of them are young men and women; there are
few families. They are intelligent and thoroughly at home in the Church. We
found a rough 'hall' in the coloured settlement and hired it for some months;
the men took hold and white-washed it and put in benches, with room for
over a hundred people, and now they have built out a neat sacristy, with
convenient arrangements for hearing confessions. We ordered an altar from
Deland where we had one made last year and the people are looking
eagerly for its arrival and are preparing themselves to come with clean hearts
to the Feast next Sunday morning. Sunday evenings we gather in a good
many of the outsiders, and have had congregations of seventy and eighty,
two-thirds of the number men."
St. Agnes celebrated the laying of its cornerstone three years later on
February 14, 1900. The Venerable John Edwin Culmer, Bachelor of Music,
Bachelor of Divinity, and Doctor of Laws; present rector of St. Agnes, has
written a historical sketch of how this church was born,
"Not in a castle nor in a cabin, but in a washtub."
"The year was 1898, The Rev. James O. S. Huntington, late Father Su-
perior of the Order of the Holy Cross, was vacationing in Miami, the house
guest of Mr. John Sewell, pioneer resident of Miami. Mrs. Louise Newbold,
a Bahamian by birth, was Mr. Sewell's washerwoman. It happened on a day
when Mrs. Newbold, while washing the Sewell's family clothes and trying
to lighten her arduous task, was inspired to sing the old familiar hymn,
"The Church's One Foundation." The lusty singing of this hymn attracted
the attention of Father Huntington and approaching Mrs. Newbold, he asked,
"What church are you a member of, Louise?" "The Anglican Communion,"
was Louise's proud reply. Father Huntington, with increasing interest, further
inquired if there was an Episcopal church in Miami where colored immigrant
Anglicans could worship. Louise told the Reverend Father there was not; but
hastened to add that there were scores of Anglicans in Miami from the
Bahamas who were most desirous of worshipping God after the pattern of
worship they were used to in the Anglican church.
"Thereupon, Father Huntington asked Mrs. Newbold if it would be
possible for her to invite some of her Anglican Church friends for a meeting
on the following Sunday. Mrs. Newbold complied with Father Huntington's
request and on the following Sunday, thirty persons met in a private home
on N. W. Third Avenue near Flagler Street where an idea, born in a washtub,
was given the name of St. Agnes' Church.
Regular services were the big change introduced in the Lemon City
mission. Father Huntington in December 1897 began these every Sunday
evening services in an old school house. He writes,
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
"I am going to Lemon City every Sunday evening now. It is about five
miles north. We have taken an old school-house there. It is being white-
washed this week. I had about fifty people (white) there last Sunday evening
and they joined heartily in the service. The principal interest in that neigh-
borhood is tomatoes for the northern market.... We are putting an Altar in
St. Laurence's Mission Room at Cocoanut Grove."
Father Huntington and others who held services in the Lemon City
school-house were no doubt gratified at being able to fill the building to
capacity with worshippers. But it was totally inadequate for school or Church
purposes. A room twenty by forty feet, it was old and in bad repair, and
poorly adapted for the fifty-seven pupils there.
A new building and a new location were both in order. The coming of
the railroad radically changed the center of interest, and brought about the
change of name to Little River, the name given the new railroad station.
Father Pennington writes of 1898:
"Bishop Gray reached Miami on the evening of January 30th, 1898;
he was eager to see the results of Father Huntington's labours. The next
morning, assisted by Father Huntington and the Reverend Mr. Bassett, he
celebrated the Holy Eucharist in Trinity Church. After breakfast, Father
Huntington took the Bishop as far as Lemon City, visiting candidates for
confirmation on the way. At 3 P.M., that day, the Bishop confirmed nine
persons, Mrs. Julia Tuttle, who had done so much for the church in Miami,
being one of the number."
In 1897 also steps were taken to build churches for the Episcopal
missions in Little River and Miami.
Much of St. Andrew's Church history was shaped by the energetic and
continuous efforts of Mr. and Mrs. Turner Ashley Winfield. It was through
her influence that William I. Peters and Iona Peters gave two lots for the
church. These were located on Northeast Second Avenue and 80th Street
where Little River Bank now stands.
Bishop Gray wrote of the property: "Having had two good lots donated
at Lemon City for a church, on November 29th, appointed a committee to
raise subscriptions, 'towards the first Episcopal Church to be built on
Mr. Winfield financed the construction of this first building and was
later repaid by the congregation and friends of the church.
For five months after Reverend Henry Dunlop's death in 1896 there
was not a regular clergyman in this area. Bishop Gray appointed Mr. C.
Wilbur, an elderly English carpenter, a lay reader to assist in the work of
the church. Doctor Higgs, pastor of St. Paul's in Key West came as on May
5, 1897 to work a few days at a time here. On this visit, he drafted plans for
a Mission Church under the directions of Mr. Brown, architect, which
became Trinity in Miami.
The deed for the Trinity Church property was secured from Mrs. Julia
Tuttle -"Lots eight (8), nine (9), and ten (10) of block one hundred and
three N. (103 N.), as shown on the map of the City of Miami, Dade County."
This transaction took place on February 15, 1898 while Dr. Higgs was
spending three days here, celebrating the Holy Communion and making
Bishop Gray writes on May 25, 1898 of settling in full the debts on
"Dr. Higgs (from Key West) and I went at once to work in the matter
of getting all accounts here squared up, and all to be in black and white.
Thursday, May 26. We were up till 2 o'clock in the morning. Solution of
all in sight by my assuming additional responsibility, which I did."
Mrs. Winfield tells some of the circumstances connected with the building
of the Little River Church. On Bishop Gray's visit to Miami, she says:
"A messenger was sent out to me who stated that the Bishop was charmed
to know that a church was in progress of construction; and he wondered
whether the building was in sufficient readiness for service." Mrs. Winfield
replied with an invitation.
"Come right along! We'll be ready." She promptly called her husband,
and he secured a carpenter.
Mr. Winfield, Mr. Edward De Vere Burr, and a carpenter went to the
church that afternoon and built seats with little back rests on them. Under
these conditions, the Bishop conducted his first services in the church.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
Lights were secured from private individuals. Mrs. Burr (Lucy) provided an
altar by lending a small table for that purpose. The table came from Virginia
in 1893 to Bartow, Florida, brought along by the young Lucy Crouch who
later became Mrs. Burr in 1896 in Miami. The table is still in use by Margaret
Burr Claussen, the daughter of Lucy.
Reverend Robert M. W. Black and his wife came next from Flat Rock,
North Carolina. They left a well established and beautiful church to do
frontier pioneering here. Mrs. Black gives us an account of their stay in
Florida and how difficult it was to travel. Mrs. Black looks back with a great
deal of amazement at the changes taking place here in the last sixty years.
"What do you remember of Little River?" I asked Mrs. Black.
"I never was there," was the reply, and she continued, "my husband
went by rowboat with a Negro to do the rowing. It was too dangerous for
me to go. I never was allowed to go to Little River or Coconut Grove. There
were dense mangrove thickets, all the paths were grown over and snakes were
often seen in those places."
"Where did you live while here?" I questioned.
"On the mud banks of the Miami River in a two room house. The upstairs
was reached by a ladder through a square hole cut out of the ceiling. Planks
were placed over the mud bank and led to the sandy soil further from the
water. Cutting the mangrove trees from the banks of the river in clearing
the land for the Royal Palm Hotel caused deep mud flats all around our
house. The sticky, suction-like earth was never dry," recalls Mrs. Black.
Speaking of the hardships Mrs. Black says: "Perhaps the mosquitoes
were the worst hazard of all. There were hoards of them and no adequate
way of keeping them out of the house, too, our water supply came from a
pitcher pump outside the house in the muddy yard."
"Then you knew Bishop Gray?" I prodded.
"I knew Bishop Gray very well and admired him greatly. He slept on a
cot in our upstairs room when visiting here."
"You did not stay long in Miami," I stated.
"We could not because of illness, both of us had malaria fever very
badly. One day Mr. Black would have a chill and the next day I would have
We have the newspaper's account of a reception given for the Blacks
when they were leaving Miami in 1899:
"The members of the Episcopal Church and their friends tendered the
Rev. and Mrs. R. M. W. Black a reception in the parlors of the Hotel
Biscayne last night.
"The following persons were present: Rev. and Mrs. W. W. Faris, Rev.
and Mrs. W. C. Barnes, Collector and Mrs. Featherly, Mrs. Graham, Mr. and
Mrs. Forrest Lake, Mr. and Mrs. Bradley, Mr. and Mrs. Frederick, Mr. and
Mrs. Carpenter, Mr. and Mrs. Hand, Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, Rev. E. V. Black-
man, Mrs. Kolb, Mrs. Dixon, Mr. Lolce, Mr. and Mrs. S. Graham.
"After spending the first part of the evening in pleasant conversation,
the dining room doors were thrown open.
"Mr. Black has been pastor of the Episcopal Church here for the past
few months, and during that time has accomplished much for the church
and the community.
"During the winter he collected nearly a thousand dollars, which has
been expended in building a pretty and comfortable rectory, and in improv-
ing the church building.
"Mr. and Mrs. Black leave in a few days for their old summer charge at
Flat Rock, N. C.
"The best wishes, not only of the members of the Episcopal Church, but
all that have been fortunate enough to make their acquaintance go with them."
Bishop Gray wrote of his visit in Miami, February 3, 1899, and noted
that Mr. and Mrs. Black gave him, "a warm welcome to the new Rectory;"
and he expressed pleasure at what he learned concerning the work there and
in the surrounding places.
On February 5, 1899, the Bishop and Mr. Black held services at Trinity
Church. That afternoon, they were at Coconut Grove where the Reverend Mr.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
Black baptized one person, and where Bishop Gray preached in the Methodist
Church and confirmed two. At 7:30 P.M. that day-Septaugesima-assisted
by Mr. Black, the Bishop held services in the new church at Little River.
There he preached.
The first Lemon City-Little River-St. Andrew's Church required six
long years of work to complete. People living in the surrounding areas
attended services there whether or not they were of the Episcopal faith. This
church was sometimes referred to as the "Chapel." In building churches in
this community regardless of church affiliation, activities were shared by all.
Mrs. Winfield, like others on a frontier, shared in all community and religious
activities. She wrote and directed a play for the Baptist Church. Mrs. Garrod
B. Stephens was the popular soloist of that day. She was a Presbyterian who
sang in both the Methodist and Episcopal churches.
A number of gifts in addition to the land were made to the Little River
Church. The altar came from Union Episcopal in Coconut Grove. It was a
big, heavy wooden unpainted piece. In fact, it was too large for the church
building! In order to use it some of the men sawed off part of the original
and fitted it into the smaller altar space of the church.
Hymn books and prayer books were given to Little River also by the
Union congregation who had a generous supply. A New York church had
gathered up the more used books and sent them to the needy mission. They
were gladly accepted by the frontier church. Some of these prayer books
were so old and so much used that the ladies of the church bought incon-
spicuous cool green light-weight cotton material and covered the marred
backs. Some of the covered cloth prayer books are still preserved sixty
One of the largest gifts which came some years later was an organ.
James Whitcomb Riley from Indiana, the world-renowned poet who wintered
in South Florida, worshipped here in Little River. After his visit the church
received a small church organ from Mr. Riley as an expression of his mis-
sionary interest. Mrs. Winfield played the organ with one key sticking.
Gertrude Westgaard would often sing in the choir when visiting her sister
who lived here. On a number of occasions she would aid the organist by
placing a finger under the sticking key on the organ and hold it up while
singing. Everyone soon knew the key stuck because Mrs. Winfield would
chat about the key, song after song, and Sunday after Sunday.
Still another source of church monies were bazaars. As is still the custom
in many Episcopal churches, a bazaar is held once a year to raise money
for the church. These were usually held in the home of Mrs. Winfield on
an afternoon and evening. Items for sale were collected by the women for
the sale over a period of time. Mrs. A. C. Swain and Mrs. Winfield did
crocheting for the bazaars. Collars, yokes for gowns, edging for camisoles,
and table doilies were made by these women.
Silver companies would give "one of a kind" sample pieces to the bazaar
sale which was one way of advertising in a new community. Any item not
sold was packed away and displayed the next year. A very pretty Reed and
Barton silver tea pot with its handle insulated with bone with an alcohol
burner for warming, swinging on its own stand, was priced too high to sell.
This tea pot was packed away but not forgotten by Mrs. Winfield. In
late 1904 when Mamie Douthit was married, she was given some money for
a wedding present by her Aunt Alice Ecle, "to buy a present for yourself".
Mrs. Winfield, being a close friend of Mamie's, knew of the money and
immediately suggested the tea pot. Being in the hands of such a good sales-
lady, the tea pot was bought.
Next upon this scene was a devout man with religious training, the
Reverend Nathaniel Bornwell Fuller. Miss Bessie Fuller, his daughter, has
given the following description and account of Trinity Church at the time
of her Father's arrival:
"When my Father came to Miami in July, 1899, to take charge of Trinity
Church, the church building, which was then situated on the corner of old
Avenue B and 10th Street (now Northeast 2nd Avenue and 2nd Street) was
"The altar was a wooden frame covered with red cheesecloth, as were
the other hangings; and the windows were covered with the same material
and of the same colour. The young men would ask each other where they
were going to church; and they would reply, 'We are going to the church of
the Holy Cheesecloth.' The cheesecloth altar was soon replaced by a very
pretty altar given by Mr. and Mrs. Charles A. Garthside; and the wooden
shutters replaced by windows with glass panes."
Phenomenal growth was experienced by Miami so that Trinity became
the best-known Episcopal Church. Neither Coconut Grove nor Little River
were ever again to progress with the same rapidity as Trinity.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
In 1902 Chancellor Louis C. Massey reported to the Convocation the
conveyance of the Church property at Little River Mission to the Missionary
Jurisdiction of Southern Florida. The committee on Finance and Assessments
at the time recommended that the Cocoanut Grove Mission he assessed $2.40,
Trinity, Miami, $12.00, and Little River, $3.60, a measure of the relative
importance of the three.
Aiding Reverend Fuller to carry the additional church duties was the
Reverend Dwight Frederic Cameron who was placed in charge of the missions
around Miami. He arrived in 1903, coming from Geneva, Switzerland. He
had received his education at Cornell University and at the University of
the South. Being only 28 years old, Reverend Cameron has the distinction of
"youngest" minister to ever work in this church. Usually the "near-retirement-
age" men were sent to South Florida.
The one and only picture of this church was made while Reverend
Cameron labored here. He is pictured outside the church building in a black
suit wearing a rather large black felt hat. With the Reverend Cameron is a
group of women who are: Mrs. Turner Ashley Winfield, Mrs. Edward
De Vere Burr with her two children Richard and Margaret, Mrs. B. C.
Du Pont, Miss Mamie Douthit, Mrs. Amos Cutler, and Mrs. L. C. Littlefield.
In the year 1904 Messrs. Fuller and Cameron drove to Little River with
the Bishop and held services for the St. Andrew's Congregation. The Bishop
wrote of this visit, "The church there had been destroyed by a recent hurri-
cane, and we held the services in a hotel. I preached. Gave the offering
towards the new church."
The hotel referred to is the McDonald Hotel in Little River, which was
owned and run by my mother, Mary Douthit Conrad. It was a two-storied
wooden building with twelve rooms. Often Bishop Gray was a visitor at the
McDonald Hotel, the largest in the area at that time.
The little handful of communicants at Little River determined not to
give up. The frame structure had been destroyed by a storm, but the resolution
to conquer was admirable. On the 15th of August, Bishop Gray arrived in
the village, and was the guest of Misses Mamie and Senie Douthit at the
hotel. Visiting the site of the new church, he found the lumber already on
the ground to rebuild the church.
A wedding hastened the completion of the second St. Andrew's church
building. Senie Douthit wanted to be married in the Episcopal Church. The
walls were up and the roof on, but no floor laid. Mr. Jim Hubel, a family
friend, led the movement on flooring the building. Some twenty members and
friends banded together and worked diligently at getting the floor finished.
At some later date glass was put in the windows. For the wedding,
coconut fronds were tacked across the windows in lieu of glass. Another
decorating feature was white sheets used as a covering on the rostrum and
down the aisles. Wild ferns and yellow Marechal Niel roses were used in
profusion along the sides and back of the altar. Small kneeling pillows were
outlined in yellow roses.
Father Fuller, who had known the couple, performed the 8 o'clock
ceremony on October 25, 1904.
Besides the storm damage to the church building there were other set-
backs in the evangelical work, such as difficulty in securing personnel to do
the preaching. The Reverend Cameron moved to West Palm Beach and in
1905 the Reverend George Bernard Clarke was put in charge of the missions
around Miami. But he was handicapped by bad health. Under Reverend
Clarke the name of Little River Mission was changed to St. Andrew's, thus
this church had its third name.
In 1906 another hurricane blew into Little River and again damaged
the structure when it was blown from its foundation.
In spite of growing sentiment in favor of moving the church to a new
location, the Bishop decided to put the building back on its foundations "as
means for securing another lot and moving the church are not in sight."
Reverend Clarke was also instrumental in the founding of Holy Cross
at Buena Vista. He saw the need for a church in a growing center of popu-
lation. It was not designed to supersede the mission at Little River, but it
was fated to do so. But he told Mrs. Winfield that he would never consent
to the removal of St. Andrew's as long as she lived. And, for a time, the
communicants at the original site refused to move to Buena Vista but St.
Andrew's survived five years only after the opening of Holy Cross.
Even as late as 1908 the Convocation Journal lists St. Andrew's in Little
River and the Buena Vista Church is not mentioned. One of the last services
held in St. Andrew's was on March 12, 1910, which Bishop Gray preached.
LAURA CONRAD PATTON
On March 23, 1912 Bishop Gray definitely decided to make this move.
"Saturday, March 23. Went up to Little River. I fear we can do nothing
more at this point, and may have to let the building go before it rots down."
A bit of the history of St. Andrew's Church is preserved on a plaque
at Holy Cross. It reads:
IN MEMORY OF THE CONGREGATION OF ST. ANDREW'S
CHURCH, LITTLE RIVER, WHO PRIOR TO THE DEVELOP-
MENT OF THE CHURCH OF THE HOLY CROSS, BUENA VISTA,
BORE WITNESS TO CHRIST IN THE NORTHERN PART OF
THE MIAMI AREA WITH CONSTANCY, DEVOTION, AND
ERECTED BY THE YOUNG PEOPLE'S SERVICE LEAGUE,
HOLY CROSS EPISCOPAL CHURCH.
Even the record of the St. Andrew's Church is mostly lost. The plaque
cited above, a picture of the second church building, and one entry in an
old record book, (the marriage of Mary Camilla James to W. Sanford Perry)
are the only remains. From other accounts and from diocesan records, it has
been possible to learn the names of the ministers. Establishing a list of
members is far more difficult, in fact, impossible. However, it seems likely
that the following persons were members of St. Andrew's:
Miss Grace Andrews, Mr. Thomas J. Albury, Mrs. Charlotte Albury,
Edward Barnott, Annie Barnott, William Barnott, Jack (John Herbert)
Barnott, Alice E. Barnott, Oliver D. Barnott, Albert Sidney Barnott, Thomas
Allan Barnott, Mrs. Edward De Vere Burr, Miss Margaret Burr, Mr. W. A.
