Front Cover
 Cape Florida light
 A dash through the Everglades
 Recollections of early Miami
 Early pioneers of South Florid...
 William Selby Harney: Indian...
 Treasurer’s report
 Roster of members
 Back Cover

Title: Tequesta
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00101446/00009
 Material Information
Title: Tequesta
Physical Description: Serial
Language: English
Creator: Historical Association of Southern Florida
Publisher: (multiple)
Publication Date: 1949
Copyright Date: 2010
 Record Information
Bibliographic ID: UF00101446
Volume ID: VID00009
Source Institution: Historical Museum of Southern Florida
Holding Location: Florida International University: Florida History and Heritage
Rights Management: All rights reserved by the source institution and holding location.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 2096319
lccn - 42015131
issn - 0363-3705


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Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
    Cape Florida light
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
        Page 11
        Page 12
    A dash through the Everglades
        Page 13
        Page 14
        Page 15
        Page 16
        Page 17
        Page 18
        Page 19
        Page 20
        Page 21
        Page 22
        Page 23
        Page 24
        Page 25
        Page 26
        Page 27
        Page 28
        Page 29
        Page 30
        Page 31
        Page 32
        Page 33
        Page 34
        Page 35
        Page 36
        Page 37
        Page 38
        Page 39
        Page 40
        Page 41
        Page 42
    Recollections of early Miami
        Page 43
        Page 44
        Page 45
        Page 46
        Page 47
        Page 48
        Page 49
        Page 50
        Page 51
        Page 52
        Page 53
        Page 54
        Page 55
        Page 56
        Page 57
        Page 58
        Page 59
        Page 60
    Early pioneers of South Florida
        Page 61
        Page 62
        Page 63
        Page 64
        Page 65
        Page 66
        Page 67
        Page 68
        Page 69
        Page 70
        Page 71
        Page 72
    William Selby Harney: Indian fighter
        Page 73
        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
    Treasurer’s report
        Page 82
    Roster of members
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 87
        Page 88
    Back Cover
        Page 89
        Page 90
Full Text


Editor: Charlton W. Tebeau

1 9 4 9



Cape Florida Light 5
Charles M. Brookfield

A Dash Through the Everglades 13
Alonzo Church

Recollections of Early Miami 43
J. K. Dorn

Early Pioneers of South Florida 61
Henry 1. Wagner

William Selby Harney: Indian Fighter 73
Oliver Griswold

Contributors 81

Treasurer's Report 82

Roster of Members 83


telest ^t, is published annually by the Historical Association of Southern Florida
and the University of Miami as a bulletin of the University. Subscrip-
tion $2.00. Communications should be addressed to the Corresponding Secretary of the
Society, Post Office Box 537, Miami 4, Florida. Neither the Association nor the Uni-
versity assumes responsibility for statements of fact or of opinion made by the contributors.



This Page Blank in Original
Source Document

Photograph, Cortey of JoMhn D, Pennekamp of the Miami Herald

This Page Blank in Original
Source Document

Cape Florida Light

Along the southeast Florida coast no more cheery or pleasing sight glad-
dened the heart of the passing mariner of 1826 than the new lighthouse and
little dwelling at Cape Florida. Beyond the glistening beach of Key Bis-
cayne the white tower rose sixty-five feet against a bright green backdrop of
luxuriant tropical foliage. Who could foresee that this peaceful scene would
be the setting for events of violence, suffering and tragedy?
At night the tower's gleaming white eye followed the mariner as he passed
the dangerous Florida Reef, keeping watch to the limit of its visibility.
When in distress or seeking shelter from violent gales the light's friendly
eye guided him into Cape Florida Channel to safe anchorage in the lee of
Key Biscayne. From the beginning of navigation in the New World, vessels
had entered the Cape channel to find water and wood on the nearby main.
Monendez in 1567 must have passed within the Cape when he brought the
first Jesuit missionary, Brother Villareal, to Biscayne Bay.
Two centuries later, during the English occupation, Bernard Romans,
assistant to His Majesty's Surveyor General, in recommending "stations for
cruisers within the Florida Reef", wrote:
"The first of these is at Cayo Biscayno, in lat. 25' 35' N. Here we enter
within the reef, from the northward . . you will not find less than
three fathoms anywhere within till you come abreast the south end of the
Key where there is a small bank of 11 feet only, give the key a good birth,
for there is a large flat stretching from it. At the south end of the Key very
good water is obtainable by digging . . at the watering place on the
key is also an excellent place for careening of vessels, not exceeding 10 feet
draught. All these advantageous circumstances . . make this an
excellent place for cruizers to watch every vessel bound northward. In the
year 1773, I came a passage from Mississippi, on board the schooner
Liberty, commanded by Capt. John Hunt. We had the misfortune to be over-
set at sea, and I conducted the wreck into this place, when having lost our


boats and caboose, with every other thing from off the deck, we nailed to-
gether three half hogsheads, in which a man and a boy went ashore . .
"At this place there is a vast abundance and variety of fish, both in creeks
and outside at sea, particularly groopers are in great plenty, king-fish,
Spanish mackerel and Barrows are also often caught towing; and if you
have one or two good hunters aboard, you may always be provided with
plenty of venison, turkies and bear meat. There are . . deer on the
key and sometimes bear; in winter duck and teal abound in the creeks;
turtle is very plenty; . . no fish is poisonous on the Florida shore,
not even the amber-fish; but on the Bahama side, precaution is necessary;
and the loggerhead turtle is never rank of taste here."
But neither the religious Spaniard nor the aggressive Briton left any
trace of his former presence on Florida's southeast coast. It remained for
the New World's "Infant Republic" to erect the first substantial structure.
The Congress of the United States on May 7, 1822 appropriated $8,000 for
building a lighthouse on Cape Florida. In April, 1824 an additional $16,000
was added by Congress for the same purpose. Collector Dearborn, of Boston
contracted with Samuel B. Lincoln "for a tower sixty-five feet high with
solid walls of brick, five feet thick at the base, graduated to two feet at the
top." Noah Humphreys, of Hingham, was appointed to oversee the materials
and work. He certified the lighthouse and dwellings as finished according
to contract December 17, 1825. The three acre site deeded by Mr. Waters
S. Davis, Sr. was a gift to the government.
For more than ten years the faithful keepers of the light lived, with
their families, a lonely but peaceful life at the Cape punctuated by periodic
cruises to Key West, their only contact with civilization. But in 1835 the
outbreak of the Second Seminole War brought terror to the scattered settlers
of the southeast coast, The Cooley (one source has it "Colee") family on
the north side of New River were the first to be massacred. Two families on
the south side of the river escaped southward spreading the alarm to the
mouth of the Miami River, where William English, of South Carolina, em-
ployed about twenty-five hands on his farm. R. Duke, with his family,
lived about three miles up the river. His son, Capt. John H. Duke, sur-
vived the Indian attack and recorded the details:
"After midnight in December 1836, we were called up by two negro men
from the farm below, giving the alarm that the Indians were massacreing
the people in the neighborhood. Everybody left their homes in boats and
canoes for the Biscayne (Cape Florida) light-house. On arrival there a


guard was formed and kept until vessels could be obtained to carry the
families to Key West. Two men, one white by the name of Thompson, one
colored, name I don't know, volunteered to keep the light going until assis-
tance could be sent there."
These two heroes, one white, the other a nameless, aged negro, did not
have long to wait-the first for indescribable suffering and torture, the second
for death. This story is best told by assistant keeper John W. B. Thompson,
himself, in a letter:
"On the twenty-third of July, 1836, about 4 P.M., as I was going from
the kitchen to the dwelling house, I discovered a large body of Indians
within twenty yards of me, back of the kitchen. I ran for the Lighthouse,
and called out to the old negro man that was with me to run, for the Indians
were near. At that moment they discharged a volley of rifle balls, which
cut my clothes and hat and perforated the door in many places. We got in,
and as I was turning the key the savages had hold of the door.. I stationed
the negro at the door, with orders to let me know if they attempted to break
in. I then took my three muskets, which were loaded with ball and buck-
shot, and went to the second window. Seeing a large body of them opposite
the dwelling house, I discharged my muskets in succession among them,
which put them in some confusion; they then, for the second time, began
their horrid yells, and in a minute no sash of glass was left at the window,
for they vented their rage at that spot. I fired at them from some of the
other windows, and from the top of the house; in fact, I fired whenever I
could get an Indian for a mark. I kept them from the house until dark.
They then poured in a heavy fire at all the windows and lantern; that was
the time they set fire to the door and window even with the ground. The
window was boarded up with plank and filled with stone inside; but the
flames spread fast, being fed with yellow pine wood. Their balls had per-
forated the tin tanks of oil, consisting of two hundred and twenty-five gal-
lons. My bedding, clothing, and in fact everything I had was soaked in oil.
I stopped at the door until driven away by the flames.
"I then took a keg of gunpowder, my balls and one musket to the top of
the house, then went below and began to cut away the stairs about halfway up
from the bottom. I had difficulty in getting the old negro up the space I
had already cut; but the flames now drove me from my labor, and I retreated
to the top of the house. I covered over the scuttle that leads to the lantern,
which kept the fire from me for sometime. At last the awful moment arrived;
the cracking flames burst around me.


"The savages at the same time began their hellish yells. My poor negro
looked at me with tears in his eyes, but he could not speak. We went out
of the lantern and down on the edge of the platform, two feet wide. The
lantern was now full of flame, the lamps and glasses bursting and flying in
all directions, my clothes on fire, and to move from the place where I was
would be instant death from their rifles. My flesh was roasting, and to put
an end to my horrible suffering I got up and threw the keg of gunpowder
down the scuttle-instantly it exploded and shook the tower from top to
bottom. It had not the desired effect of blowing me into eternity, but it
threw down the stairs and all the woodenwork near the top of the house; it
damped the fire for a moment, but it soon blazed as fierce as ever. The
negro man said he was wounded, which was the last word he spoke. By this
time I had received some wounds myself; and finding no chance for my
life, for I was roasting alive, I took the determination to jump off. I got
up, went inside the iron railing, recommending my soul to God, and was on
the point of going ahead foremost on the rock below when something dic-
tated to me to return and lie down again. I did so, and in two minutes the
fire fell to the bottom of the house. It is a remarkable circumstance that
not one ball struck me when I stood up outside the railing although they
were flying all around me like hailstones. I found the old negro man dead,
being shot in several places, and literally roasted. A few minutes after the
fire fell a stiff breeze sprung up from the southward, which was a great
blessing to me. I had to lie where I was, for I could not walk, having re-
ceived six rifle balls, three in each foot.

"The Indians, thinking me dead, left the lighthouse and set fire to the
dwelling place, kitchen and other outhouses, and began to carry off their
plunder to the beach. They took all the empty barrels, the drawers of the
bureaus, and in fact everything that would act as a vessel to hold anything.
My provisions were in the lighthouse, except a barrel of flour, which they
took off. The next morning they hauled out of the lighthouse, by means of
a pole, the tin that composed the oil tanks, no doubt to make grates to manu-
facture the county root into what we call arrow root. After loading my
little sloop, about 10 or 12 went into her; the rest took to the beach to meet
at the other end of the island. This happened, as I judge, about 2:00 a.m.
My eyes, being much affected, prevented me from knowing their actual force,
but I judge there were from 40 to 50, perhaps more. I was now almost as
bad off as before; a burning fever on me, my feet shot to pieces, no clothes
to cover me, nothing to eat or drink, a hot sun overhead, a dead man by my


side, no friend near or any to expect, and placed between 70 and 80 feet
from the earth and no chance of getting down. My situation was truly hor-
rible. About 12 o'clock I thought I could perceive a vessel not far off. I
took a piece of the old negro's trousers that had escaped the flames by being
wet with blood and made a signal. Some time in the afternoon I saw two
boats with my sloop in tow coming to the landing. I had no doubt but they
were Indians, having seen my signal; but it proved to be the boats of the
United States schooner Motto, Captain Armstrong, with a detachment of
seamen and marines under the command of Lieutenant Lloyd, of the sloop-
of-war Concord. They had retaken my sloop, after the Indians had stripped
her of her sails and rigging, and everything of consequence belonging to her.
"They informed me they heard my explosion 12 miles off, and ran down
to my assistance, but did not expect to find me alive. These gentlemen did
all in their power to relieve me, but, night coming on, they returned on
board the Motto, after assuring me of their assistance in the morning. Next
morning, Monday, July 5, three boats landed, among them Captain Cole, of
the schooner Pee Dee, from New York. They made a kite during the night
to get a line to me, but without effect, they then fired twine from their mus-
kets, made fast to a ramrod, which I received, and hauled up a tailblock and
made fast round an iron stanchion, rove the twine through the block, and
they below, by that means, rove a two-inch rope and hoisted up two men,
who soon landed me on terra firma. I must state here that the Indians had
made a ladder by lashing pieces of wood across the lightning rod, near 40
feet from the ground, as if to have my scalp, nolens volens. This happened
on the fourth. After I got on board the Motto every man from the captain
to the cook tried to alleviate my sufferings. On the seventh I was received in
the military hospital, through the politeness of Lieutenant Alvord of the
fourth Regiment of United States Infantry. He has done everything to
make my situation as comfortable as possible. I must not omit here to re-
turn my thanks to the citizens of Key West, generally, for their sympathy
and kind offers of anything I would wish that it was in their power to be-
stow. Before I left Key West two balls were extracted, and one remains in
my right leg, but since I am under the care of Dr. Ramsey, who has paid
every attention to me, he will know best whether to extract it or not. These
lines are written to let my friends know that I am still in the land of living,
and am now in Charleston, S. C., where every attention is paid me. Although
a cripple, I can eat my allowance and walk without the use of a cane."


Skullduggery and collusion were brought to light by the partial destruc-
tion of the light-house. When the collector at Key West visited Cape Florida
after the Indian attack, he found the walls of the tower to be hollow from
the base upwards instead of solid as called for in the contract. Apparently
no charges were placed against those responsible.
The destruction of the light was a great handicap to the rapidly growing
commerce of the young Republic. Soon, too soon, the government attempted
reconstruction and repair. General Jesup having accepted the surrender of
most of the Seminole Chiefs, the war was believed to be at an end. Accord-
ingly, under date of June 20, 1837, Winslow Lewis, of Boston, received a
letter from Mr. Pleasonton, the Fifth Auditor of the Treasury, inquiring "on
what terms and within what period, he would undertake to repair or rebuild
the light-house at Cape Florida; suggesting at the same time, that the in-
terest of commerce and navigation required the work to be done as speedily
as possible."
Lewis's terms were accepted within ten days of the inquiry "in considera-
tion of the importance to navigation of having the lighthouse lighted in the
shortest time."
In July a fully equipped vessel sailed from Boston. Aboard were a
superintendent, all necessary workmen and materials. Touching at Key
West, the vessel took on board Mr. Dubose, keeper of the former light, who
was to superintend repairs for the Government, and take charge upon com-
While at Key West Deputy Collector Gordon advised Lewis's agent that
in his opinion the lighthouse could not be repaired at this time due to the
resumption of hostilities by the Indians; that even if the workmen succeeded
in their undertaking the Indians would destroy the building immediately.
But, nevertheless, the vessel proceeded to Cape Florida only to find "that
hostile Indians were in entire possession of the adjacent country" and had
recently murdered Captain Walton, Commander of the light vessel at Carys-
fort Reef. Dubose protested against any attempt to begin work and declared
he would not remain as keeper if the lighthouse were repaired but would
leave with the workmen. Faced with this situation, Knowlton, Lewis' agent,
believed it to the advantage of the Government to abandon the attempt at
repairs. He returned with the vessel to Boston.
Lewis presented a claim for expenses to Congress. The Committee of
Claims considered his account, totaling $1,781.68, not extravagant, and rec-
ommended the introduction of a bill to reimburse him. In the Report, the


Committee observed: "It is evident that the loss of the claimant was occa-
sioned by his laudable alacrity in attempting to execute the contract on his
part. Had he been less prompt . . the resumption of hostilities by
the savages would have been known at Boston before the sailing of the vessel,
and the loss which he sustained consequently avoided."
From 1838 to 1842 the war scarred light tower at Cape Florida was an
important landmark and rendezvous for the nine vessels of the U. S. Navy's
Florida Squadron. Under John T. McLaughlin, Lieut. Com'g., the Squadron
included the "Campbell" and "Otsego" of the Revenue Cutter Service, now
the U. S. Coast Guard. Attached to this force were 140 canoes used for ex-
penditions into the Everglades. Among officers of the Squadron who took
part in the Okeechobee Expedition, was Passed Midshipman George H.
Preble, later Rear Admiral Preble of Civil War fame. Marines from the
Squadron garrisoned Fort Dallas on the Miami River across the Bay.
At the Cape itself, Lieut. Col. William S. Harney based his 2nd Dragoons,
the famous 2nd Cavalry. Here Harney organized his successful Everglades
Expedition that destroyed the power of Chief Chekika, dreaded leader of the
Caloosahatchee and Indian Key massacres.
Congress had appropriated $10,000 by March 3, 1837, and included
$13,000 more August 10, 1846, to rebuild the lighthouse tower. The work
was finally completed and the light in operation in 1846. R. Duke was ap-
pointed keeper.
But marine architects were now designing faster ships-clippers carry-
ing a great press of sail, and of deeper draught. It was necessary, for their
safe navigation, to lay a course at a greater distance to clear the shoals of
the Florida Reef. Aids to navigation must be seen from further off shore.
In 1855 the old light tower was elevated and "fitted with the most approved
illuminating apparatus." This is the present tower-95 feet from the base
to the center of the lantern.
Destroyed in 1861, the lighting apparatus was replaced and in opera-
tion in 1867.
At the completion of the steel light on Fowey Rock, historic Cape Florida
Light was discontinued June 16, 1878. The friendly, guiding eye gleamed
no more. The tower and property were sold in 1915 to Mr. James Deering
of Chicago, Illinois.

Romans, Bernard-A Concise Natural History of East and West Florida, etc. New
York, 1775.
House of Representatives-Act approved May 7, 1822.
House of Representatives-Act Approved April 2, 1824.


House of Representatives-Act of March 10, 1837.
House of Representatives-Report No. 373-25th Congress, Second Session, January
12, 1838.
Records Public Information Division, U. S. Coast Guard, Washington, D. C.
Hollingsworth, Tracy-History of Dade County-Miami, 1936.
McNicolI, Robert E.-The Caloosa Village Tequesta-Tequesta, Journal of His-
torical Association of Southern Florida, March, 1941.
Duke, John H.-Statement-Pensacola, Dec. 27, 1891 (from U.S.C.G. records).
Munroe and Gilpin-The Commodore's Story-New York, 1930.
Sprague, John T.-Origin, Progress and Conclusion of the Florida War-New
York, 1848,
Rodenbough, Theo. F.-From Everglade to Canyon-New York, 1875.
Griswold, Oliver-Wm. Selby Harney, Indian Fighter-Paper presented at Annual
Meeting, Florida Historical Society, Miami, April 9, 1949.

A Dash through the Everglades


When preparing the Journal of James E. Ingraham's Everglades Explor-
ing Expedition in March-April, 1892, for publication in the 1947 Tequesta
the editor was assisted materially by the sympathetic interest and whole-
hearted cooperation, among others, of one of the last known survivors of the
expedition, Alonzo Church of New Orleans. At the time of the expedition Mr.
Church was a young man of twenty-two, just out of the University of the
South, Suwanee, Tennessee. The experience had made such an impression
on him that he had recorded in narrative form his recollections of the per-
sonal hardships, elements of danger, daily incidents and some of the rough
humor characteristic of the expedition. A few copies of his manuscript were
distributed among his friends.
Mr. Church's narrative is warm, human, personalized and recaptures
more nearly the impressions of the conflict of man against nature when
challenging the Everglades in 1892 than normally would be found in any
official journal. Because of its contribution toward a better understanding
of the hardships suffered by the exploring party the editor is of the opinion
that the narrative will prove to be of special interest to the readers of
In response to our letter to Mr. Church regarding the publication of his
account of the Everglades expedition of 1892, he replied in part as follows:
"Some years ago, I believe in 1939, I visited Miami for the first time
since 1892, but I could not identify the site of the Tuttle home, nor the site
of the camp we made under the cocoanut trees when we emerged from the
Everglades. Where the Tuttle home stood was then, and is now, the heart
of the downtown city district, and where we had camped in a cocoanut
grove, the ground had evidently been filled in, and the shore line altered so
that I could not recognize the place fixed in my, memory. The greatest
change is in Miami Beach and Biscayne Bay, and even now it seems incred-
ible that in such a comparatively short time, the face of nature could be
so altered by man.


"The development of Miami, and the east coast of Florida, seems to me
a striking illustration of the benefits of adequate transportation. Without
railroad transportation, that part of the state would still be comparatively
worthless... .
"I am a native of Florida, and some of my ancestors were identified with
its early history, and I am in a general way familiar with its advance in
civilization, but in no generation of my family was anyone able to foresee
what seems evident now, the direction that progress would take. It requires
the foresight that seems to belong to the 'outsider,' to tell where and when
wealth will be created."
Alonzo Church was born on the Kirkland plantation at Madison, Florida,
on June 27, 1870, the son of Captain William Lee Church, veteran of the
Confederate Army, and grandson of Alonzo Church who was for years
president of the University of Georgia. His mother was Laura Randolph
of Tallahassee and his maternal grandmother was Laura Duval, daughter of
Governor William P. Duval, first civil territorial governor of Florida. His
father having died while he was quite young, he was virtually adopted by
the Whitner family of Sanford, Florida, to whom he was related. He entered
the University of the South at Suwanee, Tennessee, but left before his
graduation to become an employee in the office of the construction engineer
of the South Florida Railroad at Sanford. In 1892 when Mr. James E.
Ingraham, President of the South Florida Railroad, proposed an exploration
of the Everglades at the suggestion of Henry B. Plant, Church as an em-
ployee of the Railroad was invited to accompany the party as compassman
for the expedition.
A year or so following his Everglades adventures, Alonzo Church left
the South Florida Railroad to join the fire insurance business with friends
in Louisiana and Mississippi. He established his home in New Orleans
where he was married in 1901 and where he has since lived except for brief
periods. In 1933 he moved to New York City to become vice president
and manager of the Eastern Department of the Inter-Ocean Reinsurance
Company, and in 1940 he retired and returned to New Orleans.

