Front Cover
 Half Title
 Title Page
 Table of Contents
 "Because they discovered it at...
 The pageant of the county...
 Florida remembers
 "Many pleasant groves"
 "Some record of what we were"
 Ghosts on the land
 Appendix A: Additional commemorative...
 Appendix B: Additional descriptive...
 Back Cover

Places in the sun
Full Citation
Permanent Link: http://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00103502/00001
 Material Information
Title: Places in the sun the history and romance of Florida place-names
Physical Description: x, 209 p. : maps ; 24 cm.
Language: English
Creator: Bloodworth, Bertha E., 1916-
Morris, Alton Chester ( joint author )
Publisher: University Presses of Florida
Place of Publication: Gainesville
Publication Date: 1978
Subjects / Keywords: Names, Geographical -- Florida   ( lcsh )
History, Local -- Florida   ( lcsh )
Genre: bibliography   ( marcgt )
non-fiction   ( marcgt )
Statement of Responsibility: Bertha E. Bloodworth, Alton C. Morris.
Bibliography: Bibliography: p. 205-209.
General Note: "A University of Florida book."
General Note: Includes index.
 Record Information
Source Institution: University of Florida
Holding Location: University of Florida
Rights Management: Copyright by the Board of Regents of the State of Florida. This work is licensed under a modified Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Unported License. To view a copy of this license, visit http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-nd/3.0/. You are free to electronically copy, distribute, and transmit this work if you attribute authorship. However, all printing rights are reserved by the University Press of Florida (http://www.upf.com). Please contact UPF for information about how to obtain copies of the work for print distribution. You must attribute the work in the manner specified by the author or licensor (but not in any way that suggests that they endorse you or your use of the work). For any reuse or distribution, you must make clear to others the license terms of this work. Any of the above conditions can be waived if you get permission from the University Press of Florida. Nothing in this license impairs or restricts the author's moral rights.
Resource Identifier: oclc - 03310518
lccn - 77013754
isbn - 0813005442
Classification: lcc - F309 .B55
ddc - 975.9
System ID: UF00103502:00001

Table of Contents
    Front Cover
        Front Cover 1
        Front Cover 2
    Half Title
        Page i
        Page ii
    Title Page
        Page iii
        Page iv
    Table of Contents
        Page v
        Page vi
        Page vii
        Page viii
        Page ix
        Page x
    "Because they discovered it at Easter"
        Page 1
        Page 2
        Page 3
        Page 4
        Page 5
        Page 6
        Page 7
        Page 8
        Page 9
        Page 10
    The pageant of the county names
        Page 11
        Page 12
        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
    Florida remembers
        Page 41
        Page 42
        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
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        Page 63
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        Page 74
        Page 75
        Page 76
        Page 77
        Page 78
        Page 79
        Page 80
        Page 81
    "Many pleasant groves"
        Page 82
        Page 83
        Page 84
        Page 85
        Page 86
        Page 86-1
        Page 86-2
        Page 86-3
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        Page 87
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        Page 100
        Page 101
        Page 102
        Page 103
        Page 104
        Page 105
        Page 106
        Page 107
        Page 108
        Page 109
        Page 110
    "Some record of what we were"
        Page 111
        Page 112
        Page 113
        Page 114
        Page 115
        Page 116
        Page 117
        Page 118
        Page 119
        Page 120
        Page 121
        Page 122
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        Page 132
        Page 133
        Page 134
        Page 135
        Page 136
        Page 137
        Page 138
        Page 139
    Ghosts on the land
        Page 140
        Page 141
        Page 142
        Page 143
        Page 144
        Page 145
        Page 146
        Page 147
        Page 148
        Page 149
        Page 150
    Appendix A: Additional commemorative names
        Page 151
        Page 152
        Page 153
        Page 154
        Page 155
        Page 156
        Page 157
        Page 158
        Page 159
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        Page 170
        Page 171
        Page 172
        Page 173
        Page 174
        Page 175
        Page 176
    Appendix B: Additional descriptive names
        Page 177
        Page 178
        Page 179
        Page 180
        Page 181
        Page 182
        Page 183
        Page 184
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        Page 205
        Page 206
        Page 207
        Page 208
        Page 209
        Page 210
    Back Cover
        Back Cover 1
        Back Cover 2
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Places in the Sun

Places in the Sun
The History and Romance
of Florida Place-Names

Bertha E. Bloodworth
Alton C. Morris

A University of Florida Book
The University Presses of Florida

. B55

Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data

Bloodworth, Bertha E.
Places in the sun.

"A University of Florida book."
Bibliography: p.
Includes index.
1. Names, Geographical-Florida. 2. Florida-History, Local.
I. Morris, Alton Chester, joint author.
II. Title.
F309.B55 975.9 77-13754
ISBN 0-8130-0544-2

The University Presses of Florida is the
scholarly publishing agency for the State
University System of Florida.

Copyright 1978 by the Board of Regents
of the State of Florida

Typography by Copy Grafix, Tallahassee

Printed by Storter Printing Company, Inc., Gainesville


Foreword by Alton C. Morris ix
1 "Because They Discovered It at Easter" 1
2 The Pageant of the County Names 11
3 Florida Remembers 41
4 "Many Pleasant Groves" 82
5 "Some Record of What We Were" 111
6 Ghosts on the Land 140
Appendix A: Additional Commemorative Names 151
Appendix B: Additional Descriptive Names 177
Bibliography 205
Index following page 86
Maps appear on end leaves and pages vi, vii, 12, 13


ALACHUA, Gainesville
BAKER, Macclenny
BAY, Panama City
BREVARD, Titusville
BROWARD, Ft Lauderdale
CALHOUN, Blountstown
CHARLOTTE, Punta Gorda
CITRUS, Inverness
CLAY, Green Cove Springs
COLLIER, East Naples
DADE, Miami
DE SOTO, Arcadia
DIXIE, Cross City
DUVAL, Jacksonville
ESCAMBIA, Pensacola
FLAGLER, Bunnell
FRANKLIN, Apalachlcola
GLADES, Moorehaven
GULF, Wewahltchka
HARDEE, Wauchula
HERNANDO, Brooksville
HOLMES, Bonifay
JACKSON, Marianna
JEFFERSON, Monticello
LAKE, Tavares
LEE, Fort Myers
LEON, Tallahassee
LEVY, Bronson
LIBERTY, Bristol
MADISON, Madison
MANATEE, Bradenton
MARTIN, Stuart
MONROE, Key West
NASSAU, Fernandina
OKALOOSA, Crestview
OKEECHOBEE, Okeechobee
ORANGE, Orlando
OSCEOLA, Kissimmee
PALM BEACH, West Palm Beach
PASCO, Dade City
PINELLAS, Clearwater
POLK, Bartow
PUTNAM, Palatka
ST. JOHNS, St. Augustine
ST. LUCIE, Ft. Pierce
SARASOTA, Sarasota
SUMTER, Bushnell
UNION, Lake Butler
WAKULLA, Crawfordville
WALTON, DeFuniak Springs





FRED LEWIS PATTEE in his essay "The Soul of Florida" describes
Florida as a "Never-never Land," "the land of escape," "a domain
beyond the rabbit-hole where romance still lingers." The men and
women who came to Florida for adventure and the settlers whose
roots were embedded deeply in the soil gave names to towns and
villages reflecting the romance they found or the history that
they made. The place-names of this state tell us what these people
found here and preserve a record of the endeavors they wished
to make permanent for posterity. These names display what Flo-
ridians have believed in, what sides they took in wars and politics,
where they came from, what they thought was funny or beautiful
or impressive, whom they admired, what natural phenomena
molded their culture, and what supported their economy. The
place-names of Florida presented here illuminate those spots
of time that the authors have found meaningful and momentous
in the development of the state.
The sources from which this information is drawn are various,
some of them not wholly reliable, but an attempt has been made
to winnow fact from fiction in the history of the naming of
Florida's places. The unpublished and unedited Federal Writers'
Project of the Works Projects Administration, which attempted
in the Depression years of the 1930s an etymology of all Florida
place-names, has been a source, for example. Similarly the endeav-
ors of one hundred National Youth Administration workers who
collected old settlers' stories and the folklore of the state under

the supervision of one of the authors of the book have made a con-
tribution. The Allen Morris Florida Handbook has been useful.
For the names of Indian origin the authors are indebted princi-
pally to the manuscript dictionary of the late Clarence Simpson
(edited by Mark F. Boyd and published by the Florida Geological
Survey) and to the dictionary of place-names of Indian origin
published by William Read in 1934. The early maps of Florida have
proven useful in showing the semantic changes that have taken
place as the state developed and as new names supplanted the
original ones. In addition to works specifically devoted to place-
names, the authors have researched many other printed mate-
rials-handbooks, histories, newspapers, documents-and have
interviewed and corresponded with various officials and private
citizens concerning names both old and new. The purpose of this
book, then, has been to bring together in one volume an honest,
comprehensive picture of Florida as unveiled in her place-names.
For purposes of presentation the authors have discussed the
naming of Florida, the histories of the county names, the stories
of the men and women who left a legacy to the state and whose
names Floridians have wished to commemorate, the contributions
that the flora and fauna and topography have made in naming
the land, the cultural history that has made an impact, and certain
lost names from Florida's past that should not go unremembered.
The authors wish to acknowledge their indebtedness to all those
persons, past and present, who have assisted in making this book
possible and to the administration of the University of Florida,
which made time and financial assistance available to them in
their endeavor to put together the Florida place-name story.

"Because They Discovered
It at Easter"

THE FIRST PERMANENT NAME bestowed by the white man on the
continent of North America was FLORIDA. We may with much
justice assert that it is older than the name of America itself, since
that name was not fully recognized and applied to the whole west-
ern hemisphere until Mercator placed it on his map in 1538; and
even after that, it was seriously questioned. Before that, in 1507,
the name had been proposed and had been written on a map to
designate the continent of South America by a German scholar
named Waldseemuller, who was taken in by certain letters to
which the name of Amerigo Vespucci had been forged. But even
as late as 1627 a demand was made for the suppression of all geo-
graphical works and maps containing the name America.
Meanwhile, on April 2, 1513, during the Easter season, Juan
Ponce de Le6n of Spain had bestowed on the green shores of North
America the name Florida, which has never been in jeopardy,
though the area it designated has several times changed in size
through the years. If the Spanish had dominated in North
America, there seems every reason to suppose that the entire con-
tinent would have been called Florida, for all the land they saw to
the north and west of the present peninsula was regarded as a
part of the Florida territory by the Spaniards.
As things happened, the name rests today where it was born-on
that peninsula which Ponce de Le6n thought was a great island,
like Cuba-and it calls to the imaginative mind the mystery and
wonder of those days when no man knew what lay beyond the