Chandler, Mr. Amos Cutler, Mrs. Annie Cutler, Miss Mamie Douthit, Miss
Senie Douthit, Mrs. B. C. DuPont, Miss Annie Fickle, Olive Fickle, Kathleen
Dell Hubel, Mr. L. C. Littlefield, Mrs. L. C. Littlefield, Margaret Elizabeth
Matthews, Robert Warner Matthews, Agnes Ann Belle Matthews, Mr. Duncan
Moffet Niles, Mr. Garry Niles, Helen Agnes Peden, Mrs. Dee Pent, Annie
Laura Pent, Annie Geneva Pent, Marie Pent, James Pent, William Harvey
Pent, Mr. A. C. Swain, Mrs. A. C. Swain, Martha Swain, Marion Swain.
Nor is it surprising that St. Andrew's should be all but forgotten. It
appeared on a rapidly growing and changing frontier. The coming of the
railroad shifted the center of population away from the location. The change
of name from Lemon City to Little River to St. Andrew's added a note of
confusion. But the plaque at Holy Cross always serves as a reminder that
a congregation existed earlier at St. Andrew's.
The Florida Excursion
of President Chester A. Arthur
By JOE M. RICHARDSON
President Chester A. Arthur, who partook as freely of the pleasures as
of the labors of Washington, was beginning to feel the strain of his rapid
pace by early 1883. Observant friends noticed that his face was lined and
his eyes dull. He was gaining weight, but losing energy, and by March, it
seemed obvious that steps had to be taken to avoid serious illness. A com-
bination "personal health-seeking" and a political pulse-taking trip to Florida
was planned for April.1
Florida, by 1880, was becoming fashionable as a winter and early spring
resort for wealthy Northerners. The "balmy" Florida winters had captivated
the "Northern Sybarites," who, as regularly as October returned, fled by the
thousand "from the rigors of their native frosts and snow-storms." Every
winter the number of tourists was larger and they lingered longer. An
estimated 150,000 excursionists visited Florida in the winter of 1884-1885.2
"It is surprising," the Cincinnati Commercial-Gazatte, reported in March,
1883, "when inquiring for the businessmen of New York, to ascertain that
so many of them have sought the softer clime of Florida." A visit to Florida
in the winter was almost as fashionable as a trip to Europe in the summer
for wealthy New Yorkers whose bank accounts were in better condition than
Joseph Medill, editor of the Chicago Tribune, remarked upon his return
from Florida in April, 1883, that the State was swarming with Northerners
and to a casual observer appeared to be a Northern community. Natives were
amicable toward Northern visitors and claimed to be "thoroughly recon-
1 Geroge F. Howe, Chester A. Arthur: A Quarter-Century of Machine Politics (New
York, 1935), 243-44; Bess Furman, White House Profile: A Social History of the
White House, its occupants and its festivities (New York, 1951), 237.
S"Florida: The State of Orange-Groves," Blackwood's Magazine, CXXXVIII (Sep-
tember, 1885), 319; Tallahassee Weekly Floridian, April 17, 1883.
a Cincinnati Commercial-Gazatte, March 11, 1883.
structed," Medill said.4 Preparing for a southern tour in 1884 a New Yorker
shook off the snow, went into a shop, and asked for four yards of silk tissue.
Not in the least astonished the saleslady filled his request and said: "'Yes,
sir; veils. For Florida? We sell this veiling every day in winter . No
mosquito can get through it. Dreadful weather sir.' In addition to its
salubrious climate 6 the State was noted for its abundance of wildlife; a
region where the deer fed with a "shocking tameness," wild turkey seemed
domesticated, and fish could be caught without "trouble or skill.", Since
Arthur was an ardent angler, the Florida climate was salutary, and a
Southern tour might be efficacious politically, the "Sunshine State" seemed
a logical selection for a recuperative trip.
On April 5 the Arthur entourage, which included Secretary of the Navy,
William E. Chandler, Arthur's private Secretary, F. J. Phillips, Arthur's
chef, and Aleck Powell, a Negro messenger, left Washington by a fast mail
train.8 Reporters accompanying the President were impressed by the change
in architecture as they went further into Florida; a change they attributed
to the "Yankee element" which had been drawn to Florida in a "spirit of
enterprise."" After a delay caused by a broken coupling, Arthur arrived in
Jacksonville on the evening of April 6, where he was greeted with the most
enthusiastic demonstrations of the entire trip. A welcoming committee
headed by Jacksonville Mayor, W. McL. Dancy, and Horatio Bisbee, Jr.,
a Republican United States Congressman from Florida, met Arthur at
Callahan to escort him into Jacksonville. The streets were filled with well-
wishers, and the Jacksonville Light Infantry, the Florida Light Artillery,
and the Negro Infantry were waiting in formation. "As the train neared the
depot deafening cheers from the throng which had gathered there rent the
air," and a salute of twenty-one guns was fired. In a brief reply to a wel-
coming speech Arthur expressed his "most cordial thanks" for the flattering
attention, which he said, he recognized as a demonstration of Florida's
respect for the Chief Magistrate of the nation and loyalty to the Federal
4 An interview with Medill reported in the New York Tribune, April 12, 1883.
a "The Cruise of the 'Wallowy'," Harper's Magazine, LXX (January, 1885), 216.
George E. Walton, "Remedial Value of the Climate of Florida," Popular Science
Monthly XXII (March, 1883), 642-50: XXIII (May, 1883), 114-15.
"The Drainage of the Everglades," Harper's Magazine, LXVIII (March, 1884), 602.
s New York Tribune, April 6, 1883.
9 New York Times, April 13, 1883.
JOE M. RICHARDSON
authority he represented. A representative of the Negroes greeted him not
only as the Chief Magistrate, but as a "life long friend."1o
Originally the President had intended to spend the night in Jacksonville
but decided to continue to Sanford, perhaps because smallpox had broken
out before he arrived. At least twenty-five cases had occurred among the
Negroes and within a few weeks twenty-four deaths were reported.'- The
Presidential party boarded a steamer on the St. Johns River and arrived in
Sanford in the early afternoon of the 7th after a "beautiful river trip" which
was "generally enjoyed" by all. The "fairy-like scene," Chandler declared,
"surpassed anything he had ever imagined about Florida.-' The President
expressed surprise at finding a "place so beautiful" and "accommodations
so admirable" at Sanford.12
After dining the Presidential party was driven to the Belaire orange
plantation of Henry S. Sanford, founder of the town, professional diplomatist,
and former minister to Belgium. Much to the delight of the visitors some of
the over-ripe fruit was still on the trees. After several unprofitable efforts
to secure fruit from the ground, Secretary Chandler "shucked" his coat,
gaily climbed a tree and picked some.'3 That night at Sanfords the visitors
enjoyed what they considered a rare treat. A few Negro boys gathered around
an "ebony hued" comrade who was "tum-tuming" a banjo and singing in a
Oh! Where is my beauty gone?
Meet me by the moonlight alone.
The others soon joined the chorus "accompanied by pattering feet and
occasionally the clicking bones." Two "frightfully unkempt and ragged" boys
began to dance in unison. Arthur and friends heard the music and soon
became attentive listeners. Song followed song until near midnight much to
the gratification of the visitors."
lo Ibid; Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 7, 1883; New York Tribune, April 7,
1883; Rowland H. Rerick, Memoirs of Florida (2 vols.; Atlanta, 1902), I, 355.
11 New York Times, April 7, 1883; T. Frederick Davis, History of Jacksonville, Florida
and Vicinity 1513 to 1924 (St. Augustine, 1925), 165.
"s Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 11, 1883; New York Times, April 8, 13, 1883;
New York Tribune, April 8, 1883; William E. Chandler Diary April 6, 1883, New
Hampshire Historical Society Library, Concord, New Hampshire.
13 Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 11, 1883; New York Times, April 8, 1883;
Leon B. Richardson, William E. Chandler: Republican (New York, 1940), 356;
William E. Chandler Diary, April 8, 1883.
14 New York Times, April 13, 1883; Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 11, 1883.
On Monday, April 9, Arthur left Sanford for Kissimmee City in an
irritable mood. He had been in good humor up to the close of the minstrel
show Saturday night, one reporter said, but Sunday he "began to look bored
and Monday morning found him savage and dangerous." Secretary Chandler
soon joined the ranks of the indisposed. The party stopped at Maitland, a
few miles from Sanford, and then went by buckboard to Winter Park, which
reporters said was the prettiest town of all. Chandler was in the back seat
of the buckboard with a lady when the seat gave way in a dip in the road
throwing them both out backwards. The lady was unhurt. Chandler was
momentarily stunned, but soon discovered that he had suffered no injury
beyond "a violent wrench" of his back. He laughed about the mishap
quipping that as he had no backbone to spare it was unfortunate that it
should be injured.15
At Winter Park the party again boarded the train. Arrangements had
been made to entertain the President at Orlando, but the irritable Arthur
refused to stop. He did, at the urging of companions, go out on the platform
where he "bowed and smiled." However when the train stopped rather than
merely slowing as he had ordered, he fled inside the car with a look of
"intense" anger and disgust. The President boarded the steamer, Okeechobee,
at Kissimmee and went out on Lake Tohopekaliga. Accompanying reporters
believed themselves to be at the end of civilization since telegraphic com-
munication went no further south. However observers were ecstatic about
the surrounding scenery. The land region was described as "a sea of maiden
cane embroidered with bay and cypress" and other vegetation which was
"everywhere magnificent in its richness and variety of color and tones.""
His art as an angler was soon demonstrated by Arthur. He caught five
ten pound bass in Reedy Creek and was reported "well and in good spirits.""1
His friends spoke of his fishing as though they honored him more as the
"First Angler than as the First Magistrate of the Republic."1 He was a record
salmon fisher having taken fifty pounders, and his casts with a "mere trout
fly" had been measured at seventy-eight feet. He was called the "finest
'a Philadelphia Public Ledger, April 10, 1883; New York Tribune, April 10, 1883;
Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 15, 1883; New York Times, April 11, 1883;
Howe, op. cit., 245; Alfred Jackson Hanna, Fort Maitland: Its Origin and History
(Maitland, 1936), 19-20.
Ia Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 17, 1883; New York Times, April 11, 1883;
"The Drainage of the Everglades," Harper's Magazine, LXVIII (March, 1884), 601.
17 Philadelphia Public Ledger, April 11, 1883.
is St. Louis Post-Dispatch, April 12, 1883.
IOE M. RICHARDSON
amateur caster in the world." The fishing proved to be excellent. On Tuesday
morning the President caught a ten pound bass the first time he cast a fly.
All present agreed that the insects were not annoying and the weather was
superb, though Arthur did blister his face "till he scarce could touch it. .."
The rest of the party spent more time shooting alligators than fishing.1"
Later in the day Arthur went to Fort Gardiner, on the Kissimmee River,
where he met Tom Tigertail a sub-chief of the Seminoles. Tigertail was
accompanied by his mother, two wives and a child. Tigertail was, according
to observers, "extremely dignified" despite his costume of a gray bandana
tied around his head with feathers in its fold, another handkerchief around
his neck, a calico shirt which he wore outside his trousers under a waistcoat,
and moccasins. After solemnly shaking hands the Indian chief eagerly
accepted a cigar from the White Chief which he lighted with a cigar he
snatched from the President's mouth. Arthur gave the child, who was
strapped to the back of its mother in a "gaily decorated case," a quarter,
and Chandler gave Tigertail his pocket knife.0o The Seminoles promised
Arthur a special tribal dance if he would journey as far South as Lake
Okeechobee, but Arthur was content to stop sooner. He had penetrated the
wilderness to a point within sixty miles of the Lake and the public was told
"he had reached the end of civilization." "White civilization" ended there,
a reporter wrote, "the lower part of the State being in possession of a cow-boy
race known as Crackers, who herd cattle exclusively over the prairie lands,
and of a remnant of a race of Seminole Indians who hunt, fish and raise
crops in the Everglades." After leaving Tigertail, Arthur continued to fish,
catching 16 weighing 100 pounds.21
Soon Arthur had enough fishing and on Wednesday, April 11, returned
to Sanford badly sunburned but in good health. There was to be an informal
reception for the President Thursday evening but he abandoned his intentions
because of rivalry arising between leading citizens as to who should make the
introductions.a2 Though he was not eager to leave Sanford, Arthur embarked
as Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 17, 1883; Philadelphia Public Ledger, April
12, 1883; New York Times, April 12, 1883.
so Ibid., Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 14, 1883; William E. Chandler Diary,
April 10, 1883.
21 Alfred Jackson Hanna and Kathryn Abbey Hanna, Lake Okeechobee: Wellspring of
the Everglades (New York, 1948), 173-74; New York Tribune, April 10, 1883; New
York Times, April 12, 1883.
22 New York Times, April 14, 1883.
April 13, for the "quaint old town" of St. Augustine by way of Jacksonville
where he was greeted by a reception committee headed by General Fred Dent,
brother-in-law of ex-President Ulysses S. Grant.23 The next morning the
President was welcomed in St. Augustine by a wind and rain storm, but by
noon the weather was fine and he amused himself by wandering alone on
foot about town. Sunday evening Arthur, in company with Secretary Chandler
and three ladies, attended a Negro Methodist Church where the choir and
congregation sang for more than an hour for him.,2
Monday and Tuesday the Chief Magistrate entertained himself fishing
and roaming around town, and early Wednesday, declining an invitation of
Governor William D. Bloxham to visit the Capital at Tallahassee, boarded
the Tallapossa for Savannah.25
President Arthur arrived in Washington April 22 reportedly more ill
than when the recuperative trip began. While in Savannah he had been seized
by "a congestive chill." However, upon arrival in Washington, Arthur
asserted that he had never felt better in his life, and to observers he appeared
tanned and healthy.: The President's biographer stated that Arthur never
recovered from this illness which has led many to assume that he contracted
an illness on the trip which led eventually to his death November 18, 1886.27
In reality Arthur already had the beginnings of Bright's disease, which
caused him to have the shortest life span, fifty-six years, of any president
to that time, except James K. Polk who died at fifty-three.-8. Chandler
claimed the illness was caused by a long ride in the sun and believed the
President had been "greatly benefited by his excursion," and had "visibly
gained in health and vigor."20
Arthur and Chandler both returned from Florida with fond remem-
brances of the State and faith in her future. Chandler found the land
higher and vastly more fertile than he expected and thought there would be
as Ibid., April 15, 1883.
24 Ibid., April 17, 1883; Nation, XXXVI (April 19, 1883), 332; William E. Chandler
Diary, April 15, 1883.
ss William E. Chandler Diary, April 18, 1883; New York Tribune, April 19, 1883; New
York Times, April 17, 1883; Philadelphia Public Ledger, April 19, 1883.
2a Nation, XXXVI (April 26, 1883), 354; New York Tribune, April 20, 1883; Phila-
delphia Public Ledger, April 21, 1883; Howe, op. cit., 246.
27 Howe, op. cit., 246, 286.
s2 Furman, op. cit., 237.
ao New York Tribune, April 23, 1883.
JOE M. RICHARDSON
profit in excessive sugar growing. The forests and orange-grove lands were
of great value, he said, while the winter visitors swarmed at every available
resort. Towns were springing up where a few years ago there had been none,
and he thought much of the land could be redeemed by draining the
swamps.30 Generally Floridians returned Arthur and Chandler's friendly
sentiments though some of the Democratic newspapers were bitter. Chandler,
of unsavory fame as a lobbyist, but who had come to be considered the
ablest man in Arthur's cabinet was subjected to the most severe attacks.3
Florida Democrats were not unified during this period. They were held
together only by white supremacy, and some Democrats saw the Arthur-
Chandler trip as an attempt to coalesce Democratic bolterss" with Repub-
licans.32 The Tallahassee Weekly Floridian shrilly warned Democratic bolters
against falling for any plans proposed by Chandler. "Patriotism is represented
by the organized Democratic Party of today," the editor wrote, "and who
is traitorous to that is treasonable to his country, for on the maintenance of
its principle depends the perpetuity of Republican institutions."33 Further-
more, Democrats remembered that Chandler had come to Florida when the
election had been disputed in 1876 and suggested that he was in Florida in
1883 because he thought that in 1884 "the vote may again be so close that
his arch manipulation will enable a repetition of the grand larceny of
Apparently neither Chandler nor Arthur was much concerned with
politics while in Florida. Arthur was ill, decided to vacation in Florida, and
despite minor outbursts of irritability the trip was a huge success. As the
New York Times said when discussing the "state of great excitement" of the
"excessively virtuous small fry of the Democratic press" over Arthur's trip,
the President was "entitled to a reasonable amount of relaxation and to
judge for himself when and how to take it."35 Arthur, because of its reputa-
tion for climate, healthiness, and fishing, selected Florida. Politics were
so Ibid., Jacksonville Florida Times-Union, April 17, 1883.
at Ward Thoron, ed., The Letters of Mrs. Henry Adams 1865-1883 (Boston, 1937), 436.
a3 Kathryn Abbey Hanna, Florida Land of Change (2nd ed. rev., Chapel Hill, 1948), 325.
aa Tallahassee Weekly Floridian, April 10, 1883.
14 Ibid., April 10, 17, 24, 1883.
a New York Times, April 6, 1883.
This Page Blank in Original
The Florida Seminoles in 1847
Edited by JAMES W. COVINGTON
By 1847 the Seminole Indians had recovered to some extent from the
effects of the long and bloody Second Seminole War (1835-1842). During
the course of this conflict, nearly three thousand Indians had been taken
from the lowlands and forests of Florida and carried to the Ozark foothills
of distant Indian Territory. When officials of the United States Government
discovered that it was virtually impossible to remove all of the Indians
from the peninsula, President John Tyler declared the war at an end on May
10, 1842, and the Seminoles were assigned to what might be called a tem-
Most of the Indians were within the bounds of the reserve when the
fighting ceased but some others travelled as much as two hundred miles
southward to the two and one half million acre reserve situated west and
south of Lake Istokpoga, and west of a line running from the mouth of the
Kissimmee River through the Everglades to the Shark River and thence
along the Gulf Coast to the Peace River. In order to prevent contacts between
the Cuban fishermen and the Indians, the numerous coastal islands were
not included as part of the reserve.
In theory, a long and unbroken period of peace should have come to
Florida but there were several factors which made such a possibility most
difficult to attain: first, the Pact of 1842 was recognized by the national and
territorial governments as being temporary in nature; second, the land hungry
frontier residents regarded the Seminoles as endangering their chances of
gaining prosperity and third, the Indians, having been hoodwinked so many
times in the past, would not consent to any serious negotiations regarding
removal or other matters.