A Dash through the Everglades
being a full and accurate account of the strange things seen
by a party crossing that place, with a very interesting account
of their adventures and a record of the great hominy eating
done on that journey, all by an observer.
From all who read the following pages, the author begs that charity
which is said to cover a multitude of sins . The narrative was written
only for those who had a personal interest in the author, and therefore has
more of the "ego" than would otherwise be allowable. It is a record of his
feelings, ideas and fancies under circumstances which he has endeavored
to describe as accurately and clearly as he could. There are no exaggerations
as to facts and what little sentiment may be discovered is as natural to the
author as the hair on his head.
Trusting to Providence, the amiability of the reader and the innocence
of my motive, I say proceed, reader, if you still have a mind to.
The members of the party forming the Everglades Exploring Expedition
were: James E. Ingraham, Sanford, Fla., president of the South Florida
Railroad, secretary of the expedition; Sydney 0. Chase, Sanford, guest of
Mr. Ingraham's and official photographer; W. R. Moses, secretary, who kept
the official journal; John W. Newman, engineer and surveyor and captain
of the party; Alonzo Church, Sanford, compassman; D. M. Baker, Orange
Home, Fla., levelman; A. W. Clarke, Boston, Mass.; W. E. Gradick and G. E.
Matthieux, Geneva, Fla.; J. E. Minchin, Chipley; Wesley Boyd, Robert Dean,
H. W. Lucky and W. M. Wilson, Fort Myers; P. N. Handley, Lewisburg, West
Virginia; J. T. Anderson, S. L. Caruthers, T. C. Shepard and T. N. Sutton,
Hawkinsville, Georgia; and two colored cooks, Jeff Bookman and Reece
Livingstone, both of Sanford, Fla.
The "Everglades" was always associated in my mind with Seminole
Indians, plenty of deer, turkey, fish and all kinds of game usually found


in the wild and undeveloped sections of our State, besides being endowed
with that glamour that unexplored regions shroud themselves in and which
to an ardent fancy have all the attractions that the imagination can bring
The opportunity of joining an expedition for exploring this region was
therefore eagerly embraced despite the advice of friends who had been upon
the border of this country, and the wishes of relatives that I should not run
the risks of such an undertaking.
The plan was to have enough men to carry everything we should need,
in packs, as we knew it would be impracticable to carry horses with us all the
way. This plan necessitated a rigid economy in baggage. For several days
before we left home we were busy calculating the least possible bulk of
blankets, clothes, shoes and all the various articles which each of us wished
to carry along for comfort or convenience. Finally despairing of being able
to make a selection from the many things which my friends knew would be
necessary and which I knew I couldn't take, I put everything aside except
1 single blanket, 1 change of clothes, 3 prs. of socks, 1 extra pair of shoes
and my cheesecloth mosquito bar, to which I afterwards added a piece of
oil cloth to wrap around my pack during the day and to sleep on at night.
Provisions estimated to last our party 12 days had been selected and
carefully packed away in sacks, each sack not to weigh more than 40 lbs.
Our party was armed with 2 shotguns, two Winchester rifles and numerous
pistols besides which we had to carry 2 portable canvas boats, 3 tents, axes,
cooking utensils, etc., to which was added at Fort Myers 2 wooden boats
between 12 and 16 ft. in length.
We left the dock at Port Tampa 11 P.M. the 12th of March, 1892, on
board the S. S. Tarpon bound for Fort Myers, the nearest town to the point
on the edge of the Everglades from which we were to embark. Next morning
when we awoke the Tarpon was going through Boca Grande Pass, the entrance
to Charlotte Harbor from the Gulf, to take the inside passage from there
down to Fort Myers, and steaming steadily southward we caught a fine
view of the magnificent bay we were leaving behind us.
Now and then between the mangrove islands we could catch a glimpse
of the Gulf on our right, while to our left stretched the solid shore line
as far as the eye could see. A fresh breeze was rippling the water but
no disagreeable motion was given the boat because our course lay in a


land-locked channel which enabled us to appreciate the exhilarating effect
of the pure salt air, the shifting scene of water, woods and sandy beach, the
sentinel-like lighthouse, distant and indistinct in the shadow of a cloud-
and then when the cloud rolled by the morning light flashed upon its white
walls, gleaming brightly and showing its outline sharply against the sky.
The Tarpon stopped a few minutes at St. James City, a large and fashion-
able hotel on the south end of Pine Island, and there took in tow 2 sail boats
for the use of a party of fishermen who were anxious to go faster than the
wind would carry them. As the steamer left the dock the sail boats, which
lay around the corner of the wharf and at right angle to the steamer, became
entangled in the fender piles and after filling full of water one of them
broke loose and much to the grief of those on board who were to use her,
was left behind.
We stopped next at Punta Rassa where most of the cattle raised in South
Florida are shipped and where the Cuban and Key West cable comes ashore.
From there we went up the Caloosahatchee to Fort Myers. The river as far
as Fort Myers is as majestic as the Mississippi, never less than 3 miles wide,
with quite a strong current, and back of the mangroves, bordered with what
seems a heavy forest.
The channel, however, is crooked and very narrow and it is difficult
for vessels drawing more than 5 ft. of water to come up to Fort Myers. It
was Sunday when we arrived and as the steamship was to lie at the wharf
all night we decided to stay on board her; indeed, the hotel was so crowded
with tourists that we were fortunate not to be thrown on the tender mercies
of the town for a night's lodging, where I am sure we would have fared
Fort Myers is on the south bank of the Caloosahatchee and during the
Seminole war and for some time afterwards was garrisoned by the govern-
ment. Some of the old concrete houses, built for officers' quarters, still re-
main, and many of the palms planted by the soldiers along the river bank
now beautify the place by their stately presence and furnish shade and cocoa-
nuts to their owners. The town has about 1000 inhabitants, is handsomely
situated on ground 8 or 10 feet above the river, is regularly laid out in broad
streets. In winter it has a delightful climate. Semi-tropical and some trop-
ical fruits grow luxuriantly protected by the broad river from the cold north-
west winds.
The afternoon we spent inspecting mango orchards, avocado pear trees,
etc., and the beautiful growth of bamboo to be seen at this place, after which


we returned somewhat leg weary to our steamer. We sat down to a hearty
supper and then occupied the evening on the upper deck of the steamer gazing
at the full moon, at the glorious expanse of heaven left open to our view by
the wide river, and at the play of the moonlight upon the water and on the
fringe of palms along its border. The town was silent and the only sound
to be heard was the wind whispering in the rigging overhead or dashing little
wavelets against the side of the vessel. Too much impressed by the beauty
of the scene and the harmonies of Nature's music to say a word, our men
one by one, as Morpheus stole upon them, silently dropped off to bed.

Monday, March 14, 1892.
The boat left next morning [Monday] at six o'clock but the steward
kindly gave us a cup of hot coffee before we got off. When we had loaded
all our belongings on two wagons and dispatched them, with a detail of men,
to the place selected for our first camp, we went to the Hendry House for
breakfast. After the early exercise we had undergone, we did full justice
to it. It was now determined that we should stay a few days at Fort Myers
in order to make the final preparations for our trip and to orientate the men
into camp life and discipline.
The remainder of the morning was spent in making camp as comfortable
as possible, but as our cooks had not exhibited a very high degree of culinary
skill, several of us decided that it would be discretion to take dinner at the
hotel, which we did.
That afternoon we unfolded and tested in a neighboring pond our two
folding canvas boats. We found they worked admirably and the next morn-
ing they, with two wooden boats we had purchased that day, were shipped
by oxen express to await our arrival at Ft. Shackleford on the edge of the
As soon as the canvas boats had been tested I put on my new canvas hunt-
ing coat, leggings and bowies knife and strolled in town with Mr. Sidney
[O. Chase] to take supper at the Hendry House, sport my "tough dyke", ad-
mire Mrs. Jones, the handsome guest, and find out what news there was
floating around.
At the hotel we talked with several men who had been in the employ of
the Disston Drainage Co. and who claimed to be familiar with the border of
the Everglades. They said no man other than an Indian had ever been
through the 'Glades except one "Brewer" who had been arrested for selling


whiskey to the Indians and released on bond, when the Indians in order to
effect his escape had carried him across to Miami.
Of the Everglades they gave conflicting accounts, one man assuring us
that there was nothing to be met with but terrible saw grass which extended
on every side as far as the eye could see. The saw grass, he said, is from 5
to 10 ft. tall, very thick and so stiff and sharp that it cuts like the edge of a
razor; no gloves or clothes can withstand it and where it touches it makes a
wound, which, if not attended to, will shortly become a festering sore.
This saw grass, he claimed, extended all the way across the 'Glades and
would be an impenetrable barrier to our advance. Another account, vouched
for by the author as correct, said that the 'Glades were a labyrinth of bayous
running through a dense jungle of tropical growth, and he assured us if we
attempted to penetrate it we would be lost in the maze wandering around
trying to find a path or channel, and would starve before we could get out.
Of the snakes and alligators to be met with in the 'Glades, a particularly
glowing account was given us. A Mr. Towns assured us that as we advanced
through the saw grass the snakes in front of us crawling out of our way
would make such a crackling in the dry leaves that we would not be able to
hear each other speak; and as for alligators, he said when you get to water
they will "just be so thick you can walk across on their heads." Mosquitoes,
red bugs, alligator fleas, wampee, and a thousand other horrors, known and
unknown, were detailed for our information, until I for one felt very much
inclined to sacrifice the pleasure of wearing my canvas coat, leggings and
bowie knife and the distinction of being with a party of Everglades explorers.
But on the other hand, from equally reliable authority we were assured
that after passing through a few miles of the Everglades we would strike
higher land and find a rich island, covered with both pine and hammock
growth, inhabited and cultivated by Seminoles and where grew the most lux-
urious of tropical fruits and flowers. This, the man assured us, was the
home of the Indian, where he went when troubled by the white man and
found secure haven and harbor of refuge. Here the Indians had villages,
fields, cattle and in the surrounding swamps, plenty of game.
When Mr. Sydney [0. Chase] and I returned to camp that night we
found most of our "babes in the wood" slumbering sweetly as was evidenced
by the "saw gourd" music heard before we came into sight. It seemed to us
our heads had hardly touched our pillows when we heard our Captain calling
vigorously for the cooks to get up and get breakfast, "for it was most day
and he wanted us to form the habit of eating breakfast before the sun was


up." However, it turned out that our worthy leader had "looked crooked"
at his watch for it was hardly midnight and so we were quickly slumber-
ing again.

Tuesday, March 15, 1892.
Next day [Tuesday] we amused ourselves as best we could, during the
forenoon Mr. Sydney [0. Chase] and I going out in a buggy to inspect a
neighboring lemon grove and in the afternoon packing our valises to send
around to Miami to await our coming. Near our tent and close by a well
stood some wash tubs which during the day some of the Fort Myers "ladies"
had been using and which we thought we could utilize to as much advantage
as they, only in a different manner; so Mr. Sydney and I stripped and en-
joyed the pleasure of bathing in a tub.
The day had been very warm and as usual in that climate the night was
correspondingly cool. Bathing in the open air urged us to seek the warmth
of the camp fires which our men kept brightly burning. On all sides could
be seen the cheesecloth mosquito bars showing snowy white against the dark
background and arranged in picturesque confusion, while gathered around
the fires in little groups, the men were smoking and chatting about the march
they were to make next day and their prospects for getting safely through
the Everglades. Captain John W. Newman was the center of one group in
front of Mr. Ingraham's tent and he and Mr. Ingraham were planning our
campaign and debating the chances of getting through to Miami. "You see,"
he said to Mr. Ingraham, pointing to a map which lay between them, "we
know that rivers of a considerable size run into the Gulf on the West, the Bay
of Florida on the South, the Atlantic on the East, and if this map is correct,
into the Lake Okeechobee on the North; now if this is so, there must be a
divide within these Everglades, between the head waters of these rivers, or
else a large basin or lake from which they all flow.
"If we find a lake it will be an easy matter with the boats we have to
ferry across it, while if we find the divide, as I anticipate, we ought to be
able to cut our way through it. We may have to undergo some hardships,
but we have an object in view which is worth the sacrifice and I hope when
necessary they will be made cheerfully.
"Should our expedition be successful it may result in good to the whole
country, for if this land can be rendered fit for cultivation it will be the most
productive of any in this state. It is rich with the vegetable mould of cen-
turies, has the mildest climate on this continent and once drained could be
put into cultivation at a small cost.


"It might support an immense population and would doubtless supply
the United States with sugar, rice and the fruits adapted to the climate.
"With the money spent on hotels in the city of St. Augustine to gratify
the luxurious tastes of our millionaires I believe this land could be drained,
and the promoter of such a scheme would have the right to be considered the
greatest philanthropist of his age. It would be a glorious undertaking, for
charity could ask no nobler enterprise, ambition no higher glory and capital
no greater increase than would result from the redemption of this land."
The enthusiasm of our Captain was infectious and when he finished speak-
ing every man who heard him had determined to do all in his power for the
success of the expedition and felt the dignity of an explorer who belongs to
an enterprise which, if successfully carried out, may benefit his race.
It was late that night before I left my place by the fire, so. interesting
were the possibilities and probabilities propounded by our imaginative Cap-
tain. He was up still later, and my last recollection that night was of him
silhouetted against the bright glow of the fire, drawing inspiration from his
pipe and peering into the bright coals as though he was reading there the
secrets of the morrow.

Wednesday, March 16, 1892.
Next morning [Wednesday] our departure from this camp was delayed
by the failure of the wagons to appear. About eight o'clock one came up
and after being loaded went forward towards Ft. Shackleford, the driver
being instructed that our camp that night would be at "Half Way Ponds."
Mr. Sydney and I were tired of waiting at camp so we decided to follow
the first wagon. The sun was hot and I wore a pair of new shoes which be-
gan to gall me terribly, but I thought it would never do to complain so early
in the game. I walked on "with a smile on my lips but a tear in my eye,"
trying not to limp any more than was possible under the circumstances.
Tramping in the hot sun makes dinner time come early but as no sign of
those behind us could be perceived we kept marching on, devoutly hoping
those in the rear would come up with the provisions by supper time. About
one o'clock just as we had passed a small pond where, as someone remarked,
there was a beautiful place for a "picnic dinner", we heard shots and shout-
ing behind us, and halting awhile saw a man riding toward us. When he
came up it proved to be George Hendry, one of our guides, who had come
forward from the other party to bring us some dinner. We found he had


brought a hunting coat with its pockets filled with crackers and cans of potted
ham, and a coffee pot and some coffee. When he alit that day and exhibited
his 6 ft. 4 inches of height with the picturesque addition of a broad felt hat,
a pair of immense top-boots and jingling spurs, I was very favorably im-
pressed with him, but when he said, "Boys, I've ridden up from the other
crowd to bring you some coffee and crackers," I fell "dead in love with him."
The most notable things about George Hendry were his big eyes and his big
heart. Not that they were all visible to the material eye, but if you were
with him long, one was to be perceived as plainly as the other. His large,
tender grey eyes, fringed with long lashes, contrasted so oddly with his
rough address and appearance, but they never missed seeing where he could
be of any assistance, and his kind heart never failed to move him to at-
tempt the service.
When we reached "Half Way Ponds" that evenirh w shoes had
raised a blister as big as a half dollar on each of my and what was
worse one of the blisters had "gone into bankruptcy" and left literally noth-
ing between my sock and my flesh. After resting a little I went down to the
Pond and taking off my shoes and my socks with the smallest possible amount
of cuticle adhering, tenderly bathed my poor feet in its cooling water; that
duty attended to, I returned to the shade of the trees and before very long
some of the other crowd came up and commenced making camp.
Several of the men had their feet in the same condition as mine but that
did not take away our appetite or keep us awake, and I venture to say all of
us enjoyed that supper and slept as sweetly that night as we ever did.
Thursday, March 17, 1892.
Next Morning [Thursday] Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Sydney and George and
Frank Hendry had breakfast at daybreak and went off on a hunt leaving us
to follow with the wagons when we got them loaded. That day George
Hendry killed two deer which gave us plenty of fresh meat, but the hunt had
completely exhausted the hunters. I had been driving one of the wagons that
morning but gave my place to one of the tired hunters in the afternoon; I
could not wear my shoes and couldn't go barefooted so I put on my two pair
of extra socks and found that I could walk with tolerable ease.
So far we had been passing through the usual Florida pine land, but
from this time on the country was more open, and was dotted everywhere
with grass ponds and we had a great deal of wading to do. That night we
camped in a very poor place, for we had to go a long way for water and
could hardly find enough dry wood with which to cook.


Friday, March 18, 1892.
Next morning [Friday] my blisters were no better and I felt that an-
other day's walking in my socks would make the soles of my feet sore too.
In this extremity I determined to cut out the back of my shoe just above the
heel, where the worst blisters were, and try to walk that way. Much to my
gratification this succeeded admirably and from that time I walked con-
stantly. Our march now was on the great South Florida prairie and although
we did not see any large herds of cattle we were assured that this range af-
forded grass for thousands of them.
About ten o'clock a heavy shower fell, and as soon as it held up we went
into camp to get warm and dry off. We stopped under a clump of large
oak trees which had, from the signs we found, evidently been an old Indian
camp. Loosening our cattle to graze and taking out our shirts we all backed
up to the fire to warm ourselves. While engaged in this pleasant occupation
Moses, one of our group, sniffed the air and called out, "I smell something
burning. See if a cinder hasn't fallen on something in the wagon." We all en-
deavored to assuage his fears but at this moment a sense of unusual warmth
in the region of his shirt tail assured him that his worst fears were realized
and caused him to exclaim in horror, "My God, boys, it's me!" and to seek in
haste the cooling aid of a neighboring pond. At "shirt tail camp," as we
dubbed it, we noticed a wild, shaggy pony that had been following us all
day and which Hendry said belonged to Billy Conepache, a Seminole Chief.
That day we passed deserted old Indian camps, and about three o'clock
in the afternoon we came to a wire fence which Hendry told us was 28 miles
long. He said that the land did not belong to the man who fenced it in but
that custom allowed him to fence off for his own use as much land as he
needed to graze his cattle on. The grass on this range seemed to be finer and
more tender than the ordinary wire grass of the pine lands, and our guides
assured us it made a fine pasture. We camped that night in a clump of pines
where we could get plenty of wood but it was so cold we could not keep
warm. Many of our men, unaccustomed to walking, were terribly fatigued
so that every movement caused them pain. That night I was awakened by
the melancholy sounds of "Oh, Lord, Oh, God!" repeated in the most sup-
plicating tones. Fearing someone to be sick or injured, I jumped up ready
to give the alarm when I discovered it was our "President" (Mr. Ingraham)
trying to find for his blistered and aching limbs a more comfortable position.


Next morning [Saturday, March 19, 1892] I decided to go with Frank
Hendry and Moses over a different route from which the wagons were to
take, to try and kill some game.
We had not gone far from camp when we heard the baying of our dogs
coming rapidly toward us. We were standing ankle deep in water and just
in the edge of some young cypress trees no higher than our heads when I
saw a deer on the run in the edge of the swamp about 100 yards to our right.
As I had only a shot gun I did not fire, believing the distance to be too great
for me to kill, but Hendry who had a rifle and was standing about ten yards
back of me, shot and missed. Hardly had that deer disappeared before I
saw another one heading straight for me at top speed. Now, thought I, is
the time for me to make a reputation as a hunter; I'll wait until he comes as
close to me as he will and then I'll drop him in his tracks. Hardly had the
thought passed when the deer was upon me. I took deliberate aim and fired
a load of No. 8 bird shot into his flank. I thought that deer was going fast
before I fired but those bird shot seemed to make him fly. The instant after
my shot I recollected that I had that barrel loaded for snipe and sent my
load of buckshot whistling after, but all to no purpose, and all I could do
was watch that deer make tracks (20 ft. apart) across that prairie, while
Frank Hendry took long range shots at him with the rifle.
Very much crestfallen at our failure and vowing to do better next time,
we took our way towards camp and had hardly gone two miles when the
baying of the dogs announced that they were again on the trail of some game.
From the actions of the dogs we surmised it was a wild cat and peering
about amongst the bushes, Frank Hendry soon got a shot. He shot at the
cat in a thick swamp, and while he was certain he had not missed he was not
certain that his shot had been fatal. A wild cat wounded is a very savage
and dangerous foe and as the dogs had gone off on back track we had to
venture in without them. We peered cautiously about us as we advanced,
fearing the cat would spring on us from some bush or limb, but just at this
time the dogs came dashing back and found our game shot dead by a bullet
through his fore shoulders. After skinning the cat and taking a small piece
of his meat for Moses to taste and see whether or not it was good for eating,
we pushed rapidly on towards Ft. Shackleford where our party was camped.
On our way we saw plenty of Indian signs and found one of their camps
hidden away in a dense little hammock. Only a squaw and some pickanin-
nies were at home and they seemed to be very much alarmed at our visit. We
did not stay long but went on about a mile further to Ft. Shackleford.


"Old Fort Shackleford" had been so often mentioned as a definite place
that I expected to find our camp in the midst of some picturesque old ruins,
the relics of the last Indian war, or in any event to see the remains of an old
stockade or some evidence of the soldier camps which had been made there.
"Fort Shackleford," however, is merely a clump of pine trees on the edge of
the prairie bordering the Everglades, where common report says Ft. Shackle-
ford was located. Not a vestige or sign of the Fort remains. This is not sur-
prising when one considers that the whole fortification probably consisted
of only a small stockade which was perhaps burnt by the Indians as soon as
the soldiers left.
To the east of our camp about four miles off lay the unexplored Ever-
glades. As this was Saturday and we were too tired we decided not to enter
them until Monday morning.
The ox team we had sent before us from Fort Myers was waiting at Ft.
Shackleford when we came up and that afternoon we went down to the
water's edge and unloaded the boats and other things on it. To mark our
camp and render it conspicuous for some miles around, Mr. Newman hoisted
to the top of one of the highest pines a large flag made from a piece of
canvas on which he marked in black ink the Plant Investment Co. emblem,
a Maltese cross.
That afternoon we were visited by the old squaw and pickaninnies we
had seen in their camp that morning and we fed them as well as our larder
would permit. The old woman, "Nancy" she said her name was, grew very
talkative for an Indian. She was much amused at the idea of our going to
Miami and when we asked her how long it would take us to get there, laughed
and said, "Indian two days, white man ten, fifteen days." Pointing to the
north, she advised us to go that way, for north of Okeechobee she said we
could take our wagons to Miami. She told us she had been to Miami and
that it was a hundred miles from Shackleford but we knew she was mistaken,
for as the crow flies it was only about half that distance. This old woman
said she had been "Jumper's" squaw but that a few days before our arrival
Jumper "had got big drunk" and falling out of his canoe had been drowned;
also, that she lived with Billy Conepache (or little Billy) who had married
her daughter; that all her men were at Chockiliskee hunting and her daugh-
ters had gone to the nearest trading post, some twenty-five or thirty miles
away. Finally about dark, finding we had nothing more to give her, she and
the two children took their departure.