horizon. For, as foremost place-name authority George Stewart
remarks, "the meaning of a name is more than the meaning of the
words composing it."
As for Florida, the meaning of the word is significant in itself.
Its connotation of flowers and its remembrance of Easter speak
poetry to every sensitive ear. Antonio de Herrera, historiogra-
pher to His Catholic Majesty the king of Spain, says of the dis-
covery and naming, "Believing that land to be an island, they
nam'd it Florida because it appeared very delightful, having many
pleasant groves, and it was all level; as also because they dis-
covered it at Easter, which as has been said, the Spaniards called
Pasqua de Flores, or Florida." A twentieth-century historian em-
broiders the story thus: "Partly in consequence of the bright spring
verdure and flowery plains that met his eye, and the magnificence
of the magnolia, the bay and the laurel, and partly in honor of
the day, Pasqua Florida, or Palm Sunday, and reminded, prob-
ably, of its appropriateness by the profusion of the cabbage palms
near the point of his landing, he gave to the country the name of
That two reasons-the beauty of the place and the time of year-
could so coincide as to find their justification in a single word will
ever be the delight of name fanciers. The absence of a priest on
the Ponce de Le6n expedition to tell which saint's day it was may
have prevented the somewhat automatic Spanish custom of
naming the place for a saint. If so, we may be grateful for that
lack, and we may also be thankful that Juan Ponce was so impa-
tient for a name that he did not wait to learn what the Indians
called the land, for surely Florida was the best possible choice.
In time the English put their mark upon the word by shifting
the stress from the second to the first syllable and changing the
quality of the vowels (not to mention the alteration of the Spanish
r), so that today it would sound strange to Ponce de Leon's ears,
though to Americans it sounds like flowers still. The Floridian
may well revel in the name, for few indeed must be the place-
names which in a single breath both commemorate and describe.
Cool-headed realists take pleasure in disclosing that Florida
was not discovered on Easter Sunday, as romantics have liked to
say. But what matter as long as Easter was close enough at hand
for Juan Ponce to think of it when he needed a name for the new
land? Easter was in late March that year, and it was early in April
when Juan Ponce and his men, edging in to the beach, first saw

the woodlands of Florida. Sometime thereafter, Ponce de Le6n
went ashore and took possession; how ceremoniously we cannot
know; he had no priests for mass, no government officials, no his-
torians, but we associate ceremony with those Renaissance con-
quistadores, and we sense drama in that long-ago event, when
Florida became, once and for all, the name of a New-World penin-
sula. There is no indication that the name has ever been questioned
throughout the centuries since 1513. All the nations that claimed
Florida as their own took her name along with the land, and when
the territory became one of the United States of America in 1845,
there was no debate, as in the case of some other territories, con-
cerning that name.
George Stewart, in Names on the Land, said, "The land has been
named, and the names are rooted deep. . Let the conqueror
come, or the revolution rage; many of our names have survived
both already, and may again. Though the books should be burned
and the people themselves be cut off, still from the names-as from
arrowheads and potsherds-the patient scholar may piece to-
gether some record of what we were."
Such a scholar would read in the place-names of Florida the
names of men and women and would know that Florida had
honored those who built her. He would see in the language of those
names that the builders came from many places. He would see
that her people had remembered events and had commemorated
ideals that were dear to them, and by these he would know what
kind of a people they were. He would note names on Florida's map
which were the same as those of other places throughout the world,
and from this he would see again that Florida had been a cosmo-
politan place. He would see how Florida's place-names describe
her and would know from this what things about the land her
people prized most-what things they most wanted the world to
know about her. He would read in the metaphor of these names
the hopes her people had for the places, and the poetry that stirred
in the namers' hearts. He would see some of the people's means of
livelihood. He would learn that humor and whimsy played their
part in the naming of places, and perhaps he would decipher some
of the word play engaged in, whether or not he could trace the folk
etymology and the other processes of change in the names. He
would guess the religious affiliations of the people and learn some-
thing of their literary tastes. And he would see much that was
mystery from an ancient past.

To us, from whom the books are not burned nor the people cut
off, the names can tell all these things more clearly and com-
pletely. The names of the people on Florida's map, from Chris-
topher Columbus to John F. Kennedy, give us, when we investigate
them, about as complete a story of Florida's history since 1492
as could be written. They tell us of the Spanish discoverers and
explorers (Ponce de Le6n, de Soto); of the short-lived French
regime (Ribault); of the time of the British occupation (Hillsbor-
ough, Charlotte, Turnbull); of the second Spanish occupation
(Fernandez, Gomez, Gonzales); of the American territorial period
(Jackson, Walton, DuVal) and the Seminole Wars (Osceola,
Micanopy, Dade); of early statehood (Levy, Polk); of the Civil War
(Lee, Bradford); of the Spanish-American War (Dewey); of World
War I (Pershing, Samsula); and even of World War II (MacArthur),
though by then the naming was nearly done.
For the most part we can tell by the names of these men where
Florida's allegiance lay in the various wars. But if the books had
been burned and Florida's history had really been lost, it must be
admitted that there would be ample room for error in reconstruct-
ing her history from the names alone. A confusing factor would be
the many names of American Revolutionary heroes and founding
fathers among the Florida place-names, for these names were
given retrospectively and reflect the loyalties of men who came
to Florida nearly fifty years after the Revolution, during which
Florida had been a loyal British colony. But those Americans who
began to settle Florida in the 1820s first brought her to maturity
as a homeland, and their traditions made an imprint upon her
map. Even the scholar without guideposts would not be misled
if he assumed from these names that Florida's people had a solid
American tradition behind them as well as an inheritance from
the Spanish, the French, the English, and the Indians. He would
know, too, which flag flew over Florida in the tragic War between
the States, and thus the names would account for all of Florida's
major commitments over hundreds of years.
Besides such broad matters as national loyalties and commit-
ments, we can see in the commemorative names on Florida's map
her recognition of local enterprise and leadership-reflected in
the places named for postmasters and merchants and solid citizens
whose fame was purely local. We see her respect and apprecia-
tion for millionaire developers (Flagler, Plant, Collier), who
opened up her wilderness and made possible her magic twentieth-

century growth. We see, too, that she honored her governors and
legislators in her naming, and that the colorful past of the pirates
and smugglers off her coast was not blotted from the record. We
see that some of her people remembered the kindness and love
and beauty of women when they named lakes and towns and that
they sometimes perpetuated the memory of their children in the
place-names they gave.
Some of what we see in the hundreds of names commemorating
people on the map of Florida is substantiated by the names which
commemorate ideas and ideals (Union, Liberty, Dixie, Fellow-
ship), showing the genuine American heritage of Floridians. And
the names that directly commemorate events which occurred at
the places-Matanzas and Court Martial-add to the history
already told in the personal names.
In the names that commemorate places elsewhere, we read
again the record of Florida as a place where men from all over
the United States and from far places throughout the world have
gathered. Yamato, Slavia, New Upsala, New Smyrna, Andalusia,
Bohemia, Dania, Gotha, Hibernia, Switzerland-all these names
and more tell of people who came from faraway places to this
American peninsula seeking a better home.
Florida is a land of palms and pines and oaks and "many pleas-
ant groves." This we read abundantly in her place-names-Palm
Beach, Pinellas, Oakhurst, Cedar Keys, Cypress, and others. She
is a land where oranges grow; names that say "orange" in several
ways tell us so-Orange, Citrus, Naranja, Aurantia, Yalaha, Sat-
suma, Seville. She is a land of flowers, and her own name as well
as the names of hundreds of her places record this fact-Flora,
Lotus, Oleander, Magnolia Springs, Garden City, Myrtle Grove,
and so on. Her names tell us, too, of the Spanish moss so character-
istic of her landscape-Moss Bluff, Mossdale, Mossyhead. Those
names that describe her vegetation reveal Florida as a transition
spot where the temperate and tropical climates meet: Banyan,
Bamboo, and Palm City, as well as Pine Level and Oak Knoll, are
all within her borders.
Similarly, the names that tell of Florida's wildlife give us a
picture of a place where the temperate zone and the tropics meet-
Alligator Bay, Snake Creek, Mosquito Inlet, Bear Creek, Bee
Ridge, Bullfrog Creek, Deer Island, Echashotee River ("Beaver
House River"), Fox Point, Rabbit Island, Raccoon Key, Tiger Bay,
Gopher Ridge, Loggerhead Key, Wolf Creek, Manatee, and Otter

Creek. And there are the names for the domestic animals, which
do not after all describe Florida except as a place inhabited by
man-Cowpen and Duroc and Stock Island being a few of them.
Many of Florida's birds, too, are listed in her place-names-for
example, Cuckoo Point, Curlew, Dove Key, Duck Key, Gull Point,
and Pelican Island. Like her hundreds of fish names-Devil Fish
Key, Oyster Bay, Pompano, Trout Creek, and others-they corrob-
orate the hint of her plant and animal names that Florida is a
land of many waters and much coastline. The direct water
names-like Bahia, Bayport, Gulf, Surfside, Broadbranch, and
Lakeland-labor the point. No one would be in doubt about
Florida's abundance of water, both fresh and salt, if he had only a
list of her place-names.
Other place-names describe the low land (Boggy Point) and
the high land (Alturas), though some names, such as Mountain
Lake, exaggerate the height of the land, for Florida is nowhere
truly mountainous, in spite of the extensive rolling country in
some sections. Some names describe the sinkholes (Alachua) and
the flat lands (Acline), and some of them (Everglades and Pahokee)
tell of trackless rivers of grass found in Florida alone.
The sunshine that furnished Florida with one of her nick-
names-"the Sunshine State"-has also furnished her with a
number of place-names-Sun City, Sunniland, and Sunshine
Beach being examples. And the Florida sand that the folk say will
always bring the wanderer back if he gets it in his shoes has in-
spired the names of several places, such as Cape Sable, Sand
Island, and Sandy Creek.
Some names, half cultural and half descriptive, tell us not only
what Florida is like but what the namers thought. These names
express approbation and the bragging which is characteristic
of a pioneer people-Belleair, Charm, Frostproof, Safety Harbor,
Winter Haven, Content Key, Buena Vista, and Zephyrhills.
Other names which tell us something of the people as well as
of the land speak of the occupations and industries which arose
from the natural conditions of Florida. For example, there is
Brickton, telling of the brickyards which utilized the red clay of
northwest Florida; there is Farmdale, representing the agricul-
tural pursuits of the area; there are Logging River, Lumberton,
and Mill City, recalling the lumber industry; there is Azucar,
calling attention to the sugar industry of the section.
Some names are particularly rich in a quality which separates

them from the purely commemorative and descriptive categories.
A study of the cultural names on Florida's map shows many things
about Floridians-inventiveness, humor, whimsy, religion, super-
stition, literary taste, and legend, as well as a deliberate striving
toward poetry and romance, and the naturalness that creates poetry
without effort.
Among Florida's place-names there are many which reflect the
wish of the namers to be poetic, to connote beauty and romance.
Bal Harbour, Floweree, Honey Heights, Lyrata, Solana, and Taru
are characteristic. Many such names began as the names of real-
estate developments in the Florida boom days and were selected
for their sales appeal, but some were given in older days out of
sheer pride, and all reflect the imagination of the namers and
their feeling for the exotic and romantic.
A certain crude ingenuity and inventiveness are seen in the
names which are reverse spellings of words significant to the
places-Nolem, Ekal, Remlap, and Senyah. Names like Flomich,
Talquin, Okeelanta, Pennsuco, and Sanlando demonstrate in-
genuity too, in their combinations of syllables from two or more
words which together tell a great deal about the place designated.
The linguistic trait called "blending" is a characteristic of some
of these names-Tamiami and Indialantic, for example. Language
mixture sometimes takes place-as in Indrio and Belleview-
while some of the names of this nature, like Belmar, take their
syllables from words in the same language.
Another way that Florida's people have played with words to
make names is by shortening older names-Okaloo (from Oka-
loosa), Withla and Lacoochee (from Withlacoochee), and Wannee
(from Suwannee), for example. Sometimes they have simply con-
structed a euphonious word by changing the ending of an "un-
poetic" one which means much to the community-as exemplified
in Phosphoria (from the phosphate mined in the area). They have
exhibited humor and playfulness in names like Teen Jay for a
station on the "T. 'n' J.," an early railroad connecting Tampa and
Jacksonville, and they have strung together initial letters of a
phrase to make a name-as in Kicco (Kissimmee Island Cattle
Company). In many cases they have simply let the names "hap-
pen," and places have been called what came naturally to the
inhabitants-Cuke, Spuds, Hen Scratch, and Pin Hook, for in-
stance. Names like Peghorn, Two Egg, and Norum came about
because of incidents which intrigued or amused the namers, and