Several administrators hoped to establish a friendly relationship with
certain Indian leaders which might develop and lead to the removal of the
tribe but, the Seminoles regarded any overtures as attempts to "entrap them
without their consent" and ship them to the West. Communication between
the races became entirely difficult and, try as they would, the Whites could
not penetrate the protective shell of distrust maintained by the Red people.
Despite such deep seated tensions, various units of the United States Army
were transferred to other parts of the country where they could be of better
use and, by 1846, only Fort Brooke (Tampa) and Fort Marion (St.
Augustine) were occupied.
In order to preserve the temporary reserve from encroachment by
settlers, President James Polk on May 19, 1845, set aside a strip of land
twenty miles wide situated above the Indian tract which would be closed to
settlement. Nevertheless, part of this land near Charlotte Harbor was sur-
veyed by John Jackson and John Irvin and some forty families moved
within its limits. Although the Commissioner-General of the Land Office
declared that such occupation of land was illegal and that his former
employee in charge of the Florida Land Office was incompetent, the United
States Marshal was not requested to remove the trespassers.
By 1847, Captain John T. Sprague United States Army was serving as
the Federal Officer in charge of Indian Affairs in Florida. He was a capable
person who understood the Indian character perhaps as well as any of the
military men who had seen duty along the frontier. Sprague's duties at this
time were concerned with the luring of the Seminoles from Florida and
arranging transport for them to Indian Territory. Captain Sprague served in
Florida during the Second Seminole War and, as a result of his experiences,
published in 1848, The Origin, Progress and Conclusion of the Florida War:
a volume which is regarded as the best account of the conflict.
On January 8, 1847, Captain Sprague conferred with several Seminole
leaders at Charlotte Harbor regarding a possible Indian raid upon a farm
and his account concerning the Indians and their way of life at that time is
an interesting document. In this dispatch which was sent to the military
authorities at Washington and the Florida governor the good captain tells
about the caution and suspicion of the Indians, population, leadership and
habits. Other interesting facts including a tale of possible intrigue with the
Seminoles by the English are found in the narrative. In all, it is a worthwhile
account of Seminole life.
Kennedy's Trading House1
Charlotte Harbour (sic), Indian Nation
Head of Pine Key, Main land, Fla.
January 11, 1847
I have the honor to report that I met the Indians as anticipated at this
place on the 8th instant. The chiefs Holatter Micco (Billy Bowlegs) and
JAMES W. COVINGTON
Assinwar,2 Echo-emathlar-Chopco,3 Chitto Hadjo,i Nub-cup-Hadjo, Subchiefs
together with thirty four young warriors, well armed without women and
children were present. I was disappointed in not meeting Arpeika or Sam
Jones who sent a messenger stating that from age, indisposition and the
extreme cold weather, he was unable to travel. My insisting upon seeing him
tended to disparge the position and power of Holalter Micco who, in all
respects, is qualified for supreme command which he exercises with skill
and judgement.5 He is about thirty five years of age, speaks English fluently,
active, intelligent and brave.e Arpeika is ninety two years of age; without
warriors, authority or influence.7 These chiefs and their followers express
the strongest friendship and have adopted vigorous laws to punish those who
violate the relation existing between the whites and red men but the young
men, long accustomed to hunt the whites as they now do deer and turkeys,
are ruthless, vicious and vengeful. To counteract this, I have enjoined the
necessity of prompt and severe punishment and shall see that they are
executed. The Indians are timid and cautious. They came into my camp
prepared to receive kindness and extend it, evidently determined to avenge on
the spot any manifestation of a contrary feeling. Ten days elapsed before
I succeeded in obtaining an interview with the chiefs who were deterred by
the young warriors who, less credulous than the older ones, induced them
to procrastinate until they reconnoitred the country as well as the coast. First
a boy came, then a man departed, both to hear what I had to say. I de-
manded the promise of all or I should at once leave the country and they
must be prepared for the consequences. This had the desired effect. Their
scouts were extended ten miles around to announce the approach of soldiers,
I Thomas Pugh Kennedy had operated a sutler's store at Fort Brooke and at the con-
clusion of the war, made trips to Central and South America in a schooner. It is
difficult to determine when the Charlotte Harbor trading house was erected, but
some time between 1842 and 1847 would be a fair estimate. The building was burned
by 1848 and today the site is known as Burnt Store. In 1848 Kennedy and John
Darling established a store on the banks of Payne's Creek. The site is located south
of present day Bowling Green and some distance from the first site but it suffered
the same fate as the other one in 1849.
s Assinwar was a father-in-law of Billy Bowlegs and a leading figure in his band.
3 Chipco was principal leader of the Tallahassee Band.
SChitto Hadjo was a nephew of Ismahtee, leader of the boat party Indians.
s This statement illustrates the method by which the Whites attempted to control Indian
a For an account of this leader see Carolyn T. Foreman, "Billy Bowlegs," Chronicles
of Oklahoma XXXIII (Winter, 1955), 512-522.
SIn 1853, it was reported that twenty-six warriors were included within the band led
by Sam Jones, The Florida News (Jacksonville), August 27, 1853. This newspaper
article is the best account available of the male Seminole population and gives in
detail family background facts concerning each male and band affiliation.
believing it to be my determination to surround them as they had been
informed, vessels were on the coast for that purpose with troops.
However friendly disposed, the difficulties can at once be perceived of
in enforcing upon such minds the necessity or policy of immediate emigra-
tion. To satisfy them of the integrity and sincerity of the Government in
improving their condition and the necessity on their part of acting in good
faith and cherishing a proper spirit towards the whites, was all important.
The chiefs being treated with distinction and others with kindness and
forbearance has this tendency lulling their fears when at the proper time,
emigration may be effected with promptness without renewal of hostilities.
The Indians increase in number as well as improve in condition owing
to partial intercourse with civilization. Their scattered condition, isolated
camps and limited number, constitute their strength. One hundred and
twenty men are capable of taking the field viz:
Total 120 warriors
From observation and inquiry, I find seventy of this number grown
from boyhood to manhood since December 1835, the commencement of the
s According to Sprague's classification, the Seminoles were the Mikasuki (Hitchiti)
speaking persons found within Billy Bowlegs' band.
9 The Mickasukies were the Mikasuki (Hitchiti) speaking persons in the bands
within the jurisdiction of Sam Jones.
1o The Creeks were members of Chipco's band and spoke Muskogee. "Of course, the
Muskogee and Mikasuki dialects were related but not mutually intelligible." John
M. Goggin "Source Materials for the Study of the Florida Seminole Indians," Labora-
tory Notes: 3. Gainesville, Florida. Since it was the practice for the married Seminole
male to live at the camp of his in-laws, there was some mixture of the Mikasuki and
n The Yuchi had joined the Seminole at various periods during the Eighteenth and
Nineteen Centuries. One town of Yuchi was situated at Spring Garden in Volusia
County. John R. Swanton, The Indian Tribes of North America Smithsonian Institute
Bureau of American Ethnology, Bulletin 145 (Washington, 1952), 119.
12 It is difficult to believe that the Choctaws were living in Southern Florida at this
time but other persons had indicated that the Choctaws were in Florida. A Florida
Choctaw has written an account of this tribe: Horace Ridaught, Hell's Branch Office.
(Citra, Florida, 1957).
JAMES W. COVINGTON
Florida War. The remainder excepting Sam Jones and Assinwar, the
former, ninety-two and latter, sixty, are not over forty years of age. The
women and children average about two to a man making two hundred and
fifty, of this number, one hundred and fifty are children, thus making the
total of Indians in Florida.
The game of the country, climate and natural productions places them
above sympathy or charity, every necessary want is supplied. Deer skins
are the principal articles of clothing and trade for which powder and
lead are obtained.13 Corn, pumpkins, potatoes, beans and peas are raised
fresh and dried. Venison, turkeys and sea fowl, fish and oysters in abundance
assure an independence the year round.
It being desirable from many cogent reasons that these remnants of
tribes should join their respective bands in Arkansas. The first step to
effect it is to obtain their most unqualified and unlimited confidence. This
is not easily done after a sanguinary contest of six years. Success in this
gives a security to citizens at the same time disowning and refuting the
infamous falsehoods insidiously circulated keeping alive a most pernicious
and vengeful spirit of retaliation. Prudence, vigilance, a knowledge of their
wants and habits, a solicitude in their welfare and vindication of their rights,
will go far to attain this and maintain the present amicable relations. As
credulous as these Indians are, these measures are easily thwarted. Under the
most sacred injunctions of seentcy (sic) the chiefs will talk of emigration,
some of the younger class will listen to them. Publicity would cause instant
punishment in accordance with the resolve in council so long entertained,
that those who listened to a promoted emigration should suffer death. Secret
influences will find their way among the most resolute who will yield to
the advice and opinion of chiefs and sub-chiefs.
Two years ago emigration could not be alluded to privately or publicly
without general dissatisfaction. Now, it becomes a subject of conversation.
a1 In 1846, the Indians made frequent trips to Tampa and were given a barracks room
at Fort Brooke to serve as headquarters for their stay. George Ballentine Auto-
biography of an English soldier in the United States Army (New York, 1853) 105.
One hostile act or that which remotely has the appearance of it, destroys
all confidence, peace or the hope of emigration, bidding fair to renew a
Florida War more obstinate and enduring than the contest already termi-
nated. To prevent entirely the enroads of whites on so extended a frontier
by land and by water is impossible. To expel and punish intruders at the
same time adopting judicious means to counteract the efforts of the profli-
gate, the timid and alarmists, gives confidence and disarms the Indians of
causes of complaint, acrimony and revenge.
The Seminoles are treacherous from instinct and habits. The fulfilment
of promises and talks depends very much upon the benefits which are to
result. Their cupidity is insatiable, self governs all their acts and that
sentiment which redeems the savage-rationality is absorbed in avarice,
individual comfort and gain. This now insures peace and rewards at the
proper time will effect emigration.
I have not met so depraved, so cunning a race of Indians, so cruel,
distrustful and superstitious. Human life even among themselves is dis-
regarded and they roam through their country untamed, obeying their
chiefs as instinct or intuition dictates. This must be met with firmness. A few
punishments through the means of councils and chiefs will have the desired
effect. The long absence of the wholesome restraint and the community of
feeling arising from the influence of peace and association have caused an
abandoned, wayward, and independent course of life.
Peace is the first consideration, emigration the second, to affect the
latter the first must be second. This can be done by authority over the chiefs
requiring them to make and execute severely all laws with justice and
promptness. The borderers must at the same time be reminded by vigilence
and attention that encroachments will be punished whether in crossing the
boundary or in fabricating malicious and idle tales.
The Indians in future will not visit Tampa Bay but when sent for on
business; this arrangement will be adhered to. The distance to Tampa, from
ninety to one hundred and twenty miles, the liability to annoyance in going
to and from renders the established trading house the most convenient
place to sell their skins. The chiefs readily consent to visit Tampa, St.
Augustine or any other appointed place on business alone and will assemble
their bands at any desirable point at a favorable season of the year provided
JAMES W. COVINGTON
I can come with but six soldiers and three tents. This precaution is to avoid
the possibility of surprise and capture.
I have proposed to the chiefs to visit Washington City and Arkansas.
The policy of this can be well understood without explanation here. They
desire time to answer as the subject is submitted to a general council. When
a messenger is to be sent that I may meet the chiefs in the nation they
should acquiesce. I desire authority to take them to the places named and
by such means practicable impress the advantages of annuities and presents
distributed periodically to their various bands in Arkansas; at the same time
made known the number and power of the white men. At the present
moment this is questionable. Spaniards, fishing upon the coast, have informed
them that our troops in Texas have been whipped and driven home by the
Mexicans and Indians." From this I proceed to St. Augustine taking on the
route the settlements. My recent interview with the Indians will have a
tendency to allay an excitement and apprehension so necessary in all
respects to the Government, to the citizens of the State and to the Indians.
I have communicated freely and fully with Captain Winder,15 commanding
Fort Brooke asking for the Indians, should any visit his Post, kindness and
attention. At the same time representing the necessity of vigilance to thwart
the designs of those loungers upon the border too lazy to work or steal
but abandoned enough to thrive upon the honest gains of others whom they
hope to defraud by tracks, signs and hostilities; thus securing to themselves
the plunder and probable good luck of being mustered into service at a few
dollars per month.
In continuation of this report and pertinent to the subject, I would
remark briefly that at the present time I consider the peninsula of Florida
of interest and importance. Its extended Coast, its numerous inlets, harbour,
and Keys, its Swamps and Hammocks, its bordering slave holding states, the
character of the Indians inhabiting it (few but sufficient) the sparceness
of white population. Its proximity to the Colonies of a Nation with a force
congenial in habits and colour to the Seminoles, renders it of vital interest.
Where may [be] scattered the seeds of insurrection, which by slight cultiva-
tion will extend with renewed vigour and growth into surrounding states.
11 For an account of the Cuban fishing activities see James W. Covington, "Trade Re-
lations between Southwestern Florida and Cuba, 1600-1840," Florida Historical
Quarterly XXXVIII (October, 1959), 114-128.
is During the Civil War John A. Winder served as commander of Andersonville Prison.
It is two hundred and sixty miles from Key Biscayne to Nassau, N. P. where
is stationed two regiments of black troops. The harbour at this key admits
of a draft of water from eight to nine feet, from thence the interior is
gained with facility by land or in boats. The negroes at large in the state
(common report makes the number thirty) subsist upon the spontaneous
productions of the soil. The Indians are inclined to harbor and protect
them.1L I have denounced this in every way and at all times, offering the
Indians rewards if they would bring the vagrants to any post or town and
threatened severe punishments to those who gave them subsistence or pro-
Holatter Micco (Billy Bowlegs) informs me that at Charlotte Harbor,
in November last he met two white men who landed from a small boat
accompanied by four sailors to row. They had in their hands paper and
pencil and a compass. Their vessel, they said, was outside at sea. These men
informed him that two officers of the United States Army had joined the
English who were participating with the Mexicans and Indians in driving the
American soldiers out of Mexico. This he told me that I might explain it as
the statement was crude and unsatisfactory to him as his narration and
particulars were to me. What he states, I am convinced is true, which to
my mind in common with many trifling circumstances coming to my
knowledge in association with fishermen, Spaniards, Indians and Americans
on the coast keys, is shadowing forth of coming events.
This chief has been since the commencement of the Florida War a bold,
resolute and unyielding leader. [He is] ambitious, and cunning, remarkably
intelligent, speaking English with facility. His excessive vanity excites these
qualities, priding himself upon his power as a chief and to maintance (sic) of
that supremacy belonging to and acended to his ancestors. His mother was
the sister of King Payne and old Bowlegs (Seminoles), who, up to the year
1815, commanded the Indians in Florida well known to all whites for intelli-
gence and bravery." With these peculiar qualifications and undisputed
authority exercised in Florida with an auxiliary force or alone, this Indian
would he a most formidable foe. As a friend cherished by that which
is In the editor's research concerning the Billy Bowlegs or Third Seminole War (1885-
1858), he was unable to find evidence of runaway slaves among the Seminoles at that
time. Perhaps one or two were seen by the soldiers but no more than that number.
17 The Seminole "royal family blood line" has been traced in Kenneth W. Porter's
"The Cowkeeper Dynasty of the Scminole Nation," Florida Historical Quarterly XXX
(April, 1952), 341-349.
JAMES W. COVINGTON
would contribute to his vanity, power, and independence, he could be
relied upon to expel the intruders of whatever nation and become a faithful
ally to those who secure his confidence and regard. I have endeavored to
obtain this so far as in my power, proper measures can cherish and perfect
it and this chief who, with sufficient inducement, be an active enemy no
matter from whose hands received, can be made a friend and faithful friend
of the Government.
With this view of the subject matured by personal observation, enquiry
and acquaintance with the remnant of Indians inhabiting the State, as well
with the country and coast. I am persuaded timely measures will effect
much in counteracting influences and evils calculated to result in most
serious and perplexing difficulties.
The first step in my judgment is to obtain beyond the influence and
friendship of Holatter Mieco. He should see our numbers and the power
of the country, visit Arkansas with the hope he might with his band emigrate
to avoid collusions, then add to his authority and position, by making him
independent in means, thus securing control over the Seminole Nation,
should he emigrate; if not the subjection and organization of the number
in Florida would aid very materially in the defense of the frontiers of the
State by land and by water. These considerations have induced me to invite
him and his sub-chiefs to visit Washington City and Arkansas, understanding
that I must first obtain authority.
To Gen. Jones
Washington, D. C.
I have the honor to be very
respectfully your obt. servant
J. T. Sprague"
Capt., U. S. Army
In charge of Indian Affairs, Florida
as Sprague to Adj.-General Jones, January 11, 1847, S26, Seminole Agency, 1846-1855,
Records of Office of Indian Affairs, National Archives. In the original letter signed
by Sprague, the date 1846 is given but someone in pencil has crossed through 1846
and written 1847. From evidence concerning the Mexican War given in the letter,
1847 should be the correct date when the letter was written.
This Page Blank in Original
North to South
Through the Everglades in 1883
Edited by MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
Sunday, January 6, 1884 Editorial in The Times-Democrat
THE FLORIDA EVERGLADES
We publish elsewhere a full account of THE TIMES-DEMOCRAT'S
expedition into the Florida Everglades. The story covers several columns,
but is told in as brief and condensed a manner as possible, considering the
many features of the trip, the innumerable incidents and the important
problems investigated and solved.
The expedition was planned many months ago, and ample time given
for its preparation. It may be said to have grown out of a former expedition
sent out by THE TIMES-DEMOCRAT under the command of Major A. P.
Williams, and which explored the Caloosahatchie and Kissimmee rivers, and
attracted much attention toward Southern Florida its picturesqueness, its
climate and the possibilities of its soil. The articles in THE TIMES-
DEMOCRAT interested the whole country in Florida, and a general desire
was felt to know more about the country and particularly about the
It was discovered that in this country, in a State which can boast of
being the first colonized of any portion of the Union, there existed a region,
of which less was actually known than of the interior of Africa.
The best authority on the subject of the Everglades has been considered
to be the report made by a committee of the United States Senate in 1848.
The question of the drainage of the Everglades being submitted to the Senate
committee on public lands, an exploration of this region was attempted. This
*Part I appeared in Tequesta XXIII (1963).
exploration was a failure. Mr. George Mackay, United States surveyor,
reported to the committee: "Very little can be known of the North Glades.
They are uniformly saw-grass, and it is impossible to penetrate them with
canoes in high water, and in low water they are so generally boggy that it
is impossible to explore them on foot."
Lieut. Francis Marion, in company with Mr. Buckingham Smith,
attempted to explore them in 1847. He says: "It was my desire to reach the
northern end of the glades and the region of Lake Okeechobee on this expe-
dition, and to examine the islands above New River, but I found I could
not without great delay and trouble, and therefore abandoned it."
In no wise daunted by the many failures, THE TIMES-DEMOCRAT
decided to make a full and thorough examination of this region, and solve
the many important problems regarding the Everglades. The expedition
was not one merely of adventure; it was designed for useful and practical
It was desired to find the character of the immense region of Southern
Florida, known as the Everglades, covering millions of acres, to discover the
quality of its soil, and to what crops and purposes it was best suited.