Sunday, March 20, 1892.
The next day was Sunday and as there was little work we had plenty of
time in which to do as we pleased; some hunted, some explored the surround-
ing country but most of us were well pleased to sleep, eat and chat, thor-
oughly enjoying the rest and quiet after our eighty mile walk from Fort
In the evening the old squaw came back again, bringing two younger
women with her-her daughters-and half a dozen or more little children.
The two younger women were rather better looking than I expected but had
the usual Indian features, black, bead-like eyes, straight inky black hair and
low foreheads. They were dressed in sacques and skirts of bright colored
calicoes. The sacque and skirt did not quite meet, which omission left a
small rim or zone of the native and primitive Indian in view, giving the idea
that each woman wore a belt. Possibly alligator skin belts were in style
there and if so these might have been excellent imitations of the genuine
article: or, maybe the dress reform lecturer had instilled some of her prin-
ciples into the native minds and this was a new system of ventilation. The
most pleasant features about these women were their soft voices, although
of course accustomed to speaking in the open air, their tones were low and
musical, and very distinct to our ears. They left us about eight o'clock that
night, having amused us very much, and promising to bring us some chickens
early next morning before we got off. That night I wrote in my diary,
"From what squaw Nancy says I judge there is nothing between Miami and
here but saw grass and an occasional hammock island." 0, my prophetic

Monday, March 21, 1892.
Next morning [Monday] we were up early and after bidding goodby to
the Hendrys and others who were to go back to Fort Myers with the wagons,
we set our compass and ran S. 32 E. towards the Everglades.
Tom Boyd, one of the men from Fort Myers who had agreed to go
through with us, became frightened at the prospect before him and decided
to go back with the wagons. Before we reached Miami, many a man in our
party wished he had swapped his valor for some of Tom Boyd's discretion.
After running about 4 miles on our course we struck the Everglades. As
far as the eye could reach a vast expanse of saw grass and water was seen,
dotted with islands here and there. Part of our force was detailed to set up


the canvas boats and to store the provisions and equipage they were to carry.
The rest of us went on with the survey.
When we entered the 'Glades the water was only ankle deep and clear
except when stirred up by some movement in it. The ground was not so
boggy as we found it later on. Here the saw grass seemed to be stunted for
it was only four or five feet high and lay in detached bodies and was not a
solid mass as we afterwards found it. Small clumps of trees or islands could
be seen on all sides, and we felt confident that if they were as numerous as
this all the way across, we would always be able to find a camping place.
My first experience with saw grass was not very encouraging. In forcing
my way through some of it I had my right hand cut severely in several places.
However, after being tied up in a cloth greased well with mutton suet it gave
me very little trouble.
We camped Monday evening about a mile from land on a little cypress
island hardly above the surrounding water. After bringing up all the wood
we could find for our campfire, we made a place for our beds. Each bed
was fixed for two. When practicable we had a foundation of ferns or leaves
of some sort; on top of this mattress of ferns or leaves we put our oil cloths
to keep out the moisture from the ground, then the blankets, one to lie on
and the other to cover with. Then the mosquito bars had to be hung and
for this purpose four sticks were necessary.
When camp had been made the men who were not too tired waded out
to explore the neighboring islands. On their return they reported they had
seen a deserted Indian village on one island where a lemon grove was grow-
ing, and on another island they found what seemed to be a bear's den, but
no bear could be discovered. That night all were in good spirits except
P. N. Handley of Lewisburg, West Virginia, who vomited and seemed to be
threatened with an attack of fever. The bare idea of any of the men falling
sick in this wilderness made me faint at heart and that night I could not
help feeling uneasy on that account.
Next morning (Tuesday, March 22, 1892) we decided to change our
course in order to avoid the saw grass and this necessitated the abandonment
of a portion of the line we had run the day before, which I did not like very
much. Early that morning Mr. Ingraham, Mr. Sydney and Mr. Moses went
off to the south to examine a large body of cypress timber, barely visible
from where we then were. About noon they returned, bringing with them,
or rather I should say being brought in by an Indian in his canoe. They
said they had gone to the cypress swamp and finding the ground very boggy


had started to return when they suddenly came upon an Indian on foot who
said his name was "Billy Fuel". They tried to hire him to go to Miami and
act as our guide but he refused; despairing of making any terms with him
they started off again when Mr. Ingraham, who had on boots, became bogged
and in his efforts to get out, exhausted. The Indian seeing this seemed to
pity them and said, "Wait, I get canoe." He then walked to a thick clump
of bushes near by, pulled out a canoe and taking two of our explorers in it
with him, came on to where we were. We ate lunch that day as we stood in
the water; and crackers, potted ham and cold coffee never before tasted so
good. The Indian stayed with us until we had camped and had supper; be-
fore he left we offered him every inducement to guide us to Miami and when
we offered him wyomie (whiskey) he seemed to yield to our wishes but said
he had to go home first and see his squaw and would meet us at our next
night's camp ready to go to Miami. We never saw Billy Fuel again. That
day's march had completely worn me out although we had advanced since
morning only about five miles. However, they were equivalent to about
twenty on dry land. I was so tired I had lost interest in everything-I didn't
care whether Billy stayed, went or ever came back-all I wanted to do was to
lie down and rest. I managed to help Mr. Sydney Chase arrange our bed,
flopped down on it and slept until supper was ready and when I had swallowed
that, dropped off to sleep again. What appetites we had and how delicious
everything tasted! To be sure, our biscuit had a heart of dough and were
appropriately called "sinkers," and our coffee was a little muddy and our
bacon salty and not always well done, but how refreshing this food was to
us poor boys, wet, weary and muddy as we were.

Wednesday, March 23, 1892
Next morning [Wednesday] before starting off we reconnoitered from
the top of a large fig tree which grew in the center of our island and we
thought we could see an opening through the saw grass leading in the direc-
tion we wished to go, but about eleven o'clock the saw grass closed us in and
in order to go forward we had to go through it. We stopped a few moments
to rest and eat our lunch of soda crackers and fat bacon soaked in a bucket
of grease, and then started forward again. The nearest island was several
miles ahead of us and, although we could see no passage through the saw
grass leading up to it, we knew we must reach it to find wood with which
to cook and a dry place to sleep.


The grass was high and thick, the ground so boggy that at every step
we sank into it up to our thighs, and the sun was scorching hot; it soon
became evident that at the rate we were going we could not reach the island
by night fall. Mr. Newman proposed to me that we two go ahead and fire
the saw grass so as to clear the way for the boats. The grass directly in front
of us had already been lighted and was rapidly spreading around the little
pond we stood in, fanned by the stiff breeze that was blowing.
To get beyond this first ring of fire was now our objective. Edging up
to where the saw grass was thinnest we waited until the wind lulled a little
and then with one dash we were through it. We now pushed our way towards
the island, lighting fires every hundred yards or so, knowing that if the wind
held and the saw grass burnt with its usual fury, there would soon be behind
us a clear path for the boats. I was very weary when I started with Mr.
Newman and after building fires and forcing my way through the saw grass
for a mile or so, my strength completely gave out. I stopped in a lagoon
where the water and mud was nearly waist deep, while Mr. Newman went on
making fires toward the island. On all sides the grass was burning with a
fury I have never seen equalled; to my rear the smoke and flames completely
hid the boats and the men struggling to bring them forward, while very soon
the fires, kindled ahead, swept down towards me and but for the bayou in
which I stood would have burned me up. I thought little of the fire, but
rather of the dreadful fatigue.
A sense of faintness came over me and the saw grass went round and
up and down in a most strange fashion; I felt I could stand no longer. Wad-
ing through the saw grass to where the water shoaled a little I sat down in
the mud, and oh, how good it felt to rest! The severe exertion I had made
had been too much for me and a deathly sickness followed the faintness and
made me fear I would have to stretch out full length in the mud. Resting
in the mud the better part of two hours, I recovered some of my strength
and the clouds of smoke behind me having rolled away, I could see that
our men had abandoned the boat and one by one were struggling on, each
with a pack on his back. Nothing but stern necessity compelled me to move.
Realizing that I must reach that island before night I gathered up my
strength and crawled slowly along. Never did shipwrecked mariner eye
with more longing the distant land than I did that island. The smoke had
cleared and there it lay before me, not a mile away, with the delicate
tracery of its trees outlined against the sky and the glistening leaves showing
bright in the setting sun. Yet it seemed I never would get to it. Slowly I


"bogged" along, my feet working like suction pumps in the mud, stopping
now and then to blow and to wonder where the strength for the next step
was coming from. Occasionally someone would overtake and pass me but
we had no breath to waste in words so nothing was said. Just as the sun set,
I saw a little smoke curl up from the island and I knew that our Captain had
reached it and was doing his best to cheer us on. About dark I reached the
goal for which I had been making and was happy to stretch myself on the
ground once more. Weariness is no name for the suffering I underwent and
comfort no expression for my sensations of pleasure when I threw myself
down on the ground by the fire Mr. Newman had made-and rested.
My advice is to urge every discontented man to take a trip through the
Everglades-if it doesn't kill it will certainly cure him. All who are suf-
fering from "ennui", who have no taste for the good things of the world and
can feed on nothing but the dainties of the table-after a few days of such
experiences as we went through, fat white bacon warmed through, will be
as delicate to the taste as turkey's breast, and "sinkers" will sit as lightly
on the stomach as the finest white bread. One may have been raised to think
iced champagne the only drink fit for a gentleman, but one will grow to
think cold coffee, without milk or sugar, equal to nectar. If a man is a dude,
a trip through the 'Glades is the thing to cure him. A day's journey in
slimy, decaying vegetable matter which coats and permeates everything it
touches, and no water with which to wash it off, will be good for him, but
his chief medicine will be his morning toilet. He must rise with the sun
when the grass and leaves are wet with dew and put on his shrinking body
his clothes heavy and wet with slime and scrape out of each shoe a cup full
of black and odorous mud-it is enough to make a man swear to be con-
tented ever afterwards with a board for a bed and a clean shirt once a week.
But to resume my story: as I said before, several of the men had reached
the island before me, and from them I had learned that as soon as the saw
grass had burned out before them they had advanced with the boats, making
slow progress. Then they decided to pack what they would need for the
night and go on without the boats. However it proved to be a case of "jump-
ing from the frying pan into the fire," because it was harder to carry baggage
on their backs than to drag it in the boats. One by one the men came stagger-
ing up and it was late before we ate or slept. Memory still dwells with
delight on the thought of that supper and gloats with tender affection over
the recollection of my pleasure in eating mush that night-when ordinarily
I detest mush.


Thursday, March 24, 1892
Next morning [Thursday], nine men went back for the boats, the cooks
stayed on the island to prepare a supply of food and the surveyors went on
with the line. Selecting our island we triangulated to it and then went
back to our morning's camp where we found the detail of men had just suc-
ceeded in bringing up the boats. We had lunch and again took up our line
of march but soon found our way obstructed by saw grass. We had learned
from experience of the day before that it was little help to burn the saw grass,
so we doubled our team and pulled through as best we could. Doubling up
meant putting all the men on one boat and then coming back for the others,
but, by doing this we found we could pull from one lagoon across the saw
grass to another, which we would follow as long as it went in our direction.
In this way we slowly fought our way forward, one moment straining every
nerve to drag our boats through the grass and the next clinging to and shov-
ing them before us through the mud and water. The march that afternoon
was almost a repetition of the one the day before, several times the boats
were stalled and the men exhausted but after resting a bit they would fall
in with a cheer and at a "one, two, three, go!" from Mr. Ingraham, would
break their way through. Everyone took his turn at pulling, Mr. Ingraham
amongst the rest, and about sundown we came into a channel leading up to
the island we were making for. That night it was plain to me that unless
the marching became easier we would have to abandon one of the wooden
boats because the men had commenced to show sprains and strains from a
lot of spades, shovels and axes and cooking utensils that we did not need
then-but which I hope have been useful to some Seminole brave, ere this.

Friday, March 25, 1892.
We had been making for an island almost directly on our course but in
the afternoon Mr. Newman decided to turn back and try for one which
seemed a little more accessible. Flying about this island we noticed a cloud
of birds, principally white cranes, and when we reached it that evening we
found it was a bird roost and nesting place, and that there were hundreds
of young birds in the nests among the trees. The old birds flew away when
we landed but came back next morning as soon as we left.
We had been anxious to see these great nesting places of the birds, and
we had our curiosity satisfied at the expense of our comfort for it was a very
disagreeable place to camp, the odor being of sufficient strength to down a
tolerably strong man.


When cutting away the grass and brush for a sleeping place we discovered
a moccasin nest and killed a moccasin, but that did not disturb us as one
of the men slept on the hole and thus kept it effectually stopped up all
night. This night three of our men were sick and had to be doctored-
Minchin, Handley and Matthieux.
Next day, Saturday (March 26, 1892), we went almost south for a while
and then fortunately discovered an opening in the saw grass leading in the
direction we wished. The bog however was fearful and retarded us very much.
In the afternoon we passed another "rookery" as we called it and just
beyond it found a small island, evidently a favorite camp site for the Indians
as it had poles stuck up to mark the landing place and strewn over it were
the shells of numerous terrapins they had eaten. It was decided to camp
here, much to my delight, as my left big toe in the last few days had de-
veloped an ingrown nail which at this time was hurting me very much. It
had been announced that day that our rations were in danger of being all
consumed before our arrival at Miami and we would have to go on allow-
ance from now on. A commissary had been appointed to serve out the food
and that night we were each allowed for supper three biscuits ("sinkers"),
a cup of coffee and a thin slice of bacon. After supper I operated on my toe
and with Mr. Sydney's assistance succeeded in making a very satisfactory job.
On Sunday the 27th we were put on rations of hominy, coffee and bacon
gravy but we did not suffer from hunger and none of the men seemed to be
very despondent. We ate lunch that day in somewhat of a bad humor as
we had worked hard all morning and had not made much progress in the
right direction: in a nest in a bush near us were two little blue cranes who
looked at us and opened their mouths and cried. I thought that we were
great idiots to come into such a place when we had no wings with which to
fly out.
This day Clarke, who had been appointed to serve out the rations, re-
signed as the men complained to him about their allowance, and George
Matthieux was appointed in Clarke's place.
Since we had not seen any game in the 'Glades the guns were usually
kept in the boats. This morning, however, as we were strung out through
the saw grass I heard shouts of those in front, "Get the gun-shoot him-
kill him-catch him!" and an instant later a deer emerged from the grass
and plunged heavily in the bog not twenty yards from me. For an instant
the frightened animal seemed stuck in the mud, but gathering all its strength
made a supreme effort and disappeared in the grass just as several of us


made a rush to catch it. When the deer was gone and there was no prospect
of venison steaks for supper, every one of those fellows who were so tired
of hominy went back to the boats, strapped on their guns, loaded themselves
with ammunition and vowed the next time a deer came by. they would be
ready for him, but I didn't see a deer since and I don't think they did either.
All day long we hunted for an opening to the east and although we
walked miles and miles north and south, no channel could be found. On
all sides could be seen smoke-fires presumably lit by Indians, but they
never came near us.
In the afternoon a cold wind was blowing and my wet, stiff clothes chafed
me badly so that I could not walk without great pain and had to get in one
of the boats and ride. At sundown there was no island near us, and we made
our camp in the saw grass where it grew unusually tall and thick, near a
little willow or custard apple tree.
We had no dry wood for our fire; the water was so muddy we could
hardly get enough to make coffee; and we had to cut down saw grass to make
mattresses thick enough to raise us above the water level. There was a clear,
bright sunset and a cold Northwest wind which chilled me to the marrow as
I stood changing my wet, muddy clothes for some dry ones. Thinking there
was no possible chance for any supper, I went to bed as soon as the blankets
were spread down and although hungry and exhausted, dropped off to sleep
as soon as I had stretched myself out. About eight o'clock Mr. Sydney
called and said they had managed to boil some rice and had made a pot of
coffee, which I enjoyed very much although the rice was only about half
My fatigue being somewhat abated I got up to look at the fires which
were still burning at a distance and which we or some passing Indians had
lit during the day. A stiff northwester was rattling the saw grass and fanning
the fires into magnificence. Although several miles from us, we could hear
the crackling and roaring quite plainly and we could see the great tongues
of flame leap fiercely towards the sky, burning with red fury in some tall
bunch of grass; and as the wind died away and the grass grew thinner, fall
back exhausted, as if to gather strength for a fresh outburst. Sometimes
great masses of flame carried by the wind would leap forward beyond the
advancing line as if urged by some fierce passion, and flames left behind
would rush forward with a loud crackle as though angry at being out-dis-
tanced in the race. Our camp was on an island and the wind, luckily, was


not bringing the fire near us. The frosty air soon sent me back to bed and
to such sleep as the cold would let us have.

Monday, March 28, 1892.
Early next morning [Monday] as I lay chilled and stiff, thinking with a
sort of horror of the disagreeable business that was before us and wondering
if we were to have any breakfast, Mr. Newman touched me on the shoulder
and handed me a cup of warm coffee with sugar and milk in it, which made
me feel like a new man.
Matthieux, our commissary, who had taken upon himself the duties of a
cook, managed to get a fire going for breakfast with some pieces of plank
he had found in the boats and a quantity of dry saw grass. About seven
o'clock we were again on our way. Mr. Newman now decided it was better
to pull through the saw grass than to wander around looking for a passage
where none existed, so we started straight into it. The pulling was some-
thing tremendous and nothing but stern necessity would have kept the men
at it. I tried for a while but became so faint I had to give up. At four
o'clock there was no island near, and we could go no further. We stopped
in the saw grass, wet and tired with no dry place to rest in, hungry with little
chance to cook our meager allowance of hominy. Facing these conditions,
with two sick men on our hands, we were very disconsolate.
Commissary Matthieux was the hero of the hour. After doing a hard
day's work he took the cook's place and with a lump of rosin from the boats
and a supply of saw grass, prepared hominy and coffee for the crowd.
Caruthers and Dean were completely disabled, one with a strained side and
the other with an inflamed leg. They had to be hauled in the boats all the
time; and Gradick, one of our best men, strained his ankle and risked giving
out at any moment.

Tuesday, March 29, 1892.
Next day [Tuesday] we made for an island directly in our course about
two miles off but the pulling was so hard that we decided to pack forward a
part of our baggage and come back for the boats. Mr. Sydney Chase and I
divided our bundles between us. The bogs were so deep that after going a
mile we were obliged to stop and rest. Mr. Newman sent most of the men
back to bring up the boats which they succeeded in doing about one o'clock.
We then decided to put all the baggage in the wooden boat, to concentrate


all our men on that boat and try to break a passageway through the grass
for the canvas boat.
The island we camped on that night was a large rookery and the Indians
had recently killed a great many birds-their remains were strewn all about.
The quantity of half grown birds on this island suggested to Mr. Newman
the advisability of having some of them for supper. In his attempts to secure
a young crane (equal to chicken) for his own repast, he got vigorously
pecked on his tender, sunburned nose.
During the night two alligators, attracted by the provisions in one of the
boats, came up and had not Mr. Ingraham been sleeping in one of the canvas
boats and frightened them off, we might have been left with nothing at all
to eat. That night we were also attacked by an army of red bugs and next
morning we were so thickly peppered with their "whelps" that our bodies
seemed on fire.
Next day, Wednesday, 30th, we struck a very fair channel. It ran, how-
ever, too much toward the south. We followed it until noon and then we
had to make haul after haul across the saw grass until we were ready to
drop from exhaustion. At sundown we were still a mile from our island and
we could see no channel leading up to it.
Mr. Newman, Mr. Sydney and I went forward to explore the way toward
the island. In the gathering darkness the boats became separated, took dif-
ferent channels and for a time went backward instead of forward. We
shouted, discharged our guns and set the saw grass ablaze to mark the chan-
nel, and when we reached the island (which turned out to be a buzzard
roost), we made a bright fire to guide them.
Sometime after dark the boats arrived and we made our camp in the
saw grass as best we could. Next morning [Thursday] I found two stumps
under our blankets; we had been so weary that night that not even stumps,
red bugs and mosquitos could have kept us awake.

March 31, 1892
While we were triangulating to the island ahead of us the boats went
and soon got out of hearing. Now it should be distinctly understood that
none of us were frightened or uneasy in any sense, but we were willing to
admit that a feeling of loneliness came over us when our companions could
nowhere be seen. We did hurry a little to catch up with them and we were
a little glad when they were again in sight.


We struck a fine channel leading toward the east and since I could not
walk without great pain from chafes I rode in the canvas boat all day, en-
joyed it immensely, and concluded I had just begun to enjoy boating in the
Everglades. That day we caught 7 hard shell turtles-an enjoyable addition
to our scanty fare. Our channel now widened out and we felt certain that
we had come into the Miami or some other stream flowing into the Atlantic.
We had a good camp that night and enjoyed immensely our supper of hominy
and terrapin. Our men who had been most despondent and complaining
regained their strength and spirits and were as well and eager as any of us.
Our thought was that now we could follow the channel we were in until it
took us to the coast and we would have no more pulling through the saw
Next day, Friday, April 1st, the channel we had been following lost itself
in the saw grass and we again were back at pulling and tugging to break
through. Soon we found a great many little channels, hardly wide enough
for our boats, very deep and yet preferable to the saw grass. The fish became
more plentiful and when trying to escape from us they would jump wildly
out of the water and sometimes would fall into one of the boats. We man-
aged to kill a large alligator and cut off his tail, intending to eat it, but
finding some young water turkeys a little further on, we threw the 'gator meat

About five o'clock we neared an island and found it to be another buzzard
roost but a much better place on which to camp than the last one. We had
a hard time getting up to it and, indeed, had to leave our boats several
hundred yards from our camp.
Mr. Sydney and I could not locate our bedding and baggage for a time,
and were very much frightened at the prospect of losing them, but shortly
afterwards we found our bundle and made a comfortable camp.
All during the day we had been constantly on the lookout for some
indication of land or of an Indian camp, and late in the afternoon much
excitement had been caused by someone crying out that an Indian was
in sight. We had hurried onward, anxious to find anyone who could tell
us how far we were from land and how quickly we could get there, but
found only a bush on the edge of the saw grass. We became aware for
the first time that looking constantly at a dead level of saw grass had de-
stroyed our idea of perpendicular distance or height. As we waded along
up to our armpits in mud and water, the bushes which now began to appear


seemed as trees and we were constantly thinking that just in front of us was a
thick forest.

Saturday, April 2, 1892
Next day [Saturday], we found open water most of the day. Conse-
quently we made a good march but as we could see no sign of land and the
water grew constantly deeper, the men settled once more into the depths
of despair and some of them began to get sick again. Late that afternoon
we struck what looked like might be a river and everyone cheered and
waved his hat and thought that surely this must be the Miami and another
day's march would certainly put the party on land. At this place we gave
up all our efforts at continuing the survey; we had completely lost sight of
the island from which we had last triangulated. Mr. Newman said that he
could come back and connect the line from Miami-if we ever got there.
Crows, cranes and aquatic birds were seen in abundance and we noted
particularly the crows who seemed to profit by our advance. As we went
along the water-turkeys would leave their nests out of fear and the crows
fly to the nests, stick bills into the eggs and fly off. A feud seemed to be
between the blackbirds and crows: the blackbirds would attempt to defend
the water-turkey's nest after the "turkey" had left it.
Off to the east we saw a dense smoke rising, and some of the men thought
that it might be a signal for our benefit, but it was later found to be fires
started in the saw grass by the Indians.
That evening we camped in the saw grass near some bushes to which
we tied one end of our mosquito bars. I was coated by slimy, filthy mud
from ears to heels, and when we had made our camp, pushed out in one of
the canvas boats to try to find enough clear water with which to wash some
of the mud off. I began taking off my clothes and found the little boat
very unsteady. When I had both arms in the air and my coat over my head,
the boat gave a lurch to one side and dropped me head first into the mud
and water, much to the amusement of the lookers on.
Our men showed plainly the effects of the hardships they had undergone;
their faces were haggard, their eyes bloodshot, and none had their usual
energy: Clarke and Handley, in addition to Minchin, gave out completely
today and had to be carried in the boats.