a name like the Devil's Millhopper reflects the superstition and
imagination of the folk. Yankeetown was a name given in derision
and accepted in defiance, and Crackertown was the name that
answered it. Some names are bluntly eloquent of their era-Tele-
graph Creek, Neon, Texaco-and may be the poetry of another age.
Floridians have taken names from other languages and have
"made sense" of them in their own language. On the basis of what
the foreign names sounded like to them, they have made Key West
from the Spanish Cayo Hueso ("Bone Key") and Black Creek from
the Spanish Blanco (or "white") River. And for all we can tell,
the Indians' Suwannee and Sampala may go beyond mere corrup-
tion and be folk etymologies for the Spaniards' San Juan and
San Pablo. For names they did not change but still could not
understand, Floridians have invented derivations-"My! Am I?"
for Miami and "He's stiff and ugly" for Estiffanulga.
In doing all these things, Floridians have followed the habit
of place-namers all over America, but their namings have been
distinctly Floridian because all such processes, being a sort of
folklore, follow the culture in which they take place.
Floridians have honored the historical past of their state by
giving Spanish names, sometimes ignorantly and incorrectly,
and Indian names, sometimes with little significance except their
Indian sound. They have misspelled names and so changed them
that their origin is lost to the eye (e.g., Waukeenah for Joachina).
By a strange and complicated process, they have derived Jupiter
from the lost Indian Hoe Bay and Charlotte from the ancient
Calos. They have translated some names and let others stand
as they were. They have made linguistic mistakes like adding
the superfluous "River" to Indian names that already contained
the word, such as Choctawhatchee River-hatchee being the
Seminole-Creek word for "river" or "creek." They have made many
mistakes, but they have made many happy choices too, and they
have retained enough from the past and added enough of both
the present and the past to the list of place-names to give the whole
a particularly Floridian flavor. The mistakes and fumbling of a
people are an index of its culture too, and the "mistaken" names
are as interesting and valuable a part of our heritage as any.
But cultural names tell of more than fancy and folkways. They
tell of religion and reading as well. In Florida a long parade of
saints' names-among them St. John, Santa Rosa, and St. Augus-
tine-recalls the Roman Catholic religion of Florida's first white

settlers. One name (Iola) hints at the religion of her Indian people.
St. George's Island is a record of faith left by the British. And
biblical names all over the map (Salem, Shiloh, Sharon) proclaim
the sturdy protestantism of the American settlers.
As for literature, the place-names of Florida reflect the reading
habits of an English-speaking people. Classical mythology and
legend have given her a sizeable group of place-names-Jupiter,
Juno, Mars, Neptune, Marathon, Electra. Names from English
authors-among them Kipling (Mandalay), Shakespeare (Romeo
and Juliette [sic]), and George DuMaurier (Trilby)-dot the
Florida map. And American writers-Longfellow (Minnehaha
Lake and Nokomis) and Edgar Rice Burroughs (Tarzan)-have
furnished names for Florida places. Fairy tales (Golden Egg)
and the Arabian Nights (Aladdin) were a part of the background
of the namers, too.
So people have demonstrated in naming Florida places what
they cherish and believe in, what some of their limitations were,
and most abundantly what their limitations were not and how
wide their horizons were. These names-commemorative, descrip-
tive, and cultural- have told a story and painted a picture amaz-
ingly detailed. Not the least attractive of the details is the mys-
tery that lingers still in names of ancient vintage-Wakulla,
Ocala, Sarasota-telling of a past we cannot penetrate. The native
American who roamed the Florida swamps and hills before the
white man came is remembered still as long as these names en-
dure. They, as well as the names the later Indians gave and the
ones the white man made from their language, are an aspect of
the glamour of Florida. Strangers repeat with wonder and fasci-
nation the strange syllables of Miccosukee, Chattahoochee, Wewa-
hitchka, and Kanapaha. That in literal translation these exotic
syllables are frequently rather prosaic descriptive tags matters
little, and the white man has fallen into the habit of romanticizing
the English translations when necessary to preserve his illusion.
For Florida is above all else a land of romance.
Land of Romance, indeed, is one of the epithets popularly applied
to the state. Others are Land of Flowers, Never Never Land, Birth-
place of a Nation, Empire of the Sun, Land of Promise, and Land
of the Second Chance. These epithets and the place-names scattered
over the entire state repeat in many ways the romance and re-
awakening expressed in the name that Ponce de Leon gave the
land. It is a place of strange and many-splendored names, telling

a story exceedingly varied and difficult to grasp in its full meaning.
Florida as revealed in her place-names is a land with a polyglot
heritage and a lively history-a land of work and industry and a
land of vacation and play-a haven for wanderers the world over-
a land of beauty and plainness-a land of tradition and imagina-
tion-a land of yesterday and tomorrow. Her place-names have
abundantly lived up to the romantic beginning that Ponce de
Le6n made when he gave the name with a double meaning to the
New World peninsula nearly five centuries ago. In the discussion
that follows, the reader will find details of how the land was named
and see the ingenuity of those who had a part in the naming.


The Pageant of the County Names

THE ESTABLISHMENT and official naming of Florida's sixty-seven
counties extended over a period of 104 years, from 1821 to 1925,
but the names themselves recall a story more than four centuries
long. Some of them, indeed, suggest a time before the white man's
New World romance began, but that suggestion is dim and only fit-
fully illuminated by the wavering light of conjecture. Let the names
tell first the story the white man knows.
Most of the county names commemorate men who took part in
Florida's history since 1513 or who have been important to her
people in some way during those centuries. Discussing these names
in order of historical associations, though not in the order of their
bestowal, we first encounter COLUMBIA COUNTY, named for Chris-
topher Columbus, who, though he was cheated of the honor due
him when the New World he discovered was named for a man
who never saw it, lives on in "Columbia," which poets apply to
that world and which men have generously attached to its rivers,
cities, lakes, motion-picture theaters, hotels, streets, counties, busi-
ness establishments, and almost anything nameable. The naming
of Columbia County in Florida is one of the many belated tributes
to Isabella's ill-treated admiral. The county was established and
named on February 4, 1832, the sixteenth county of the United

I. F o r

I Ii I C

H.S. Tanner, Map of Florida, 1850.

-WNW=-WtL. giv&

Ortelius. La Florida. 1584.

States Territory of Florida, when the fearful voyage of the Niia,
the Pinta, and the Santa Maria was 340 years past. Though Chris-
topher Columbus himself did not set foot on her shore, his dis-
covery of the New World gives him a rightful place among the
company which gathers when Florida's county names are called.
Juan Ponce de Le6n, though perhaps not the first European to
sail to Florida, is called its discoverer because he bestowed upon
it a lasting name and claimed the land for his king. It would be
strange indeed if Floridians had failed to honor him as they filled
their map with names. His name is liberally used, not only for
places but for hotels, theaters, streets, and a host of other things.
Appropriately, the county which was named for him is the one in
which the capital of the state is located-LEON COUNTY. He himself
would hardly recognize the name as his own, for its American
pronunciation not only changes the quality of both vowels, but
shifts the accent, so that the Spanish "lay-6hn" is now the Ameri-
can "le6-un." Even Floridians are frequently surprised to learn
that the name honors Ponce de Le6n, for they are accustomed to
using his name in full, as doubtless he himself was. The usual-and
correct-habit of Floridians when they shorten it is to say "Ponce"
(which they pronounce "pahnts"), as was shown in their custom of
referring affectionately to St. Augustine's famous Ponce de Leon
Hotel (now no longer a hotel) as "the Ponce," never "the Leon." De
Leon was, after all, only a distinguishing phrase added to Juan
Ponce's family name to indicate the family's place of origin or resi-
dence-the province of Le6n in Spain. But the men who named the
county overlooked this fact, and "Leon" was the name they chose
in honor of Juan Ponce de Le6n. Leon County, despite its preemi-
nence in rank and in historical associations, is not the oldest of
Florida's counties. It was established and named in 1824, along
with four other counties, after five had already been established
during the years 1821, 1822, and 1823.
Twenty-six years after Ponce de Le6n added the name of Florida
to the world map, another Spaniard sailed to that green land and
spent the winter of 1539-40 within a few miles of what is now
Tallahassee, celebrating with his band of soldiers and priests the
first Christmas ever known in what became the United States.
That man was Hernando de Soto (sometimes Ferdinando or
Fernando de Soto), and Florida honors him today with two of her
county names-HERNANDO and DE SOTO. The first was named for
him in 1850, and the second in 1887.

One gentleman of the sixteenth century who enters rather du-
biously the assembly of those men evoked by Florida's county
names is His Catholic Majesty Charles I of Spain, who as Charles
V was also Holy Roman Emperor. For many years, it was believed
that CHARLOTTE COUNTY was named for him by his Spanish coun-
trymen, although there was no direct evidence of it.
Charlotte County was created and named by the Florida legis-
lature in 1921. However, it is safe to say that nobody at all was in
the minds of the solons, for the county got its name from Charlotte
Harbor (one time Charlotte Bay), on which it borders. That name
had been on the Florida map since the British regime (1763-83),
but one must look 200 years before that time to find the whole
truth. On the map of the artist Le Moyne, who recorded in pictures
the French Huguenot expedition of Jean Ribault to Florida in
1562, there appeared the name Calos to designate the southern
part of the peninsula of Florida. At the time of the coming of the
Europeans, a powerful tribe of Indians called the Calusa con-
trolled all of Florida south of Tampa Bay; and it seems obvious
that Le Moyne's Calos referred to the kingdom of these Indians.
The Spanish, however, sometimes corrupted the name to Carlos,
and on their maps there appeared for what is now Charlotte Har-
bor the name Bahia de Carlos ("Bay of Charles"). Because of this
corruption, there grew a notion in the Spanish mind that the name
of the Indians came from Spanish Carlos. Fontaneda, a sixteenth-
century Spaniard who lived captive among the Calusa for a while,
said that Calusa meant "a fierce people," and he probably was
right. But Solis de Meras says, "This Cacique [chief] was called
Carlos because his father was so-called, and his father gave him-
self that name, because the Christian captives he had, told him that
the Emperor Charles was the greatest King of the Christians."
This is how Charles V enters the scene. That Carlos was really
a white man's corruption of the native Calusa (or whatever it
might have been in the local Indian tongue, for the early Euro-
peans were hopelessly inept at transcribing the Indian names) is
of some moment in arriving at the ultimate truth; but the fact
does not deny His Catholic Majesty a place in the Florida sun, for
a name means what its users intend for it to mean, and for a long
while in the course of its evolution the name of Charlotte Harbor
stood for Charles V.
When the English took over Florida, they did not stop at simply
translating the Spanish Carlos to the English Charles, but went