To test the possibility of draining this immense region, and thus
giving millions of acres to cultivation.
To discover the condition and manner life of the Indians who have
sought refuge there.
And finally, at the request of the Western Union Company, to test
the practicability of constructing a telegraph line down the peninsula.
All the arrangements for the expedition were perfected, boats built for
it, laborers secured and every preparation made; but as we have already
described all these, we need not dwell on them further, nor need we follow
up the preliminary movements of the party to Cedar Keys, Punta Rassa and
up the Caloosahatchie River to Lake Okeechobee. All this has been told
in former letters. This morning we give the eventful portion of the expedi-
tion, the story of its march from the Lake through the swamps, the saw-
grass and the glades to the Gulf.
MARY K. WINTR1NGHAM
The present story commences with Nov. 4, when the expedition had
reached the great central lake of Florida, Okeechobee. This lake was found
to be shallow, but subject to very tempestuous and stormy weather, during
which its waves became as threatening as those of the Gulf, and with its
shores low and swampy and only here and there any dry spots. Game and
fish were both very scarce, but alligators were superabundant.
It had been determined that the expedition should proceed due south.
It made, therefore, for the extreme southern point of Lake Okeechobee. A gale
in the lake, in which the small boats and canoes were of little use, detained
the party for several days, but on Nov. 6 and 7 they continued their journey
southward along the shores of Okeechobee, discovering a number of islands
and several small rivers emptying in the lake. These were explored in the
hope that they would take the party some distance into the Everglades, but
after following their course a short distance this idea had to be abandoned.
After several failures a stream, to which the name of T.-D., in honor of THE
TIMES-DEMOCRAT, was given, was found somewhat larger than the others,
and it was determined to ascent it as far as possible, and from its source
to start into the swamp.
On the morning of Nov. 10 the party found itself on the borders of
the Everglades, confronted by a barrier of boughs, bushes and vines inter-
twined, through which it was necessary to cut their way. All the arrange-
ments were now made for the journey. Each boat was loaded with its own
provisions, so that, should they by any chance become separated there would
be no danger of starvation. The axes and machetes, or knives, were then
brought into play and the work of cutting through the barrier of willows
and brushwood began. It was slow, tedious work, and after a day of earnest
labor it was found that the party had moved forward only a quarter of a
When this thicket of willows was finally cut through, by much arduous
work, the party were brought face to face with the saw-grass, which had
frightened back the United States engineers and officers who tried to explore
this region in 1847, and who declared that it could not be done either on
foot or in boats. In all directions, as far as the eye could reach, was one
unlimited expanse of tall, waving marsh-grass, with not a tree or bush rising
above it. Marks were found that indicated that the water had been five feet
deep here, but at that time it was only five inches. To haul a lot of canoes
and batteaux in water from three to five inches through a grass like this
seemed an impossible task, and for a time failure stared the expedition in
the face, but Major Williams soon hit upon the happy idea of burning
away the saw-grass ahead of him. This fortunately was easy, for the grass
was dry and burned like tinder to the water's edge. A party was sent ahead
and fired the swamp. In a few minutes the whole region of saw-grass, for
ten and tens of miles, was one mass of seething flames. This was the fire
that so alarmed the friends of the expedition, and gave rise to the belief
that it had perished in the flames.
Following the pillar of smoke before them, the party marched boldly
into the saw-grass. It was slow work here. The fire left the roots of the
grass behind, and the men had to desert their boats and slowly push them
forward through the mud and grass. In one day, moving in this way, they
proceeded barely a mile, with the men wearied and broken down by the
arduous work. Their life was certainly rough and hard for the next few
weeks. There was not sufficient water to float the boats, and they had to
be pushed along by the men, who traveled slowly, sinking above their
knees in the mud. At night they slept cuddled up in the boats the victims of
millions of mosquitoes and other stinging insects. The fires which they
cooked their meals had to be made in pots on the decks of their canoes.
When rain came they were without protection from it, and morning, noon
and night they were wet. They were doomed to disappointment in a serious
matter. They had imagined that this saw-grass region was only ten miles
wide, and that in a week, or at least ten days, they would be in deeper water.
But at the end of ten days the character of the country was completely
unchanged. It was the same desolate saw-grass desert. They found the
country utterly devoid of game of any kind, A deathlike oppressive stillness
prevailed everywhere. There were no fish in the water, no birds in the air;
even the air itself seemed to be without life or motion.
The situation of the men grew worse day by day. They had to toil
onward, waist deep, in the mud and water; with leeches clinging to their
legs until the water around them was dyed a deep red; with thousands of
bugs pestering and bothering them; with prickly plants to bruise and poison
them, and with the water alive with moccasins. Rest at night, cuddled up in
the canoes, was scarcely pleasant, for the moccasins had a way of crawling
into the boats to get warm and comfortable. It was thought for a big day's
journey to travel a mile and a half in twenty-four hours.
The grass was burnt up ahead of them, and in this way they were able
to move somewhat faster. But as they moved onward they found the grass
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
too wet to burn, so that they were compelled to cut and break through it.
As they proceeded further the water got deeper, until it was possible to float
the boats. Still there was no sign as far as the eye could reach of anything
but the same unbroken level plain of grass. When the grass was fired one
day to clear it off, the party was surprised to see signals of smoke replying
to it from all quarters. It was the work of the Indians, the remnant of the
great tribe of the Seminoles, who sought refuge in the swamps of Southern
Florida. Throughout the remainder of the journey the party found them-
selves, wherever they went, surrounded by scores of these signals. It was
evident that they were well watched by the Indians. How near the latter
came to them they never knew, for they met none of them, saw nothing
but these Indian fires springing up around them whenever they camped out.
On Nov. 22 the water in the swamp became suddenly much deeper,
the boats moved easily through it and it was found that the sails could be
used with great advantage. It was now decidedly a new country. The broad
expanse of saw-grass was broken by basins or little lakes, fifteen feet deep
or more, covered with water lilies and connected with each other by
innumerable streams. The ponds or basins were of water as clear as crystal,
and filled with trout and alligators, the latter utterly fearless and im-
pudently poking their noses into the boats.
On the 23d the provision batteau, Queen Anne, had to be abandoned
in the swamp, as her bottom was completely worn out from dragging over
the grass and she leaked badly. Next day the party found the first piece
of dry land they had seen since they left Okeechobee, a very small plot of
only a few feet, but the expedition, hungry for land, greeted it as warmly as
Noah did the summit of Ararat as it raised itself out of the water. It was
thought best that Capt. Hendry should be sent due west so as to reach the
coast sooner, and make the needful preparations to send boats up Shark's
River to meet the expedition. The character of the country now improved
with every day's journey. The water was deeper and the boats moved more
easily. In making soundings it was discovered that the bottom was no longer
mud but rock, the first that had been met with. The party were evidently
approaching the islands lying in the southern portion of the Everglades.
The first island they found was about three acres in extent, well covered with
wild fig and orchard apple, but only about twenty feet square of it was solid
dry land. Here the party rested and recuperated, for they were completely
fagged out, ragged, barefooted and broken down. This island upon which
they rested proved to be a bird roost, for at night the trees were filled with
cranes, curlews, water turkeys, blackbirds and other varieties never seen
before, which kept up such a noise all night that it was difficult to sleep.
For several days the party moved through a region of islands. Islands there
were innumerable, but all of them very small, not over three acres in extent,
with very little high and dry land on them, and separated from each other
by streams and saw-grass. On several of them traces of Indian camps were
discovered, but the Indians never put in their appearance, although whenever
the expedition made a fire it was answered in every direction.
They were now on the lookout for the smoke signal which was to direct
them toward Shark's River. It had been arranged that Major Hendry, who
had taken a short cut to the Gulf, was to send a party up Sharks River to
meet Major Williams' party, the signal to be a column of smoke. So well
had the movement of the explorers been calculated that when the smoke was
finally discovered, they were but two miles from Sharks River.
The rest of the journey can be told in a very few words, because it was
simple and easy-the descent of Sharks River into White Water Bay, and
thence into the Gulf.
Such are the main features of this expedition. For a full and exhaustive
account of the trip we refer our readers to Major Williams' letters given in
another column. It will be seen that the task was an arduous and severe one,
much harder than was imagined when it was inaugurated.
It has set at rest all questions about the Everglades, which have been
found much different from what was imagined. The saw-grass extends 100
miles south of Lake Okeechobee, instead of ten. South of this is a region of
islands, but islands so small as to be of little value for any practical pur-
poses. The Indians who were supposed to live in the Everglades, do reside
there, but they seem to be peaceful and well-disposed, and gave no evidence
that they were unfriendly or inimical to the whites.
As to the question of building a telegraph line through this country-
a matter which the Western Union has been anxious to solve-Major Wil-
liams reports that this is impossible and not to be thought of.
Finally, as to the soil and character of the Everglades and the possi-
bility of draining them. In 1848, when the United States Senate investigated
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
this question, a committee reported that the swamp could be drained. Major
Williams reports adversely. He can see no hope or possibility of redeeming
the greater portion of this region, which must remain a swamp forever. The
country is very low, in most cases below the level of the land fronting on
the Atlantic and the Gulf, and a canal will not drain it, but will probably
increase the depth of water in the glades. In the Southern glades many of
the islands can be utilized and cultivated, but with this exception, the Florida
Everglades are of no value agriculturally. We regret to learn this, but it is
better that it should have been brought out now, instead of the world being
encouraged into the mistaken belief that the Everglades could be redeemed.
Such is the story of our expedition. It has accomplished all it was
organized to do. It was the first party of white men to go through the
Everglades, and it has solved all the problems of that mysterious region.
(Sunday, January 6, 1884. Page 6 and 7 of The Times-Democrat)
Detailed Report of The Times-Democrat Exploring Party.
Seeking an Entrance Through the Willows Bordering Lake Okeechobee.
In the Saw-Grass Country-A Wilderness of Desolation.
Twenty Days' March Through the Swamp-Neither Land Nor Water.
In the Glades Proper, with Thousands of Streams and Innumerable Islands.
Indian Camp Fires Surrounding the Expedition on Every Side.
THE HEADWATERS OF SHARKS RIVER.
An Easy Voyage Down That Stream to the Gulf.
The Entire Region Uninhabitable and Irreclaimable.
The Times-Democrat gives below a detailed report of its expedition
through the Florida Everglades from the time the exploring party left the
southern shore of Lake Okeechobee and entered the saw-grass to its arrival,
through Sharks River, on White Water Bay, at the southern point of Florida,
after passing through the center of the hitherto unexplored and mysterious
Everglades. Heretofore we have published a series of letters from our corre-
spondent, Major A. P. Williams, who was in command of the expedition,
describing the start from Cedar Keys, the arrival at Punta Rassa and at Fort
Myers, the trip up the Caloosahatchie River and the voyage along the
Western Shore of Lake Okeechobee.
At 8 o'clock on the morning of Nov. 4 we take advantage of a lull in
the wind to continue our course around the shores of Lake Okeechobee.
Burke Island, so named by the captain of the steamer Bertha Lee a few
weeks previous to our present voyage, lies about three or four miles to the
eastward of us, and although it was our intention to visit this, the only island
with any amount of highland in it in this lake, we know our boats cannot
reach them in safety with the winds and waves against us. The Gulf of Mexico
never presented an angrier appearance, or waves rolling higher, than what
we have experienced and seen for the last three days upon the waters of Lake
Okeechobee, an inland sea about fifty miles in length and breadth, with
nothing to break the force of the wind or waves until the water-covered
swamps of the Everglades, which form its shores, are reached.
The water is too shallow near the shore for the larger boats, so we are
compelled to stand out from shore about half a mile, while the smaller boats
and batteaux keep in the grassy waters, which extend for about an hundred
yards into the lake around its whole margin. In an hour after our departure
from camp we find ourselves sailing
ALONG THE SOUTHERN SHORE,
peering anxiously for a spot of dry land on which we can camp and dry the
contents of our boats. After traveling about eight miles, we discern with our
glasses a white sand beach backed by quite a forest of large trees, and
immediately signal the other boats to follow, and sail for it. On reaching it
we find a high strip of land about a mile long and fifty yards wide, a
beautiful white sand beach, and in the rear a little land-locked harbor in
which our boats can lay perfectly protected from the wind. It is, indeed, a
perfect piece of good fortune to find such a resting place, and as each boat
is borne by the waves through the channel to this little bay, which lies calm,
still and quiet, quite a contrast to the war of the waves from the lake as
they dash upon the shore but a few yards off, the men give a hearty cheer.
Allen's canoe, the "Judson," capsizes in getting through the channel, losing
all our knives, forks, cups, plates, and some of the cooking utensils. Mr.
Harlander, our artist, suffers the same fate, so far as the capsizing is con-
cerned, but loses nothing. Mr. Phillips, our commissary, ships a sea, and
comes very near sharing the same fate. Both batteaux, half filled with water,
and immediately all hands are at work unloading the provisions and drying
them in the sun. As soon as the hurry and hustle of going into camp subsides,
we get our rifles, and for half an hour there is a perfect fusilade in camp,
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
each man trying to see how many alligators he can kill in a given time.
The whole surface of the water is
DOTTED WITH THESE MONSTERS
from three to ten feet and over, who perhaps for the first time have seen a
human face, for unconscious of danger, they come swimming from all
directions, never stopping until they get within a few feet of the guns.
Those that are not killed or wounded do not seem the least alarmed at the
crack of the rifles or the struggles of the wounded. Some of the dead ones
the men pull on shore, measure, and cut the teeth out, to keep in remembrance
of the occasion.
Mr. Marshall, the photographer, is quite busy all day taking photo.
graphs of the encampment (alligators included) from different points.
Our artist, Mr. Harlander, is also occupied with his pencil in sketching the
scenery. We name this beautiful little bay "Kitty Harbor," and in time,
when Lake Okeechobee shall become one of the thoroughfares of commerce,
many a vessel will find refuge from the angry waters of the lake, and here
rest in perfect security until the storm is over, should they ever be caught
as we have been.
In the evening, with a machete to cut a path through the dense under-
growth, we explore the woods growing upon this little peninsula. Here for
the first time we see
THE INDIA RUBBER TREE OF FLORIDA
in large numbers and of large size. One in particular we notice, which is
about six feet in circumference, reaching to a height of about forty feet.
Each limb, as it reaches a certain length, bends down until it reaches the
ground, when it takes root, forming an additional support to the parent
stem. We cut a gash into the tree with a machete, and immediately a fluid
resembling milk in appearance begins to pour out, and continues to do so
as long as we remain, forming a pool at the bottom of the tree. This fluid,
after being exposed to the air a short time, becomes thicker, and at the same
time assumes a dark brown color. Many cabbage palm trees are also growing
here. Button wood and a species of ash, quite new to me, also abounds.
Small scrubby cypress line the shore, and their innumerable knees, which
stick up in all directions in the water, make a landing among them in rough
weather very dangerous.
We know it is impossible to move while this gale of wind lasts. Our
camp is a pleasant one, so we make ourselves contented, spending the day
fishing, and occasionally
SHOOTING AN ALLIGATOR.
We see no ducks or game of any kind, and fish are scarce. Only a few
black bass, and numbers of cat-fish, are caught.
We are all able to sleep on dry land tonight, and enjoy our beds of
green moss gathered from the trees. Nothing happened to disturb our rest
that night. We go to bed tired and worn out, sleep soundly, and when the
sun rises on the morning of the 5th of November it finds every man still
rolled up in his blanket. The gale still continues, and after our experience
of the last two days, we dare not expose the men and boats a second time to
its fury, so decide to remain quietly where we are.
The men spend the day washing clothes, cleaning out boats, and drying
the different contents of the boats. Climbing to the top of the highest tree
we are enabled to get a view of that portion of the Everglades which we will
first encounter. Beyond the line of swamps, which extends about two miles
from the margin of the lake, a vast marsh of saw grass extends as far as the
eye can reach, unrelieved by brush or tree. We are not yet in the extreme
SOUTHERN END OF LAKE OKEECHOBEE,
the point selected as our point of departure, and are in hopes that ere we
reach that point we will discover some water-course flowing from the lake
to the Everglades, which will relieve us from the arduous labor of cutting
through the dense swamp of trees, the first obstacle we expect to encounter.
There is no change in the weather to-day. The wind blows as hard as ever,
and when we recall to mind the experience of an old hunter, as related by
himself to us a few weeks previous, who was caught in just such a gale on
the lake, and was compelled to remain three weeks on one little spot of dry
ground he was lucky enough to find, waiting for the winds to subside, it
does not add to the cheerfulness of the party.
At 3 o'clock on the morning of November 6, we awake to find the wind
subsiding and the lake comparatively smooth. No time to be lost, so the
camp is aroused and the work of cooking breakfast and packing boats is
hurried up, as we do not know whether the lull in the wind is temporary or
will continue during the day, and therefore wish to take advantage of present
bright prospects. It is daylight ere the first boats shove off from shore,
which are the two provision batteaux, which are followed soon after by the
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
others, we bringing up the rear to watch over the progress of the smaller
craft. We have not gone a quarter of a mile, ere the wind is howling around
us with redoubled force. We crowd on all sail on our little boat to overtake
our provision boats, which we know cannot live in such a sea. The last we
saw of them they were not more than a hundred yards from the shore, about
a half a mile from our last night's camp. We find them both near where we
had last seen them, pulled up on the shore, half filled with water, and every-
thing they contained wringing wet. Calling to the men in charge to unload,
dry everything and remain where they were, we hastened in the direction of
the other canoes. The first canoe we encounter is the "Burke," in charge of
J. R. Phillips, our commissary. We throw him a line and take him in tow.
We do not come up with the other boats until 12 o'clock, and find them safely
WEDGED IN THE MARSH GRASS,
where they have gone to protect themselves from the fury of the gale. We
all take lunch, and, after giving orders to return to our last night's camp,
hoist sail and start back to look after the provision boats. We arrive at camp
about 4 o'clock, and, after ordering Caesar to build fires and go to cooking,
we walk down the shore about half a mile where the provision batteaux are
laid up, see that our loss has been very little, and that everything is being
dried, after which we return and wait for the other boats. The only two boats
that do get in are the Susie B. and Page M. Baker, in command of Col.
Hopkins and Mr. Harlander. We know the others are safe, as the Whitehall
boat is with them, but it is not pleasant to be separated and scattered as we
are on this night. On the morning of the 7th of November we find the lake
calm, with hardly wind enough to fill our sails, so we take to our oars and
row along the shore, looking for our lost hosts. We find the provision
batteaux have already started, nor do we catch up with them until we come
to the camp of the remaining boats, where we find the whole crowd waiting
for us. The men tell of a rough time after we separated the day before.