April 3-4, 1892
Sunday morning we decided to throw away everything we could possibly
do without in order to make room in the boats for the sick men. We had
not gone a mile when our channel once again gave out and we had to pull
through the grass.
We had no dinner this day; we had determined to camp early and eat
supper and dinner together, about four o'clock in the afternoon. The island
we wanted to reach seemed almost unapproachable from the saw grass sur-
rounding it on all sides and we had to go two miles around in order to
make one forward.
About noon Mr. Ingraham climbed up a little bush and declared that
with the aid of his telescope he could see the roof of a house on an island
some distance ahead of us. Having grown faithless from so many dis-
appointments, we laughed at the idea. A dozen or more fish jumped into our
boats as we went along, one trout weighing, I judged, about four pounds.
At four o'clock we made camp on a high, dry island which had a growth
of young hack berries on it. The island looked as if it had once been in
cultivation. We also saw deer tracks and believed we must be near land.
Next morning, April 4th, from the top of a tree the thatched roof of an
Indian hut on a neighboring island could be distinctly seen and we knew
then that this was what Mr. Ingraham had seen the day before. We started
off in high spirits for the Indian camp, but found saw grass in front of us
any way we turned. Just as we began forcing our way through the grass,
an Indian in his canoe came into sight. Instantly there was the wildest
excitement and everyone wanted to rush forward to meet the man; restrained,
they stood on the boats, waved their hats, cheered, and shouted, "come on,
old man, come on," in the most frantic manner. Even the sick men showed
renewed vigor.
When the Indian came up, he said his name was "Billy Harney". Mr.
Newman asked him how far it was to Miami, and he said twenty-five miles
and pointed in direction different than that which we had expected. When
he said twenty-five miles to Miami, our faces fell several feet because at the
rate we had been going it would take us five days to get there and we had
only enough rations, on half allowance, for two days more. Billy Harney
talked such poor English that Mr. Newman decided to go with him to his
camp, which he said was nearby, to try to find out whether or not he could


get provisions or boats there, and more definite information about the way to
Miami than the old Indian could give him.
Mr. Newman got in the Indian's canoe and all of us started off. The
Indian seemed to be taking us away from his camp rather than toward it,
so it was decided that Mr. Newman would go on alone with the Indian while
we cooked something to eat and waited for him. We found a little clump of
bushes where we made our fire and cooked up enough food for our dinner
and supper; and about two o'clock Mr. Newman came back. He did not
get out of the canoe but told us there was no one at "Harney's" camp except
some women; that we could get nothing to eat there; and that from the women
he had learned that he could go to Miami and return in a day, if an Indian
took him.
Mr Newman said that he had decided to go to Miami with Billy Harney
and to bring back provisions for us; Mr. Ingraham and Mr. Moses were to
follow the canoe in the canvas boat, and Mr. Sydney Chase was to come with
him and the Indian. He took a bucket of cold hominy, cooked, for pro-
visions; and the Indian in his canoe and Mr. Ingraham in his canvas boat
shoved off and left us. As they went, Mr. Newman called to us to follow
a certain course next day, make fires in the saw grass as we went and he
would be certain to meet us at noon.

Tuesday, April 5-7, 1892
That night we stayed where we were and had an early supper and an
early breakfast next morning [Tuesday]. Taking the course given by Mr.
Newman, we followed it as nearly as the saw grass would permit. By noon
we had made good progress but Mr. Newman was nowhere to be seen. The
grumblers began talking as though there was little hope of ever getting home
again. It was decided to push steadily on in the direction we had been told
to follow, and when our provisions gave out we would then turn due east
and try to reach the coast.
In the afternoon we had to make several pulls through the saw grass
with the wooden boat and while we were looking for a convenient place to
camp we saw something that moved on a little island nearby. We stopped
and carefully examined the island in the distance but could not make out
what moved; some thought it was an Indian watching us, another thought it
was some wild animal; but no one was positive. Some of us went forward


to find out about it and a close inspection revealed the fact that it was a
pair of breeches worn by Mr. Sydney Chase when he left us, hanging from
a tree.
The sight of those pants was worth a gold mine to us because it assured
us that we were on the right track and that the party ahead of us had been
delayed in getting to Miami. Therefore, we should not expect Mr. Newman
back until the following day. That night we decided to reduce still further
our allowance of food and to have no dinner the next day but to save what
we had left for supper. Next morning, Wednesday, April 6, when we left
camp we could not but feel gloomy for we had had nothing for dinner and
there was hardly enough food for another meal, and there was no certainty
of Mr. Newman's return that day. We had gone about a mile when we saw
smoke ahead of us and shortly after two canoes came into view-in one was
Mr. Newman.
At sight of the canoes we became cheerful and in a few moments had
covered the distance that separated us, and were shaking hands and welcom-
ing our rescuers. Mr. Newman brought plenty of provisions with him and
as soon as we could find a convenient place we stopped and cooked a fine
meal of bacon, beans, rice, tomatoes and coffee, to which we did ample
justice. As we feasted royally, Mr. Newman told us that he had not been
able to reach Miami until one o'clock the day after he left us and therefore
had not been able to come back as soon as he had planned. He said we
could reach Miami next day, and that made us quite happy.
Satisfying our hunger, we pushed on as rapidly as possible and camped
that evening in an abandoned Indian field just above the rapids in the Miami
River-six miles from Miami.
For supper we had another big meal and went to bed feeling full and
contented, but not for long; our hearty meals, after such long abstinence,
made nearly every one sick and none of us were able to sleep.
One of the Indians (Matlo) who had come with Mr. Newman went back
to Miami with us, while Billy Harney went on to his camp in the Everglades.
Next morning, April 7th, I went down the river with Matla in his canoe, and
sent back boats enough to bring the rest of the party down.
When riding in a canoe the hair should be carefully parted down the
middle; rings on the fingers should be divided so that an equal number and
weight are on each hand; and there should be no more tacks in one shoe than
in the other. By observing these precautions I kept my balance and pre-
vented the canoe from turning over and reached my destination safely after


a very monotonous ride. On our way we shot the Miami River rapids by
getting out and carrying our canoe down; and at about eleven o'clock we
came into sight of Fort Dallas, first seeing the government flag flying over
it. For the first time in my life I felt that the stars and stripes really repre-
sented something to me; I felt that I had been in a foreign country and had
come back to the comforts and blessings of home.
Those of our party who had preceded me looked fresh as roses; and soon,
with the help of soap, water and clean clothes, I made myself appear half-
We made our last camp, with Mrs. Julia D. Tuttle's permission, con-
venient to the boat landing, from which we could cross to the store opposite.
In the afternoon the whole Everglades Exploring party had congregated at
Fort Dallas, and the expedition was at an end.

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Source Document

Recollections of Early Miami
President Gifford, Members of the Historical Association
of South Florida, and Miami Pioneers:
In behalf of the Miami Pioneers I extend to you our heartiest apprecia-
tion for your cordial invitation to this wonderful meeting. It is just such
cooperation that will make any organization a success.
Our two organizations have a similar objective. The Historical Asso-
ciation of South Florida, as I understand it, is gathering data to make
history of the southern half of Florida, whereas the Miami Pioneers were
organized to perpetuate the names of the Miami Pioneers who suffered the
hardships and deprivations of pioneering so that we might enjoy this modern
city of today.
Your invitation to give the history of the early days of Miami is very
much appreciated, and I will try to make it as interesting as possible and
touch on only the high spots of the early days.
In 1870 two men left Cleveland, Ohio, for New York. Their names were
William B. Brickell and E. T. Sturtevant. They bought a schooner in New
York, loaded it with supplies and building materials, and set sail for the
South. After a voyage of three or four weeks they arrived at Cape Florida
and set sail up the Bay until they arrived at the mouth of the Miami River.
They were so carried away with the beauty of the scenery and the fresh water
of the Miami River that they cast anchor and prepared to stay.
Mr. Brickell immediately made application to the Perrine Grant and
purchased 640 acres of land on the South side of the Miami River, now
known as Brickell Point. Mr. Sturtevant also decided to stay and he pur-
chased a homestead of 160 acres of land north of Miami and just east of
where Barry College is today. They enjoyed the climate and surroundings
so much that they sent for their families, so Mrs. Brickell and her children,
EDITOR'S NOTE: This paper was delivered in part at a joint
meeting of the Historical Association of Southern Florida and the
Miami Pioneers, on November 17, 1942, at the Coral Gables
Country Club.


and Mrs. Tuttle and her husband and children arrived here about 1873, land-
ing on the north side of the Miami River on which the old Indian Fort and
Barracks (known as Fort Dallas) stood. Mrs. Tuttle was Mr. Sturtevant's
daughter. She was also carried away with this country and purchased 640
acres of land from the Bay Biscayne Company on the north side of the
Miami River.

The Brickell family remained here permanently, but Mrs. Tuttle and
family went north each summer and returned in the winter. She went back
to Cleveland in 1891 to sell out some of her belongings there and move to
Miami. At a banquet given before she left Cleveland, she met a Mr. J. E.
Ingraham, who, at that time, represented the Plant Railroad system which
had built a railroad from Jacksonville to Tampa, Florida. Mrs. Tuttle told
Mr. Ingraham that she would like very much to have someone build a rail-
road to Fort Dallas, and that she would give half her holdings to the one
who did so. A few days later Mrs. Tuttle packed two carloads of furniture,
groceries and building supplies, together with five head of cattle and a lot
of chickens and dogs. These two carloads were sent to Jacksonville, Florida,
and were transferred from there to Miami by a boat named the "Emily B",
Captain Henderson in charge. A week later Mrs. Tuttle arrived at the mouth
of the Miami River, unloaded, and began remodeling the old Barracks which
had been occupied during the Indian War.

Not long after that she received word from Mr. Ingraham from Tampa,
Florida, that they were about to start on an expedition from Fort Myers to
Miami. This expedition was probably the forerunner of Mr. Plant's interest
in building a railroad to Fort Dallas. Mr. Ingraham and his party arrived
at the Everglades. There were about 20 in the party, and Mrs. Tuttle had
been notified when they started. They left Fort Myers with wagons loaded
with provisions and three flat-bottom row boats. The end of the first day
found them at the head of the Everglades, but the saw grass and water pre-
vented them from going any further by teams, so they abandoned them and
left with their row boats filled with provisions. They patiently cut their
way through the saw grass and brush, finding snakes so numerous that a
few of the party returned to Fort Myers. The first night out they slept on
an island; not having any tents, they slept on grass and leaves. They started
early the second day, making good headway, covered a good many miles
and passed several Islands and Cypress swamps. As they approached the
real heart of the Everglades the water became deeper and the lakes more
numerous. (They had to abandon their row boats and carry their supplies


in 50-lb. bags on their shoulders.) The first few days were easy going, but
it soon became tiresome. Just east of the lakes they found a great stretch
of white sand spotted here and there with grasses and just enough water to
make progress more difficult.
Arriving at an island covered with thick underbrush, hammock, and
cypress trees, they pitched camp for the night. They retired early on ac-
count of the strenuous going during the day and were aroused about mid-
night by the cries of wildcats and panthers. These prowlers had made their
way to the outdoor kitchen and were feasting on ham and bacon which the
cook had hung on the branch of a tree. One of the men picked up his gun,
took several shots, but no one dared venture too near. Early next morning
they found they had a prize of two wildcats and a panther. As they were
eating their breakfast one of the men spied, off at a distance, a little black
bear. He wasn't really black, however, for he had wallowed in the flour
bag the night before while hunting for the sugar bag.
Again they started, covered many miles and had almost made Fort
Dallas when they saw an Indian in his canoe. They hailed him and learned
that they had only 25 miles more to travel. From the time of their meeting
with the wildcats and panthers (and the loss of their ham and bacon) they
had been very hungry, having only grits to eat, which they were forced to
ration in diminutive portions.
In the meantime, Mrs. Tuttle was becoming anxious. Several weeks had
passed; she had received no word from the expedition, so she had a tall
flagpole erected on her grounds and a flag flying, hoping that if Mr. Ingraham
and his party were anywhere near they could locate her property.
The Brickells, living on the south side of the River, had established
quite a trading post with the Indians and Mrs. Tuttle also became very
friendly with the Indians and made a practice of allowing the Indian fami-
lies to land on her property and lie around while the braves did their trading
with the Brickells. They brought in alligator hides and otter skins and
traded them for groceries and ammunition. Mrs. Tuttle was especially
friendly with one Indian named Matlo. She often visited their camps and
attended their dances. In fact, Matlo once said to Mrs. Tuttle, "You be my
squaw". In other words, he wanted to marry her but Mrs. Tuttle couldn't
see it that way. However, she did ask him to do her a favor. She engaged
Matlo, with two or three other Indians, to go into the Everglades and search
for the missing party. In about a week Matlo returned with the nearly
starved Ingraham party. They had had only about two tablespoonfuls of
grits a day each to live on. This Indian, Matlo, was severely punished by


his Chief for assisting the white men across the Everglades. The lobes of
his ears were cut off and he was sent into exile on a lonely island for
three months.
The Brickells and the Tuttles continually tried to interest people in
coming into Dade County, or rather, to Fort Dallas. Mr. Flagler had
started his railroad, which ran from Jacksonville to St. Augustine, from St.
Augustine to Daytona, from Daytona to New Smyrna, and from New Smyrna
to Ft. Pierce. During this time Mrs. Tuttle wrote him numerous letters and
made several trips to see him, urging him to extend the railroad to Fort
Dallas, but he couldn't see it that way. He ran his railroad into West Palm
Beach in 1893.
In 1894-1895 the State of Florida had a terrible freeze which killed
almost all the orange trees and vegetables in the State, causing millionaires
to become paupers. Florida was in a terrible condition. At this time Mrs.
Tuttle wrote Mr. Flagler another letter. Mr. Ingraham had switched from
the Plant System to the FEC with Mr. Flagler, and together they discussed
Mrs. Tuttle's proposition. Mr. Flagler sent Mr. Ingraham and Mr. Parrott
down to see Mrs. Tuttle and when they arrived here, they too were carried
away with the beautiful surroundings. Mrs. Tuttle made up a box of fruits
and vegetables, palms and flowers, and had them sent to Mr. Flagler to
prove to him that the freeze had not hurt this part of the State. When Mr.
Ingraham and Mr. Parrott returned to St. Augustine with the box of fruit
and flowers, Mr. Flagler immediately became interested and said, "How can
I go down there?" Mr. Ingraham said, "It will take about three days to
notify Mrs. Tuttle." This was done and Mr. Flagler, Mr. Ingraham, and
Mr. Parrott took a special train to West Palm Beach, then a boat from there
to Fort Lauderdale. Mr. McDonald, Mr. Flagler's contractor, accompanied
them. Mrs. Tuttle met them at Fort Lauderdale and brought them to Fort
Dallas in a wagon and a buckboard.
They arrived here late in the afternoon, looked the situation over, and
before midnight of that night, on Mrs. Tuttle's front porch, an agreement
was entered into with Mrs. Tuttle and Mrs. Brickell whereby Mr. Flagler was
to build his railroad to Fort Dallas, build a hotel, a freight and passenger
depot, and was also to lay out the City of Miami. In return Mrs. Tuttle and
Mrs. Brickell were to give half of their holdings in real estate to Mr. Flagler.
Mr. Flagler instructed Mr. McDonald to build the hotel, Mr. Parrott to
extend the railroad to Miami, and Mr. Ingraham was to lay out the city.
The next morning the party took a boat and went up the Miami River,
and were again carried away with the beautiful scenery. They also took a


trip down the Bay and Mr. Flagler said, "This country has wonderful possi-
bilities." On returning from the boat trip, Mr. Flagler was walking around
Mrs. Tuttle's grounds when he sprained his ankle. Before we could get him
back to the house his ankle was so swollen his shoe had to be cut off with a
knife. We sat him in a chair on Mrs. Tuttle's upper porch, and Mrs. Tuttle
and Maggie Carney, the Tuttle cook, put hot bandages on his leg. While he
was sitting there smoking a cigar Mrs. Tuttle asked him just how much of
the railroad he did own. Mr. Flagler replied, "Just as much as I own of
this cigar." This, of course, pleased Mrs. Tuttle very much, for she knew
she was dealing direct with the owner.
The party left for St. Augustine a couple of days later, and it leaked
out that the railroad was to be extended to Fort Dallas. People began com-
ing in by the hundreds. Bay Biscayne was filled with boats. A hack line
was started from West Palm Beach to Miami; barges were built to cross the
streams and rivers to Fort Dallas. People who came here lived in tents and
palmetto huts, while hundreds of them slept in their boats while waiting for
the railroad to arrive. Days went by, weeks went by, and people became
frantic. Their money had already been spent for groceries and groceries
were getting scarce. The Brickell Point Store was the only place to obtain
supplies, and it took them about two weeks to go to Key West and return
with each new supply of provisions.
Finally word was received that Mr. McDonald, Mr. Riley, E. G. Sewell
and John Sewell would arrive the next day to start work on clearing the
grounds for the Royal Palm Hotel. On March 15th, 1896, this party ar-
rived. The people were wild with joy, knowing that their long wait was
over. The following day the old stern-wheeler "St. Lucie" arrived with
tools of every description-wheel barrows, shovels, etc., along with 12 col-
ored men, and work was started on the point where the Royal Palm grounds
are today. At that time there was an Indian Mound about ten or eleven feet
high, and this had to be leveled down in order to erect the Hotel.
Work of clearing the grounds was almost completed when Mr. McDonald
told all his employees that the train would be here in thirty days. The first
train arrived April 15, 1896, bringing lumber and building supplies. Sev-
eral trains followed later, but the first official train bringing passengers
arrived here April 22, 1896, about nine o'clock at night. The first official
engineer was Herbert S. Rogers, while the first official conductor was Ed
Mr. McDonald built the first house on the Bay Front and used it for
his residence and office. Catholic Church services were also held there on


Sunday. He also built the first hotel-the Biscayne. Mr. Connelly built
the Connelly House and Mrs. Tuttle erected the Miami Hotel, a 200-room
frame structure with porches around the second story.
As building materials arrived, cottages were erected and stores were
built. The first store was a clothing store opened by Isidor Cohen. I will
have to tell you a little story of how Isidor first came to Miami. He arrived
in Lemon City in 1896 with several large boxes of dry goods. Being unable
to secure a boat large enough to bring his merchandise to Fort Dallas, he
stored them in a fish house in Lemon City. He finally managed to secure
a boat and began loading. As he was about to load an extra large and
rather heavy box of dry goods, it fell overboard. Of course, Isidor exclaimed
that he was "ruined, ruined", but in due time this box was lifted, the water
was drained out and it was loaded on the schooner. When Isidor reached
Miami he landed on the south side of the Miami River. He immediately
hung his dry goods, including laces and wearing apparel, all over the
branches of the hammocks there at the time. In a few days he had an auction
sale and sold out almost the entire stock.
The first drug store was opened by Townley Brothers; the first grocery
stores were opened by Mr. J. E. Lummus and Mr. E. L. Brady; the first cold
storage plant was opened by Lake and Goodwin; L. C. Oliver opened the
first lumber yard; Salem Graham, the first bakery; Alice Brickell was the
first postmistress; and the first photographers were Geer and Campen, who
worked in a tent on Avenue "D" (now Miami Avenue).
As work on the Royal Palm Hotel progressed and was about ready for
the plastering, I walked down the Bay Front one day and saw a man sitting
there crying. He was an Irishman named Jerry Hourihan. I went up to
Jerry and asked him what in the world was the matter. He burst into loud
weeping and finally I got it out of him that he had received no mail in three
weeks, and that he usually got two letters a week from Ireland. I said,
"Jerry, have you been to the Post Office?" He replied, "Yes, but there is
nothing there." As I was going fishing, I invited Jerry to go with me, which
he did. We went down to the River front, pulled ourselves across on a
barge and chain, landed at Brickell Point, got out on the dock and fished.
We fished there for about an hour and a half, caught quite a mess of fish,
and as I had brought lunch along, I said to Jerry-"You eat this while I
go up to the Post Office and see if there is any mail." The Post Office was
at that time on the south side of the Miami River. While at the Post Office
and grocery stores I inquired for mail for myself. There were two letters
for me, and I then asked for mail for Jerry Hourihan and received this very


curt reply from the lady clerk-"I have been telling that old Irishman for
three weeks there wasn't any mail for him." Going back, I found Jerry half
asleep under a coconut tree. There was a trash pile nearby. Someone had
set fire to it but being damp from the rain, it was not burning very fast.
Jerry was sitting there half asleep with his fishing rod in his hand. He was
slapping it up and down on the ground and happened to hit this trash pile.
That started a fresh blaze. This awoke Jerry and he noticed some letters in
the pile of trash. He got up, walked over in a hurry, stooped down, and
saw on these letters, "Jerry Hourihan". There were four or five letters
there all bearing his name. He didn't know what in the world to make of
it, but was the happiest Irishman I had seen in many a year. We pulled
ourselves back to the other side of the river (on the barge) and of course
Jerry had to tell everybody we met about his letters.
The first Bus System was organized by Mr. Brundage; the first Dairy
was operated by Louis Becker of Allapattah; the Gas Company was organized
by H. M. Van Court; Mrs. Tuttle opened the first Episcopal Church with
Father Huntington presiding; the first ferry to run to Miami Beach was the
boat "Sally", operated by a man named Burch; the first bicycle shop was
opened by Charles Thompson; the first hardware store by Frank T. Budge;
the first pool room belonged to a man named Chase; the first steamship to
operate out of Miami was the "Miami" owned by the Florida East Coast
Railway Company; the first passenger boat between Key West and Miami
was the "City of Key West", a large boat and a side-wheeler; the first club
to be organized was the Tuxedo, which was afterwards made the Elks Club.
Rev. E. V. Blackman organized the first County Fair in the State of
Florida in the Royal Palm Hotel in 1897.
The first bank was opened by Banker W. M. Brown. I will have to tell
you a little story on Banker Brown. In the early days a man named Schnei-
derman opened a gents' clothing store. He had quite a nice stock, but one
day he went into the hands of a receiver. Isidor Cohen, who knew Schneider-
man very well, and also knew me, came to me and said, "Joe, I want you
to do me a favor." He said, "Go down and offer Banker Brown $400 for
Schneiderman's stock." I went down and saw Mr. Brown. He politely told
me he couldn't do anything about it until the Board of Directors met, which
was once a week. Several days later Mr. Brown stopped by my office and
told me he would accept Mr. Cohen's offer. Mr. Cohen went down and closed
the deal with Mr. Brown. Then he went to Scheiderman and gave him the
bill of sale to start over again. He said to Schneiderman, "Now, don't you
do this again."