a step further and feminized it to Charlotte. It is altogether likely
that the English seized this opportunity to honor the queen of
George III, then ruling England. Throughout the British colo-
nial world in the mid-eighteenth century "Charlotte" place-names
were appearing for this reason: Charlotte, North Carolina; Char-
lottesville, Virginia; and Charlottetown, Prince Edward Island,
Canada, are examples. Charlotte Harbor in Florida was then called
Charlotte Bay and variations thereon, and appears in Jedediah
Morse's American Gazetteer of 1797 as Charlotte Haven. It appa-
rently was first given the name "Charlotte" by Bernard Romans
on his 1774 map.
And so this name came down from the aboriginal past, evolving
and shifting through error and chance until it became the name
of a county. We could simply call the county name a transfer, since
it came from that of a harbor; we could go back one step and say
it commemorates Charlotte of England; we could go back still fur-
ther and say that it honors Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor; or
we could go back to what is for us its ultimate beginning and call
it commemorative of a vanished tribe of Indians. It seems justifi-
able to take all these steps and admit the Calusa, Charles V, and
Charlotte to the company of those commemorated in the county
names of Florida.
No men of the seventeenth century are honored in the names
of Florida counties. During this century the Spaniards continued
their attempts to colonize the peninsula, and today its map still
carries names bestowed by them; but later Floridians, when the
counties were named, did not see fit to single out any of these
Spaniards for recognition. The next phase of the Florida romance
as it is hinted at in the county names is the period of the English
occupation, 1763-83. After long fighting, Florida was the ransom
paid by Spain to the British for the return of Havana in 1763.
England held the peninsula uneasily, harassed by both the Ameri-
cans (for this was the American Revolutionary period) and the
Spaniards, until she returned it to Spain in 1783 in exchange for
the Bahamas.
One county name (in addition to Charlotte)-that of HILLS-
BOROUGH COUNTY-stands as a monument to these twenty years
of British possession. Writers on the subject say that Willis Hill,
second Viscount Hillsborough, received a large grant of land in
Florida while the British crown had the power to bestow it and

was much interested in the development of the territory. He be-
came secretary of state for the colonies the year before Bernard
Romans' exploration of Florida's west coast, and it was on Romans'
1774 map that his name first appeared, on Hillsborough Bay.
Though place-name literature unanimously states that the county
was named for Lord Hillsborough, it actually was named for Hills-
borough Bay and the other topographic features which had re-
tained his name since the English occupation. For these features
the spelling of the name is now Hillsboro-as apparently it once
was for the county name. It is so shown on Rand-McNally maps of
1893, 1903, and 1913, but the map of 1923 shows it as Hillsborough,
as it has remained ever since and as the United States Geographic
Board lists it. Strangely, on the 1893 map Hillsboro Bay appears
as Hillsborough Bay, though the river and county are shown as
Hillsboro. But no matter how confusing the changes seem or how
illogical the present official variations in spelling are, Hills-
borough is a name which gained a solid footing in Florida during
the British period and has spread extensively over the peninsula.
The county which bears the name was formed in 1834.
Though Florida was a "loyal" colony and served as a haven for
nearly 10,000 British patriots who fled the United States during
the Revolution, several of her counties, named after she had given
her allegiance to another flag, honor American Revolutionary
militarists and statesmen. WASHINGTON COUNTY was created and
named for George Washington in 1824, three years after the Span-
ish cession of Florida to the United States. SUMTER COUNTY,
named in 1835, honors Thomas Sumter, patriot and last surviving
general officer of the Revolutionary army. Prominent in the
southern campaign of the war, General Sumter was a native of
South Carolina, and the county named for him was settled largely
by emigrants from that state. JEFFERSON COUNTY was named for
Thomas Jefferson, writer of the American Declaration of Indepen-
dence and third president of the United States, early in 1827, six
months after the great man had died on Independence Day of 1826.
Benjamin Franklin, that versatile builder of America, is commem-
orated in the name of FRANKLIN COUNTY, created in 1832. And
the romantic "Swamp Fox" of the Revolution, dashing General
Francis Marion, is there; MARION COUNTY, settled largely by emi-
grants from his native South Carolina, was established and named
in his honor in 1844.

The memory of one great foreigner-Marie Joseph Paul Yves
Roch Gilbert du Motier, the Marquis de Lafayette of France, who
stands tall among the American Revolutionary group-is evoked
by the name of the thirty-third county, LAFAYETTE COUNTY, estab-
lished in 1856, eleven years after Florida achieved statehood.
Lafayette's connection with the American Revolution is well
known, but it may be instructive to mention that he had a more
direct connection with Florida in that the United States Congress
granted him in 1824 a township of land (23,040 acres) in the Flor-
ida territory, just east of Tallahassee. Though he never came to
Florida, he took an interest in the territory (dreaming of a slave-
free colony that would be a bit of old France, with vineyards and
the culture of silkworms as the chief industries) and sent French
settlers to it. The marquis had met Richard Keith Call, Florida's
territorial delegate in Congress, and had been greatly impressed.
Florida's territorial legislature sent the Frenchman an invitation
to make Florida his home. In 1832, a small colony of Norman peas-
ants, led by a few of Lafayette's friends, settled on his Florida
land, but disease and climate defeated them, and the colony died.
Although Lafayette himself died in 1834 without ever seeing his
land, the township he chose near Tallahassee remained in the
possession of his heirs until it was sold in 1855. Even today, Talla-
hasseeans refer to a certain area to the east of the city as the
"Lafayette Community."
Alexander Hamilton, George Washington's brilliant secretary
of the treasury, joined the honored group of early Americans
when HAMILTON COUNTY was named for him in 1827, at the same
time that MADISON COUNTY was named to honor James Madison,
fourth president of the young nation (1809-17). The latter county,
next-door neighbor to Jefferson, was settled largely by Virginia
colonists-hence the name in honor of a great Virginian.

An exciting chapter in the long Florida story concerns the wars
against the Seminole Indians. According to the superintendent of
the Seminole Agency (Bureau of Indian Affairs), the only treaties
the United States entered into with the Seminoles were those of
1823 and 1833. Not all Seminoles agreed to the provisions of these
treaties, and not all went west. A considerable number still reside
in the state, and have never yet surrendered to the government of

the white man. Though some factions of this proud nation are
technically still at war with us, the actual fighting was finished in
the days before Florida's statehood. Six counties of the state have
names reflecting that critical period of Florida history.
The first American war against the Seminoles took place before
Florida was "American"-i.e., during the turbulent second Span-
ish occupation, when British, Spanish, Americans, runaway
slaves, Indians, and pirates made the Florida story a tangled tale
too long for telling here. The Americans' part in the struggle was
not always an honorable one, but treachery and violence seemed
the order of the day in Florida, and by 1818 it was apparent that
Spain could not keep order there. The United States, having high-
handedly ousted the pirates and occupied Fernandina, sent Gen-
eral Andrew Jackson (or closed her eyes to his going, for some say
General Jackson took the mission upon himself) to quell the Semi-
noles, who constantly harassed the Americans who had settled in
Florida. He campaigned against the Indians and the outlaw Ne-
groes from the Suwannee River to Pensacola and provoked
protests from both Great Britain and Spain. But Spain had begun
to realize that she could not hope to hold "the Floridas" (East and
West) against the spreading Americans, and in 1819 a treaty was
negotiated by which Spain ceded them to the United States,
though Spain did not ratify the treaty for almost two years and it
was not proclaimed until February 22, 1821. Jackson, appointed
both as commissioner to receive the lands from Spain and as their
governor until a permanent civil government could be established,
chose to accept the transfer of West Florida in person, while his
adjutant, Colonel Robert Butler, acted for him in East Florida.
As things turned out, East Florida was transferred first. On
July 10, 1821, the Spanish and American flags were raised to-
gether over the historic old Castillo de San Marcos in St. Augus-
tine, and the Spanish flag was then lowered and the Spanish garri-
son marched out.
In West Florida dilatory Spanish officials delayed arrange-
ments at Pensacola while Jackson, determined not to enter the
town until he could come as governor, fumed on the outskirts. He
sent his wife, Rachel, on into the city, where she took up residence
in a house across the Plaza from Government House and waited
until the transfer could be made in circumstances of sufficient
dignity to satisfy her husband. Arrangements were completed by
July 17, and on that day General Jackson and his escort rode into

Pensacola to the beat of a military band, passed between Spanish
and American guards drawn up in the square, and entered
Government House, where the formal transfer took place.
The general was in full dress. His uniform was resplendent with
nine bands of glittering gold braid, each one topped by a large
gold button, and his heavy golden epaulets gleamed in the Florida
sun. As he reached the square, he raised his low, cockaded hat
to Rachel, who watched from the upper gallery of their house,
and "How solemn was his countenance when he dismounted from
his horse," she later wrote to a friend. The ceremonies were brief
but impressive. The Spanish guard in front of the governor's house
was called to attention and marched away. American soldiers took
their places. General Jackson, accompanied by the Spanish Gover-
nor Cavalla, walked back across the Plaza to his own house when
the brief official visit was over. As Sefior Cavalla reappeared, the
Spanish flag came slowly down and the American flag went up
(wrote Rachel), "full one hundred feet." The Spanish troops
followed their departing governor, the band broke into "The Star-
Spangled Banner," and cannons boomed. Pensacola's people, most
of them Spanish, watched in silence. "Many burst into tears,"
wrote Rachel Jackson. "I have never seen so many pale faces."
Apparently frontier America's "Old Hickory" had matched the
sophisticated Spaniards splendor for splendor on that significant
day in Florida's history and helped give to their loss a touch of
high tragedy and to America's gain more than a touch of dignity.
He did not govern Florida long. He resigned his commission in
November of that same year and returned to The Hermitage,
tired and ready to rest, though much was ahead of him (including
eight years as president of the United States) before he was to be
permitted to retire from public life. Almost as if by some design
(Fate sometimes exhibits a keen sense of the dramatic), Jackson
died in 1845, the year of Florida's statehood, and his death occa-
sioned an immediate adjournment of the new General Assembly,
which had just convened for the first time when news came of
the general's death. Members of both houses wore crepe armbands
for sixty days in his memory. Thus Andrew Jackson's figure looms
large and long in Florida's history, from Spanish times to state-
hood. So it is not surprising that "American Florida" should early
honor him by naming a county after him. Jackson himself had
named the first two counties (Escambia and St. Johns), which he
proclaimed by ordinance four days after he accepted West Florida

from the Spanish. Wisely, he had called them by names already
well established in Florida and, so far as we know, had had no
thought of perpetuating his own name upon the map. But the very
next county to be named in the new United States territory was
JACKSON COUNTY, created on August 12, 1822.
DUVAL COUNTY, created at the same time as Jackson County,
was named for William P. DuVal, first civil governor of Florida
and, before that, first judge of the superior court in the territory.
Governor DuVal, a courageous and determined man, democratic
and full of humor, and said to be the original of Washington
Irving's Ralph Ringwood, held the governorship from 1822 until
1834 and was notably successful in his dealings with the Indians,
who caused no serious trouble during his governorship. It is told
that Tiger Tail, chief of the Tallahassee Indians, furnished the
governor's wife with game and taught the DuVal children wood-
But during the first year after DuVal's administration, the
Second Seminole War broke out, brought on by the federal govern-
ment's order to the Seminoles, despite their protests, to move to
lands west of the Mississippi. January 1, 1836, was the date set
for emigration to begin, and on December 28, 1835, the rebellious
Seminoles struck. Led by the famous Osceola, who had dramat-
ically flung his knife and pinned the white man's treaty to the
council table when he was asked to sign (or so the legend goes),
a band of them murdered General Wiley Thompson, Indian agent,
and his lieutenant as they walked outside Fort King, near the
present Ocala. The same day another band under Chief Alligator
surprised a detachment of United States troops under the com-
mand of Major Francis L. Dade. Only 4 of the 110 soldiers of
Dade's command survived the battle and the massacre that
followed, now famous in Florida annals as the Dade Massacre.
Today two counties of Florida recall this double blow of the Semi-
noles-one of them named for the storied Osceola and the other
for the ill-fated Dade. DADE COUNTY was established on February 4,
1836, little more than a month after Dade fell, but it was not until
1887, when time had glamourized the noble enemy, that the name
of OSCEOLA COUNTY was given to Florida's forty-first county.
As far as the county names of Florida are concerned, those
now under discussion have no meaning except as a reminder of the
men for whom they are called and the part those men played in the
history of Florida. Thus the name of Osceola County means only