Nobody lost, boats unhurt, and nothing injured, so we are perfectly satisfied
as our little fleet shoves off and, keeping all together, move slowly down the
After having traveled for twelve or fifteen miles, we come in sight of
an island lying about two miles from the main shore. Capt. Hendry, in the
sailboat Queen Anne, accompanied by the Whitehall boat, sails for the
northern end of island, while the remainder of the boats continue their
course down the shore of the lake. When we are abreast of the island, we
make an examination of the shore of the lake on the mainland, discover an
opening in the woods, which we row for, and soon find ourselves at the
mouth of a river running in
THE DIRECTION OF THE EVERGLADES.
The river at its mouth is about 100 yards wide, the depth of water being
about eight feet. To say that our little party were over-joyed would but
poorly express it. We do not go an hundred yards before we hear exclama-
tions from the members of the party in praise of the beautiful scenery which
greets the eye on every side. There is no perceptible current so far as we can
discern. The water is clear as crystal, the banks fringed with a dense tropical
growth of trees, presenting to the view a solid green wall, impenetrable to
the eye. This wall is formed by vines, which have twined around the trunks
and branches of the trees, and have interlaced and wound themselves around
each other until they form a screen which is almost sufficient to shut out the
light of day. Looking behind us we find that we are followed by innumerable
alligators, who are swimming along lazily in our wake. From all sides we
see them plunging in the water, remain under a few seconds, rise after we
pass, and join the crowd behind us. We do not go two miles before the river
begins to get narrow, and we find ourselves in a little stream only a few
yards in width, the sunlight completely shut out by the branches of trees and
vines, which have interlocked and twined around each other until a perfect
roof is formed. We can go no farther without unshipping our masts, so,
taking one of the small canoes and one man, we leave the party to clear a
camp-ground during our absence, and continue our explorations of the river,
still hoping that we have discovered an outlet to the Everglades through this
almost impenetrable swamp which surrounds us. After going half a mile, we
find we are no longer in any stream, but winding around in dark, sluggish
water, the roots and branches of the trees forming a barrier to our further
DISHEARTENED, HUNGRY AND TIRED,
we return to camp to report the bad news. As we return we examine more
closely the vines which grow so luxuriantly, and find they are a species of
gourd, with innumerable gourds hanging from them, perfectly round, and
about the size of a billiard ball. The vines run all over the trees, and on the
ground form a mat two or three feet deep.
We reach camp, take a hasty dinner, get in our canoe and go in search
of the remainder of our crowd, leaving the present crowd to arrange a com-
fortable camp ground. We meet Capt. Hendry after sailing about an hour,
who reports having also discovered a river running in the direction of the
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
Everglades, on which the other boats have gone into camp. We take the
captain on board of our boat and send his crew back, with instructions to his
part of the men to come early next morning to where we have established
camp. On our return we examine the shore thoroughly, and find two or more
rivers similar to the one we have just left, which we will explore on the
Surely among all the rivers we have already found running south we
hope to find one running into the Everglades, and so, consequently, we are
in better spirits on our return to camp. The ground is too full of snakes for
us to sleep on shore, so we wrap ourselves in our blankets, lie down in the
bottom of the canoes, and fight mosquitos all night.
On the morning of the 8th of November the remainder of the boats
having arrived, all are unloaded. Some of the men in charge of Col. Hopkins,
who will explore more thoroughly the river on which we are encamped, are
left, and the rest of the boats row out to the lake with the intention of making
an examination of each stream or river running south. To the first river we
come to we sent the canoe "E. A. Burke," in command of J. R. Phillips, to
trace it to its source. The second is assigned to W. Harlander, in canoe
"Baker"; the third to Capt. Hendry, in canoe "Judson." Before half the day
is past we have found
THE MOUTHS OF EIGHT RIVERS,
all running in a southerly direction, from a hundred to two hundred yards
in width where they empty in the lake. Six of them we assign boats to, with
instructions to trace them as far as possible. We also note two small islands
lying about one or two miles northeast of the last river we ascend.
When we all met at camp that night one man's report will answer for
all, which is as follows: "Rivers run about two or three miles through
swamp, and as suddenly as they began, just so suddenly do they cease to
exist, the waters spreading out over and forming the swamp which lies in
front of us."
The river on which we encamped last night we have named "Rita River,"
and the one on which we are now encamped and will use as a means of reach-
ing the Everglades we name in honor of the journal we represent, "T.-D.
We have a heavy shower during the night; all getting wet. The mos-
quitoes do their best to eat us up, and if we sit on the ground a second a
million worms of all kinds, shapes and sizes are crawling down our backs
or up our legs, and to make a long story short, there is hardly a man in the
party that is not sorry he's living, or, at least, life has no attractions for him
at present, and would rather be dead than live on the banks of Okeechobee.
On the 10th day of November, ere the first streaks of dawn, every man
in camp is astir. The changing of different articles from boat to boat, for
part of our programme is, that so far as each boat is concerned, they shall
be independent of each other in the matter of provisions, for although we
expect to be together at night, still to a large extent we will be separated
during the day. We find our meal and grits have been
SPOILED BY THE FREQUENT WETTINGS,
so, with feelings of sorrow, we have it all thrown to the alligators, who are
gathered around our boats, waiting for their departure. Some of our coffee
suffers the same fate. Everything is stored in as small a compass as possible.
When we left our first camp on the Caloosahatchie we imagined everything
was properly stored, but the experience of two weeks has taught us that there
were many things yet to be learned in the manner of packing boats. All is
ready as the sun rises and boats are pushed from shore, the first boat being
the lightest batteau we have, in command of Murray, two of the best axmen
we have in the crew, loaded with part of the meat, and our implements for
clearing the way for the boats behind. Your correspondent follows in his
canoe, the small canoes next, with the largest batteau loaded with camp
equipage and provisions. Col. Hopkins brings up the rear in his canoe, and
keeps everything moving behind. A few hundred yards are passed, and the
order is given to stow away oars and take to the boat poles. When we give
this order we are aware of the fact that many days will pass ere those oars
are put in use again, and that poles will have to be used for many miles to
come. The river has now narrowed down to a stream not more than five or
six feet, a few feet of water in depth, dark, sluggish, and with a slight
perceptible current running north. The boughs of the trees lap over the
water, the vines form a perfect net-work to bar our progress, and to all
appearances when we approach these barriers it seems as if the end of our
water course has been reached, but with a few strokes of the machetes, axes
and hatchets our way is cleared, and our journey is resumed for a few yards,
until the next obstruction is reached, sometimes a sunken log, the roots of
trees extending across the whole channel, or the branches of trees which
reach the surface of the water. We have gone but a couple of miles when we
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
discover that the river no longer exists, but has lost itself in a dense swamp
of custard apples. Our compass is now, and will be until the end of our
voyage, our only guide. We are now penetrating a portion of the State which
has never been done before by any white man, and never even by Indians,
except when compelled to do so during the last Indian war as a means of
escape from the soldiers who were in pursuit. Our course is due south, and
our present object to cut our path through this, to all appearances, impene-
trable thicket. The axes and machete are kept busy until 2 o'clock, cutting
trees and slashing vines. The trees soon become thinner, and about 3 o'clock
we find that our course has brought us to the borders of a marsh of yma
grass, wampu or warmpea, and mixed with scrub willow. Now we begin to
realize the difficulties which lie before us, many of which we had never
taken into consideration. In the first place, by close examination we find
that at this season, when the water is highest, that it is at present at its lowest.
The water mark upon the trees indicate that it has been five feet above its
present level; how long ago we are unable to state. The mark certainly is not
very old, and portions of grass, which have lodged between the branches of
the trees, still remain there, indicating that not many years have elapsed since
the mark was made. Perhaps it would be better to say months, instead of
years. We examine
THE DEPTH OF WATER
in our front, and find we have about five inches of water and fifteen feet,
more or less, of mud. In other words we might say, "no bottom," and above
the water level marsh grass and scrub trees, through which nothing but
muscle will propel the boats. Climbing up a tree and examining our situation
we find that a line of timber extending southeast about four miles, and
southwest about the same distance, leaves us in the centre of what is com-
monly known as a "bite," and in our front or southward there extends before
us one vast marsh, in which even with a field-glass we see no sign of water
or trees of any description. We do not include in this description a thin line
of custard apple trees lying about one-quarter of a mile from us in front.
There is no use in discussing the situation for a single minute, so orders
are given for every man to get overboard, and overboard they all go, and
the boats are propelled inch by inch, the men sometimes sinking almost out
of sight. Our journey is pursued in this way for several hundred yards, when
we find out that the men in charge of the batteaus are unable to push them
through the tall grass, and are therefore compelled to send back the men
from the foremost boats and bring them up. We are compelled to do this
during the whole day, and after a hard day's work we find we have traveled
about two miles, but only one-quarter of a mile from where we left the
swamp and came into the marsh. Orders are given to camp. Provisions for
a few days ahead were cooked at our last night's camp, but there is the
indispensable coffee to make, so the different pots and skillets are distributed
among the boats, fires are built in them, and each man soon has his tin cup
of boiling coffee. The bows of each boat touch, so communication is kept
up with each other. Every one is kept busy for awhile passing down or up
the line certain articles needed by his neighbor. Although our canoes are
resting on the bottom firmly and do not tip over, still we are aware that it is
soft and yielding mud, and unless a fellow wants to sink to his chin he has
to stick to his boat. Supper is soon over, and the men are soon busy making
down their beds for the purpose of getting under bars from
who, from the way they swarm around and attack us, could not have had a
square meal for many a day. Even the bars are not a perfect protection, for
our artist, Mr. Harlander, will certify under oath that at bed-time they
began lighting on the top of his bar, and he quietly smiled to himself as he
thought of his impregnable position. In one hour, after a short nap, he
awoke and found, as he supposed, some kind friend had stretched an awning
over him to protect him from both dew and moonlight. He thought nothing
more of it until the top of his bar caved in, and to his horror he found that
it had been caused by the weight of the mosquitoes on top, all of them having
combined to attack him in that peculiar and original manner. It is even
amusing (provided your mosquito bar is a strong one) to lie and watch
them trying to scratch a hole, holding on with their hind legs and scratching
with their forelegs and "sticker". An Everglade mosquito in rest, that is to
say when he gets exhausted from some such fruitless attempt as to scratch
through our "keg of nails," shows but four legs and one "sticker," but just
let him get a good hold between your shoulders where you can't reach him,
and there is no scratching-post near to rub him off, and he becomes all
stickers, and no legs. Experience will prove all and more than I can possibly
say on the subject. On the morning of Nov. 11 (Sunday) the men do not
need any calling to awaken them. Long before we get up, and that is before
day dawns, there is a hum of voices and smell of boiling coffee. This
sleeping cramped up in boats is something new to the majority of the party,
and they are glad to rise early. At day-dawn the men have all breakfasted,
and soon every one is stripping off their dry clothes and donning the wet
suit of yesterday. Before starting into the Everglades we knew our first diffi-
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
culty, and, as we supposed greatest, was cutting through the dense thicket
bordering upon Lake Okeechobee, and our next
CUTTING THROUGH THE SAW GRASS.
The last we expected to overcome to a great extent by burning ahead of us.
We did not anticipate that the strip of intervening marsh between swamp
and saw-grass, was of any great size, or even if it was, that we would find
plenty of water to float our boats, and be able to pole through without much
difficulty. To our sorrow we find that we have a task before us which will
entail such hard labor upon the men that if it continues for many days will
completely break them down. Two men are dispatched at daylight, with a
compass to guide them and machetes to cut their way through the tall grass.
Their instructions are to go due south, walk until 12 o'clock, and if they find
the edge of saw-grass marsh to fire it and return. In a few seconds the tall
grass hides them from our view, though for many minutes we hear them
floundering through the mud, and we resume our labors, tramping down the
grass and pushing our boats over. Once in awhile one of the men misses his
foothold upon the roots of the grass, and if he is not lucky enough to catch
the side of the boat for a second, he disappears from view. We occasionally
strike large ponds grown up thickly with wampee, or warm pea, and in a
few seconds the men are suffering agony, caused by coming in contact with
the roots, which produce a terrible burning and stinging sensation. We
usually stand up in our canoe and pole it along, assisted by Caesar, who
wades along in the rear and pushes. On this day we used a little more
strength at one time than usual, or there was a weak place in our pole, as
we find out by its snapping, and the T.-D. correspondent finding himself on
his way to China, or some other place we won't mention, and worst of all,
going there head foremost. Caesar nobly comes to the rescue and pulls us
out by the legs, and after looking around and seeing that no one, except our
artist, has seen the mishap, we beg for silence on his part, and conclude
rather muddy and wet our boat, to assist Caesar in pushing. Caesar said
afterward he wanted to laugh awful bad, "but de looks of de major's left
eye wid about a pound of black mud ober it skeered him for de time."
Slowly and sadly we wade on behind our canoe, pushing without spirit or
animation for half an hour, when suddenly we are the liveliest and most
animated man in the crowd, judging by the way we cavort around, and
finally jump in our canoe, mud and all, and go for a dry suit of clothes.
We had come in contact with
THE INFERNAL "WAMPEE,"
and it had conquered. One minute I felt as if the skin was rubbed off and
red pepper was being rubbed in, and the next I lacked about an hundred
hands to do the proper amount of scratching which the occasion warranted.
The peculiar pain was so great that I feel warranted in saying that if its
intensity had lasted for an hour, it would have put me in the condition of a
raving maniac. Still the men for two days have been working on it, and
they say after the first sensation of pain subsides, which it does in a few
minutes, leaving only a slight itching, which subsides as soon as clothing is
changed, or contact is removed. Its appearance is similar to the water lily,
the leaf being from six to twelve inches across, the root running to a depth
of six inches, and resembles a shalot in appearance. We had the curiosity
to taste it. We shall do so no more. We can almost imagine that the sharp
needles, which seemed to be pricking every nerve in our face, is still at work.
Just before 12 o'clock we heard a roaring sound like an approaching
wind, followed by a cracking and popping, reminding us of the distant firing
of musketry in a battle. Looking ahead a column of smoke is seen rising,
and next flames shoot up to a distance of twenty or thirty feet. It burns
steadily for about an hour and then goes out. At 4 o'clock the two men
return, wearied and hardly able to drag one foot after another, and report
that they struck the borders of the saw-grass marsh, fired it, found about one
foot water, and that the distance is about two and three-quarter miles from
present camp. This is cheering news, and we put up our mosquito bars in a
more contented frame of mind this night and are all soon fast asleep.
On the 12th day of November, wishing to reach the saw-grass marsh,
a distance of two and three-quarter miles from our camp of last night, we
arouse the men early, and at daylight the whole party, cheered by the pros-
pect of easier work in the future, begin their task of dragging the boats
through the tall marsh grass. Not many yards are passed before we encounter
a new impediment to our progress, which consists of a species of
growing thickly among the grass. In height it is not more than four or five
feet, not much larger than an ordinary walking cane, with a root as large as
a man's leg, reaching several yards in some instances, and lying a few inches
below the surface of the water. Our canoes are not more than the fifth of
an inch thick; consequently we have to be both careful and watchful, for
snagging a hole in one, situated as we are, means its abandonment. The
large batteaus are unable to pass over such obstructions when met; conse-
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
quently the men are compelled to go ahead with axes and clear them from
our track, doing a few yards at a time, returning to the boats, pull them
over, and then resume their task. It is hard work, and when the sun goes
down and we find that we are only three-quarters of a mile from our camp
of last night we feel almost discouraged and ready to try some other point
of departure from the lake, but when we look around and see the men
cheerful and if not contented, certainly looking so, we feel encouraged and
FIGHT IT OUT ON THIS LINE.
Boats have to be farther lightened, so several articles and a portion of
our stores are returned by a batteau which has accompanied us this far, and
will meet the expedition on their arrival at the Gulf. We are advised by the
other members of our party to abandon the largest batteau we have, or at
least let it return; also a large portion of our supplies, but this we do not
think proper to do as long as we can possibly get along, notwithstanding it
impedes our progress, as we do not know what difficulties may lie in our
path or how long we may be detained ere we reach the end of our journey.
Another reason is that the hard usage our canoes are receiving by being
dragged through the mud will more than likely wear them out, and we will
then depend entirely for transportation upon the two batteaus which accom-
pany us. As usual we have to camp in our boats, take our usual supper of
bacon, hard bread and coffee, and at 9 o'clock there is not a sound in camp
except the song of the festive mosquito as he lingers lovingly around some
mosquito bar, seeking to find some unnoticed hole through which to make
an entrance. He finds it in some cases, for occasionally we hear a muttered
growl down the line, and the occupant's language is not exactly suited to a
camp meeting. No one thinks of any other protection from the heavy dews
except their mosquito bars, and even if we had tents we could not use them.
We are up early on the morning of Nov. 13, and before the start is
made we climb the mast of the batteau, and examine carefully the country
in our front. We see before us one unlimited expanse of
TALL, WAVING MARSH GRASS,
without a tree or even a bush rising above the level of the grass. Again and
again we bring into use our field glass, but alas, the same unbroken level
plain meets our view, the same brown color unrelieved by even a patch of
green or a depression or rising of the surface. We are unable to distinguish
where the marsh grass ends and the saw-grass begins, for it is all alike, all
the same color, the same height, and what is worse still, all the same diffi-
culties and perhaps greater for the next ten miles in our front, on our left
and on our right. Still, we are like all the rest of mankind-we would rather
cope with difficulties we cannot see and know not of than to return and
re-encounter those of which we know so well.
THROUGH WE MUST GO,
so the orders for "all overboard" is given and our snail-like progress begins,
and is continued until 1 o'clock p. m., when we find ourselves upon the
borders of the saw-grass. Even though our difficulty of getting through may
be increased, still anything is preferable to the dull monotony of the last
three days, and the men involuntarily give a cheer as they see what lies in
front. The water has not increased in depth, and as for the mud our pole,
which is over twelve feet in length, has failed to find bottom. Orders are
given to put fire to the grass, and in a few seconds the flames are sweeping
a clear path in our front, leaving only a thick stubble of four or six inches
above the level of the water. The boats are pushed forward, and although
they are more easily propelled through, yet the men's foothold upon the roots
of the saw-grass is more precarious, and almost every second some of them
are slipping up to their necks in the soft mud, consequently our progress is
unchanged. When night comes on we reckon up the distance traveled that
day, and find that one long mile will tell the tale. We take another look
through our field glass before sun-down, with the same result as in the
morning-no open water or trees in front.
Before going farther, by reference to a map of the Everglades, it will
be seen as already stated, in a previous letter, that our point of departure
was from the extreme point south on Lake Okeechobee, our exit to be
through Shark, or Harney's River, into White Water Bay, or some of the
numerous channels running into the Gulf to the Ten Thousand Islands,
to be south, diverging westward only a sufficient distance to bring us on
our due south course to one or the other of those two designated points.
Our course, while cutting through the swamps surrounding Lake Okee-
chobee was a little east of south, so that now we are clear of the swamps,
our course is southwest, which we expect to bring us out in the vicinity of
Prophet or Cabbage Island, in the centre of the Everglades. Part of our
expectations was to reach the open waters of the Glades, and cruise around
among the islands until we reached the head of Shark or Harney's River.