Mr. Flagler was the first man to build substantial residences for the
people of Miami. He built thirty-five. People at that time were living
mostly in shacks and tents. Mr. Flagler made the remark, "The people of
Miami are entitled to better homes," so he erected them. Some of them are
standing today on S. E. 2nd St.
As the town got pretty well under way Mr. McDonald suggested that it
should be incorporated. Politics got pretty lively, and the city of Miami
was incorporated on the 28th day of July, 1896, with 520 voters. John B.
Reilly was elected the first Mayor. Mr. Reilly has since passed on. Jack
Graham was elected City Clerk.
The first white boy born in Miami was the son of John B. Reilly. The
first doctor in our midst was Dr. James M. Jackson. Dr. Baskin was at
Lemon City and Dr. Simmons in Coconut Grove.
On January 18, 1897, Mr. Flagler completed and opened the Royal Palm
Hotel. He wired Mr. Plant, of the west coast, to come over to Miami to the
opening. Mr. Plant wired back "Where is Miami?" Mr. Flagler replied,
"Just follow the crowd."
The first excursion from Jacksonville to Miami was in 1896, the train
arriving here on a Saturday. The first church services were held in a tent
across the street from where the Miami Herald is today. The church was
filled to overflowing. The mosquitoes were bad; in fact, almost unbearable,
and the smoke from the smudges was terrible. Rev. E. V. Blackman was to
hold the services that night. He arrived late. He pushed his way through
the crowd into the pulpit and said, "Let's sing 'Praise God from Whom All
Blessings Flow'," gave the benediction and dismissed the crowd. A number
of the people then woke up some of the storekeepers and purchased all the
mosquito netting available. I can remember several occasions where church
services were held in the Dauthit building on N. E. 1st Street, and everybody
that attended brought their smudge pot and a switch in order to kill the
There was a convention of the Florida Tobacco Growers Association held
at the Royal Palm Hotel in 1897. Rev. Blackman, who was representing the
East Coast, and also editor of the Florida East Coast Homeseeker, conceived
the idea that it would advertise this part of the country to hold a Fair. He
went to Mr. Merrill, Manager of the Royal Palm Hotel, and asked him if
he could have one of the rooms on the ground floor for this purpose. This
was granted. Rev. Blackman wired Mr. Ingraham at St. Augustine what he
had done. Mr. Ingraham was very pleased and said, "Draw on me for your
expenses." He shipped down a large tent which was used to display the


many vegetables, fruits and palms which Mr. Blackman was instrumental in
securing. These vegetables were raised by a man named Richards and C. O.
Richardson, who were the first to raise vegetables in Miami. This fair was
such a success that Mr. Flagler erected a Fair Building on the Bayfront.
This later had to be enlarged. Mr. Blackman has the honor to be the first
man in the State of Florida to hold a County Fair.
Miami had its first fire at Christmas in 1896. It destroyed many of the
buildings, among which was that of a man named Castelanno who was manu-
facturing beverages of different kinds. When his building burned, a large
tank exploded, a particle of which struck a man named Frank one block
away, instantly killing him. Not long after that Frank's son climbed a
coconut tree in front of the Royal Palm Hotel, fell from the top and
broke his neck.
Our first Fire Department was organized by M. J. McDonald. We used
to have daily practice pulling a reel down Flagler Street. The first string
band was organized by the writer in 1897. It consisted of Earl Munfort,
Louis Wolf, Mr. Rutherford and myself. We used to practice every Sunday
afternoon in the Biscayne Building.
The first telephone company was organized by J. R. Dewey in the spring
of 1898, on the second floor of the Kronowitter Building. He started with
half a dozen subscribers, and I can see Mr. Dewey today making fast his
wires from house to house and from tree to tree. In a few months time he
had something like a hundred subscribers.
One Sunday afternoon Dewey heard our orchestra and stopped in to listen.
He asked if we would like to come up to his office some Sunday night, stat-
ing that he would like to have his subscribers listen in on their 'phones. We
went up two weeks later and played for an hour and a half.
I also organized our first brass band. Mr. Weaver was our leader. We
practiced in the old church tent across from where the Herald building now
stands. We made many chords and discords, and the neighbors all threat-
ened to put us out of business, but we managed, in the course of several
months time, to play one piece very nicely and we used to march up and
down Flagler Street playing this one piece.
The first man to take an interest in the boys of Miami was Dan Hardie.
He organized the Swaves and had about 25 or 30 boys in his organization.
They drilled regularly and were very fine performers. It was an interesting
sight, especially when they came out in full dress-green bloomer trousers,


white shirts, blue vests, and red fezzes. We were very proud of Dan Hardie
and his company.
The first steam car to arrive was owned by a man named Correll. Mr.
Rice used to operate this car and one day he stopped in front of the Hoefer
Bakery, went in, purchased some bread, and before he came out his steam
car started up and ran across the street into the Forsell building, breaking
the plate glass windows.
The first gasoline car, an E. R. Thomas Flyer, was owned by the writer.
It was a one-lunger, with the engine under the back seat. We had only a
few miles of road around Miami-Flagler Street, Miami Avenue, and the
road to Buena Vista. It seemed that every time I got as far as the ceme-
tery the gasket would blow out and I would have to be towed in. Bob Einig
was the first gasoline engineer in Miami.
The first steamship line between Miami and Key West operated the
steamer City of Key West. The first trip was made on May 21, 1896. The
steamer left at 5 A.M. after the arrival of the early morning train.
The first newspaper published in Miami was the Metropolis, operated
by Walter S. Graham and his assistant, W. M. Featherly. The first piece of
real estate was sold by Charlie Oxlar to a man named Benest. It was a
forty acre tract where Miramar is located today. The purchase price was
a white mule and a wagon. The first subdivision to be laid out adjoining
the city of Miami was by Robbins, Graham and Chillingsworth. Among the
first real estate men were A. E. Kingsley and E. L. White who represented
Mrs. Julia D. Tuttle. Fred Morse represented the Florida East Coast Rail-
way and other corporate interests. There were also J. B. Bailey of the Fort
Dallas Land Company and E. A. Waddell,
Our first judge was A. E. Hyser. Our first judicial officers were Robert
R. Taylor, S. L. Patterson, and G. A. Worley. The first criminal court was
presided over by J. T. Sanders. The first case tried in Miami courts was
for disorderly conduct, for driving a horse recklessly on the streets. Such
cases were usually tried before Mayor John B. Reilly. The fine for reck-
less driving was one dollar, for fighting one dollar, and for cursing one
another five dollars. Robbins, Graham and Chillingworth were the first
lawyers. A well known citizen was once hailed into court for having slept
in the streets over night. Being unable to pay the one doller fine, he was
required to work ten days on the streets. Y. F. Gray was our first city

1. K. DORN

The first real trial was that of a Negro charged with manslaughter. It
was held in the court room down on the Miami River in an old frame build-
ing used as a fish house. Court was held on the second floor in the one
large room. On the first floor were fishing nets and barrels. The trial
lasted several days. Robert R. Taylor was defending the Negro. The jury
was composed of twelve Conchs. Just as Bob Taylor was finishing his speech
to the jury, someone downstairs yelled, "There's a wreck on the Beach!
There's a wreck on the Beach!" He went all around Miami yelling this. In
less than ten minutes there was not a juryman in the box. They jumped out
the windows, ran down the stairs, and made for their fishing smacks, for
in those days the first man to arrive at a wreck was made captain of the
wrecking operations, and others received shares according to the time of
their arrival.
The first cigar manufacturer was E. Gonzalez. Huntington and Tyler
were pioneer hotel men. C. T. McCrimmon operated the first livery stable.
Chase and Harney set up the first fire insurance business. Reynolds and
Hull operated the first fish and oyster business. Before hotels were built
Captain E. E. Vail operated the floating hotel Rockledge. John Kronowitter
kept the first tailor's establishment.
A clause in the Warranty deeds from both Mrs. Julia Tuttle and Henry
M. Flagler to the City of Miami made it unlawful to sell liquor within the
city limits. Outside the city limits Billy Woods and the Singleton Company
provided this service.
The first jewelers were R. J. and W. L. Riles. The first brick store build-
ing was erected by the Frank T. Budge Hardware store. Cabott and Carrell
first contracted to build roads and streets in the new city being laid out under
Henry M. Flagler's direction. These men lacked experience in the type of
road building required by the rock base, and when they failed the contract
was turned over to John Sewell for completion. Harry Tuttle, son of Mrs.
Julia D. Tuttle, was the first to drill a well for water in Dade County. It
was a four inch well to supply the Miami Hotel.
The first school was started by Captain C. J. Rose. The captain was
much interested in children, and he disliked to see Miami's children grow
up without schooling. He tried without much success to interest numerous
other people in the need for formal education. Finally, he and a few others
gathered what lumber they could find around Miami, went over to the Beach
and picked up what they could from wrecks, tied it together with wire,
floated it across the bay and laid it out on the beach to dry. In a short time


they had enough lumber to erect a small three room building. Mrs. Ada
Merritt was the first teacher. The same C. J. Rose was later to be the first
manufacturer of concrete blocks.
Doctors M. D. L. Dodson and R. E. Chafer were our first dentists. The
first funeral home was operated by Edwin Nelson who also had the first
furniture store. His first burial was hauled to the cemetery in a small
wagon pulled by a pony that was led by Nelson himself. Fifty dollars cov-
ered all expenses of the burial. The first burial at sea was in charge of
H. M. King. The deceased was Captain A. R. Simmons of Coconut Grove
who had made arrangements with Kirk Munroe, the author, to bury him at
sea in the Gulf Stream. A large anchor weighing some 400 pounds was
attached and the body lowered into the sea as the deceased Captain had
Among the first to make orange and grapefruit groves were C. J. Rose,
Bernice Potter, Skyles Plant, John Douglas and C. E. Davis.
In 1897 we had a terrible freeze. It killed all fruit trees in the State of
Florida back to the ground. It was so cold in Miami that a bucket of water
thrown on the streets would freeze in a few minutes. The streets were cov-
ered with birds. I picked up 27 mocking birds, stuck them inside my shirt,
took them to my room and kept them alive. The vegetables were killed and
the coconut trees were burned brown. Mr. Flagler was at the Royal Palm
at the time and he wired for Mr. Ingraham to come from St. Augustine. Mr.
Ingraham and Mr. Parrott had already been around to see a number of the
farmers and offered to give them seeds free of charge and to haul their fer-
tilizer without charge. Mr. Ingraham arrived at the Royal Palm at six
o'clock in the morning. Mr. Flagler was standing out in front. He didn't
take time to say good morning, but immediately went into a private room.
He said to Mr. Ingraham, "Just how bad is this freeze?" Mr. Ingraham re-
plied that it was a terrible loss and told Mr. Flagler about what he had done
and the offers he had made the farmers. Mr. Flagler said "That is all right
as far as you have gone, but you haven't gone far enough. I want you to go
out right away and see these people. Tell them they can have all the seed
they want and also all the fertilizer. We will take their notes at 6 per cent.
You can draw on me for $50,000, $100,000, $150,000 or $200,000, whatever
you need. I would rather lose it all than to have any man, woman or child
in Dade County suffer."
In 1898 the war with Spain broke out. The Maine was wrecked in the
harbor of Cuba, and of course all Miamians thought the war would be


brought over to the Florida shores. In fact, we became so worried that we
had the state build us a sand fort about a mile south of Brickell Point, ad-
joining Commodore Roome's place. The state also sent us two 10-inch guns
which we never used, but they were admired by all who saw them.
We had 7200 troops stationed in Miami and did they paint the town red!
What we now call hot dog stands were all over the city. Townley Brothers,
the only drug store, was doing a rushing business. In fact, they had six
large barrels all connected at the top by a small pipe, all filled with water,
made into lemonade, and it would take only a few hours to empty them.
One afternoon a couple of boys from Company L of Texas came out of
Townley Brothers' store and walked over to what is now Budge's Hardware
store. A big, burly negro was coming down the sidewalk on what is now
Miami Avenue. Two ladies were walking towards him. Instead of the negro
stepping off the sidewalk and allowing the ladies to pass, he made the ladies
get off and let him pass. This was too much for the boys from Texas. They
grabbed this negro, gave him a good beating and started to string him up
to a pine tree across the street. Some officers happened to come along just
in time to prevent a tragedy, but the boys did string up the negro's shirt. The
negro was taken back to colored town and everything was quiet until eight
o'clock that night.
Negro town then was across the railroad tracks and Flagler Street, about
40 or 50 houses. That night Company L of Texas marched through colored
town, pulled out their colts and shot out every kerosene lamp found burn-
ing. This caused a stampede of the colored people to Avenue G bridge
on their way to Coconut Grove. Next morning our restaurants, hotels and
stores were without help, so we sent a squad to Coconut Grove and promised
them they would be protected, so they returned and by eleven o'clock were
working again.
But that wasn't enough for the boys from Company L. The next night
they marched north a mile, outside the city limits to a place where liquor
was sold. Billy Woods was operating a saloon and he had a colored depart-
ment. The boys went into the saloon and threw rocks at all the bottles
standing on the counters. They were eventually quieted down and taken
back to camp.
The troops caused so much trouble and dissension among the colored
people that the people of Miami complained to the authorities and they were
finally withdrawn from Miami and sent to Jacksonville and Tampa.


After the troops left Miami we had another fire in which the Miami
Hotel was destroyed. John Frohock was our Sheriff at that time. His men
sent their officers into the burning hotel and rescued Dr. Fowler.
We had another catastrophe after the troops left-yellow fever. A great
many of you may not know how the yellow fever started in Miami. I will
give you a brief history of it. A man named Hargrove and myself were
giving dancing lessons in Mrs. Tuttle's hotel, the hotel being closed for the
summer. Mr. Hargrove and two men named Brittingham and Saxelby and
myself had rooms on the second floor. Every Saturday night we had these
dances. One Saturday night Mr. Hargrove didn't show up. There was a
Captain who ran a cattle boat between Miami and Cuba whom Hargrove was
accustomed to visit when he was in port. The next morning I went down to
the docks to see if he was with this captain. It seems that on one of the
return trips of this boat the Captain had buried two men at sea with yellow
fever. In those days, of course, we had no Custom House office, and the
boats came and went as they pleased. Hargrove and this Captain were good
friends and used to play poker together. When I got to the boat I asked
for Hargrove and was told he was ill. I immediately hired a colored hack
driver, got Hargrove into the carriage, took him to the Miami Hotel and put
him to bed. I called for Dr. Jackson, but he wasn't available until the aft-
ernoon. When he came he prescribed medicine and asked me to stay with
Hargrove and give him his medicine every two hours, saying that he was a
very sick man. Several days later Dr. Jackson wired for Dr. Porter of Key
West to come up at once. The trip took Dr. Porter two and one half days.
He examined Mr. Hargrove and immediately pronounced it yellow fever.
You can imagine how I felt. I thought every minute I was going to die, as
I had taken care of him during these several days. Dr. Porter told Dr.
Jackson to immediately quarantine the city and not allow anyone to go out
or come in. He did say this, that all those who wanted to leave Miami could
go into quarantine for ten days and then leave. The old stern-wheeler
"Saint Lucie" was chartered and anchored about two miles down Biscayne
Bay for ten days. About a hundred people went on board.
Meanwhile Dr. Porter put my two friends and myself on a separate boat,
as we had all been exposed to the fever. This boat was also taken down to
the head of the bay. Every afternoon we went in bathing and would swim
over to the "Saint Lucie". They didn't let us come too close, however, and
would pick up an oar or a board and threaten us. In fact, one man pulled
out his gun, in fear that we would attempt to get on the boat. When the


ten days were up the Saint Lucie landed at Buena Vista and all on board
went to different parts of Florida. Our crew, as I called them, and I came
back to Miami and Dr. Jackson asked me if I would assist him. He said he
would give me $10 a week. As the fever spread throughout Miami Dr.
Jackson and I were kept pretty busy. I used to go around with him every
morning and afternoon. It was my duty to post the yellow flag in front of
every building where there was a case of yellow fever, and to make a record
of the names and deaths and post these on a blackboard placed in front of
the Townley Brothers' Drug Store.

About November 10th we had a very cold snap. There were no new
cases of fever after that so the quarantine was lifted on December 1st, and
business went on as usual.
Some of you may be interested in knowing how yellow fever was treated.
This will give you some idea. A group of us were standing on the corner
one day during the epidemic. There was a fellow with us named Oscar
Nicholson whom a great many of you may know. He was with Raulerson
& Company's meat market. He was a great big strapping man. Suddenly
he had a terrible chill. We immediately rushed him to his room, got a
bucket of boiling water in which we placed his feet, put him to bed with
several blankets over him, a mustard plaster on his stomach and cracked ice
around his throat and at the top of his head. In a few minutes he was de-
lirious. It took six of us to hold him in bed. He would yell until, as the
old saying is, you could hear him in Cuba. The six of us held him in bed
for five hours until he finally dozed off from weakness. The next morning
he was convalescent. He was fed mostly on liquids and especially a tea
made from roasted watermelon seed which we thought in those days was a
cure for yellow fever. We didn't know at that time that the fever was caused
by a mosquito bite.
Some of you remember Von Mose, an old German photographer who
was here in the early days. He had quite a collection of snakes and reptiles.
He finally moved over to the Beach and opened up a menagerie inside a
wire enclosure. One day he came to my office and wanted to collect a little
money; said he had an express package on which some odd dollars charges
were due. He said it contained a large boa constrictor from South America.
I helped him out with a small amount and others did likewise. He got his
package and hauled it down to the boat "Sally" which was run by a man
named Burch. The boa constrictor was taken over to the Beach and turned


loose inside the wire cage. Von Mose was quite a character. The owner of
"Sally" did quite a business taking people over to see this snake.
Three or four months later the snake escaped. Von Mose was very un-
happy. One afternoon Dorwood Moran, Wilbur Hendrickson, Harry Flood
and I went squirrel hunting down in Brickell Hammock. We had walked
about a mile and a half to the old Punch Bowl in which there was a spring
of fresh water. It was used by the Spaniards and Pirates in the early days.
The remains of an old Spanish chimney were still nearby. The forest
around was almost impenetrable. As we sat there chatting in front of the
Punch Bowl we looked up among the trees and saw a large snake, reddish in
color. I said, "There is Von Mose's boa constrictor." We were frightened
even though we each had a gun. We made our way back to the roadway,
now known as Brickell Avenue. Harry Flood and I stayed there to watch
the snake and the other two went to town to find Von Mose. They found
him in front of Budge's store and told him what we had found. Von Mose
was very excited. He hired a horse and wagon from Lester Granger, got a
couple of frying-size chickens and came down. In the meantime the snake
had made its way down to the ground. Von Mose said to me, "Hold one
of these chickens." The chickens fluttered, jumped and made a lot of noise
and this attracted the attention of the snake. Von Mose pulled off his coat,
took the other chicken, made his way through the brush over to the snake.
When he was about ten feet from the snake he kneeled down before it and
held this chicken up in front. The snake gradually coiled itself into a spiral
and raised its head about two feet. Von Mose gradually went nearer. By
this time the chicken was not moving. The snake had evidently hypnotized it.
Von Mose was holding the chicken by the head, legs and wings. He
called to me to bring him his coat, which I did. I sat behind Von Mose
watching this snake very intently and I could see the fluid running out of
its mouth. Von Mose was whistling to the snake and it opened its mouth
with a quick motion and struck the chicken. There was Von Mose and the
snake with the chicken between them. The fluid flowed more freely from
the snake's mouth, it drew its body into a coil in which it finally crushed the
chicken. Von Mose said the snake was now perfectly harmless and asked
me to help him pick it up. He threw his coat over the snake's head, and I
called the other boys to help us carry it to the wagon. We reached Miami,
stopping just east of the Biscayne Hotel. About fifty feet away was a tent
up against the Hatchet building and Von Mose said he would put the snake
in the tent. I had the other chicken, which he fed to the snake, and in about


an hour it was like dead-it had fallen asleep. The Biscayne Hotel had a
long veranda and there were quite a number of guests on it at the time. You
can imagine the crowd that gathered.
Another interesting story is of a man named Coleman Bush. He and his
wife ran a conservatory of music on Flagler Street. He was going home one
afternoon through a hammock towards Coconut Grove when he heard a
terrible scream. He said it sounded like a woman being murdered. He
came back as fast as his horse would bring him and reported it to Officers
Hendrickson and Moran. They asked me if I would go with them to in-
vestigate. It created a lot of excitement and the crowd wanted to follow
but were not allowed to do so.
We walked all the way to Coconut Grove, reaching there about eight
o'clock at night. It was pitch dark-couldn't see your hand in front of you.
We heard nothing and saw no signs of any disturbance, but as we got about
half way home, near the Punch Bowl, we saw two bright eyes on an upper
branch of a large oak tree overhanging the road. Hendrickson said, "There
is a wildcat." Moran had one of these bull's eye lanterns fastened to the top
of his head, and it reflected the light in the cat's eyes. Hendrickson shot;
the cat made one jump and landed in the hammock. Hendrickson said,
"That is the scream Coleman Bush heard." About two weeks later a couple
of colored boys were hunting in this same section and they came upon a
nine-foot panther which had evidently been dead two weeks. They re-
ported it to the officers, and that, they claimed, was what Mr. Bush thought
was a woman being murdered. They say the screams of a panther are very
similar to the cry of a woman in distress.