that Florida remembers an Indian leader who wove a bloody
thread into the fabric of the state's history, and this is quite
enough. The meaning of Osceola's name itself is hardly relevant,
but because of the interest in Indian name meanings, we yield
to the tendency to explain them. Many persons believe that Osceola
means "the rising sun," and indeed one authority states this mean-
ing as a fact, saying that Asseola was doubtless the original and
true name, that asse or hasse in the Seminole tongue means "the
sun," and that this with the affix ola or ho-ho-lar would mean
"the rising sun." However, the weight of written authority, from
1837 on, indicates that Osceola, "or Asi-yahola," is derived from
the Creek asi ("leaves"), specifically referring to the leaves of the
yaupon (Ilex vomitoria), from which the "black drink" was pre-
pared, and yaholo ("singer"), alluding to the cry uttered by the
serving attendant when this beverage was being ceremonially
distributed. Thus "Singer at the Black Drink" (had Osceola per-
formed this function at tribal rituals?) appears to be the correct
interpretation-and one every bit as interesting to the white
man's ear as "Rising Sun."
Osceola was not a chief, but he was a natural and powerful
leader-considered the most important Seminole warrior of the
time. His mother was a Creek of the Red Stick tribe; his father
was rumored to be an English trader named Powell, but the artist
George Catlin, who painted Osceola during his imprisonment at
Fort Moultrie, believed he was a full-blooded Indian. The Fort
Moultrie imprisonment came at the end of the Seminole hero's life.
He had been seized, with seventy warriors, near St. Augustine, in
October 1837, and-though they say he came bearing the white flag
of peace-was sent to Fort Moultrie at Charleston, South Carolina,
where he died the following January. His grave there is marked

Patriot and Warrior
Jan. 30th, 1838.

A number of attempts have been made to obtain transfer of his
remains to Florida. In 1950 the Florida Legislature petitioned
South Carolina to exhume the body and return Osceola to his
native state, but South Carolina refused. The next year Florida

tried to take its case to President Harry S. Truman, and then
appealed to the United Nations, on the ground that the Seminoles,
having never surrendered to the United States, were a separate
nation. In this appeal the Seminole Nation joined the state of
Florida. But South Carolina won every legal skirmish. In October
of 1976 a less legal sort of attempt was in the news, when an Asso-
ciated Press story reported that a "welded-shut steel box" sup-
posedly containing the bones of Osceola had been presented to the
Ocala (Florida) Chamber of Commerce by officials of Context
Development Corporation, owner of nearby Rainbow Springs. The
steel box had been delivered to Context, according to the report,
by Miamian Otis Shriver, who claimed he had stolen its contents
from the chiefs grave at Fort Moultrie in 1966. But to still the
alarm aroused by rumors of the 1966 grave robbery, the National
Parks Service had excavated the South Carolina grave in 1968
and found a skeleton which it proclaimed to be the body of Osceola;
and the skeleton, accepted as the remains of his ancestor by Joe
Dan Osceola, great-great-grandson of the warrior chief, had been
reinterred in the same grave. Shriver scoffed. At any rate, legal
difficulties have persuaded the Ocala Chamber of Commerce to
return the steel box to Context without either opening or X-raying
it. No further information has been released.
No matter where Osceola's bones lie, his name is prominent on
Florida's map, where one county, at least two villages, and a
national forest bear it. A monument to him near Ocala stands on
the site where the Seminoles held council with territorial officers.
But his greatest monument is the name of Osceola County-and a
fine and tragic figure he makes in that gathering we imagine as
the county names are called.
Other memories of the Seminole Wars are preserved in the
county names Gadsden, Putnam, and Taylor. James Gadsden, as
aide-de-camp to General Jackson, took part in the 1818 campaign
against the Seminoles, and Florida named GADSDEN COUNTY, her
fifth county, for him in 1823, before he achieved prominence as
an American diplomat and before he played his role in events
leading to the Second Seminole War. This role was the negotiation
of the Treaty of Payne's Landing, by which Indian chiefs, signing
near Ocala in 1832, agreed to examine the lands proposed for them
west of the Mississippi and, if satisfied, to emigrate to them with
their people. In 1849, Florida gave the name of PUTNAM to her
twenty-eighth county, to honor Benjamin A. Putnam, a promi-

nent St. Augustine lawyer who had been an officer in the Second
Seminole War-or so one story goes. Others say that it is General
Israel Putnam who is honored-a man who was one of the great
American commanders in the Revolutionary War, having left
his plowing when he heard news of the battle of Lexington. The
last Seminole War hero commemorated in the roll call of Florida
county names is Zachary Taylor, who defeated the Indians in the
decisive battle of Okeechobee and received the brevet of brigadier
general and, in 1838, the chief command of Florida. He was, of
course, subsequently president of the United States (1849-50),
and it was on December 23, 1856, that TAYLOR COUNTY was esta-
blished and named in his honor.
SEMINOLE COUNTY recognizes with its name the entire nation of
Indians who played so dramatic a role in the territorial history
of Florida and who still today are a part of her culture. The immi-
grant tribes who began to come to Florida in the early eighteenth
century formed the great Seminole Nation, which eventually
absorbed the remnants, if any, of the native tribes. The Seminoles
are chiefly Creek and Hitchiti in origin, with Creek predominat-
ing, so that most Indian place-names of Florida are traceable to
the Creek language. The Seminoles' name is thought to mean "wild
men" or "separatists" (corrupted from Creek Ishti semoli, "wild
men"); they were so called because they were runaways from their
own tribes. (The Creeks are said to have first applied the name to
those Oconee who settled in Alachua territory rather than return
to the Lower Creeks after they assisted Oglethorpe in his 1740
attack on St. Augustine.) It has also been suggested that Seminole
is an Indian corruption of the Spanish word cimarron, which
means "wild" or "unruly" and was applied to runaway slaves or
beasts. (The Seminoles have no "r" sound in their language and
usually substituted the "1" sound. This substitution, plus metathe-
sis, would account for the corruption, but perhaps most authori-
ties incline to the first theory-i.e., the Creek origin.) In any case,
Seminole County was created and named for these Indians in 1913.

But people other than Indians and Indian fighters were involved
in Florida's territorial years. Some of these others who were im-
portant to Florida's history during that period are remembered,
too, in the county names.

MONROE COUNTY was named for James Monroe, who was presi-
dent of the United States when Spain ceded to her the Floridas and
an outlet to the Pacific in return for recognition of the Texas
boundary and the payment of $5 million to American citizens
for claims against Spain. Official transfer of the Floridas had not
taken place, but the treaty had been ratified when Monroe began
his second term as president in 1821; and Florida was an impor-
tant theme of his inaugural address. "To the acquisition of Florida
too much importance cannot be attached," he said. "It secures
to the United States a territory important in itself, and whose im-
portance is much increased by its bearing on many of the highest
interests of the Union. It opens to several of the neighboring
states a free passage to the ocean. . It secures us against all
future annoyance from powerful Indian tribes. It gives us several
excellent harbors in the Gulf of Mexico for ships of war of the
largest size. It covers by its position in the Gulf the Mississippi and
other great waters within our extended limits and thereby enables
the United States to afford complete protection to the vast and
very valuable productions of our whole Western country, which
finds a market through these streams." The county named in Presi-
dent Monroe's honor was created three years later, while he was still
in office.
In the same year, WALTON COUNTY was established and named
for Colonel George Walton, who at that time was serving as secre-
tary of the territory of Florida. He had, at the time of Florida's
acquisition by the United States, been an aide to General Jackson
and had served as secretary of West Florida. When Jackson re-
signed his commission as military governor in 1821 and returned
to Tennessee, Walton remained to govern West Florida until the
expiration of Jackson's nominal term in June of 1822 and then,
under Florida's first civil governor, William P. DuVal, acted as
secretary of the entire territory until 1826. Colonel Walton was the
son of another George Walton, who had been governor of Georgia
and a signer of the Declaration of Independence-and he was the
father of a daughter called Octavia, who is credited with naming
Tallahassee, established as Florida's capital in 1824.
Later in the territorial period, before the Seminole wars were
settled, another great American gave his name to a Florida county.
John C. Calhoun, United States senator from South Carolina and
former vice-president of the nation, then at the height of his popu-
larity as the champion of the doctrine of states' rights, was honored

when CALHOUN COUNTY was created on January 26, 1838. This
naming was prophetic of Florida's position in the great civil strug-
gle that was to come, for John C. Calhoun, who died in 1850, was a
prime mover of the forces which Florida, under statehood, joined.
He died fighting Henry Clay's slavery compromise of 1850.
That was Florida's next step through history: a step into state-
hood. The first day of her statehood was the first day of the admin-
istration of James K. Polk as president of the United States, and
Florida's thirty-ninth county-POLK COUNTY-remembers him.
Strangely, Florida does not honor with any name the president
who signed the bill for her admission on the last day of his term-
President John Tyler.
Though Polk County did not come into being until 1861 and its
naming was retrospective, the naming of LEVY COUNTY to honor
David Levy Yulee, territorial delegate to Congress from Florida
(1841-45) and United States senator from Florida at the begin-
ning of her statehood, was a quick and spontaneous recognition
of a man who meant much to the young state and who would mean
much more, for his service to Florida had just begun. Levy County
was formed and named on March 10, 1845, seven days after
Florida's admission had climaxed the long debate in which David
Levy Yulee, as David Levy, had participated so actively. Levy
added Yulee, his grandfather's name, which his father had
dropped in favor of Levy, to his own in 1845, and other places and
buildings in Florida have since been given that name to honor
him; but the name of Levy County is Florida's first salute to her
first senator. More than that, it stands as justification of a dream
cherished by Moses Levy, David's father, who, five centuries after
his ancestors had been expelled from the Hispanic peninsula be-
cause they were Jews, raced by ship from Charleston to East
Florida in 1821 to be there when Spain transferred the territory
to the United States, for he had learned that all who were there
on the day of transfer would, ipso facto, become American citi-
zens. He lost his race because his ship was becalmed, but in recog-
nition of his intention, expressed a year before in Philadelphia,
to change his nationality, he was given a certificate of citizenship
on March 23, 1822. Later, when the legality of the certificate was
questioned, he was issued a second one in 1831. When David-a
minor at the time of the first certificate and so automatically
sharing in its effect, but a man of twenty-two at the time of the
second and thus unaffected by it-sought to represent the terri-