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
The saw-grass marsh we expected to be about ten miles in width. In this we
were disappointed. The eyes see nothing ahead even at an elevation of ten
feet, gained by climbing one of the boat masts, but the same level plain of
dead grass. We know it is over ten miles, and at the rate we are going, and
the obstacles to surmount, the prospects ahead are not encouraging.
We stop work before sundown to give the men an opportunity of cooking
supper, which is done by building small fires in their iron pots in the boats,
frying or broiling their bacon and boiling their coffee. Our boats are small,
hardly of a sufficient size to carry the requisite amount of provisions, con-
sequently we are unable to lay in a supply of fuel in the shape of wood,
always trusting through the day to get enough of dead twigs to answer the
purpose. To-night we realize one of our future troubles. The fires which
cleared our path has also cleared it of everything else except the green
stubble of grass left standing, and few of us have laid in even a small supply
necessary for immediate use. By hook or crook, each boat has succeeded in
borrowing from his neighbor or found an extra box, for the fires burn as
usual, and hot coffee is the order of the night. We are supplied with canned
meats for such emergencies, and the commissary distributes them.
The camp that night is illuminated by the flames of
THE BURNING GRASS.
We are encamped within a perfect circle of fire, and the eye never tires of
watching the different fantastic shapes assumed by the flames, as they leap
in the air to a height of thirty or forty feet, roaring and crackling as they
envelop everything before them. Their course is sometimes stopped by meet-
ing with ponds, but it is only for a minute ere they sweep around it, and
their onward course of destruction is resumed. The fire is perhaps two miles
from us, yet we can read by its light.
The 14th of November dawns upon us, and by the appearance of the
sky we are satisfied that we are in for a hard rain. Everything in the boats
is protected as well as the means at our command will allow, and our
onward course is resumed. The front boat at present is the canoe "W. H. H.
Judson," occupied by Capt. Hendry, pushed by two men, and followed by
our smallest provision batteau. The canoe is the opening wedge, which breaks
our path through the rank stubble of saw-grass left standing by the fire, and
the others following, widen and deepen the channel, so that our large
batteau is considerably assisted in getting through. Messrs. Harlander and
Phillips in the two small canoes "E. A. Burke" and "Page M. Baker," disdain
assistance from any one, but stripped to their underclothing, they walk
behind their canoes and propel them along. The two large canoes "Susie B."
and "Daisy W." are able to get along with Caesar and Tiger to push. Col.
Hopkins and your correspondent aiding with poles, except in extreme cases
which occasionally arise, and then we too take to the mud and water.
This is now the fourth day since we left our camp on Lake Okeechobee,
or at least the banks of The Times-Democrat River, yet a large cypress tree
standing at our point of departure looms up as large as ever in our rear.
Each night as we camp, we hear the wish on every side that when we camp
again the old cypress will be out of veiw. There is nothing worthy of
recounting that occurs on this day, except that we
HOISTED THE SAILS
on our boats for the purpose of drying them, they having been wet in the
rain that morning, and found that they assisted so materially in propelling
the boats, that soon every boat had every stitch of canvass spread to a stiff
northeaster that was blowing, and consequently made over a mile. We are
all in better spirits when night closes in and go to work getting our suppers
with more vim than usual. We have had a barrel of bread emptied, and
after breaking it up, distributed the barrel among the boats to cook with.
Mr. Phillips, our commissary, whose canoe rests beside ours at night, and
follows next to us during the day, is our only messmate, Caesar officiating
as head waiter. The other boats have formed similar messes with their next
neighbors and everything works harmoniously. We are compelled to do this
while our present situation continues, as we are unable to move from canoe
to canoe, although we are in line and touching without seriously incon-
veniencing each other. In fact none of us want visitors at this time, although
we have no objection to sit in our canoes, talk, smoke, laugh over the events
of the day, or discuss our next day's movements, and being so near each
other, conversation is always general, and joined in by all the gentlemen
of the party.
OUR COLORED CREW
occupy the batteaus, and hard as their labor is compelled to be during the
day, they are cheerful at night, and we have heard no grumbling from any
of them, which generally occurs where men are obliged to do so much extra
work and of such a nature. Since our departure from the Caloosahatchie
River we have neither killed nor seen any game of any description. Ducks
we certainly expected to see, but so far have seen none. On Okeechobee, in
all our wandering through the swamps, up and down the different streams,
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
we only saw one squirrel, an otter and about 10,000 alligators, more or less.
All around us reigns
A DEATH-LIKE STILLNESS
unrelieved by any sound of animal life of any description. The croaking of
a frog, the hoot of an owl, or the bellow of an alligator would be a relief.
Neither sight nor sound to relieve this desert surrounding us on every side
causes a feeling of depression we cannot avoid, and the men do all they can
to keep everything lively by the sound of their own voices, until the time
comes for them to roll up in their blankets and forget in slumber the labors
of the day gone by, or that which the morrow will bring.
Our usual labor is resumed on the morning of the 15th of November,
and the same hard work goes on. We hold a consultation with Col. Hopkins,
our civil engineer of the expedition, and Capt. Hendry that night, and they,
like myself, are inclined to look at our prospects of getting through as rather
doubtful, and, personally, we are all inclined to turn westward, strike
THE INDIAN TRAIL,
running from Lake Hickpochee around the western shores of the Everglades,
and thence to centre of Everglades after reaching the Big Cypress Swamp,
but when we realize that to do so would not be carrying out the programme
of the expedition, the idea is abandoned, and for weal or woe we determine
to adhere to our present course. We have caught sight of a small bunch of
green bushes about two miles to the southeast, which we hope is a good
indication that the face of the country will soon change, and when the pros-
pect is announced to the men no set of shipwrecked mariners ever scanned
the horizon as eagerly as they did in the direction of that little clump of
green bushes-to the eyes a perfect little oasis in the desert, which surrounds
us on every side. Small as the encouragement is to persevere, it is surprising
to see how quickly everybody's spirits are raised. Men are heard singing in
the boats, jokes and laughter is heard on every side and we are certain if a
man in the party had attempted to croak or dampen the spirits of the men,
some kind hand would have been found ready to pitch him overboard in
No need to give the order "all overboard" on the morning of the 16th
of November, for every man is eager to go forward, and daylight finds every
man busy putting on his wet clothing and hurrying those who are lagging in
making their morning toilet.
The water is a little deeper to-day, a strong wind is blowing from the
northeast, consequently our sails are of great assistance, and our progress is
a little better than the previous day, as we make one and a half miles, the
greatest distance made since our departure from Lake Okeechobee.
There is no change in the prospects ahead, so far as we can see, and
that haven of rest we expected to reach, or at least catch a glimpse of by
sundown, is still hid from view. We do our best to cheer the men, and try
to convince them of the almost certainty of a change for the better on the
morrow, and to a certain extent succeed, but they are not quite as cheerful
as on the night past. All are aware that as long as provisions hold out
there can be no turn back, and ahead they must go. In fact, the dread of
having to go back over the same route is, if anything, greater than that of
facing the unknown difficulties ahead. Still, working in mud and water
up to the waist, stung every minute by the numerous insects which infest
the water, burnt by wampee, coming in contact with moccasins at almost
every step by day, and sleeping cramped up in small boats at night, is not
an enlivening life to lead.
It is blowing quite a gale from the northeast on the morning of the
17th of November, as we rise from our beds in the boats, don our wet
clothing pulled off the night before, and all jump overboard to begin the
usual work of pushing the boats through the saw-grass. It is not a very
pleasant feeling to exchange comfortable dry clothing for that which is
wringing wet, and jump overboard into mud and water which reaches to
a fellow's waist, but by the time you have
sticking to every square inch of skin under water, but by a species of stinging
bug every five minutes, and the enlivening sensation of feeling a moccasin
wriggling between your legs, or hissing in your face at almost every step,
you feel glad to know you are living, and care but little for water, mud,
or anything else. Every half hour the men stop, get on the bow of the boats,
and go to pulling off the leeches which cling to them. When ever a leech
is pulled off the wound bleeds profusely for several minutes, and it is an
hourly occurrence to see the water around the boats changed perfectly
crimson with blood from the men. By 12 o'clock the wind is blowing quite
a gale, the sails of the canoes are lowered, but before our large batteau, the
"Queen Anne," can follow suit, a gust of wind strikes her, the masts snap
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
off, down comes her sails, and we realize something that has never to our
knowledge before occurred, to wit: a shipwreck in water only four inches
deep, and without a single wave. The whole party are sorry, for her sails
have materially assisted us in getting along. No material change is found
in the country through which we travel this day. It is the same through
which we have traveled for seven days. Nothing but saw-grass, a little water,
plenty of soft, black, slimy mud, and with not a single tree or bush in sight,
except those which we left on the 10th of November. The old cypress which
marks the point from which we left the swamp is still plainly in sight to the
naked eye, to the great disgust and discouragement of everybody. The first
thing the men do when they finish their day's work is to get on the bow
of their boats and look in the direction of that tree, and then the sad news
goes down the line, "It's dar yit." We have hardly time to cook supper and
eat it, before we are warned of an approaching rain, and just have time
to stow things away, don our oil-cloth coats and caps, when down it comes,
and for two or three hours we sit on the deck of our canoes Turkish fashion,
wondering if the bottom has not fallen out above, or trying to recall some
instance of a man being drowned by rain beating on his face. The end
comes at last, and after hailing out boats, wringing the water out of our
blankets and neglecting to say our prayers, we tumble down in the bottom
of the canoe and sleep until sunrise.
On the morning of the 18th of November, before giving orders to start,
one of the men, acting as spokesman for the rest, inform us that they are
COMPLETELY BROKEN DOWN,
and, ask that we give them this day to rest in. They inform me also that it is
Sunday, a fact which I had lost sight of. Their request is granted, so we
lie in our boats all day and read over and over the only thing we have in
the shape of reading matter in the camp, which is an old copy of a news-
paper called the "Bitter Sweet," published at Kissimmee City by Col Will
Wallace Harney. The darkies lay down in their boats completely worn out,
and do not stir until dark, when they only stay up long enough to get their
supper and then back to bed again.
Everything is ready for an early start on the morning of the 19th of
November, so before sunrise we are on our journey. The grass is too wet
to burn, so we are compelled to cut and break through it. The grass is much
thicker and higher than heretofore, but the water is deeper and the bottom
much firmer; consequently, we make a good day's journey, and by sundown
have accomplished a mile and a half. We have another shower during the
night to enliven us. Everything is soaked with water, as we had made no
preparations for such an occurrence. It is clear and bright on the morning
of the 20th of November, and we spend several minutes looking from
the mast-head of our boat, through a field-glass, at the country in our front,
to the right and left, and nothing meets our eye but the same unbroken level
plain of brown grass, reaching as far as the eye can see. There is water
sufficient to float the boats, which is encouraging, and the men work
cheerfully. About 11 o'clock the boats are crowded together in a small pond,
and orders are given for the grass to be fired. In a few seconds the dense
black smoke rises, the flames leap in the air to a height of twenty-five or
thirty feet as they clear our path in front of us, the men pushing the canoes
in the opening as soon as made, and following in the make of the fire. The
fire soon leaves us far behind, with nothing to remind us of its past or
present existence except the dense, dark column of smoke in our front,
and the black and burnt stubble of grass over which we wearily drag our
boats. Suddenly all is excitement in our little crowd, boats are stopped, and
the men crowd the decks looking eagerly to the west and southwest of our
present course. The cause of this are two
COLUMNS OF SMOKE
about ten miles from us, which are lazily curling up from the ground. No
need to conjecture whose hands have lighted those fires, as we are well
aware that over an hundred miles lie between us and any white man, and
that there are no human beings except Indians in this desert waste. Again
and again during the day do we make smokes, which are quickly answered
in front and to the westward of us by a similar smoke. We talk of nothing
else that night when we go into camp except about the prospect of soon
meeting Indians, the possibility of their being friendly, and of the different
services they could render us in our present condition as guides, etc. The
darkies one and all agree that they don't hanker after "Injin," and if it is
all the same to us that they would prefer not meeting them, either in a
friendly or warlike spirit.
We noticed on the evening before that the water was again getting
shallow, and our boats dragged the bottom when we went into camp. So
when we start on the morning of the 21st of November, it is in fear and
trembling we begin our journey. For several hours we find the saw-grass
larger and thicker than usual, about three inches of water, and ground
firmer and harder. At 11 o'clock the water increases in depth, until at
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
12 o'clock we find to our surprise that our boats are floating in eighteen
inches of water, that we are making good progress, the sails of the boats
being sufficient to carry them along, the men being only required to clear
a path and guide the boats. We make a smoke, which is answered almost
immediately by similar smokes in our front and to our right. Another smoke
springs up suddenly almost in our rear, to the northwest. We are satisfied
now that we are being closely
WATCHED BY THE INDIANS,
whether with good or bad intentions we are unable to guess. About 3 o'clock
p.m. our foremost boat finds itself floating in a little stream about ten feet
wide and fifteen feet deep, the surface covered with water-lilies and flags,
running southwest. We conclude to launch our boats on its surface and
follow it so long as it runs in a southerly direction, hoping that it will carry
us to the open waters of the Glades. It is a relief to the men to find themselves
on the decks of their boats poling, instead of in the water and mud, pushing
and pulling the first time they have been able to do so since their de-
parture from Lake Okeechobee.
After following the stream for a few hundred yards, we emerge into
A BEAUTIFUL LITTLE BASIN,
twenty or thirty yards wide, the water clear as crystal, fifteen feet deep,
with hundreds of trout swimming in it, and an alligator to every square
yard. They (the alligators) seem perfectly fearless of us, swim to within a
few feet, and one old fellow actually rubbed his snout against the side of one
of the canoes. We do not shoot them, but the men occasionally hit one of
them over the head with an oar. We find a dozen little rivulets flowing out
of this basin, in every direction. They are all similar to the one by which
we entered it. Selecting the one running due south, we continue our journey
for a few hundred yards, when our little stream ends as suddenly as it
began, and our men returned to their weary work of pushing the boats
through the saw grass. It is a bitter disappointment to all of us, but we
are getting accustomed to such, and so don't even take the trouble to grumble.
We go into camp early on this day, so as to give the men a little rest after
their hard day's work; also to catch a few trout for supper.
During the whole of the 22d of November the men have a hard time
pulling their boats through the grass, the water being only about three and
a half inches in depth, and the bottom hard and firm. The grass is a little
thinner, and occasionally we come across a tuft of weeds growing in it. At
12 o'clock we make a smoke, which is answered by similar ones in three
different directions, somewhat nearer than they were the day before. We
come to numerous little basins similar to the one of yesterday, with some-
times a rivulet flowing from them in the direction we are travelling, which
we take and follow to the end, which is never more than 200 or 300 yards.
THE QUEEN ANNE,
is leaking badly, and the provisions are getting damaged. We are unable to
repair her, so determine to divide her load among the other boats and aban-
don her the next day.
On the 23d of November the sun for the first time in several days rises
clear, and we are enabled to take a good observation of the surrounding
country through a field glass. We sight for the first time the cypress timber
which lines the western border of the Everglades, which is about fifteen
miles from us. In our front and to the eastward, nothing meets our gaze
but the same unbroken plain of saw grass. The load of the "Queen Anne"
is divided among the other boats, which adds considerable to their weight,
and after tying a couple of tin buckets to her masthead, we sorrowfully turn
our backs and leave her solitary and alone in this vast saw grass marsh,
her mast as a roosting place for birds, and her hull a house for alligators
Numerous flocks of
DUCKS AND CURLEWS
fly over us on this day, consequently we are enabled to bag a few. The extra
load we have put in our canoes compels every man to get overboard and
put his shoulder to the boats and push them along. We still continue to find
basins of water similar to those of the day before, and once in awhile a
rivulet, which helps us on our way. The water still continues shallow, with
hard bottom. We make our usual signal smoke, and get answers as on
the previous day.
On the morning of Nov. 24 we start at day-dawn, hoping to make a
good day's journey. We are very materially assisted on our way by several
different creeks that we are lucky enough to strike. At 12 o'clock we enter a
basin, and on its banks find about five feet square of
the first we have seen since leaving Lake Okeechobee. Several of the canoes
are pulled up out of the water and examined. All are worn, some much
worse than others. The canoe "Judson," which has had the hardest work
to perform, being in front, has worn almost as thin as paper, and is leaking
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
badly. We are satisfied it can last but a few more days. If the remainder of
the country between us and the Gulf continues the same as that we have
already passed over, we will arrive without a single boat in condition to
float. Knowing this, Capt. Hendry volunteers to take canoe "Judson," and,
with the aid of one man, cut his way through to the western border, and
from there go across the country to Fort Myers, from which place he will
dispatch a larger boat to meet us at the head of Sharks River. The captain's
offer is accepted, he being the only one of the party acquainted with the
western shore and able to perform so difficult a task. We spend several hours
on this night writing letters home for ourselves personally, and also for
the colored men to their families.
All are up before daylight on Nov. 25, and preparations are made for
an early start. Ten days' rations are placed in the canoe "Judson," and
Madison Williams, one of our colored crew, is detailed to accompany Capt.
Hendry. As the sun rises we all shake hands with the captain, wish him
"bon voyage," and resume our course due south, while he goes west. It
needs but the separation of a few yards to lose sight of each other in the tall
grass surrounding us. Every hour or two we make a smoke, which is answered
by the captain, as well as the Indians around us. We are thus enabled to
see that the captain is making good progress. The men are almost entirely
broken down, and the loss of our two companions seems to have a very
dispiriting effect on the whole party. We go into camp early, having made
a good day's journey of a mile and a half.
We do not leave camp until very near 9 o'clock on the morning of
Nov. 26. Men, boats and everything else are giving out. The clothing of
the men are cut in shreds, their hands are lacerated by coming in contact
with the saw-grass, and although each man started with two pairs of shoes,
they are almost barefooted now. We are all about as
ROUGH AND RAGGED
a looking lot of men as ever were seen on the American continent, and if
present hard work continues, and we should accidentally lose our blankets
before we arrive on the sea coast, we will certainly present a very picturesque
appearance in a "Georgia uniform," minus the shirt color and spurs, as we
emerge from the wilderness. Our artist is the happy possessor of a pair of
boots he can't wear, which boots we are now the owner of, having swapped
our shoes for them, so we wear a contented smile, feeling satisfied that under
all circumstances, as chief of the expedition, we can always make quite a
decent appearance with the aid of our india rubber coat and those boots.
For some time after leaving camp, the water is shallow, hardly covering the
men's feet, and at almost every step we expect to find what we have been
dreading, dry ground over which we will be compelled to carry our boats,
and at the same time break and cut our way through the saw-grass. At 10
o'clock we find a creek running south, which we follow for half a mile,
and then resume our task of cutting through the saw-grass. The water is
deeper, which is one consolation, and we are enabled to make two miles
before dark. We kill several curlew and ducks as they fly over us in the
evening, and consequently have broiled duck and curlew for supper. As we
crawl into our canoes that evening we feel satisfied that our legs won't
stand the work many more days, and that we will either have to trade off
for a better pair, or mend the holes in the only thing in the shape of pants
we have left, a pair of red flannel drawers.