This Page Blank in Original
Source Document

Early Pioneers of South Florida

Miami of today is not different from what most of the Old Settlers pic-
tured it to be in days to come, in their minds. Some of them had never seen
a large city and none of them a building more than three stories high but
every one of them would tell you that there would be a large city and a
seaport some day. And I don't mean the so-called pioneers that rode in on
the first train that came in to Miami when they could go to a hotel and order
a beef steak or other fancy food and call themselves pioneers. I am writing
of the people who came here from 1840 to 1880, who lived on sow belly
and grits when they could get it, and off the land and water otherwise. For
the first settler there was no alternative. They either made comty starch
and traded it at the local store after 1870 (before that shipped it to Key West
where it was sold at auction at a price of from 1 cents a pound to some-
times 5 cents a pound). A hard working man on a hand mill could make
probably 75 lbs. in two days. In the years from 1870 to the 80's a two
pound can of corned beef cost you sixty cents and everything else in propor-
tion. Flour had dropped from $50.00 a barrel in 1866 to $8.00 a barrel in
the seventies but that was Key West price; the local store charged more. By
this you can see that it was not exactly what you would call a picnic living
anywhere on Biscayne Bay in those days. If you depended on getting your
groceries from Key West you had to buy in quantities to last you at least a
month, to be sure. The boat running to Key West was supposed to make a
round trip every two weeks, but I have known it to take three and even four
weeks to make a round trip. Some of the settlers raised a few vegetables,
the water from the comty making the ground very rich and one could raise
more than you could use with very little effort. The first fruit trees were
started around these comty mills. These fruits at first were oranges-three
kinds-sweet, sour, and bitter sweet. Avocado pears, mangoes, momie apple,
sapodilla, sugar apples, soursop, grapefruit, citron and bananas. The start
of these fruits coming from the Bahama Islands and Cuba, coming by way
of Key West to Miami. Two places had the greatest variety, over north of
the river, and Snapper Creek south of Coconut Grove. At Snapper Creek
mangoes seemed to take the lead. They were the turpentine variety but the


forerunner of the present fine quality that was later brought to Snapper
Creek section by James L. Nugent and Charles F. Siebold. Nugent made sev-
eral trips to British Honduras, collecting tropical fruits and plants that were
planted on his property adjoining Seibold's place and now known as the
Fairchild Gardens and the original Sausage Tree property now owned by
Mrs. Maud Black, the widow of Charles F. Siebold. As a matter of fact, all
the fine mangoes now grown in the Red Land district hinges around the old
turpentine fathers planted by squatters at Snapper Creek. The old Oxer
place had the greatest variety of tropical fruits of any on the bay. Other
places got their seeds and plants from there.
On the old Wagner place was the largest grove of sweet oranges then on
the bay. This was about two acres. These were all seedlings planted from
seed of oranges grown on the old Barnes place at the mouth of the river.
There were a few bananas raised on some places, also a very little sugar cane.
In those early days the settlers did not take to raising much of anything
in the vegetable line. Most of them planted only sweet potatoes and pump-
kins, both of which only need be planted but once and would continue to
grow year after year. The Indians in those days raised sweet potatoes,
pumpkins and field corn which could be bought very reasonably from them.
Wagners, during the Civil War raised vegetables of all kinds for their own
use and at one time the squatters at Snapper Creek raised quite a lot of
produce but as there was no one who would buy it most of it was wasted.
The first vegetables raised for market were tomatoes, raised by A. C. Richards
on the old Wagner place. He tried it as an experiment, shipping them to
New York. The experiment proved that it could be done if you had the
nerve to take a chance, the chance being to get the tomatoes from Miami to
New York before they rotted on the way. These tomatoes were shipped
from Miami to Key West by sail boat, the captain of which cared little about
how quick he made the trip to Key West. You will understand that a great
deal depended on the speed of these boats from Miami to Key West. They
left Miami on Monday and the steamers for New York left Key West on
Friday once a week; so if the Miami boat did not reach Key West in time
your tomatoes stayed in Key West for a week. Of course the tomatoes were
picked and packed green, for the very best time that could be made from
Miami to New York was eight days. Charles H. Lum followed Richards
raising tomatoes. He raised them on what is now Miami Beach, later moving
on the Miami River. Richards moved near Snapper Creek and continued to


raise tomatoes until the homesteaders came in and they began raising toma-
toes and peppers. Transportation had by this time improved a little by
larger and faster boats. Soon after the homesteaders came there were two
schooners put on between Miami and Jacksonville that helped a great deal.
Up to the time the homesteaders came there was little change in the popula-
tion on the bay. The old timers were waiting and hoping for something to
start, always sure it was coming. Pretty near every year there would be a
little spurt. Someone would come in and tell what he was going to do but
a few days would be the end of it. At last Lemon City started up a bit and
then stayed about the same. Coconut Grove had grown a little and when the
homesteaders came that gave Coconut Grove quite a burst, as they were all
on the south side of the river. Then the old timers were sure that the time
had come, but still there was no railroad in sight or anything better than
sail boat transportation. A man by the name of Harrington tried a little
steamer between Lemon City and Key West but couldn't make a go of it
When the homesteaders came that put an end to comty starch making and
farming took its place. Grapefruit and orange groves were planted and
while transportation did not improve much, prospects were very much better.
There now were three general stores on the Bay, one at Lemon City, Brickell's
store at Miami, and two at Coconut Grove, Peacock's and Shone's. This was
the way things were on the Bay when Mrs. Julia D. Tuttle came to Miami and
took over the land on the North side of the river. She was there a little
more than a year when things began to move with the result of what you
can see now in 1942. But I do not see that the people that arrived on the
railroad were the pioneers as the stage was all set for them.
Ferguson and wife and his partner Adams started building a water power
mill to make comty starch at the headwater of the Miami River. Both got the
gold fever in '49 and left for California. Later years Ferguson returned to
Key West.
Wm. Wagner and St. Clare came to Miami to supply food for soldiers
then stationed at Ft. Dallas, as the last Indian war was then going on. They
built a mill to make comty starch. This mill was about 11/ miles from the
entrance to Miami River on the shores of a small creek that later became
known as Wagner Creek. St. Clare left in '59 when war seemed to be a cer-
tainty. Wagner stayed on. At that time there were two schooners running
between Charleston, S. C., and Miami making one stop at Indian River. Mrs.


Wagner came to Miami with her two children, William and Rose. On the
day after their arrival peace was declared with the Indians. And soon after
the soldiers left Ft. Dallas and the boats between Miami and Charleston
were discontinued. At this time '58-'59 there was a man by name of Lewis
living on the shore of the river about two miles from the mouth of the river.
He made quite a clearing and built a dwelling house on the high land and
on the bank of the river had a dock and store. He had slaves to do his work.
He left suddenly just before war was declared between the North and South.
The buildings were burnt down by the U. S. forces. About 1857 there came
two brothers named Adams, John and Nicolas. They settled about a mile
from the head of the river. They were almost direct from Germany and
known to be strong Southern sympathizers. Nicolas left just as war was de-
clared and was never heard from again by his brother or any one. John
stayed and managed to dodge the U. S. forces, made a living by beach
combing and later making compty starch until he committed suicide in
1883, having lived at the same place all this time and not acquiring any
property to speak of or any real estate at all. In 1858 there was a family
living on the south side of the Miami River by the name of Fletcher, Mr.
and Mrs., and two daughters Manda and Roseln. Later they moved to Key
West. From the time the Fletchers left until after the war I do not know
who lived there until Dr. Harris came. Then a Dr. Harris lived there for a
while. He was a Minister and U. S. Commissioner. He also moved to Key
West. Then a family by name of Barnes, Charley, his mother and sister.
Barnes ran a schooner between Miami and Key West and on one of his trips
to Key West caught yellow fever and died soon after reaching home. Soon
after his death his mother and sister returned to New York, their original
home. Barnes, according to the Dade Co. Tax Book, owned the property and
a Mrs. Gilbert bought it next for a winter home and owned it until the
Flagler interests took over.

Now go back to the beginning of the war. The Wagners lived on the
river, also John Adams. At Ft. Dallas I do not know that any one was living
at that time. But soon after the war began the U. S. Government sent three
families of refugees to live in the old officers quarters. Their names were
Dotreys, Yomens and Halls. Also about the time the war began a man by
the name of Mical Zair (in Dade Co. Tax Book as Mical Sears) (locally
known as French Mike), his son George, and daughter Caroline. They set-
tled between what became known as Buena Vista and Lemon City. He ran
a store during the war when he could get anything to sell. He lived there


until he died. His son went up on Indian River and his daughter went to
live with a family in Key West by the name of Currey. After peace was
established an ex-Union soldier drifted in by name of Mical Oxer (locally
known as Dutch Mike). He later homesteaded on the bay front, married,
and had 4 children. Also about this time Andrew Barr came here from
Massachusetts and homesteaded on the Miami River.
In the time from the 60's to 80's names of places on the bay were dif-
ferent from what they are now. North of the Miami River was known as Little
River, later becoming Lemon City. North of that was Arch Creek. And
still farther was Snake Creek. At the head of Biscayne Bay there was an-
other small sheet of water known as Dumbfoundling Bay. On the beach
side of the bay was Bakers Haulover. South of that was Indian Creek. In
the late 70's the government built the house of refuge there. Still farther
south was a landing called Bremon landing. Just north of this landing was
a small island called Bull Island, in reality not an island as there was no
dry land on it. A mile south of Bremon landing was Narrows Cut, the inlet
separating Virginia Key from the main beach. Next was Bear Cut separat-
ing Virginia Key from Key Biscayne and Cape Florida. South of the Miami
River was Little Hunting grounds, later known as Coconut Grove. And
farther south was Big Hunting grounds later known as Cutler. This was on
the Perrine grant. Between Little and Big Hunting grounds were Enfinger
and Snapper Creeks.
In 1871 W. B. Brickell came to Miami with his family and located on
the south side of the mouth of the Miami River and opened a saloon and
general store. Later discontinuing the saloon, he ran the store until the rail-
road reached Miami. His oldest girl, Alice, became postmaster in Miami,
until after Miami was incorporated as a city. She replaced J. W. Ewan who
was postmaster and the office was shifted from the north side to the south
side of the river. Alice Brickell was also school teacher in Lemon City for
a term. About 1871 Hunt and Gleason came to Miami and located for a
while at Ft. Dallas, later moving to the head of the Bay. I do not know if
the Biscayne Bay Co. owned the grant on the north side of the river at this
time or not. Anyway, soon after they moved the Biscayne Bay Co. put a
man by name of Sharp in charge of the place. He didn't stay very long and
was replaced by a man named Luvlice (Lovelace?). He was replaced by
J. W. Ewan who held the position until Mrs. Tuttle took possession of the


During the seventies there settled at the head of the Bay Mr. Sturtevant
and his wife, the father and mother of Mrs. Tuttle. At Little River settled
the Potter brothers, R. B. and George. Also a young man, William Mathare,
settled at Little River. He came to Miami with Hunt and Gleason. He was
Sheriff of Dade County for a number of years. Also with Hunt and Gleason
came a colored man who was made a Justice of the Peace by the Hunt and
Gleason party. This colored man was captain of the mail boat between
Miami and Key West. A lazier, slower person I never met and he could not
write his own name. During the years from 1870 to 1880 there was a num-
ber of drifters come in but did not stay long. Some few of them put up
hand mills and made comty starch, the only thing anyone could do to make
a living. Others just bummed on the settlers. To get to Miami in those
days one either had to walk the beach from Lake Worth or come by boat
from Key West. Daniel Clark came here in the early 70's and settled on
the bay front north of the river. He had a bunch of horses, also hogs that
ran wild through the woods until he died and they were rounded up and sold.
A family named Fogg lived at Snake Creek for a while and returned to their
native state. There were others that lived all over the bay shore. These
were Jake Enfinger, who was found dead on the beach near Lake Worth,
supposed to have been bitten by a rattle snake. Another was William Albury,
Joe Ginkens (Jenkins), the sniper, and Tom Thorp. They all drifted away
after a while. T. W. Falkner made comty on a hand mill and was County
Judge of Dade County. He died here. A. F. Quimby stayed here and at
Lake Worth. He was County Clerk for a long time and died at Lake Worth.
At Little Hunting grounds, now Coconut Grove, lived the Frow families,
John and Joe; the Pents, John, Ed and dad. John, the only one who had a
family, and Joe Frow, sons of their families, are still living in the Grove.
Samuel Rhodes was another of the early settlers at the Grove. He had a
son who died when 10 or 12 years old. He was a widower. Charles Peacock
came to Miami in '75, lived at first in the Barnes place on the south side of
the river, later moving across to Ft. Dallas. He also had a compty mill a
ways up the river where he made his living until he moved to Little Hunting
grounds and built the first hotel on Biscayne Bay. As there were no board-
ers he still made compty for a living for several years. At that time there
were no tourists coming to Miami. The real beginning of the first winter
visitors coming to Biscayne Bay was the winter of 1881 when Ralph M.
Munroe came to try and save the life of his wife and her sister. They lived
in tents on the Ft. Dallas grounds. Mrs. Munroe died. The sister, a Miss


Huett, died on the way back to New York, in fact, going up New York har-
bor. Mr. Munroe had brought a boat with him, and he and his brother-in-
law did a good deal of fishing. The following winter he came back again
and made his headquarters at Ft. Dallas, returning to Staten Island, New
York, in the spring. And during this summer is when Peacock moved to
Little Hunting grounds and built his hotel calling it the Peacock Inn. That
fall when Munroe came he made his stay at Little Hunting grounds, living
on his yacht as each year he had a new one. After the first winter they were
large enough to live on. This third winter he bought land from Joe Frow
and built a two story boat house on the shore using the lower floor for a
workshop and the upper for living quarters. Each year he brought friends
with him and interested others. A Mr. De Headville bought a lot adjoining
Munroe; a Mr. Walter Brown next to De Headville, and Kirk Munroe next
to Brown. In the meantime a Post Office was established and the name
changed to Coconut Grove, Mr. Peacock being Post Master. Through Mun-
roe's friends as a starter, winter visitors began coming to Peacock Inn, most
of them staying all winter. Others came in yachts and made Coconut Grove
their headquarters. Also, in the meantime, there were several families moved
there from Key West. Transportation at this time, in fact as it always had
been, was very uncertain and quite often people found themselves short of
a can of something and they would go to Mr. Peacock, who usually had a
fair supply on hand for his own use, and get what they needed. Knowing
that the neighbors were coming to him for things they needed he put in a
larger supply. Pretty soon the little room that he used for the Post Office
got too small and he built a regular store on the shore. By this time Little
River began to grow and a store and Post Office was opened there and the
name changed to Lemon City. Also at this time transportation was much
improved between Miami and Key West by L. W. Pierce who had moved to
Lemon City from Key West. He put on a large schooner that made regular
trips on time. But before Pierce put his schooner on the run, a Mr. Har-
rington, living at Lemon City, put a little steamer on the Miami-Key West
run but she did not last long for some reason nor did Harrington stay
very long.
In 1892 or '93 a schooner began running freight from Jacksonville to
Coconut Grove and Lemon City. Later another was put on the run as the
stores could buy in Jacksonville to better advantage than they could either
in Key West or New York. Brickell was the only store that did not change.
He bought all his goods in New York, having them shopped to Key West by


steamer on the Benner line schooners and using his own boat from Key West.
One of the schooners running from Jacksonville continued running until after
the railroad reached Miami and she was wrecked on her way to Miami.
Now to get back to the settlers on the bay at Big Hunting grounds, John
Addison had settled in the early seventies. Also Charles F. Seibold who
came in a small schooner but disposed of her and made his home with the
Addisons. For years they were the only three people living there. Then in
the early eighties Dr. Cutler made a third and last attempt to make a settle-
ment on the Perrine grant. I think there were twelve or fifteen people all
together who landed there. They had a steam launch to run about the bay
and to the P. 0. at Miami as there was no other on the bay at that time. But
they did not last long. While they were there they made compty starch,
having brought a steam mill with them for the purpose. In fact it was the
only way anyone could make a living in those days. But they all left, the
only one sticking was Harry Fozzard. But while they were there they got
a Post Office and changed the name to Cutler. Fozzard married a Key West
girl and stayed there until the railroad reached Miami when he moved there.
The Post Office was discontinued and there was no one left at Cutler but
the Addisons. Charles F. Seibold had bought property at Snapper Creek and
moved there. In 1884 James L. Nugent came to Miami and located at first
at Snapper Creek. He bought land from one end of the bay to the other.
That is, he owned land at Snake Creek, the head of Biscayne Bay, at Snapper
Creek and south of Cutler. One never knew where to find him. About this
time two men came to Miami. One man was Eley and the other Burkhardt.
Burkhardt took up a homestead south of Coconut Grove and Eley home-
steaded later at what is now Miami Shores. Eley died on his property.
Burkhardt, after proving up on his homestead, was mail carrier between
Lake Worth and Miami. When the railroad reached Lake Worth he worked
there until it started to Miami and worked until the hotel was completed and
so far as I know left the state. He never was well liked anywhere he went.
In 1884 F. S. Moore came to Miami during the winter from Boston, Massa-
chusetts for his health, boarding at Brickell's. After his second winter he
made his home in Miami and entered the real estate business. At this time
Dennis O'Neal came to Miami in a schooner. There was another man with
him. They stayed until spring and returned north. While here 0' Neil met
Mr. Morse and they arranged to meet in New York as Morse had decided to
buy a small yacht and sail it to Miami. This time O'Neil stayed, taking up a
homestead on the shore of Miami River. He was a County Commissioner


for a while. Later he was keeper of the House of Refuge at New River and
lived there until he went north for the first time since coming to Florida and
disappeared completely. He was never heard from. About 1888 or '89
W. C. Valentine came to Miami, staying at Brickell's for a while before lo-
cating on New River about where Ft. Lauderdale now is. He was a civil
engineer and did much of the surveying in and around Miami. He was
drowned in New River. About this time Henry T. Prest came as County
Clerk. He was from Lake Worth. He took up a Homestead on the south
fork of the Miami River. In 1883 E. T. Field, Osborn and Lum came to
Miami. They were going to plant a coconut grove on the beach between
Narrow Cut and Indian Creek. With them was Richard Carney and
another young man. I do not remember his name, and Mr. Lum's son
Charles. They had a small shack built at Bremon's Landing to live in.
They had a load of coconuts come on a schooner and were planted and most
of them would have become trees but for the rabbits who are very fond of
coconut buds. However a few survived and are now part of those growing
on Miami Beach. Field or Osborn did not live on the beach after the coco-
nuts were planted. Charley Lum stayed for several years. He went north
and got married and brought his bride back, built a home on the beach
where they stayed for some time trying to make a living raising tomatoes
but could not do much, the land not being suitable. So he moved to a piece
of property his father owned adjoining the Wagner land, or, that is, he
moved in a house belonging to A. C. Richards but on the Wagner property.
But we could see at once that he would never succeed in getting a mill built
to make starch. While willing to work he was a farmer and nothing else.
So I proposed to my grandfather Wagner that we offer to take him in with
us on shares, which he accepted. He stayed a summer and winter and went
back to New Jersey where he was from, mainly because his wife was home-
sick and they never came back again except for a winter visit some years
later. Dick Carney who came with Field, Osborn, and the Lums, stayed with
Charley Lum on the beach for a while then went with R. M. Munroe at Coco-
nut Grove, played around with Munroe for some time then drifted over to
Peacock's and helped Alfred Peacock in the store, at no time doing any hard
work. At that time he was made school trustee, a position he held for years.
Later he was captain of a yacht for a number of years. When he died the
write-up in the papers said that he was at one time Sheriff of the County, but
he never was; nor did he change the babies of the ladies that came to the


dances that we used to have in those days for the very good reason that they
did not bring the babies to the dances.
The same thing is true in the write-up for R. M. Munroe. It claimed
that Munroe came here as an agent for the Merritt & Chapman Derrick and
Wrecking Co., of Stapelton, L. I. As I stated before, he came here solely
for his wife's health.
There always had been a rivalry between Lake Worth and Miami as to
which was going to be the leading community, Lake Worth claiming it would
be the place for one reason or another, Miami claiming it would be because
of the deep water entrance to the bay and the few miles nearer South
America. Anyway Lake Worth claimed they ought to have the county seat
and managed to have an election and won the deciding vote and the County
seat was moved to Juno at the north end of Lake Worth. Three men carried
the books on their backs from Baker's Haulover to the south end of the
Lake. This, of course, was before Lemon City was started, as the home-
steaders came in later. When the homesteaders came in it changed the looks
of things over night. There were some homesteaders here before the crowd
came. They were A. C. Richards, Burkhardt, Trop and Son and son-in-law,
John Swanson. These homesteads were all adjoining. Ed and Erving Potter
and a Mr. Pratt had homesteads in what we called the Devil's Den. These
were all ahead of the rush about two years. In the rush was Will Hardee,
John Henton, John Rogers, Kingley, Rice, Dr. Jackson, Sam Kelly, Scales,
McAllister, Charley Perry, Charley Cristin and MacDonald. They all came
on the same boat. Later there were others that came. Rev. Blackburn was
one. Tom Hardee was another. Rev. Mereck (Merrick?) was another and
White, who put in the first grove. Most of the others raised tomatoes. Some
did nothing. One or two of them did carpenter work as there was a little
carpentering going on at that time. About this time Coconut Grove had in-
creased in population a little. The Simons, Dr. and Captain, the first real
doctor on the bay. They settled on the Ewan place. Robert Thompson was
one of Coconut Grove's oldest settlers having moved there when keeper of
the light house. Others were George Roberts, William Albury, Nubold,
Kemp and James Carey. Most of these families came from Key West. The
Shones came to the Grove in the early nineties and opened a general store.
From then on to the arrival of the railroad there was little change in Coconut
Grove. At Miami there was nothing except Mrs. Tuttle taking over the Bis-
cayne Bay Co. property. Lemon City had grown some, mainly by Key
Westers moving there. Some of the old settlers I knew very well. There


were John Saunders, William Pent, William Smith and Gery Neals. A family
named Connely came to Lemon City and built a hotel a couple of years be-
fore the railroad reached Miami but gave it up when Miami started and
moved there. I have already mentioned the County seat being moved from
Miami to Lake Worth and of the rivalry between the two places. As a mat-
ter of fact this rivalry extended all the way from Jacksonville. When
Flagler built his road from Jacksonville to St. Augustine, St. Augustine said
that was the end but soon found that they were wrong. And it was the same
story all the way down the coast until the road reached Lake Worth, now
called Palm Beach. When the hotel was finished and the railroad, Palm
Beach was sure Flagler would go no farther with his road. But the Miamians,
and especially Mrs. Tuttle, had other ideas and the road started for Miami.
Then Palm Beach decided they would have the largest town again. Disap-
pointment came as Miami jumped past Palm Beach over night, and to rub
it in, got the County seat back almost at once. Miami had several set-backs
but it slowly grew until the boom when it ran away with itself. I have heard
that there was talk of changing the name of Miami, but I do not think it
was very seriously thought of as I was at all the meetings to arrange for the
incorporation of the city and don't remember ever hearing it mentioned.
There are very few of the people living today that voted at the election to
incorporate the City of Miami. From then on the city history is better
known by others.
All the names I have mentioned in this article I was personally acquainted
with except one.
My people came here. My grandfather, Wm. Wagner, in 1855, my
grandmother, mother and uncle a few months later, expecting to return to
Charleston, S. C., where they came from, but they tarried too long and were
caught here by the war between the North and South. After the end of the
war they decided they might just as well stay. My father came to Miami in
1870, left again soon after I was born, headed for South America, and was
never heard from again after leaving Key West. A. C. Richard and two
other men, Wall and Snider by name, came in 1875 from South America
where they had gone from New York on a promise of work that did not come
true. They were broke so had to walk from where they landed to another
port where an American Consul was stationed who got them passage on a
U. S. Man of War to Key West. At Key West they were told they could go
north by taking passage on the boat running to Miami. At Miami, of course,
they found out that they could not go farther north unless they walked or


went back to Key West and took a steamer. Richard said darned if he was
going back to go ahead, and stayed in Miami. The other two stayed and
made comty until they made enough money to pay their way out. Richard
met and married my mother and spent the rest of his life in Miami. He was
the first Tax Collector and Assessor in Dade County and Census Taker and
at one time U. S. Marshal. The first church built on Biscayne Bay was built
on my grandfather's place in 1876, a Catholic Church. This church was
built for the purpose of converting the Indians but of course never did. The
only Catholics on the Bay were the Wagner family and John Adams, a
single man living up the river. The Bishop of Florida came to Miami and
stayed at grandfather's and made the arrangements to have the church built
but never came back again. The Priest stationed at Key West made a visit
once a year for a while; Father Hugan, then Father Focard, and later Father
Spandonare. After that there was no Priest who came to Miami for years,
until about two years before the railroad reached here Father Wedman made
two visits here. On his second visit he continued around to the west coast
on Mr. De Headville's yacht. I was along. Father Fontan was the next one
to visit us. He also continued around to the west coast, De Headville and
myself taking him. Fontan was then stationed in Miami and built the second
Catholic Church in Miami. I myself was born in what used to be called
Highland Park in the City of Miami in 1871 and I am at the present time
the oldest person born in the City of Miami and Dade County.
Yours for continued prosperity of Miami.