tory of Florida in Congress in 1841, the question of his citizenship
became an issue, an issue decided in his favor. So the handsome
and brilliant David Levy, later David Levy Yulee, descendant of
Jews who had wandered the world in search of sanctuary, wove
the scarlet and somber threads of Hebraic story into the Florida
tapestry. He lived out his life as servant and developer of the state,
and it is altogether fitting that Levy County on Florida's map
should pay tribute to him.
Another county, renamed in 1855, honors a distinguished North
Carolinian who came to Florida two years after statehood and
entered actively into her government. Theodore W. Brevard
served as comptroller of Florida from 1853 to 1861, and the county
then named St. Lucie was renamed BREVARD COUNTY in his honor.
A statesman rather curiously represented in Florida county
names is Henry Clay, whose connection with the state's history was
such that it could almost be said that Florida honored him in spite
of it rather than because of it. Clay was arch-enemy of Andrew
Jackson and led a movement in the United States House of Repre-
sentatives to censure the general for his campaign against the
Seminoles in 1818. In other ways as well he opposed Andrew
Jackson all his life. Further, Clay's famous slavery compromise
of 1850, though it postponed the conflict, in the long run worked
against the interests of the slave-holding South and brought on the
bloody war at the end of which Florida shared the bitterness of
defeat with her neighbors. But in 1858, this end was not known,
and in that year Henry Clay, the Great Compromiser, was recog-
nized in the South-whose interests he had ignored in tariff mat-
ters as well-by having CLAY COUNTY named for him.
More likely candidates for Florida names were James McNair
Baker, Robert E. Lee, and Richard Bradford. Baker, Lee, and
Bradford counties remember these three men, who were citizens
of the Confederate States of America, under whose flag Florida
fought. Florida was the third state to secede from the Union, and
her capital was the only one never taken by federal forces. So, in
the naming of her counties, Floridians did not forget the men who
championed the lost Confederate cause. BAKER COUNTY, named in
1861, honors the man who served first as Judge of the Fourth Judi-
cial District of Florida and then as Confederate States senator
from Florida; LEE COUNTY, created in 1887, commemorates the
commander-in-chief of all the Confederate forces; and BRADFORD
COUNTY, renamed on December 6, 1861, stands as a monument

to the first Florida officer killed in the Civil War. Captain Richard
Bradford fell in the battle of Santa Rosa Island on October 9, 1861,
and his state did not long delay in honoring his memory. The
county which bears his name had been established three years ear-
lier with the name of New River County, but embattled Floridians
found it sweet and fitting in the bitter days of 1861 to give it a
hero's name instead. These three counties-Baker, Lee, and Brad-
ford-tell the story of a lost cause and of a fifth flag which flew over
Florida for a little while.
The story of Reconstruction is forgotten in Florida county
names. One name remembers, however, the time when Florida
had emerged from the long ordeal and was gathering the reins
of statehood into her hands once more. PASCO COUNTY, created on
June 2, 1887, was named for Samuel Pasco of Monticello, at that
time speaker of the Florida House of Representatives and later
United States senator from Florida. Pasco had served as chair-
man of the Florida Constitutional Convention of 1885, which re-
vised the "carpetbag" constitution of 1868 so as to give the state
government back to the people.

In the story of a state, more than heroes and statesmen and more
than military and political affairs leave their imprint upon the
land. There are always the "settlers"-the men who came there
to live and who, by virtue of living and prospering there, are a part
of the fiber which makes the state strong. Often, place-names
remember such men, as do the names of some Florida counties-
those of Hendry and Holmes counties certainly, and possibly
that of Volusia County.
HENDRY COUNTY was named in 1923 for Captain Francis Asbury
Hendry, a pre-Civil War state legislator and Confederate cap-
tain, who built up a colossal South Florida cattle empire in the
post-Civil War decades. Captain Hendry settled in Fort Myers
in 1868, established contacts with the Cuban market, and devel-
oped ranges south of the Caloosahatchee River, where cattle had
never grazed before. He built wharves and pens, and as early as
1876 had fenced in a tract of 25,000 acres where he planned to im-
prove the grasses for fattening stock for market. Other cattle-
men exceeded his efforts later, but Hendry was the first pioneer
cattle king in Florida. The cattle industry not only has become a

source of wealth and prosperity for Florida, but long ago it fur-
nished the name "Crackers," which native Floridians are often
called. The name was suggested, it is said, by the skill with which
early Florida cowboys cracked their long whips when they
rounded up the cattle. Hendry had come to Florida before the Civil
War, had served in both the higher and the lower branches of the
state legislature, and had voted against secession, but, when over-
ruled by the majority, had accepted a captain's commission and
served the Confederacy throughout the war. Despite these early
activities, it was as a pioneer cattle king that Floridians chose to
honor him when they named Hendry County. The name of Hendry
County fittingly honors a man so significantly connected with the
development, history, and folklore of the state.
HOLMES COUNTY was created and named much earlier-on Janu-
ary 8, 1848. It was named for Holmes Creek, the county's eastern
boundary, which in turn was named for Holmes Valley, which
received its name, according to most opinions, from Thomas J.
Holmes, who settled in that vicinity from North Carolina about
1830 or 1834, and who shared, however obscurely, in the early
history of American Florida. Little is known about this man, and
it seems more by chance than by design that he is honored by a
Florida county name. But others say that Holmes Valley got its
name from a half-breed Indian who fell victim to one of Andrew
Jackson's raids in 1818, and indeed there is evidence of the exis-
tence of an Indian with such a name in that very area. Whoever
Holmes may be, he seems destined to sit in the shadow of Florida's
The same is true of the mysterious Mr. Volus or M. Veluche who,
it is said, was honored when VOLUSIA COUNTY was named in 1854.
Apparently, the origin of the name rests on tradition alone, and
all that is certain now is that the county was named for Volusia
Landing-a settlement within its limits on the St. Johns River,
near Lake George-presumably because the name was pleasing
to the ear. According to tradition, Volusia Landing was named for
an early settler. The WPA unpublished study quotes the Magazine
of History for August 1908 as saying that the place was named for
"one Volus, an English settler." Pleasant Daniel Gold, a local his-
torian, reveals the tradition that a Frenchman or Belgian named
Veluche ("pronounced 'Voolooshay,' says Gold) owned a trading
post there at one time. However, Gold points out that there is no
record either in the Spanish, territorial, or county titles of any land

being owned at any time in that vicinity or anywhere in the county
under the name Veluche or any name resembling it. The name
Volusia is mentioned first in history when Governor Richard Keith
Call made the landing his headquarters in his campaign against
the Seminoles in 1836. Today a road sign reading "Volusia" stands
on the Volusia County side of the St. Johns River opposite Lake
County's Astor. The occasional assumption that Volusia is an
Indian name is very doubtful, since the letter v is rare in tran-
scriptions of words from any Indian tongue, and no extant compi-
lation of Florida Indian words and names contains the word
Volusia or any other word beginning with the v sound. The weight
of evidence, if evidence it can be called, supports the placing of
Volusia among those county names which presumably remember
early settlers.
Looming large in the Florida story are the developers-the
millionaires who poured their dollars into carving civilization out
of jungle in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries.
Despite its distinction as the state earliest settled, Florida long
remained a wilderness through vast stretches of the peninsula.
Population centered in the northern part, where reclamation and
trailblazing were relatively unnecessary. Poor transportation
facilities, brought about by the trackless Everglades and the gen-
erally difficult topography, had prevented full penetration and
settlement of Florida as a whole. After the Civil War, the collapse
and disorganization of the state's program of internal improve-
ment intensified the problem. Government demoralization and
impoverishment brought on by the Civil War left development
necessarily in the hands of private entrepreneurs. The state's sale
of four million acres of land to Philadelphia capitalist Hamilton
Disston in 1881 opened the doors. Though Disston's reclamation
ventures were not financially successful, they made it possible for
other capitalists to profit by his beginning.
The greatest of all the developers in the imagination of most
Floridians is Henry Morrison Flagler, the man who, as one his-
torian has pointed out, lived two lives successively in the span of
years in which most men live one. The first life he devoted to amass-
ing an enormous fortune; the second he dedicated to the spend-
ing of that fortune to create a new world in the wilds of subtropi-
cal Florida. Other capitalists invested in Florida for their own
profit; Flagler, it is said, was pursuing an ideal. His string of pala-
tial hotels from St. Augustine to Palm Beach, his railroad system

spanning the entire eastern coast of the peninsula, and his crown-
ing achievement-the unbelievable overseas railway from the toe
of the peninsula to Key West-are as romantic as any part of the
Florida story. Though Flagler's overseas railroad was later lost in
a tropical hurricane and has now been replaced by an overseas
highway, it blazed a daring trail through heartbreaking hard-
ships; and a year and four months before he died on May 20, 1913,
his dreams were made real when he rode into Key West in his
private railway car. Florida remembers Flagler in many ways in
her place-names; one of these is the name of FLAGLER COUNTY,
created in 1917.
COLLIER COUNTY, created in 1923, is another county named for
a developer. Barron G. Collier, a large-scale landowner in the region
and a former Tennesseean, had become wealthy in the advertising
brokerage business and invested his money in Florida develop-
ment. Collier's investments came later than Flagler's; and though
they were not such idealistic or uncharted adventures as Flagler's,
they were significant in opening up the undeveloped areas of the


Four counties bear the names of men who have served as gover-
nors of the state during the twentieth century-Broward, Gil-
christ, Hardee, and Martin. BROWARD COUNTY-named for Napo-
leon Bonaparte Broward, governor from 1905 to 1909-was created
in 1915. It commemorates one of the most colorful political figures
Florida has had, as well as one of the most influential. Broward
was a native Floridian, born of humble parents in Duval County
in 1857, and grew up under almost unbelievable hardships during
Reconstruction years. Orphaned before he was twelve, he held one
odd job after another until in manhood he became a joint owner of
steamboats plying, with passengers and mail, between Mayport
and Palatka. He served as sheriff of Duval County and later as a
member of the state legislature. In 1896, for profit as well as a
romantic desire to aid the cause of human freedom, he became
captain of the Three Friends, the famous filibustering steamer
which ran the blockade to Cuba with arms and munitions for the
Cuban insurgents. To save the primary election law and to safe-
guard the freedom of Florida's people to govern themselves, he
announced his candidacy for the governorship of Florida and won

in 1904. So influential and beneficial was Broward as governor of
Florida that the years of his administration and those following,
when his policies were continued, have become known in Florida
annals as "the Broward era." It is noted for the reforming of the
educational systems of the state, both higher and lower, and for
the beginning of the gigantic task of draining the Everglades.
For these two accomplishments and more, Florida honors Napo-
leon Bonaparte Broward, native son, who gave her tremendous im-
petus toward status and maturity among the states. The name of
Broward County stands as partial recognition of his contribu-
tion. Broward died in 1910, just after his election as United States
senator from Florida, and did not live to know of this gesture of
Albert W. Gilchrist followed Broward as governor. He served
from 1909 to 1913. He was not a Broward supporter, but none-
theless "Browardism" continued during his administration; recla-
mation of the Everglades proceeded, and there was little change
in state policy under Gilchrist. It was during his term that the
commission form of government for towns and cities was intro-
duced into the body of state laws. In 1925, a year before his death,
a new Florida county was created and named GILCHRIST COUNTY
in his honor.
HARDEE COUNTY was created in 1921, when Cary A. Hardee
was governor of Florida. It was, as so many other counties have
been, created by the splitting of another county, De Soto, which
was divided into five counties. Agitation in favor of division of the
tremendous county had been going on since the early twentieth
century, and it was intended that the portion now forming Hardee
County should be named Seminole. But long before the division
controversy could be settled another Florida county had been
given that name. Other names were suggested, such as Cherokee
(apparently for its picturesqueness as an Indian word), Goolsby
(for a pioneer resident), and Wauchula (the name of the town
that became the county seat). But when the division act was
finally introduced, the name of the current governor was chosen.
Cary Hardee, another native son, lived thirty-seven years to enjoy
the honor accorded him. He died in 1958 at Live Oak in Suwannee
County, where he was a lawyer and a bank president.
Succeeding Cary Hardee as governor was John W. Martin, a
native of Marion County. Martin's inauguration year, 1925, was
the year when the fabulous Florida land boom, which had been

gathering momentum since the reclamation of the Everglades
began, peaked and exploded, plunging Florida into depression
four years ahead of the rest of the nation. In the last year of his
administration occurred the most disastrous of a series of trop-
ical hurricanes that had harassed southern Florida for six
years. This one laid waste the heart of the vegetable kingdom
around Lake Okeechobee and drowned about 2,400 people. It
drowned, also, the seemingly endless bickering about flood control
which had occupied so much of Martin's energy; and his successor,
Doyle G. Carleton, was able to accomplish, with federal aid, what
Martin had sought in vain to achieve-the control of the water
level of Lake Okeechobee. Martin's heartbreaking administra-
tion is commemorated in the name of MARTIN COUNTY, established
in 1925.
Martin County was the last of the county names commemorating
people. Whether there will be others we cannot know. Article VIII,
Section 1, of the Constitution of Florida provides that "counties
may be created, abolished or changed by law"; and there is, of
course, always the possibility that a county name will be changed,
as has happened in the past; but after all these years we may with
some safety assume that the naming is ended. The men-and the
queen-who are remembered in Florida's county names tell a
story more than four hundred years long-of discovery and explo-
ration in a new world, of wars and heartbreaking hardships, of
peace and prosperity, of confusion and purpose, of ideals and
realities, of Florida under five flags.