We see every appearance of rain on the morning of Nov. 27, as we
leave camp, but as we have water to float our boats we do not bother about
the weather. Your correspondent's position in the expedition since the water
has become so shallow as to prevent our riding in a canoe, has been walking
in front of the boats, compass in hand, keeping our course and making the
first opening in the grass. Our clothing has been cut in shreds, and to-day
we are suffering so much from the cuts and scratches received that at
4 o'clock we are compelled to put another man in front and direct the
course from our canoe, which is behind the lead boat, our provision batteau.
WE STRIKE ROCK
at a depth of seven feet from surface, which is the first we have struck
since our journey began. This is a sure sign that we are approaching the
Islands of the Everglades. We stop before sun-down, climb one of the masts
of our boats, and with a field-glass discover an island lying about five miles
southeast of our present course. We announce the fact to the men, who for
almost three weeks have been watching, waiting and hoping for such good
news, and when at last the glad tidings are told, no shipwrecked mariners
coming for the first time in sight of land could have shown more joy than
did the T.-D. expedition when the
FIRST ISLAND OF EVERGLADES
looms in sight. It is everything to us. It means rest for our broken-down
crew, the opportunity of repairing and saving the boats, dry land to walk
We had intended remaining in camp during the whole of the 30th instant,
but we all feel rested and have done all we can to repair our boats. The
men are anxious to continue, so at 12 o'clock we bid farewell to T.-D. Island,
shove off from shore, and for the first time in many days are able to use
our oars. Many times during the day we come to the end of the water-course
we are following, but by pulling the boats through the saw-grass a few yards
we are able to go into another, the whole face of the country being a perfect
network of such courses, the saw-grass between them being only a few yards
through. We pass a number of islands, none over two acres in extent, and
if any high land is upon them, not more than a few yards in the centre. Just
before dark we reach a small island, on which we hope to find dry land
and camp for the night. Find none, and so sleep in our canoes.
On Dec. I we have but little difficulty in getting along- water about
three feet, with rocky bottom. Our course lies between numerous islands, all
of which are under water. We see a number of ducks, but kill none. By
sundown we reach Cabbage Island, on which we camp all night. We find
the remains of several old camps on the island, it being a regular stopping
place for the Indians on their journeys from their settlements in the Big
Cyprus Swamp to Miami on the Atlantic coast. We find the island infested
with snakes, so sleep in our canoes.
On Dec. 2 resume our journey. Find plenty of water for boats, so are
enabled to row all day. At 11 o'clock we make a signal smoke and receive
half a dozen answers from different directions, none nearer than about five
miles. The Indians are all around us, and why some of them do not put in
an appearance is a problem we are unable to solve, nor do we take time
to make the attempt, as we are in a hurry to get out of that country, and in
our hearts are perfectly willing to promise the Indians, or anybody else
concerned, that if they will let us alone this time, like the little boy "we
won't do so no more," so help us Bob. We reach an island that night, but
we don't reach any dry land so camp in our boats.
On Dec. 3 start at day-dawn. The islands get thicker and timber on
them larger. All are small, and every one we examine covered with water.
By 12 o'clock we have made fifteen miles, burning the grass whenever we
are able, hoping to get an answering smoke from the head of Sharks River,
where we expect to find a boat and men awaiting us. We get answers from
every direction except the right one. At 2 o'clock the rocks begin to crop
out above the surface of the water, and we have to get out of the boats and
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
on, and wood to cook with. Tired as we are we sit up until a late hour that
night, and for the first time in many days, we hear our crew singing their
usual songs, and from canoe to canoe jokes are passed, anecdotes told, and
all are merry and happy as a parcel of school boys.
No need to wake up the men on the morning of the 28th of November.
Everybody gets up before daylight eager and anxious to get off. As soon as
we are able to see the hands of our compass, we give the command "all over-
board," and the men fairly lift the boats out of water in their anxiety to get
to our haven of rest. We do not go more than half a mile before we find
ourselves in a species of grassy waters, bounded on each side by a thick
wall of saw grass. In other words a water course an hundred yards wide,
with a thin species of marsh-grass covering it, the water about eighteen
inches deep. It goes in the direction of our island, we have no trouble in
propelling our boats so we get along rapidly, and soon are in plain sight
of not only this particular island but many others beyond and on each side
At 4 o'clock we find ourselves on the borders of the island which is
about three acres in extent, covered with a growth of wild fig and custard-
apple trees. The men soon cut away through the brush and trees until they
reach the dry ground, which is about twenty feet square, covered with maiden
cane. Temporary shelters are erected for the provisions, boats are unloaded,
and each pulled out of the water. By dark the camp is pitched, supper is
soon prepared, and shortly our tired party is getting such sleep as is possible
under the circumstances.
On the morning of the 29th of November we have the canoes turned
over and begin the work of cementing the cracks and putting on a coat of
asphalt on their bottoms while the men sun the provisions. By 12 o'clock the
main work is done, and all amuse themselves washing and mending their
clothes, while others clean their guns and load cartridges for killing the
game which in our imagination we are on the eve of finding in abundance.
We climb to the top of the highest tree on the island, and get a good view
of the surrounding country. We find that we are on the borders of the
islands of the Glades, and the one on which we are now encamped is the
most northern. To the east, west and south, as far as the eye can reach, we
see hundreds of little islands, divided from each other by the grassy water
already described, and saw-grass marsh.
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM
lift them carefully a few feet at a time. Our canoes are thin, the rocks
sharp and pointed, and the least carelessness on our part will put a hole
through their bottom, without any means at our command of repairing dam-
age. All the different water courses seem to have come together, or at least
the saw-grass has disappeared to a great extent, and our course lies between
innumerable islands as far as the eye can reach. We find dry land on one
of the islands we reach at sundown, and camp all night.
On Dec. 4 we resume our journey. We still have to wade beside our
boats, and all our strength is called for every ten or fifteen yards to lift
the boats over the ledges of rock. At 11 o'clock we make a smoke and watch
anxiously in our front for an answer. For awhile we look in vain, but
suddenly to our joy
A THIN COLUMN OF SMOKE
shoots up above the tops of the intervening trees about six miles in our
front, which from our maps and the course we have kept must be in the
neighborhood of the mouth of Sharks River. Again and again it rises from
the same place during the day, which convinces us plainer than words that
it is our own men making signals to us. Dark comes on and against our will
we are compelled to go into camp. We look for no island or dry ground, but
where night overtakes us there we stop, and tired as we are, spend most of
the night looking at our watch and wishing for daylight to resume our
Before it is daylight on the morning of the 5th of December we are on
our way. We have not more than four inches of water between our boats and
the jagged rocks. Careful as we are, our boats are badly cut. At 11 o'clock
we fire the grass, and immediately an answering smoke comes from the
same spot in our front as on the previous day. This smoke we judge to be
about five miles from us. All that men can do is done by our party on that
day to reach our friends awaiting us, but at 4 o'clock we are still almost
three miles from it. We are all worn out as the sun begins to go down,
when we see approaching us through the marsh a man in a canoe, and in
a second all fatigue is forgotten, as we hasten to meet him. When he gets
near enough we recognize Mr. Christian, the one in whom we intrusted the
task of going around the Gulf shore as far as
to ascend that river to its source, and then encamp until our arrival, making
signal smokes by day, and sending up rockets at night. When he gets in
speaking distance the first question we ask is, Where are we? He answers,
"In two miles of the head-waters of Sharks River." All other things are of
but minor importance to us then. Our programme has been carried out to
the letter, and our task accomplished. Three cheers are given for Christian,
who has so faithfully performed his part of the work, and never was a man's
hand shaken with more fervor than was his, as all crowd around him
answering and asking questions. We camped in our boats in the marsh that
We have killed all the snakes in sight, a good fire is burning, and, by
the number of ducks and curlew which are roasting, broiling and frying,
a person with a vivid imagination would not hesitate to say somebody
intended having a good supper. We all unanimously agreed on landing to
call this island T.-D., take possession of it in the name of the T.-D., and
after taking a good look at our possessions, we are satisfied our right to
ownership will never be questioned for at least a thousand years to come
by any living being. Before it is dark the trees around us are covered with
THOUSANDS OF BIRDS,
consisting of curlews, cranes, water turkeys, buzzards, blackbirds and nu-
merous others we never saw before. We shoot and shoot among them,
killing hundreds, but they will return and punish us by keeping up a most
terrible noise until daylight.
At daylight we are off; reach the head of Sharks River at 8 o'clock,
descend that river for ten miles, take one of its numerous mouths and reach
WHITE WATER BAY
after dark, making thirty-five miles that day.
When we reached White Water Bay we had accomplished all we prom-
ised to do, and more than any man or men ever were able to do before. We
are the first party of white men who ever penetrated the Northern Glades
and the first who ever started from the southern shore of Lake Okeechobee
and came out at the Gulf of Mexico without diverging a mile to the east
or west from their due south course.
In conclusion I sum up my observations of the Everglades in a few
It is a vast marsh, interspersed with thousands of islands small in extent,
and with few exceptions completely inundated, even at the time we explored
MARY K. WINTRINGHAM 93
them, which was during a very dry season. On the islands that were out of
water, there was but a few inches of soil covering the rocks. In my opinion
their drainage is utterly impracticable, and even if it were practicable the
reward for such an undertaking would be lands that could be utilized for
no other purpose than as a grazing ground for stock. They are nothing more
nor less than a vast and useless marsh, and such they will remain for all time
to come, in all probability.
It would not be possible to build, or maintain if built, a telegraph line
along the route traversed by us, which statement is made in reply to
numerous inquiries as to the feasibility of such an enterprise.
A. P. Williams.
MRS. RUBY LEACH CARSON, a founding member and director of the
Association, contributed "Forty Years of Miami Beach" ten years ago. She is
also a contributor of articles to The Florida Historical Quarterly, and author
of Fabulous Florida.
DR. JAMES W. COVINGTON is a professor of history at the University of
Tampa, and a frequent contributor of articles principally about Florida
Indians, to the Florida Anthropologist, The Florida Historical Quarterly, and
Tequesta. He has ready for publication a history of the Third Seminole War.
MRS. LAURA CONRAD PATTON (MRS. DAN 0.) is a member of a pioneer
Dade County family. Together with Dr. Thelma Peters, she assisted her
mother Mrs. Mary Douthit Conrad, in the preparation of "Homesteading in
Florida during the 1890's." Tequesta XVII (1957)
DR. JOE M. RICHARDSON is an assistant professor of history at Florida
State University. His articles have appeared in the Florida Historical Quar-
terly, The Journal of Negro Education, The Journal of Negro History, and
the Tennessee Historical Quarterly.
MRS. MARY K. WINTRINGHAM, now residing in California, was a graduate
student at Louisiana State University when she prepared this item for
publication. The work was directed by Dr. E. A. Davis, Chairman of the
History Department at L.S.U., who also directed the editing of the account
of the first Times-Democrat expedition published in Tequesta X (1950) and
LIST OF MEMBERS
EXPLANATORY NOTE: The Association provides several classes of membership.
"Sustaining" members who pay five dollars a year make up the basic member-
ship. For those who wish to contribute more for the promotion of the Associa-
tion's work the other classes of membership provide the opportunity, and the
publication of their names in the proper category of membership is a means of
recognition. "Patrons" pay ten dollars a year, "Donors" pay twenty-five dollars
a year, "Contributors" pay fifty dollars a year, "Sponsors" pay one hundred
dollars a year, and "Benefactors" pay two hundred and fifty or more dollars
This printed roster is made up of the names of those persons and institutions
that have paid dues in 1963, or in 1964 before September 30 when this material
must go to the press. Those joining after this date in 1964 will have their names
included in the 1965 roster. The symbol ** indicates founding member and
the symbol indicates charter member.
Adams, Adam G., Coral Gables
Agnew, Mrs. Margo, Miami
Albertson Public Library, Orlando
Aldridge, Miss Daisy, Miami
Alexander, David T., Miami
Alexander, John L., No. Miami Beach
Allen, Charles E., Ft. Lauderdale
Allen, Joe, Key West
Allen, Stewart D., Miami
Allison, Mrs. John D., Miami
Altland, Mrs. Patti, Big Pine Key
American Museum of Natural History
Anderson, Mrs. Nils E., Miami
Anderson, Robert H., Miami
Ann, Sister Elizabeth, O.P., Miami
Ansbaugh, Mrs. Fay X., Ft. Lauderdale
Arbogast, Keith, Miami
Archer, Marjorie Leach, Homestead
Arnold, Mrs. Roger W., Miami
Ashbaucher, Lorin F., Miami
Atkins, C. Clyde, Miami
Avery, George N., Big Pine Key
Axelson, Ivar, Miami
Barker, Mrs. Edwin J., Miami
Bartow Public Library
Bassett, Rex, Jr., Ft. Lauderdale
Baxter, John M., Miami*
Beal, K. Malcolm, Miami*
Belden, E. N. Jr., Coral Gables
Berry, Mrs. Richard S., Miami
Bevis, William H., Ft. Meade
Beyer, Dr. R. C., Miami
Bills, Mrs. John T., Miami
Bingham, Mrs. Millicent T., Wash., D.C.
Bishop, Edwin G., Miami
Blackford, Frank, Miami
Blanton, Judge W. F., Miami
Blassingame, Wyatt, Anna Maria
Blauvelt, Mrs. Arthur M., Coral Gables
Bloomberg, Robert L., Miami
Bose, John II, Miami
Bow, Mary M., Miami
Bowen, F. M., Miami
Bowman, Rt. Rev. Marion, O.S.B., St. Leo
Boyd, Dr. Mark F., Tallahassee*
Bozeman, R. E., Washington, D.C.
Brisbine, Dawes, Miami
Bromsen, Dr. Maury A., Boston, Mass.
Brook, John A., Jr., Miami
Brookfield, Charles M., Miami*
Brooks, J. F., Key West
Brooks, J. R., Homestead
Brooks, Marvin J., Miami
Brown, Clark, Jr., Arcadia
Brown, Daniel M., Jr., Miami
Brown, T. O., Frostproof
Brown University Library, Providence, R.I.
Bryant, Mrs. Ruby, Miami
Buchheister, Carl W., New York, N.Y.
Bullen, Ripley P., Gainesville
Burgess, Harry W., Miami
Burghard, August, Ft. Lauderdale
Burkett, Mrs. C. W. Jr., Miami Beach
Burns, Edward B., Orlando
Burton, Mrs. Robert A., Miami*
Bush, Mrs. F. C., Coral Gables*
Bush, James D., Jr., Miami
Bush, Lewis M., So. Miami
Busse, Raymond J., Miami
Byrd, Mrs. J. Wade, Miami
Cahill, J. F., Wonder Lake, III.
Caldwell, Thomas P., Coral Gables**
Caldwell, Mrs. Thomas P., Coral Gables*
Campbell, Park H., So. Miami*
Capron, Louis, West Palm Beach
Carnine, Miss Helen M., Coral Gables
Carreras, Juan I., Miami
Carson, Mrs. Ruby Leach, Miami**
Cartee, Mrs. Horace L., Coral Gables
Carter, Mrs. George deLain, Coral Gables
Carter, Kenneth W., Grosse Point Woods,
Catlow, Mrs. Wm. R., Jr., Plainfield, N.J.*
Central Florida Museum, Orlando
Chance, Michael, Naples
Charlton, Mrs. Elva B., Coral Gables
Clarke, Mary H., Coral Gables
Close, Kenneth, Coral Gables
Cole, R. B., Miami
Collot, Harry A., Miami
Comerford, Miss Nora A., Coral Gables
Conesa, Miss Lillian, Miami
Connolly, Wm. D., Jr., Miami
Cook, John B., Miami
Coral Gables High School
Coral Gables Public Library*
Corley, Miss Pauline, Miami* *
Coslow, George R., Miami
Covington, Dr. James W., Tampa
Craton, Michael, Hamilton, Canada
Creel, Joe, Miami
Criswell, Col. G. C., St. Petersburg Beach
Culpepper, Mrs. Kay M., Miami
Cummings, Rev. Geo. W., Venice
Cummings, Sadie B., Miami Beach
Cushman School, The, Miami*
Darrow, Miss Dorothy, Coral Gables
Davis, Bernard, Miami
Davis, Sidney, Ft. Myers
De Boe, Mrs. Mizpah O., Coral Gables
Deedmeyer, Mrs. George J., Miami
De Lamorton, Fred, Tampa
Dewhurst, John F., Hialeah
Dilullo, Mrs. Luedith, Downey, Calif.
Dismukes, Dr. Wm. Paul, Coral Gables*
Dodd, Miss Dorothy, Tallahassee*
Dorothy, Mrs. Caroline, Coral Gables*
Dressier, Philip, Ft. Lauderdale
DuBois, Mrs. J. R., Jupiter
Dunaway, Mrs. Carl E., Miami*
Duncan, Marvin L., Miami
DuPree, Mrs. Thomas O., Coral Gables
Edmonds, W. R., Islamorada
Elder, Dr. S. F., Miami*
Emerson, William C., M.D., Rome, N.Y.
Everglades Natural History Assoc.,
Fenn, Abbott T., Fitchburg, Mass.
Fite, Robert H., Miami
Fitzgerald, Dr. Joseph H., Miami
Fitzgerald, Willard L., Jr. Coral Gables
Fitzpatrick, Monsignor John J., Miami
Fix, John, Miami
Fix, Mrs. Virginia H., Miami
Flemming, Bryan, Miami
Florida Southern College, Lakeland
Florida State Library, Tallahassee
Flynn, Stephen J., Coral Gables
Forcier, M. J., Pompano Beach
Fortner, Ed, Ocala
Foss, George B., Jr., St. Petersburg
Freeland, Mrs. Wm. L., Miami**
Freeling, J. S., Miami
Freeling, Mrs. J. S., Miami
Freeman, Mrs. Ethel C., Morristown, N.J.
Freeman, Harley L., Ormond Beach
Fullerton, R. C., Coral Gables
Fuzzard, Miss Jessie M., Miami*
Gannaway, Mrs. K. C., Miami
Gardner, Mrs. Rigby, Miami
Geltner, Barry M., Miami
Getz, Irving, Miami
Gilbert, Mrs. Glen A., Hialeah
Gocking, Anthony, Golden Beach
Godfrey, Clyde, Miami
Goza, William M., Clearwater
Gramling, J. C., Jr., Miami
Greenleaf, John W., Jr., Miami
Griggs, Mrs. Nelson W., Miami Shores
Griswold, Oliver, Miami
Halgrim, Robert C., Ft. Myers
Hall, Willis E., Coral Gables
Halstead, W. L., Miami
Hampton, Mrs. John, Sparks, Md.*
Hancock, Mrs. J. T., Okeechobee
Handler, Frances C., Miami Beach
Handler, Cmdr. Frank S., Miami Beach
Hansell, Paul, Miami
Harding, Col. Read B., Ret., Arcadia
Harllee, J. William, Miami
Harlow, Mrs. Frank E., Coral Gables
Harlow, Rev. Frank E., Coral Gables
Harrington, Frederick H., Hialeah
Hart, Mrs. Reginald, Coral Gables
Hartnett, Fred B., Coral Gables*
Harvey, C. B., Key West
Havee, Justin P., Miami*
Havee, Mrs. Kathryn, Miami
Hendry, Judge Norman, Miami
Herin, Thomas D., Miami
Herin, Judge William A., Miami*
Higbie, William S., Miami Shores
Higgins, Mrs. Donald E., Cotuit, Mass.