William Selby Harney: Indian Fighter
We are going to travel-in our imaginations-a South Florida route with
a vivid personality. We are going back-in our imaginations-over a bloody
trail. We are going on a dramatic military assignment.
From Cape Florida on Key Biscayne, we start on the morning of De-
cember 4, 1840. We cross the sparkling waters of Biscayne Bay to within a
stone's throw of this McAllister Hotel where we are meeting.
We are going up the Miami River in the days when there was no City
of Miami. All our imaginations have to do is remove all the hotels from
the north bank of the Miami River just above the Brickell Avenue bridge-
then in the clearing rebuild a little military post that stood there more than
a hundred years ago.
At this tiny cluster of stone buildings called Ft. Dallas, our expedition
pauses for farewells. We are going on up to the headwaters of the Miami
River-and beyond-where no white man has ever been before.
The first rays of the sun shed a ruddy light on a party of 90 picked U.S.
soldiers. They are in long dugout canoes.
The sunrise shines with particular emphasis on the fiery-red hair of a
tall officer. It is as if the gleaming wand of destiny has reached down from
the Florida skies this morning to put a special blessing on his perilous
He commands the flotilla to shove off. But before we join him on his
quest for a certain villainous redskin, let us consider who this officer is. The
tall leader whose red hair shines so brightly at the head of the canoe expe-
dition is Lt. Col. William Selby Harney-rugged, clean-cut, the man for this
special job. He is wise in the ways of the Indians, with wisdom obtained
first hand.
Harney had first appeared in Florida years before as a lieutenant on the
staff of General Andrew Jackson. Jackson made him commander of the col-
orful transfer of the Territory from Old Spain to the United States in 1821.
Harney came from Old Hickory's part of the country. He was born in Hays-
borough, Davidson County, Tenn., August 22, 1800. The Harneys were well
acquainted with Old Hickory of the Hermitage.
Read at the annual meeting of the Florida Historical Society in Miami, April 9, 1949.


Young Harney was instructed at home, then in the common schools, then
at Prof. Craighead's academy at Haysborough. He was the eighth of eight
children born to Margaret Hudson Harney and Major Thomas Harney, who
had been an officer in the American Revolution.
While young Harney was visiting an older brother, Dr. Benjamin F.
Harney, an Army surgeon, at Baton Rouge, Louisiana, he attracted the at-
tention of high Army officers. As a result, at the age of 18, he was handed
a lieutenant's commission signed by President James Monroe.
After his Florida service with Jackson, the young lieutenant trekked to
Council Bluffs with troops sent to impress the Indians during peace negotia-
tions. Here he received his captaincy. Then he served at rugged frontier
posts against the Indians in the Northwest Territory. At Ft. Winnebago, Wis-
consin, Harney formed a warm personal friendship with a young second
lieutenant whose name was Jefferson Davis.
It was a friendship for life. Fifty years later Davis described Harney
as "physically the finest specimen of man I ever saw. Tall, straight, mus-
cular, broad-chested, and gaunt-waisted, he was one of the class which
Trelawney describes as 'nature's noblemen' . ..
"Had he lived in the time of Homer he would have robbed Achilles of
his sobriquet of the swift-footed, for he could run faster than a white man,
farther than an Indian . .
"Capt. Harney was also a bold horseman, fond of the chase, a good boat-
man, and skillful in the use of the spear as a fisherman. Neither drinking
nor gaming, he was clear of those rocks and shoals of life on a frontier gar-
rison. . By long service on the Indian frontier, together with practical
sense which tests all theory by actual observation, he had acquired that
knowledge of Indian character which was often conspicuously exhibited in
his military career."
Later, during the Black Hawk war, Harney was again in action against
the Indians and he formed another important comradeship with a young
captain of the militia. In off-duty hours they spent practically all their
leisure together. Harney was a good story teller. But he liked best to listen
to the droll jokes so skillfully told by his tall side-kick, Abraham Lincoln.
Although both were large men, they contrasted. Harney's carriage was
marked by the lithe, easy grace acquired by hard frontier service. Lincoln,
the country lawyer on temporary military duty, was strong, but awkward,
and his face held the smiling expression of the jolly joker he then was. Be-
cause the two young captains were so constantly seen together, the soldiers


nicknamed them "the two ponies." Warmly and intimately their friendship
lasted until Lincoln's death.
Harney could not only out-run the fastest Indian, but he had beaten
some of them in hand-to-hand combat. More important he had studied their
ways at length-and carefully. Indians then were the important foe of the
country, and a man might advance his career best by knowing them well.
At the end of the Black Hawk war, Harney went on leave to Washington
to call on President Jackson. Jackson appointed him a paymaster in the
Army with the rank of major. The job was not to Harney's taste. Soon a
new regiment called the Second Dragoons was formed under command of
Col. David E. Twiggs. Wharton Rector of Arkansas was appointed its lieu-
tenant colonel. Harney was anxious for frontier action with the dragoons.
Rector would rather be a paymaster. So they went to see President Jackson
at the Hermitage. He gratified their request for a swap.
As a lieutenant colonel, Harney was soon on the scene when Indian
troubles broke out again in Florida. He saw his first action in the Second
Seminole war at Ft. Mellon on Lake Monroe, near the present City of San-
ford. His explorations of the area added another lake to the map-now
called Lake Harney.
The dismal Second Seminole war dragged on and on. Then agreements
with the Indians seemed to end it. Osceola and others broke them, and the
war flamed up anew.
When the Indians had been repulsed and driven down to the Everglades,
Harney recommended that they be offered peace and a reservation in Florida
to live on. This time it was the white government that refused to ratify the
Finally, Major-General Alexander Macomb, commander of the whole
United States Army, came in person to the seat of the war. Immediately he
sent for Harney, who was at Cape Florida. Harney repeated his proposal
for a reservation. General Macomb agreed.
Harney rounded up the Indian chiefs. They were filled with distrust for
the white man's government. They wouldn't accept until Harney had given
his personal word. He pledged that if the treaty were not observed by the
government he would give them his ammunition and guns and three days
start-and they could resume hostilities if they chose. On his personal
promise, then, at Ft. King, the Indians signed. They agreed to live on a
reservation lying along the lower West Coast of Florida. The government
agreed to keep the white settlers out. There was peace at last.


But not for long. The Secretary of War, Joel R.. Poinsett, let it be known
in a letter that despite the treaty's permanent provision-and Harney's word
-the War Department considered it only a temporary situation.
The Indians surmised immediately that once they were rounded up on
the reservation, they would be transported out of Florida to the West. Un-
fortunately, the Indians heard of Poinsett's bad faith before the news reached
Harney. He was encamped on the Caloosahatchie River. The angry sav-
ages descended in the night. Only seven men and the athletic, swift-footed
Harney escaped. And again the war flared. Harney was filled with righteous
anger-both at the savages and at the Secretary of War.
In their vicious rampages, the Indians massacred the village of Indian
Key, down on the Florida Keys. It was the seat of Dade County then. They
wiped it out and murdered, among others, the famous Dr. Henry Perrine.
Chief of the marauders was Chekika. He was leader of the last of the
Caloosa Indians, or Spanish Indians, who had occupied Southern Florida
long before the remnants of the Seminoles had come down. The Caloosas
and many of the Seminoles were hiding now in the unexplored fastnesses of
the Everglades. No white man had ever been beyond the rim of the coast.
So now, as we join Harney and his men on this fine December morning,
we are going to a place as mysterious and unknown to civilized life as the
darkest interior of Africa or the valleys of the moon.
At Harney's command, we shove off from Ft. Dallas. Up the dark
waters of the Miami River we paddle between thick walls of green jungle.
Gaudy parroquets scream among the vines draping primeval giant trees.
Ivory-billed woodpeckers chop at the ancient dead stubs. Great alligators
and crocodiles lumber down the sunny banks and splash out of sight. The
canoes surge silently against the current. The soldiers have been especially
trained in stealthy paddling.
At the head of the river, we branch into a narrow channel. Now the
saw-grass rises higher than our heads. When the canoes come to shallows,
the men jump out-waist-deep in the ooze-and push. No one shoves any
harder than the officers or the huge Harney.
At sunset we reach the edge of the Everglades itself. Beyond lies the
unmapped and the unknown. We set up a simple camp. We light no fires.
The skies are loud with the cries of thousands of herons, ibis, and agrets
swarming to roost. The terrifying bellows of bull alligators add to the din
as night falls. Millions of frogs croak and rasp. Then lonely owls hoot


We are glad when morning comes. The soldiers and officers are putting
on Indian shirts and staining their faces to look like Indians.
For several days, the canoes are paddled and shoved through the saw-
grass. Then, one morning, we approach a jungle-covered island rising above
the marsh. We hear the sound of wood-chopping and smell the cooking
fires of a Caloosa village within the trees. The Indians will be taken by
The soldiers disappear through the screen of the jungle. A fusillade of
shots barks out. A huge Indian breaks through the trees and out into the
open. He lunges through the saw-grass. A soldier ploughs floundering
after him. The soldier levels his rifle and shoots him down. The soldier
takes his scalp-the scalp of Chekika. It has been promised to high military
authorities in St. Augustine.
Several warriors are taken alive-also a number of squaws and children.
At sunset the captives are lined up at Harney's orders.. Then two of the
warriors-and Chekika's dead body-are hanged high from a tree.
The gruesome event is significant. Should the surviving prisoners escape
before our expedition returns to Ft. Dallas, the witnesses will have a tale to
tell other Indians.
No longer does Harney treat warriors like men of honor. He hangs them
now-like criminals. They had broken their word with him.
So we go on, day after day ,with Harney across the Everglades, shooting
and hanging warriors, capturing squaws and children as prisoners. Finally
we descend a river into the Gulf of Mexico. Harney thinks it is the Shark.
But in reality it is a different one that later bears his name.
We start back to the East Coast-around Cape Sable and down to Indian
Key, then up to Cape Florida, where Harney pens his official reports. Under
that Cape Florida dateline, he modestly recounts one of South Florida's most
important expeditions.
We go up to St. Augustine with Harney, where his intrepid triumph is
hailed for its full meaning. He has broken the back of Indian resistance.
The savages have been taught they are no longer safe from Harney-
even in their remotest hiding places. They now know that they no longer
exclusively possess that one superior tactic-the element of surprise. Harney
has taught them that the white soldier now surpasses them in that, too. Soon
the clans and bands come in to give themselves up and be transported west
to Arkansas. Only a few stragglers are left in the Everglades. The war
is over.


Meanwhile, Harney freely answers all questions about his expedition.
Freely, too, he tells that if he had the Secretary of War, Mr. Poinsett, in the
Everglades, he would have hanged him also. How can an officer of the
Army get away with such a statement? It is because the Secretary of War's
bad faith is known to have sacrificed brave soldiers and innocent pioneer
men and women on the frontier. The Secretary of War knows this, himself,
and there is nothing he can say.
Ironically, it has been Harney's bitter duty-with rifle and rope-to re-
store the peace he had once accomplished by the Indian's trust in his per-
sonal word. Harney asks for an investigation in the Secretary of War's un-
justified interpretation of the treaty. But his efforts are blocked by higher
military officers. After all, even though he is obviously a man seeking
justice, he is only a lieutenant colonel.
But the crowning honor of having ended the seven years of war is
Harney's. Nevertheless, it is only the starting point of a great career.
Next we see him in the Mexican war. We see him assaulting the heights
of Cerro Gordo, turning the battle into a great victory. He joins the final
triumphant ceremonies in Mexico City. He is quartered in a palace of a
prince of the Montezumas. He is rewarded with the rank of brevet briga-
dier general.
Soon, in recognition of his achievements, he is granted two years leave.
He scarcely arrives in Paris with his family, when he is requested to come
back. When he asks President Pierce in Washington why he has not been
allowed to enjoy his leave and has been ordered to return, the President re-
plies: "General Harney, you have done so much, that I would not order you,
but I do wish that you would assume the command and whip the Indians
for us."
This time it is the hard-riding plains Indians, the Sioux. And he whips
them with remarkable dispatch. Then he is assigned to Kansas to quell the
bitter border troubles there, and he is equally successful.
In the Spring of 1858, the Mormons of Utah strain the patience of the
U. S. Government to the breaking point by expelling the judges of the Fed-
eral courts, driving out the governors sent from Washington, and inciting the
Indians to hostilities.
General Harney is ordered to deal with them. He makes a thorough
plan. He determines to march to Salt Lake City, capture Brigham Young
and the twelve apostles, execute them, and winter in the Temple of the Latter


Day Saints. It's not a question of religion. To Harney it is just that the
authority of the United States has been defied.
Fortunately for the Mormons, he is promoted to full brigadier-general
and assigned, instead, to untangle Indian troubles in Washington and Oregon.
Up and down the western lands it is Harney who gets tough assignments.
Then he is made commander of the Army Department of the West with head-
quarters in St. Louis, Mo. This is 1861. The Civil War is brewing. Missouri
is a crackling hot spot.
A few days after the outbreak of the Civil War, Harney is called to
Washington for conference. On the way, his train is stopped at Harpers
Ferry. The 61-year-old general is greatly annoyed by the delay. His hair
is snow-white now.
A young confederate lieutenant strides officiously into the car and says:
"General, you are my prisoner."
"God damn your soul, get out of here," exclaims Harney to the lieu-
tenant. With that he throws the young officer to the floor. They are grap-
pling between the seats, with the general on top, when senior Confederate
officers arrive and separate them.
But they take Harney prisoner of war-to Richmond. As a prisoner, he
is accorded most unusual treatment. High officers of the Confederate army
and the government, many of them old friends, meet him. They apologize
and express regret for his arrest. They plead with him to join the Confed-
eracy. Governor Letcher of Virginia and Mrs. Letcher entreat him to join
their cause. General Robert E. Lee and General Joseph E. Johnston talk
with him.
He tells them, in effect, what he later wrote:
"Forty-two years I have been in the military service of the United States,
and have followed during all that time, but one flag-the flag of the Union.
I have seen it protecting our frontier and guarding our coast from Maine to
Florida. I have witnessed it in the smoke of battle stained with the blood
of gallant men leading it on to victory, planted upon the strongholds and
waving over the capital of a foreign foe.
"My eyes have beheld that flag affording protection to our States and
Territories on the Pacific, and commanding reverence and respect from hos-
tile fleets and squadrons and from foreign governments, never exhibited to
any other banner on the globe.
"Twenty stars, each representing a State, having been added to that ban-
ner during my services, and under its folds I have advanced from the rank
of lieutenant to that which I now hold.


"The government whose honors have been bestowed upon me, I shall
serve the remainder of my days."
In Richmond, he is released. Then all the way back to Washington, at
every railroad station, he is the hero of a strange ovation. He is riding
through Confederate territory. He is obviously on his way back to join
the Union.
But the people recognize only Harney, the great conqueror of the savage
frontier. They swarm around his train, forgetting questions of Confederacy
or Union. They won't let the train go on until he has shown himself in re-
sponse to their demonstration.
Modestly he puts his head out the window. Cheer after cheer rises from
the crowds as they express their admiration for Harney, the great Indian
fighter, the great advancer of the American frontier, who first tasted great-
ness in an expedition up the Miami River.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS: I express warm thanks to George J. Deedmeyer of Coco-
nut Grove, Fla., for generous access to his exceptional collection of Floridiana, notably,
Life of General Harney, by L. U, Reavis, and to David 0. True, Corresponding Secretary
of the Historical Association of Southern Florida, for use of the letter, "L. W. Mansfield
of St. Augustine to H. White of Cohoes, N. Y., March 22, 1841."



CHARLES M. BROOKFIELD, LCDR., USCGR., has been a South Floridian
for twenty-six years. He has been much interested in the maritime and
natural history of the region. He is Florida representative of the National
Audubon Society. He is co-author with Oliver Griswold of They All Called
It Tropical, now in its second printing. He is a charter member of the His-
torical Association of Southern Florida, and a member of its Board of
ALONZO CHURCH was born at Madison, Florida, in 1870. He visited
Miami in 1892 as member of the Ingraham Everglades Expedition described
in "A Dash Through the Everglades". He visited Miami again in 1939. His
comments on the second visit, together with other biographical data, appear in
the introduction prepared by Watt P. Marchman of the Hayes Memorial
Foundation, Fremont, Ohio.
J. K. DORN has been a Miami resident since 1895. He has been active
in many phases of the community's growth. He recalls with great satisfac-
tion his part in the Miami Coliseum Corporation which brought the Chicago
Civic Opera Company to Miami for a week of Grand Opera in 1926. He
was three years a director of the Miami Chamber of Commerce, four years
president of the Miami Pioneers, and two years president of the Historical
Association of Southern Florida of which he is now a director.
OLIVER GRISWOLD is co-author with Charles M. Brookfield of They All
Called It Tropical, an account of the Everglades National Park region. He
has done considerable writing on historical and conservation topics, some
of which have appeared in Miami newspapers. He is program coordinator
for the University of Miami Radio and Television Department.
HENRY J. WAGNER was born in Miami in 1871. His grandfather had
come to the region in 1855. A part of this paper was read at a program
meeting of the Historical Association of Southern Florida in December,
1944, and appeared in the Miami Herald January 2, 1945. The original
manuscript in longhand is owned by his sister, Mrs. Maude Black, who re-
sides at the "Original Sausage Tree" place on Ingraham Highway. A copy
is in the files of the Historical Association of Southern Florida. It is printed
here exactly as he wrote it except for the correction of some of the spelling.




On hand September 1, 1948 ----------------------------$ 695.09
Dues collected ------------------$1,216.50
University of Miami......---------------200.00
Miscellaneous Income -------- 188.80
Building Fund --------------- 15.00 1,620.30

Printing and Mailing Tequesta ------ 910.75
Other printing and stationery ------ 196.45
Postage ------------------------- 188.01
Miscellaneous expenses ------------- 233.45 $1,528.66

Onhand August 31, 1949 ----------- 786.73

$2,315.39 $2,315.39

We have collected 1949 dues from 419 members, of whom 317 are annual
members at $2, and 102 sustaining members at $5.

EDWIN G. BISHOP, Treasurer.




Allen, Hervey, Miami
Brickell, Mrs. Charles, Miami
Caldwell, Thomas P., Coral Gables
Carson, James M., Miami
Carson, Mrs. Ruby Leach, Coral Gables
Corley, Miss Pauline, Miami
Crowninshield, Mrs. Francis B.,
Boca Grande
Culbertson, Mrs. Thomas Means, Miami
Douglas, Mrs. Marjory Stoneman,
Coconut Grove
Downer, Miss Lisa de F., Miami
Downer, Miss Sophie W., Miami

Egger, Mrs. Henry J., Live Oak
Freeland, Mrs. William L., Coral Gables
Hudson, Senator F. M., Miami
Leffler, Miss Cornelia, Miami
Matheson, Hugh M., Miami
McKay, John G., Miami
Miami Public Library, Lemon City Branch
Montgomery, Col. Robert H., Miami
Porter, William R., Key West
Rasmussen, Dr. Edwin L., Miami
Stiles, Wade, Miami
Wilson, D. Earl, Miami
Wilson, Gaines R., Miami


Adams, Adam G., Coral Gables
Ashe, B. F., Coconut Grove
Ayer, Mrs. Malcolm Hall, Miami
Baber, Adin, Kansas, Ill.
Baker, Charles H., Jr., Miami
Baxter, John M., Miami
Beal, K. Malcolm, Coconut Grove
Beaton, Margaret M., Coral Gables
Beck, Mrs. Alfred John, Ft. Lauderdale
Bickel, Karl A., Sarasota
Bishop, Edwin G., Miami
Black, Mrs. Charles E., Miami
Black, Miss Nellie Mae, Miami
Bowen, Crate D., Miami
Bowers, Bland, Coral Gables
Boyd, Dr. Mark F., Tallahassee
Brookfield, Charles M., Miami
Brown, William Mark, Miami
Brown, Mrs. James D., Miami
Brownell, Thomas C., Coral Gables
Burton, Mrs. Robert A., Jr., Miami
Bush, Mrs. Franklin Coleman, Miami
Caldwell, Mrs. Thomas P., Coral Gables
Campbell, Park H., Miami
Campbell, Mrs. Park H., Miami
Catlow, Mrs. Wm. R., Bloomfifield, N. J.
Clarke, Mary Helen, Coral Gables
Combs, Mrs. Walter H., Sr., Miami
Combs, Walter H., Jr., Miami
Copeland, D. Graham, New Orleans, La.
Coral Gables Public Library
Crow, Lon Worth, Miami
Crow, Mrs. Lon Worth, Miami

Cushman, The School, Miami
Dee, William V., Miami
Deedmeyer, George J., Miami
Dismukes, William P., Coral Gables
Dodd, Miss Dorothy, Tallahassee
Dorothy, Mrs. Caroline, Miami
Earman, Joe S., Vero Beach
Elder, Dr. S. F., Miami
Elder, Mrs. Leola Adams, Miami
Estill, George C., Miami
Estill, Mrs. George C., Miami
Fairchild, Mrs. David, Miami
Foster, Athene S., Miami
Freeland, Win. L., Coral Gables
Frierson, William T., Miami
Fritz, Miss Florence, Ft. Myers
Fuzzard, Miss Jessie M., Miami
Gardner, R. C., Miami
Gardner, Mrs. R. C., Miami
Geiger, Mrs. August, Miami Beach
Gibson, Mrs. Walter C., Miami
Gifford, Mrs. John C., Miami
Goodwin, Win. B., Hartford, Conn.
Haggard, Mrs. W. A., Miami
Hampton, Mrs. John, Baltimore, Md.
Hanks, Bryan, Montclair, N. J.
Hanna, A. J., Winter Park
Harris, Miss Julia Fillmore, Miami
Havee, Justin P., Miami
Herin, William A., Miami
Holland, Judge John W., Miami
Holland, Hon. Spessard L, Bartow
Hollywood (Fla.) Public Library