The names of places may commemorate things other than men
and women. Three county names of Florida commemorate directly
the ideas and ideals of their founders. LIBERTY COUNTY was created
in 1855, when Florida was still in the pride of her early state-
hood, and in 1921 UNION COUNTY was established, adding another
primary American ideal to Florida's place-name roster. But as if
to remind men of other dreams that she had fought for, Florida
also named DIXIE COUNTY that year-a name that suggests all
that the South stood for in its struggle against the North. Thus
Florida county names commemorate national and regional ideals
as well as the people who upheld those ideals.
Place-names often commemorate other places too, as does the

name of Florida's NASSAU COUNTY. Actually, the county, created
in 1824, was named for the Nassau River, which had been so
named by the British during their occupation of Florida. Many
emigrants from the Bahamas came to this section during the
British occupation, and it is reasonable to assume that they named
the Nassau River after the principal town of the Bahamas. The
names of Nassau Sound and the town of Nassauville also remained
from that period, and when the county was created, the name came
naturally as a local tradition. In its ultimate commemoration
of the British Nassau, it also commemorates the English era in
Florida's history.


The story that Florida's county names tell is not merely a narrative
of events in her history and of people who took part in those events;
in the names of her counties, one can find an amazingly detailed
description of the state as well. They tell us something of her flora
and fauna and indirectly reveal her climate and other natural
The county with the oldest of these descriptive names is
PINELLAS COUNTY. According to tradition, the name Pinellas was
inherited from the early Spanish explorers, who called the penin-
sula which forms the county Punta Pinal, meaning "pine grove
point." Pinal is the obsolete form of modern pinar, meaning
"grove of pines." The steps by which Pinellas evolved from this
beginning are not definitely known, but it is easy to construct more
than one plausible explanation. The plural of pinal is pinales,
which, considering the vagaries of those who wrote names on the
map as flags over Florida changed, is a natural basis for the
change to Pinellas by two routes: mispronunciation and consequent
misspelling, or misspelling and consequent mispronunciation. The
name which is the immediate ancestor of Pinellas County seems to
be Point Pinellas, which was written on maps to designate a place on
the tip of the peninsula, sometimes shown simply as Pinellas, before
the county was created in 1911. The pine is a prominent tree in
Florida, and it is appropriate that one of the state's major place-
names should publish that fact.
Another tree of Florida that is even more symbolic of the state
to many people is the palm. A descriptive county name which
recognizes this fact is that of PALM BEACH COUNTY, which equally

well reveals Florida as a place of beaches. The county was named
for the city of Palm Beach, which existed before the county's
creation in 1909, and was, of course, a name descriptive of the
To show how significant the orange and its relatives are in
Florida, the state has two counties named for the citrus trees
which abundantly grow there-ORANGE COUNTY, so named in
1845, and CITRUS COUNTY, established in 1887.
The recognition of the pine, the palm, and the orange in place-
names of such major importance is very fitting, for these trees
have been some of Florida's greatest treasures. Evidence of the
state's regard for them is also seen in the large number of other
place-names derived from them, to be discussed later.
The sole representative of Florida's fauna among her county
names is that of MANATEE COUNTY. This county, created in 1855,
was named for the manatee, or sea cow, which is found in the
waters off the county's coast, as well as elsewhere in Florida's
coastal waters. Perhaps it is appropriate that the manatee is the
only Florida animal among the county names (though some might
choose the alligator), for it is said that the manatee is found
nowhere else in the United States. The name is from the Spanish
manati, meaning "sea cow."
The hints in the flora and fauna descriptive names that Florida
is a place of many waters are confirmed in the names of six
counties that tell of waters both fresh and salt. GULF COUNTY,
created in 1925, was so named because it borders on the Gulf of
Mexico. BAY COUNTY, named in 1913, borders on St. Andrews Bay,
for which it was named. INDIAN RIVER COUNTY, which was esta-
blished in 1925, received its name from the Indian River (actually
a coastal lagoon), which lies along its edge. In 1887, LAKE COUNTY
was created and named for the many lakes within its borders.
OKEECHOBEE COUNTY, created in 1917, was named for Lake
Okeechobee, the second largest body of fresh water wholly within
the boundaries of the United States. This name is from the Hitchiti
Indian tongue, composed of oki ("water"), and chubi ("big"). It is
the latest of a series of Indian descriptive names to be attached
to the lake, all of them meaning in various Indian tongues "big
water." The county seat of Okeechobee County is also named
Okeechobee. Another "water" name for a Florida county is
OKALOOSA, which could be from the Choctaw oka ("water"), plus
lusa ("black"), but may be from the Chatot dialect, which was

similar. The name is thought to have referred originally to what is
now the Blackwater River.
Other descriptive county names tell us a little about Florida's
terrain, ALACHUA COUNTY being one of them. When the county was
established in 1824, the designation "Alachua" had already been
attached to the vicinity for a very long time. Maps since 1715
show it in various forms (for example, Allachua, Lachua, Au-lot-
che-wau, A-lach-uh-wuh, and A-lotch-uh-way), and there is some
suggestion that the name is much older than the first map on
which it is recorded and, perhaps, is of Timucuan origin. There is
little agreement about the name's exact source, but most authori-
ties do agree that it refers to the numerous sinkholes in the area.
For example, the following passage in the journal of a Spanish
officer who traversed the region in 1716 states: "I left the said site
and camped at a place they call Aquilachua this day I marched five
leagues. In this day's march, no creeks were encountered but there
are good springs of water, and the first named Usichua, the other
Usiparachua, and another Afanochua." Pointing out that anyone
familiar with the area could not doubt that the springs without
effluent streams were sinkholes, he concludes that the chua which
terminated all of their names might well be the Timucuan name for
"sink." Since the Timucua had been exterminated by 1710, and the
immigrant Creeks did not settle in the area until about 1740, this
theory seems more plausible than the one which suggests that
"Alachua" is a derivative of the Seminole-Creek luchuwa, meaning
"jug," applied by the Indians to a large chasm near the present
Gainesville. For "Allachua" was on a 1715 map, long before the
Creeks were on the spot. In either case, the name describes the
terrain. When Alachua County was created, its naming was a
natural acceptance of a fitting heritage.
Two other Florida county names are of a descriptive nature-
HIGHLANDS COUNTY, created in 1921, which tells in its name of the
area's high lands, and GLADES COUNTY, located in the heart of the
Everglades. The name of Glades County (also created in 1921) is
perhaps the most distinctive descriptive name of all, for it is an
abbreviation of Everglades, a topographical term which was in-
vented in Florida to designate a Florida phenomenon and is used
to describe no other area in the world. Glade has evidently been
used by Americans since 1744 to designate a moist, swampy area.
The earliest known use of Ever Glades was in 1823, in Observations
Upon the Floridas by Charles Blacker Vignoles. Vignoles also used

the terms Eternal Glades, The Glade, The Great Glade-and one
time The Never Glade-all applied to the region of subtropical
lowland, usually flooded with water and covered with tall grass,
which covered mile upon mile of southern Florida and probably was
never penetrated by the white man before the mid-nineteenth
century. Since he used The Never Glade only once and Ever Glades
several times, we may assume that the first term was a misprint and
that the more logical second one was his real choice. It was apparently
formed on the pattern of evergreen, with ever signifying "inter-
minable" or "going on forever," and is today firmly established
and securely attached to Florida. So the name of Glades County is
uniquely Floridian as a shortened form of an exclusively Floridian
topographical term.


Place-names grow out of the cultural background of the namers
and often tell of their religion, their literary tastes, their humor,
and their folklore. The county names of Florida are principally
commemorative or descriptive, but there are three names which
are religious in background. All three of them tell of the religion
of the first white settlers of Florida-the Roman Catholic Span-
iards, who habitually took place-names from the saints' calendar.
ST. JOHNS COUNTY was one of the first two counties established in
Florida, ordered by Andrew Jackson immediately after the
delivery of Florida to the United States in 1821. The name he gave
it was already well established in Florida, having earlier been
bestowed by the Spanish upon the St. Johns River (they called it
Rio de San Juan, of course, and the English had translated the
name into their own language) after a mission on its banks named
for St. John the Baptist. SANTA ROSA COUNTY was named in 1842
for Santa Rosa Island, named by the Spanish for Santa Rosa of
Viterbo, Italy, saint of the Roman Catholic Church. The name of
the village of Santa Rosa is also a part of this name cluster. ST.
LUCIE COUNTY bears a name which ultimately honors St. Lucy of
Syracuse (Spanish Santa Lucia); it was first bestowed in Florida by
the Spaniards in 1565, when they built a fort by the name of Santa
Lucia near Cape Canaveral. The name was associated with several
natural features and was part of the Florida heritage when it was
bestowed, in its English form, upon a county created in 1844. It
lasted there only until 1855, when the land it designated became