Hills, Lee, Miami
Hillsborough Co. Historical Comm., Tampa
Historical Society of Ft. Lauderdale
Hodsden, Mrs. Harry, Miami
Holcomb, Lyle D., Miami
Holcomb, Lyle D., Jr., Miami
Holland, Martin J., N. Miami Beach
Holloway, Mrs. June, Miami
Holmdale, Mrs. A. G., Miami
Houck, Mrs. John W., Key West
Hubbell, Willard, Miami
Hudson, Mike Belk, Miami Beach
Hughes, Russell V., Sarasota
Huntington, Henry E., Library and
Art Gallery, San Marino, Calif.
Hurley, Lawrence J., Miami
Irwin, Mrs. John P., Coral Gables
Jacksonville Free Public Library
Jacobstein, Mrs. Helen L., Coral Gables
James, William, Miami
Jenkins, Wesley E., Miami
Jewell, Warren, Miami
Jones, Mrs. L. A., Miami*
Jones, Mrs. Mary A., Miami
Jones, William M., Miami
Judson, Charles B., Miami
Kane, Robert O., Miami
Kasper, Dr. A. F., Miami
Kemper, G. K., Coral Gables
Kent, Selden G., Miami
Kenyon, Alfred, Ft. Lauderdale
Kettle, C. Edward, Miami
Kiem, Edgar C., Miami
King, Dr. C. Harold, Miami
King, Sidney, Surfside
Kirk, C., Ft. Lauderdale
Kitchen, Mrs. Karl K., Miami
Kley, Marian T., Miami
Knight, Telfair, Coral Gables
Knott, Judge James R., W. Palm Beach
Knowles, Mrs. J. H., Miami
Kofoed, Jack, Miami
Kohl, Mrs. Lavenia B., Montclair, N.J.
Lafferty, R. S., Jr., Miami
Lake Worth Public Library
Lemon City Library and
Improvement Assoc., Miami
Lewallen, Alfred J., Miami
Lewis, Miss Carlotta, Coral Gables
Leyden, Mrs. Charles S., Coral Gables
Limmiatis, Ernest, Miami
Lindsley, A. R., Miami Beach
Littlefield, Miss Helena, So. Miami
Lyell, Dr. Robert 0., Miami
Lyell, Mrs. Robert O., Miami
Lynch, Sylvester J., Sarasota*
McClelland, Richard, Miami
McDonald, Mrs. John M., Miami Beach
McKay, John G., Jr., Coral Gables
McLin, C. H., Coral Gables
McNeill, Robert E., Jr., New York, N.Y.
MacDonald, Miss Barbara, Miami
MacDonald, Miss Betty, Miami
MacDonald, Duncan, Miami*
Mangels, Henry E., Jr., Miami
Manley, Miss Marion I., Miami
Manning, Mrs. W. S., Jacksonville
Marchman, Watt P., Fremont, Ohio*
Marks, Henry S., University, Ala.
Martin, John M., Sr., Coral Gables
Martin, Mrs. Kirby A., New York, N.Y.
Martin, Melbourne L., Coral Gables
Martin, Mrs. Paul C., Miami
Martin County Historical Society, Stuart
Mason, Mrs. Joe J., Miami
Mason, Paul C., Hialeah
Mason, Dr. Walter Scott Jr., So. Miami*
Masterson, Wm. P., Coral Gables
May, Bruce M., Miami Beach
May, Philip S., Jacksonville
Merrill, Ron, Hialeah
Merritt, Robert M., Miami
Miami Dade Junior College Library
Miami Edison Senior Library
Miami Public Library*
Miami Senior High School Library
Miami Springs Library
Mickler, Mrs. Thomas, Chuluota
Mileo Photo Supply, Inc., Coral Gables
Miller, Raymond M., Miami*
Mills, Charles A., Jr., Miami
Minear, Mrs. L. V., Jupiter
Minshew, Rev. A. P., Ft. Myers
Mission of Nombre de Dies, St. Augustine
Mitchell, Leeds, Jr., Coral Gables
Monk, J. Floyd, Miami
Monroe County Public Library, Key West
Morgan, Stewart M., Jr., St. Thomas, V.I.
Moseley, Guyon E., Miami Shores
Moulds, Andrew J., Coral Gables
Moulds, Mrs. Andrew J., Coral Gables
Muir, William W., Miami
Muller, Dr. Leonard R., Miami*
Munroe, Wirth M., Miami*
Nelson, Mrs. Erle B., Miami
Newberry Library, Chicago, IIIl.
Nordt, Mrs. John C., Miami
North Miami High School Library
O'Brien, Mrs. Flora E., Miami
Old Island Restoration Foundation, Inc.,
Pace, Mrs. Johnson H., Miami*
Pace, Rev. Johnson H., Jr., Jacksonville
Padgett, Inman, Coral Gables
Page-Krofinger, M. Christy, Miami
Palm Beach County Historical Society
Pancoast, Lester C., Miami
Pardo, Mrs. Ramiro V., Miami
Parker, Alfred B., Miami
Parker, Theo. R., Freeport, Grand Bahama
Parmelee, Dean, Miami
Patton, Mrs. Dan O., Miami
Pedersen, George C., Perrine
Peirce, Gertrude C., Miami
Pendleton, Robert S., Ft. Lauderdale
Perrine, William, Hialeah
Peters, Mrs. Thelma, Miami*
Platt, T. Beach, Miami
Porter, Jack E., Mt. Prospect, Ill.
Powell, Mrs. Robert A., Miami
Prahl, William, Miami
Prevatt, Preston G., Miami
Price, Gaylord Leland, Miami
Prior, Leon 0., Miami
Proby, Mrs. Kathryn H., Miami
Quigley, Ellen N., Miami Beach
Rasmussen, Dr. Edwin L., Ft. Myers**
Reed, Miss Elizabeth Ann, Delray Beach
Reeder, James G., Miami Shores
Reynolds, Mrs. Caroline P., Coral Gables
Reynolds, Stan J., Miami
Rhodes, Mrs. W. H., Miami
Rigby, Ernest E., Miami
Rivett, Lois C., Miami
Riviera Beach Library
Robb, Louis M., Miami Beach
Rollins College Library, Winter Park
Ross, Mrs. Richard F., Boca Raton
Santanello, M. C., Kendall
Sapp, Alfred E., Miami
Saunders, Dr. Lewis M., Miami
Sawyer, Clifton A., Warwick, R.I.
Schilling, Louis C., Miami
Schooley, Harry, Ft. Myers
Schubert, Wenzel J., Miami
Seley, Ray B., Jr., Miami
Sellati, Kenneth N. G., Kendall
Sessa, Dr. Frank B., Miami
Sevelius, E. A., Miami
Shappee, Dr. Nathan D., Miami
Shaw, G. N., Miami
Shaw, Miss Luelle, Miami*
Simmonite, Henry G., Coral Gables
Simmons, Glen, Homestead
Simonsen, J. B., Miami
Sisters of St. Joseph, St. Augustine
Skill, Pearl T., Homestead
Slaughter, Dr. Frank G., Jacksonville
Smiley, Mrs. Nora K., Key West
Smith, Gilbert B., Coral Gables
Smith, McGregor, Jr., Miami
Snodgrass, Miss Dena, Jacksonville
Southern Illinois University Libraries,
South Miami Public Library
Southwest Miami High Library
Sparks, Mrs. Charles, Fortville, Ind.
Spelman, Henry M., III, Boston, Mass.
State Historical Soc. of Wisconsin
State University of Iowa Libraries
Stecke, Jack, Miami
Stedman, Carling H., Miami
Stetson, John B. Univ. Library, Deland
Stranahan, Mrs. Frank, Ft. Lauderdale*
Stripling Insurance Agency, Hialeah
Stuart, Mrs. Jack F., Miami
Sumner, Ralph M., Wauchula
Swanson, Ralph, Miami
Talley, Howard J., Miami
Tampa Public Library
Teachers' Professional Library, Miami
Tebeau, Dr. Charlton W., Coral Gables*
Tebeau, Mrs. Violet H., Coral Gables
Ten Eick, Mrs. M. Nunez, Tampa*
Tennessee State Library and Archives
Tharp, Dr. Charles Doren, So. Miami*
Thomas, D. Vaughn, Miami
Thompson, Fran, Miami
Thompson, John W., Coral Gables
Thompson, T. Roger, Miami
Thornton, Mrs. Edmund A., Miami
Thrift, Dr. Charles T., Jr., Lakeland
Tibbetts, Alden M., Miami
Tietze, Robert A., Coral Gables
Tietze, Mrs. Robert A., Coral Gables
Tio, Aurelio, Santurce, P.R.
Tottenhoff, John P., Miami
Turner, Vernon W., Homestead
Tussey, Mrs. Ethel W., Miami
Tuttle, Dorothy B., Miami
Tuttle, Leonard M., Miami
Tuttle, M. Glenn, Miami
Ullman, John, Jr., Ft. Lauderdale
University of Florida Library
University of Miami Library
University of South Florida Library
University of Tampa Library
University of Tennessee Library
Vildostegui, Matias M., Coral Gables
Wainwright, Mrs. Alice, Miami
Wallace, Lew, Jr., Miami
Walsh, Mrs. Charles H., Winter Haven
Waranch, Joseph, Baltimore, Md.
Warner, Miss Elmina, Miami
Warner, William C., Miami
Warner, Mrs. William C., Miami
Warwick, G. E., Coral Gables
Washington, James G., Miami
Waters, Fred M., Jr., Coral Gables
Watson, C. J., Miami
Weintraub, Mrs. Sydney, Miami
Wellman, Wayne E., Miami
Wenner, Henry S., Jr., Miami
Wentworth, T. T., Jr., Pensacola
West Indies Reference Library,
Kingston, Jamaica, B.W.I.
Wetterer, Miss Mary T., Bal Harbour
Wheeler, B. B., Lake Placid
White, Richard M., Miami
White, Robert R., Miami
Whitmer, Dr. Kenneth S., Miami
Whyte, A. N., Coral Gables
Wight, William S., Coral Gables
Williams, Dr. H. Franklin, Coral Gables*
Williams, John B., Miami
Wilson, Albert B., Miami
Wilson, Gaines R., Miami**
Wilson, Mrs. Gaines R., Miami
Wilson, George M., Coral Gables
Wilson, Peyton L., Miami*
Wilson, Miss Virginia, Miami
Wimbish, Paul C., Miami Beach
Withers, James G., Coral Gables
Withers, Wayne E., Coral Gables
Witmer, Penn C., Miami
Wolf, Fred, Sr., Hallandale
Wolfe, Thomas L., Miami
Woodman, Jim, Key Biscayne
Woore, A. Meredith, Miami*
Wright, Mrs. Victor A., Miami Shores
Wylie, W. Gill, Jr., Palm Beach
Adams, Wilton L., Coral Gables
Ansley, J. A., Ft. Myers
Anthony, Roscoe T., Palm Beach
Archer, Ben, Homestead
Atmus, Rudolph E., E. Longmeadow, Mass.
Ayars, Erling E., Miami
Baber, Adin, Kansas, Ill.*
Bailey, Mrs. Ernest H., Coral Gables
Baker, Charles H., Jr., Miami*
Barge, Dr. Hubert A., Miami
Barry, Msgr. William, P.A., Miami Beach
Barton, Alfred I., Surfside
Baskin, M. A., Coral Gables
Beardsley, Jim E., Clewiston
Beare, Mrs. Richard, Miami
Beckham, W. H., Jr., Coral Gables
Bellous, C. M., Sr., Opa-Locka
Bergstrom, William C., Miami
Bischoff, William D., Miami
Blackburn, Elmer E., Miami
Blumberg, David, Coral Gables
Bradfield, E. S., Miami Beach**
Brannen, H. S., Miami Springs
Brody, Mrs. Margaret E., Key Biscayne
Brunstetter, Roscoe, Coral Gables
Buhler, Mrs. J. E., Miami
Bush, R. S., Miami
Butts, Mrs. Halleck A., Miami
Cameron, D. Pierre G., Miami
Campbell, Terence G., Miami Beach
Chase, Randall, 2nd, Sanford
Clark, George T., Miami
Coconut Grove Library
Combs, Walter H., Jr., Miami*
Combs, Mrs. Walter H., Sr., Miami*
Corliss, C. J., Miami Shores
Cotton, E. L, Miami
Cowell, Edward H., M.D., Coral Gables
Craighead, Dr. F. C., Homestead
Crane, Mrs. Francis V., Marathon
Crow, Mrs. Lon Worth, Miami*
Cumbie, Edward E., Homestead
Davis, Hal D., Coral Gables
Dee, William V., Miami*
De Nies, Charles F., Hudson, Mich.
DuPuis, John G., Jr., Miami
Dykes, Robert J., Miami
Embry, Tally H., Miami
Fascell, Dante B., Coral Gables
Feibelman, Herbert U., Miami
Ferendino, Andrew J., Miami
Field, Dr. Henry, Miami
Florence, Robert S., Miami
Freeman, Edison S., Miami
Frohock, Mrs. Jack, No. Miami
Fuchs, Richard W., Florida City
Fuller, Walter P., Clearwater
Gardner, Jack R., Miami
Gardner, Mrs. R. C., Miami*
Gates, Hiram W., Miami
Gibson, Henry C., Jenkintown, Pa.
Gibson, Mrs. Walter C., Miami*
Gifford, Mrs. John C., Miami*
Gingery, Mrs. C. Louis, Miami
Glorie, Rev. John W., Miami
Goldweber, S., Perrine
Graham, Ernest R., Hialeah
Graham, William A., Miami Lakes
Green, Herschel V., Coral Gables
Griffen, F. S., Miami
Guilmartin, James L., Miami
Haas, C. T., Miami Beach
Hancock, E. M., Miami Beach
Hanks, Bryan, Ft. Worth, Texas*
Harris, Miss Julia Fillmore, Stuart*
Harvard College Library
Hawkins, Roy H., Miami
Haycock, Ira C., Miami
Head-Beckham Insurance Agency, Inc.,
Hellier, Walter R., Ft. Pierce
Herren, Norman A., Everglades
Hogan, Francis L., Miami
Holland, Hon. Spessard L.*
Hopkins, Dr. Oliver B., Miami
Houser, Roosevelt C., Miami
Hudson, Senator F. M., Miami*
Hughes, Mrs. Edomon A., Coral Gables
Humphreys, Mrs. D. M., Ft. Lauderdale
Irwin, Frank, Jr., So. Miami
Jamaica Inn, Key Biscayne
Johnston, Thos. McE., Miami
Jones, Archie L., Miami
Joseph, Stanley C., Homestead
Kendall, Harold E., Goulds
Kent, Mrs. Frederick A., Miami
Kerr, James B., Ft. Lauderdale*
Key West Art & Historical Soc.
Kistler, The C. W. Company, Miami
Krome, Mrs. Wm. J., Homestead*
Leon County Public Library, Tallahassee
Lindgren, Mrs. M. E., Miami
Lipp, Morris N., Miami Beach
Longshore, Frank, Miami
McCarthy, Don L., Nassau, Bahamas
McKey, Robert M., Miami
McKibben, Dr. Willian W., Coral Gables
McSwain, Dr. Gordon H., Arcadia
MacDonald, C. A., Surfside
MacNeill, Malcolm G., Miami
Mangels, Dr. Celia C., Miami Shores
Mayes, Mrs. C. R., Jr., Pompano Beach
Mead, D. Richard, Miami
Meisel, Max, Miami Beach
Melrose, Mary Jane, Miami
Merrick, Mrs. Eunice P., Coral Gables*
Mershon, M. L, Miami
Miami Beach Public Library
Modisette, Col. Welton M., Coral Gables
Molt, Fawdrey, Key Biscayne
Montague, Mrs. Margaret N., No. Miami
Morison, Horace, Boston, Mass.
Moseley, Albert B., Daytona Beach
Mudd, Dr. Richard D., Saginaw, Mich.
Nettleton, Danforth H., Miami
Newman, Leonard R., Miami Beach
Newton, Jessie Porter, Miami
Norris, Hardgrove, Miami
Oglesby, R. M., Bartow
Otto, Mrs. Thomas O., Miami Beach
Peck, C. C., Coral Gables
Paget, Richard L., Miami
Pancoast, Russell T., Miami
Pearce, Mrs. Dixon, Miami
Pendergast, Mrs. Eleanor L., Miami*
Pepper, Senator Claude, Miami
Pepper, Frank J., Jr., Miami
Philbrick, W. L., Miami
Philpitt, Marshall S., Jr., Coral Gables
Pierce, C. L., Ft. Lauderdale
Pitt, Gerard, Miami*
Plowden, Gene, Miami
Polk County Historical Library, Bartow
Preston, J. E. Ted., Miami
Raap, Dr. Gerard, Miami
Rader, Earle M., Miami
Reynolds, C. K., Jr., Miami Beach
Richmond, Charles M., Miami
Roberts, R. B., Jr., Miami
Rosner, George W., Coral Gables*
Saye, Roland A., Jr., Miami Beach
Schultz, Donald A., Miami
Shank, H. W., Coral Gables
Shaw, Henry O., Miami
Smith, Charles H., Miami
Smith, McGregor, Miami
Snyder, Dr. Clifford C., Coral Gables
Sokola, Anton, Miami
Spaulding, Mrs. E. E., Miami
Spence, Sam, Miami
Spinks, Mrs. Elizabeth J., Miami*
Stanford, Dr. Henry King, Miami
St. Augustine Historical Society
Steel, William C., Miami
Stiles, Wade, South Miami**
Straight, Dr. William M., Miami
Sumwalt, G. Robert, New York, N.Y.
Sutton, Myron D., Alexandria, Va.
Teboe, Ray M., Miami
Thomas, Arden H., So. Miami
Town, Miss Eleanor F., Coral Gables
Towne, Robert R., Delray Beach
Tritton, Mrs. James, Opa Locka
Tuttle, Harry E., Miami
University of Pennsylvania Library
Vance, Mrs. Herbert O., Coral Gables*
Vanderpool, Fred W., Miami*
Van Orsdel, C. D., Coral Gables
Walker, Mrs. Catharine C., Miami
West Palm Beach Public Library
White, Dorothy, Miami Beach
Whitten, George E., Miami Beach
Wilson, Irving A., No. Miami Beach
Wipprecht, Mrs. Marion H., Coral Gables
Wolfe, Miss Rosalie L., Miami
Wooten, William H., No. Miami
Zim, Mrs. Sonia Bleeker, Tavernier
Zimmerman, Percy, Miami