Hudson. Mrs. F. M., Miami
Hume, Mrs. Edward C., Miami
Humes, Mrs. Ralph H., Miami
Jones, L. A., Miami
Jones, Mrs. L, A., Miami
Jones, Mrs. Macklin, Coral Gables
Kaplan, Dr. Jacob H., Miami Beach
Keyes, Kenneth S., Miami
Kilvert, Maxwell A., Winter Park
Krome, Mrs. William J., Homestead
Lawrence, Mrs. W. A., Miami
Lynch, Sylvester J., Homestead
MacDonald, Duncan, Miami
MacDonald, Mrs. Duncan, Miami
Marchman, Watt P., Fremont, Ohio
Mason, Walter Scott, Coral Gables
Matteson, Miss Eleanor E., Miami
Miami Public Library
Miami Public Library,
Flagler Memorial Branch
Moore, Mrs. T. V., Miami
Morales, Win. H., Sr., Miami
Morris, Zula, Miami
Muller, Leonard R., Miami
Munroe, Wirth M., Miami
Newell, Miss Natalie, Miami
Nugent, Patrick B., Fort Meade
Nugent, Mrs. Patrick B., Fort Meade
Pace, Mrs. Johnson H., Miami

Pancoast, J. Arthur, Miami Beach
Parsons, Mrs. Frances G., Miami
Pennington, Rev. Edgar L., Mobile, Ala.
Peters, Mrs. Thelma, Miami
Pitt, Gerard, Miami
Railey, F. G. Miami
Railey, Mrs. F. G., Miami
Ritter, Judge Halstead L., Miami
Rosner, George W., Coral Gables
Ruskin, Mrs. S. H., Decatur, Ga.
Sartor, Mrs. Ralph, Youngstown, Ohio
Shaw, Miss Martha Luelle, Miami
Singleton, Stephen C., Miami
Spencer, George S., Miami
Spinks, Mrs. Elizabeth J., Miami
Stranahan, Mrs. Frank, Ft. Lauderdale
Strong, Clarence E., Miami
Taylor, Robert R., Miami
Tebeau, C. W., Coral Gables
Ten Eich, Mrs. Mary Nunez, Tampa
True, David 0., Miami
Vance, Mrs. Herbert 0., Coral Gables
Vanderpool, Fred W., Miami Beach
Williams, H. Franklin, Coral Gables
Williams, Mrs. Guy V., Miami
Wilson, Peyton L., Miami
Wirtb, Miss Josephine, Miami
Woore, A. Meredith, Miami


Allen, Hervey, Miami
Anderson, Robert H., Miami
Ashe, Dr. B. F., Miami
Baker, Charles H., Jr., Miami
Bartz, Edward, Miami
Benson, Clifton D., Coral Gables
Bickel, Karl A., Sarasota
Bliss, Alonzo 0., Jr., Miami
Bowen, Crate D., Miami
Brickell, Mrs. Charles, Miami
Brookfield, Chas. M., Miami
-Brossier, G. D., Coral Gables
Brossier, Mrs. G. D., Coral Gables
Brunstetter, Roscoe, Coral Gables
Butts, Mrs. Harold T., Ormond Beacch
Cheetham, Joseph M., Miami
Cobbs, Henry, Miami
Crowninshield, F. B., Boca Grande
Crowninshield, Mrs. B. F., Boca Grande
Cunningham, Mrs. Fae Fowler, Miami
Cushman, The School, Miami
Dee, William V., Miami
Deedmeyer, Joseph G., Miami
Dolan, Francis M., Coral Gables
Dorn, J. K., Miami
Douglas, Mrs. Marjory Stoneman, Miami

Downer, Miss Lisa de F., Miami
Downer, Miss Sophie W., Miami
Drake, Charley G., Union City, Ga.
Elliston, Charles A., Hallandale
Espenlaub, George L., Clewiston
Fee, W. I., Fort Lauderdale
Feibelman, Herbert U., Miami
Fisher, Mrs. Jane, Miami Beach
Fuller, Walter P., St. Petersburg
Gardner, Jack R., Benton Harbor, Mich.
Geiger, Mrs. August, Miami Beach
Gibson, Henry C., Jenkinton, Pa.
Graham, Ernest R., Hialeah
Graw, LaMonte, Orlando
Grismer, Karl H., Miami
Grosvenor, Gilbert H., Washington, D. C.
Hallstead, Fred, Fort Lauderdale
Hanks, Bryan, Fort Worth, Texas
Hard, William, Miami
Hardie, Richard M., Miami
Harris, Miss Julia Fillmore, Miami
Herin, William A., Miami
Hills, Lee, Miami
Holcomb, Lyle, Miami
Hughes, Mrs. Fleda V., Miami
Hume, Mrs. Edward C., Miami


Jackson, Melvin H., Miami Beacch
Johnson, Mrs. Alberta M., St. Augustine
Kent, Arnold H., Miami
Kerr, James Benjamin, Hollywood
Kirtland, Mrs. F. W., Jacksonville
Knight, John S., Miami
Krome, Mrs. William J., Homestead
LaGorce, John 0., Washington, D. C.
Leffler, Miss Cornelia, Miami
Lewis, Miss Carlotta, Coral Gables
Lindsley, A. R., Miami Beach
MacDonald, Duncan, Miami
MacDonald, Mrs. Duncan, Miami
Manley, Miss Marion I., Miami
Mansfield, William N., Miami Beach
Master, Mrs. H., Miami
Matheson, Hugh M., Miami
McCaskill, J. M., Miami
McDonald, Mrs. John Martyn, Miami
McKay, John G., Miami
Meisel, Max, Miami Beach
Mershon, M. L., Miami
Modisette, Col. Welton M., Coral Gables
Montgomery, Col. Robert H., Miami
Munroe, Wirth M., Miami
Oglesby, R. M., Bartow
Pancoast, Russell T., Miami Beach
Pardo, Mrs. Ramiro V., Miami
Parker, 0. B., Homestead
Patten, Nathan van, Palo Alto, Calif.
Pierce, Mrs. Ruby Edna, Palm Beach
Pollard, Marshall S. P., Miami

Porter, William R., Key West
Prevatt, Preston G., Miami
Railey, F. G., Miami
Railey, Mrs. F. G., Miami
Richard, B. R., Jr., Miami
Robinson, F. A., Miami
St. Augustine Historical Society,
Shank, H. W., Coral Gables
Shaw, Miss Martha Luelle, Miami
Shipe, Paul E., Miami
Sisters of St. Joseph, St. Augustine
Smith, McGregor, Miami
Spellman, Rev. Chas. W., St. Augustine
Stiles, Wade, Fort Lauderdale
Tebeau, C. W., Coral Gables
Thompson, John G., Miami
Thord-Gray, General I., Homestead
Tompkins, H. Herbert, Miami
Urmey, William N., Miami
Usina, Leonard A., Miami
Walters, Mae L. M., Miami
Walters, Walter M., Miami
West, William M., Genesee, Ill.
Whitten, George E., Miami
Wilson, D. Earl, Miami
Wirth, Miss Josephine, Coconut Grove
Witmer, Mrs. Lorin J., Coconut Grove
Wolf, Fred, Sr., Hallandale
Wood, Mr. and Mrs. Willis D., Miami
Woore, A. Meredith, Miami
Zabriskie, George A., New York City


Adams, A. H., Miami
Adams, Mrs. A. H., Miami
Adams, Mrs. A. M., Miami
Albertson Memorial Library, Orlando
Alexander, Eleanor P., Homestead
Allardt, Mrs. Frederick, Los Angeles, Calif.
Allen, Robert L., Deland
American Geographic Society, New York
American Museum of Natural History,
New York
Anderson, Mrs. Myra Burr, Miami
Angle, A. J., Tampa
Ansbaugh, Mrs. Katheryn M., Hialeah
Anthony, Roscoe T., Palm Beach
Appel, Mrs. Doris L., Miami
Arthur, Mrs, P. A., Miami
Arthur, Miss Phyllis H., Miami
Baker, Therese C., Stuart
Barbour, Mrs. Marian, Miami
Barker, Virgil, Coconut Grove
Baughman, Miss Leona, Miami
Baum, Earl L., Miami

Beardsley, Jim E., Clewiston
Bell, Jack, Miami
Bennett, Lucius L., Miami
Bills, Jeanne Bellamy, Miami
Bingham, Mrs. Millicent Todd,
Washington, D. C.
Blocker, John C., St. Petersburg
Bloomberg, George W., Miami
Botts, G. W., Jacksonville
Bouvier, John A., Jr., Miami
Bovard, Mrs. Walter, Ormond Beach
Brickell, James B., Miami
Brickell, Mrs, James B., Miami
Briggs, Harold E., Carbondale, Ill.
Brinson, J. Hardie, Miami
Brook, John, Jr., Coral Gables
Brooks, Mrs. Charles I., Miami
Brown, Judge Armistead, Tallahassee
Brown, Edgar, Coconut Grove
Brown University Library, Providence, R. I.
Budd, Garland M., Miami
Budd, Mrs. Garland M., Jr., Miami


Burt, Reynold M., Miami
Bush, R. S., Miami
Byrd, Mrs. J. Wade, Miami
Caffrey, John C., Miami
Campbell, Mrs. Susie C., Miami
Cantrell, J. W. Kissimmee
Cantrell, Mrs. Elizabeth A., Kissimmee
Capron, Louis, West Palm Beach
Carnine, Miss Helen M., Miami
Cash, William T., Tallahassee
Castillo, Miss Angela del, Arlington, Va.
Chaille, Floyd, Miami
Chamberlain, Robert S., Alexandria, Va.
Chaplin, E. F., Coral Gables
Chapman, R. Edward, Miami
Chase, Randall, Sanford
Close, Kenneth, Miami
Coconut Grove Library
Cohen, Isidor, Miami
Cole, R. B., Miami
Collins, Mrs. Eva 0., Bartow
Conly, Leonard H., Key West
Connor, Mrs. June, Tampa
Conover, Paul H., Miami
Cook, John B., Miami
Cooney, Miss Mary, Miami
Cooney, Robert E., Miami
Cooney, Mrs. Robert E., Miami
Corse, Mrs. Carita D., Jacksonville
Coslow, George S., Miami
Craig, J. L., Miami
Cullen, Ralph 0., Coral Gables
Curry, Allison B., Jr., Coral Gables
Curtis, Kent, Grand Rapids, Minn.
Dade County Teachers' Professional
Davis, Mrs. Jefferson, Miami
Davis, Katherine Fite, Miami
Davison, Chester M., Miami
Davison, Mrs. Esther W., Miami
Daytona Park and Library Association,
Daytona Beach
Dorn, H. Lewis, South Miami
Dorn, Harold W., South Miami
Dorn, Mrs. Harold W., South Miami
Dorn, J. K., Jr., Miami
Dovell, J. E., Jr., Gainesville
Downes, Miss Patricia, Coral Gables
DuPree, Thomas O'Hagan, Miami Beach
Earle, Walter F., Ormond Beach
Eason, Mrs. Helga H., Miami
Eckel, Mrs. Frederick L., Ft. Lauderdale
Edwards, Mrs. Howard K., Miami
Eichleay, William A., Miami
Ellis, Irving M., Jr., Miami Beach
Epting, Lulu, Miami
Fagan, Mrs. W. H., Ormond Beach
Fassett, Lawrence W., Miami

Fennell, Thomas A., Jr., Homestead
Ferendino, Andrew J., Miami Beach
Florida Geological Survey, Tallahassee
Florida State Library, Tallahassee
Floyd, Robert L., Miami
Foster, Lawrence M., Tuscaloosa, Ala.
Fox, Leonard B., Camaguey, Cuba
Freeling, J. S., Miami
Freeling, Mrs. J. S., Miami
Freeman, Edison S., Miami
Freeman, Mrs. Ethel Cutler,
Morristown, N. J.
Freude, Charles T., Jr., Hollis, L. I.,
New York
Frohock. Mrs. Jack, Miami
Fultz, H. B., Coral Gables
Gaillard, Margaret, Miami Beach
Gannaway, Mrs. K. C., Miami
Gates, Harley D., Boca Raton
Gaunt, E. C., Miami
Geberer, Murray, Brooklyn, N. Y.
Gellrich, Mrs. Ida W., Key West
Gilbert, Bertha K., North Miami Beach
Gilkey, Margaret J., Miami
Gillett. George, Wauchula
Goggin, John M., Gainesville
Greene, Miss Clarissa, Miami
Gregor, Henry, Miami
Griffin, John, Gainesville
Griffith, Arthur, Miami
Griswold, Oliver, Coral Gables
Grose, Mrs. Esther N., Miami
Hack, Ernest, Miami
Hack, Jacob, Jr., Miami
Hack, William, Miami
Hall, Willis E., Coral Gables
Halstead, Wm. L., Miami
Hamel, Claude C., Amherst, Ohio
Hamilton, Thomas B., Miami
Hanson, Mrs. B. N., Miami
Hanson, Merlin M., Miami
Hanson, Mrs. Merlin M., Miami
Hanson, Mrs. W. Stanley, Ft. Myers
Harkins, William G., Coral Gables
Harllee, J. William, Miami
Harper, Mrs. Raymond, Princeton, N. J.
Harvard College Library, Cambridge, Mass.
Harvey, J. H., Miami Springs
Havee, Mrs. Kathryn, Miami
Henderson, Daniel M., Hampton, N. J.
Hendry, Norman, Miami
Heinlein, Mrs. Mary C., Homestead
Henry, Mrs. Erma P., Miami
Henry, Miss Marcia, Hiram, Ohio
Herin, Thomas Davenport, Miami
Hetherington, Mrs. Alma, Kenansville
Hilsabeck, W. D., Miami
Hollowell, R. D. T., Fort Myers


Hosea, Fred W., Miami
Hosea, Mrs. Fred W., Miami
Houghton, Mrs. A. S., Miami
Hubbell, Willard, Coral Gables
Huntington Library, San Marino, Calif.
Hughes, Joyce M., Miami
Hurwitz, Abe, Miami
Jacksonville Public Library
Jammer, Louis A., Jr., Morrisville, Pa.
Jenkins, Leon R., Miami
Jones, Mrs. Mary Douglas, Coral Gables
Kemp, W. C., Miami
Keyes, Mrs. Kenneth S., Atlanta, Ga.
Kidd, William R., Miami
Kidd, Mrs. William R., Miami
Kiem, Stanley C., Miami
King, C. Harold, Miami
Kinlaw, David E., Gainesville
Kistler, The C. W. Company, Miami
Klingler, Mrs. Isabella 0., Coral Gables
Kniffen, Claude L., Miami
Kofoed, Jack, Miami
Kohl, Mrs. Henry, Palm Beach
Kronenfeld, Mrs. John, Miami
Lackey, Mrs. John D., Miami Beach
Lamme, Vernon, Miami
Lawrence, Mrs. Iva H., Miami
Lee, David C., Jr., Miami
Lewin, H. H., Miami
Lewin, Miss Mary D., Tallahassee
Leyden, Charles S., Coral Gables
Leyden, Mrs. Charles S., Coral Gables
Lindsey, John J., Miami
Lindsley, Will S., Miami
Lipp, Morris N., Miami Beach
Lloyd J. Harlan, Miami
Loftin, Scott M., Jacksonville
Lummus, J. N., Jr., Miami
Lyell, Dr. Robert 0., Miami
Lyell, Mrs. Robert 0., Miami
Lyons, James, Miami
MacArthur, W. E., Miami
MacArthur, Mrs. W. E., Miami
MacMahon, B. H., Coral Gables
Manning, Mrs. William S., Jacksonville
Marsh, Fred Dana, Ormond Beach
Marsh, Mrs. Mabel V. A., Ormond Beach
Martin, Mrs. Inez L., Miami Springs
Martin, Mrs. Mary C., Miami Springs
Martin, S. Walter, Athens, Ga.
Martin, William Henry, Miami Springs
Mason, Mrs. Joe, Miami
Massey, Miss Ethelyn, Miami
Mauldin, Mrs. Mary C., Miami
May, Philip S., Jacksonville
McCall, B. C., Chicago
McCarthy, Don L, Miami Beach
McCaughan, George C., Miami

McGahey, Miss Lillian, Miami
McKay, D. B., Tampa
McKey, Robert M., Miami
McNair, Angus, South Miami
McQuilkin, Amelia, Miami
Mead, Edwin, Miami Beach
Meredith, Mrs. Evelyn T., Miami
Merrick, Mrs. Ethel F., Coral Gables
Merritt, Dr. Webster, Jacksonville
Meyers, Miss Ethel H., Hialeah
Miami Beach Public Library
Miami Daily News
Miami Public Library, Riverside Branch
Milam, Robert R., Jacksonville
Milledge, Judge Stanley, Miami
Miller, R. N., Miami
Montgomery, Earl T., Miami
Morgan, Mrs. George W., Oviedo
Morice, John H., New York City
Mudd, Dr. Richard D., Saginaw, Mich.
Munson, Win. B., Miami
Myers, Gen. John Twiggs, Coconut Grove
Nelson, Winifred Hendricks, Miami Beach
Newberry Library, Chicago, Ill.
Newton, Dawson L., Miami
Nichol, J. C., Miami
Oglesby, W. Dickey, Coral Gables
O'Mears, Vincent K., Hialeah
Orlando Senior High School Library
Osterhoudt, William L., Miami
Otis, Robert R., Atlanta, Ga.
Ott, Mrs. Roy V., Coral Gables
Owre, J. Riis, Coral Gables
Pancoast, Lester C., Miami Beach
Parker, Mrs. G. A., Coral Gables
Parker, Gerald G., Miami
Peabody Museum Library,
Cambridge, Mass.
Peacock, Mrs. Coral, Miami
Pearse, Mrs, Langdon, Winnetka, Ill.
Pemberton, P. G., Miami
Pemberton, Mrs. P. G., Miami
Pennekamp, John D., Miami
Perry, Burroughs F., Miami
Peterson, Mrs. Walter C., Miami
Pizie, Stuart G., Miami
Pond, James B., New York City
Power, Mrs. Frances M., Miami
Prince, J. W., Naples
Quackenbush, 0. F., Gainesville
Railey, Lilburn R., Miami
Redden, Mrs. Beryl, Miami
Redfearn, Mrs. Susan Fort, Coral Gables
Reich, Mrs. Molka, Miami
Reynolds, Hughes, Rome, Ga.
Rheney, W. E., Miami
Robbins, Leon A., Boynton Beach
Robinson, Miss Edna H., New York City


Rogers, Miss Flora, Miami
Rollins College Library, Winter Park
Rollins, Mildred, Miami
Roman, Erl, Miami
Rose, Harvey K., Miami
Rosemond, St. Julien P., Miami
Ross, Malcolm, Miami
Rossman, Bert, Miami
Ryan, Miss Anna A., Miami Beach
Sabini, Miss Miriam, Washington, D. C.
Sandspur Bookshop, Winter Park
Saunders, Dr. Lewis M., Miami
Schaefer, A. H., Miami
Schuberth, Andrew F., Jr., Miami
Schwab, Lawrence, Miami Beach
State University of Iowa Library,
Iowa City, Iowa
Sessa, Frank B., Miami
Shaffer, Edwin H., Miami
Shappee, Nathan D., Miami
Shaw, George N., Miami
Shaw, Henry Overstreet, Miami
Sherritt, Charles L., Miami
Shewmake, Mrs. C. E., Miami
Simmons, J. P., Miami
Singleton, W. L., Miami
Singleton, Mrs. W. L., Miami
Smith, Avery C., Jr., Miami
Smith, Mrs. Rutledge, Florida City
Snodgrass, Miss Dena, Jacksonville
Sokol, Anton, Miami
Spicer, Miss Aldine Rosemary, Miami
Spicer, Mrs. Robert T., Miami
State Historical Society of Wisconsin,
Madison, Wis.
John B. Stetson University, Deland
Stephens, E. E., Miami
Stevens, Mrs. T. T., Miami
Stilwell, Mrs. C. D., Miami
Stuart, Hardin V., Tallahassee
Summers, Harold L,, Honolulu, Hawaii
Sydow, William, Miami
Suwanee High School, Live Oak
Talley, Howard J., Miami
Taylor, Paul C., Miami
Therkildson, Mrs. Helen, Miami
Thomas, Wayne, Plant City
Thrift, Charles T., Jr., Lakeland
Tierney, Jos J., Coral Gables

Tompkins, Josine N., Miami
Trice, Essie Hall, Coral Gables
Trice, H. H., Coral Gables
Turnbull, Daniel F., Sarasota
Tussey, Mrs. Ethel Wayt, Miami
Tuttle, Mrs. Stella Weston, Jr., Miami
University of Florida, Gainesville
University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia
Alderman Library, University of Virginia,
Charlottesville, Va.
Van D'Elden, Mrs. Frank, Miami
Van Dijik, Arie, Yonkers, N. Y.
Van Landingham, Mrs. Walter F., Miami
Verdoorn, Frans, Waltham, Mass.
Von Paulsen, Capt C. C., Hiomestead
Von Paulsen, Mrs. C. C., Homestead
Voss, Gilbert L., Hypoluxo
Walker, Mrs. Bess Hammons, Miami
Walker, Marvin H., Lakeland
Wall, Ed., Albany, N. Y.
Walsh, George C., Miami
Ward, Mrs. Charles E., Miami
Warner, Miss Elmina, Miami
Warner, William, Miami
Warren, Mrs. Dora M., Oakland Park
Watson, Mrs. Alfred B., Keystone Heights
Watson, J., Tom, Tampa
Wenner, Henry S., Jr., Miami
West, Mrs. Roger H., Daytona Beach
Wheeler, B. B., Miami Beach
Whitehurst, Mrs. Charles E., Coral Gables
Whittlesey, Mrs. 01ie Robinson, Miami
Wieseman, William, Miami
Wight, William S., Miami
Wiler, A. H., Jr., Miami Beach
Wiler, Mrs. A. H., Jr., Hollywood
Wilkerson, B. I., Jr., Miami
Wills, George E., Coconut Grove
Wilson, Ben E., Miami
Wilson, F. Page, Miami
Wilson, Mrs. Gaines R., Coconut Grove
Wilson, Miss Virginia, Miami
Wolin, S. Roger, Miami
Wood, Mrs. Agnes Faris, Miami
Wright, Mrs. Victor A., Miami
Yonge, Julien C., Gainesville
Young, John G., Coral Gables
Younghams, S. W., Miami
Zenker, Ramond, Coconut Grove



Arthur Griffith
Mrs. Thelma Peters
First Vice-President
F. Page Wilson
Second Vice-President
Justin P. Havee
Recording Secretary

David 0. True
Corresponding Secretary
Edwin G. Bishop
Mrs. Lulu C. Epting
Charlton W. Tebeau


Adam G. Adams
Bowman F. Ashe
Charles M. Brookfield
Thomas P. Caldwell
Ruby Leach Carson
Joseph M. Cheetham
J. K. Dorn
Joseph J. Deedmeyer
Marjory Stoneman Douglas
Mrs. Henry J. Egger
Mrs. Wm. L. Freeland

John C. Gifford*
Wmi. J. Harllee
Fred B. Hartnett
F. M. Hudson
Duncan McDonald
Wirth M. Munroe
Mrs. Frank Stranahan
Mrs. Herbert 0. Vance
D. Earl Wilson
Gaines R. Wilson

* Deceased


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