Brevard County instead, but in 1905 the large area was sub-
divided, and one piece of it became the present St. Lucie County.
Some of the place-names of Florida are such an ancient inheri-
tance that their original significance is lost. Even of some of the
county names, all of which have been assigned since 1821, this is
true. For several counties of Florida were given names that had
lingered upon natural features within their boundaries for hun-
dreds of years. One of these names is that of ESCAMBIA COUNTY,
which was named by Andrew Jackson when he proclaimed the
first two counties. He named it from the Escambia River (shown
as "River Escambe" on the Romans map of 1774 and as "River
Scambia" on the Gauld Chart of 1780), but how the river was
named nobody knows. Attempts have been made to connect it with
the Spanish cambiar ("to exchange"), on the theory that it may
have been applied to a trading or bartering place, but this is pure
conjecture, and the chances are that it is derived from a name in
one of the lost Indian dialects. San Cosmo y San Damian de
Escambe (or Scambe) was an Indian village in Apalachee during
the mission period. It is probable that the prefixed e in Escambia
and some of its earlier forms resulted from the Spanish pronun-
ciation of the initial letter s as "es" when it precedes a consonant.
(Note the Spanish espiritu for spirit, espiral for spiral, esposa for
spouse, esfera for sphere, escriba for scribe, esbelto for svelte, etc.)
Escambia Bay is a part of this name cluster too, and there is a
small settlement named Escambia within the county (established
about 1884).
The name of WAKULLA COUNTY is another of the names whose
original meaning is lost. The name was given to the county when
it was created in 1843, but Wakulla had already been applied to
the Wakulla River, Wakulla Springs, and perhaps to the village
of Wakulla (though Wakulla Beach probably came into existence
later). Although the origin of the name is a mystery, there is no
justification for the popular belief that the word itself means
"mystery." Wakulla is a corruption of Guacara, which was the
Spanish phonetic spelling of an aboriginal Indian name. Wakulla
developed because of the later Seminoles' pronunciation of Gua-
cara, Spanish gua being equivalent to Creek wa and cara being
pronounced kala by the Creeks because they have no r sound in
their language-thus Wakala. The name was probably a Timu-
cuan word in the beginning, and perhaps its meaning will never
be known. Kala signified a "spring of water" in some Indian dia-

lects, but whether it meant that in the tongue of the lost Florida
aborigines we cannot say. A mission called San Juan de Guacara
was situated on the bank of the Suwannee River during the seven-
teenth century, and both the Suwannee and the Wakulla are
characterized by large springs. Similarities between Wakulla and
Ocala, both as names and as places, should also be noted.
The third mystery name-that of SUWANNEE COUNTY-may have
come from the name of the Spanish mission mentioned above: San
Juan de Guacara. The county was named in 1858 for the Suwannee
River, which flows through it on its way to the Gulf of Mexico, and
the name has been used extensively in Florida (for example, there
are the villages of Suwannee within Suwannee County and
Suwannee Valley in Columbia County, as well as other places and
features bearing the name). Many meanings have been imagined
for it, and the folk have even invented an Indian princess to be the
river's namesake, but a more convincing conjecture rests on the
name of the Spanish mission. Captain Bernard Romans' map of
1774 shows the river as "River St. Juan de Guacara vulgo [i.e.,
commonly called] little Seguana," and there is convincing logic in
the theory that Seguana is a Spanish transliteration of an Indian
attempt to pronounce San Juan, with the "wa" sound spelled gua,
as we should expect. It is easy to see how Suwannee might have
grown from this beginning. There is a Seguana (or perhaps it is
Sequana) on the sixteenth-century Le Moyne map of Florida,
apparently labelling a river flowing into the Atlantic Ocean (not
the Gulf of Mexico). Could this be the St. Johns River (Rio de San
Juan)? The "San Juan equals Seguana equals Suwannee" theory, es-
poused by more than one respectable cartographer and/or historian
since the eighteenth century, is countered by another theory which
seems equally convincing to some: There is a village named Suwan-
nee in Gwinnett County, Georgia, which stands on the site of a former
Cherokee town called Suwani. The Cherokees claim that the name
of their town was of Creek origin. If this is true, the derivation
of Suwannee must be from the Creek suwani, meaning "echo." And
good echoes are indeed a feature of the high-banked Suwannee.
But the matter is not settled-and Suwannee remains one of
Florida's mystery names.
The name of SARASOTA COUNTY, given in 1921, is the most
mysterious of all. It is probably a Calusa Indian name, though
Spanish derivations have been attempted and a Spanish lady
named "Sara de Sota" has been invented for a namesake, but no

meaning for it has ever been established. It is an old name, having
designated part of the shore line in the area for a long time; and
astonishing variations on the name appeared on maps published
during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries-Puerto de Saxasote,
Porte Sarasota, Boca Sarasota, Sara Zota, Port Sarasote, Boca
Quarasote, and Sarazola being but a few. It had long become fixed
as Sarasota for Sarasota Bay by the time the county was named.
The town of Sarasota, now the county seat, had been established
around 1880, growing out of a settlement begun by William
Whitaker in 1843, across the bay from an abandoned fishing camp
and Indian trading station which had been called Saraxola when
Whitaker arrived in the area.
And so in the sixty-seven county names and the name of the
state itself much of the history of Florida can be read. In them one
sees something of the kind of place she is. Through them, also, one
learns a little about the culture of the earliest white settlers and
finds that she has a distant past he can scarcely hope to penetrate.
In the following pages many other place-names of Florida will be
called on to fill in details of the story and the picture discovered
through these sixty-eight names.


Florida Remembers

THE COMMEMORATIVE IMPULSE of man is nowhere more apparent
than it is in the names he bestows. To perpetuate the memory of
people, ideas and ideals, events, and places is one of the prime
forces behind the selection of names everywhere. The Florida
place-names which sprang from the commemorative impulse are a
large part of the total number, as the state name and its county
names have already indicated.
The practice of naming places after people is an ancient and honor-
able one. Sometimes such names are given in a conscious attempt
to do honor to great persons and incidentally to reflect glory upon
the places named. Sometimes they are bestowed by people who
seek to perpetuate their own names, sometimes by those who wish
to make a gesture of affection to a spouse or child or friend, some-
times by citizens who want to thank a community leader or devel-
oper. Sometimes personal names are even accidentally given to
places; they attach themselves, without plan or design, to an area
or a settlement because a certain man owns the land or runs the
store where settlers meet. Thus the crossroads where Tom Smith
has a general store becomes known as "Tom's" or "Smith's Corner,"
and as a town grows about it the name may linger out of habit,
even after the man himself is gone and forgotten.
Floridians have been liberal practitioners of the commemora-


tive method of naming. The category of places named after people
is the largest of all, with the possible exception of descriptive
names. Literally thousands of places and natural features in
Florida bear the names of men, women, or children, either famous
or obscure. It is probable that some of those about whom we know
nothing have the most interesting stories of all; for, though from
one point of view it may seem that personal place-names are the
least imaginative, it is nonetheless true that such names, when
investigated, reveal a great deal that is colorful and important in
the history of the state and its people.

Because the Spaniards first wrote the name of Florida into history,
it is fitting that they head the parade of men whose names now dot
the map of the state. Already it has been noted that Floridians
have liberally used the name of Juan Ponce de Le6n, the dis-
coverer, to designate natural features, buildings, institutions,
business establishments, and political subdivisions. Some of the
better-known places bearing his name (besides Leon County)
include PONCE DE LEON BAY, off the coast of Monroe County, and
PONCE DE LEON SPRINGS, a large spring in Volusia County which,
legend has it, was visited by Ponce de Le6n himself in 1513.
According to legend, the discoverer and his men were fleeing, with
stolen treasure, from the Indians when they chanced upon this
deep spring, into which they threw the heavy chest of gold and sil-
ver. There it has lain for centuries, though it is claimed that trea-
sure hunters a few years ago almost succeeded in raising it before
it fell into a fissure where it cannot now be seen. The name of Ponce
de Le6n, however, was not given to this site until 1885. It had been
called Garden Springs after its purchase in 1854 by Thomas Stark
of South Carolina "for the consideration of 50 Negro women." The
post office today is called DE LEON SPRINGS. It was originally named
in 1882 for Hernando de Soto, but the United States Post Office
Department (now called the U. S. Postal Service) refused to recog-
nize the name because it was a duplicate. A town established in
Holmes County in 1875, PONCE DE LEON, is named for the Florida
discoverer, and Polk County has a DE LEON SPRINGS.
Hernando de Soto, mentioned earlier, is commemorated by DE
SOTO BEACH in Brevard County, DE SOTO CITY in Highlands County,
FORT DE SOTO in Hillsborough County, and HERNANDO and

HERNANDO JUNCTION in Citrus County. These names are recent,
having been given in the late nineteenth and early twentieth cen-
turies. This predilection for the names of Spanish conquistadores,
who roamed Florida's shores and forests when she offered mystery
and danger, is likewise shown in the name of CORTEZ, a fishing
village in Sarasota Bay in Manatee County, though the colorful
and cruel Hernando Cortez, for whom the village is named, had
no direct connection with the Florida story.
Later Spaniards whose names are on Florida's map include Don
Domingo Fernandez, who received a land grant from Spain in
1785, during the second Spanish period. FERNANDINA BEACH (for-
merly just Fernandina), a town which claims to be the second
oldest settlement in the United States, bears his name. It is on
Amelia Island in Nassau County and is the county seat. On this
island, then called Guale, Menendez, who had founded St. Augus-
tine two years before, built a fort in 1567; and since that time,
according to local tradition, there has been continuous white
settlement. Little is now known about the Don Domingo Fernan-
dez who received this land as a grant in 1785, and some historians
deny that the name of the city honors him. They believe that King
Ferdinand V of Spain-the same Ferdinand after whom Colum-
bus named Cuba in 1492 (for Cuba was Fernandina then)-is the
man commemorated here. There seems to be no evidence to sup-
port this claim, however. The name most likely honors the eigh-
teenth-century Don Domingo.
On Pelican Island, between the Halifax River and the sea, is a
settlement called PONCE PARK (Volusia County). The assumption
is easily made that here once again Floridians have honored the
ubiquitous Juan Ponce de Le6n, but records show a Spanish royal
order of 1790 granting the land on the peninsula to a man named
Antonio Ponce. The place has been known by other names, among
them "Bob's Bluff' (and who Bob was we do not know), but in
1866 a General Babcock, who purchased land there with a settle-
ment in view, named the post office Ponce Park in honor of the
Spanish grantee of 1790.
GONZALEZ, in Escambia County, was established in about 1800
by Don Manuel Gonzalez, another Spaniard of the second occupa-
tion. It was at first "Gonzalia," the name of Don Manuel's ranch,
where Andrew Jackson was once entertained.
An intriguing figure in the procession of Spaniards is Don Fer-
nando de la Maza Arredondo. In 1817, just four years before Spain

ceded the Floridas to the United States, the king of Spain granted
to Don Fernando 289,645 5/7 acres of land in the territory of Ala-
chua. Now every abstract of title to lands in the city of Gainesville
in Alachua County and to much of the land to the south and west
of the city begins with papers concerning that royal grant made in
1817 to "Don Fernando de la Maza Arredondo and Son, Merchants,
of the City of Havana, Island of Cuba." Alachua County's ARRE-
DONDO, a little settlement which was named for him, is now
scarcely a town. It was established in 1890 and stands as the only
place-name to remember him. When the names of Gainesville
streets gave way to numbers in 1950, the only other place-name
reminder of the Spanish don disappeared: ARREDONDO STREET,
which is now Northwest and Southwest Third Street. As late as
1957 the Cuban heirs of Don Fernando de la Maza Arredondo en-
livened the conversations of Alachua County with a threat to lay
claim to their ancestor's lands, but the threat was a nine days'
wonder, and no more has been heard from their attorney. The
little station of Arredondo remains the only public memorial to
this late Spanish grantee.
GOMEZ, in Marion County, commemorates Eusobie N. Gomez,
who received a land grant of 12,000 acres from the king of Spain
in 1815 and about whom we know nothing more than this.
DELESPINE, in Brevard County, preserves the name of another
Spanish grantee about whom nothing is now known but that he
was granted 42,000 acres in this vicinity by the king of Spain.
YNIESTRA, in Escambia County, bears a Spanish name too, but
the family after whom it was named were "Americans"-Span-
iards who cast their fortune with Florida as a United States terri-
tory when His Catholic Majesty's flag no longer waved over
Florida. The town of Yniestra was established about 1840 and
named for the family who owned land and a brickyard there.
YBOR CITY, the Latin quarter of Tampa, in Hillsborough County,
bears the name of another American Spaniard-Vicente Martinez
Ybor. His name was originally Vicente Martinez y Bor, Bor being
the surname of the feminine side of the family, added, according
to Spanish custom, as a courteous distinction to the surname of
the male. The last part of the name was contracted to "Ybor,"
though in Spanish the "y Bor" simply meant "and Bor." "Ybor"
became the name in America of this pioneer cigar manufacturer
who was born in 1820 in Valencia, Spain. He manufactured cigars
in Havana, Cuba, in 1856, and eventually came to the vicinity of

Tampa to escape the revolutionary unrest in Cuba, bringing with
him and attracting to the place many other Cubans of like disposi-
tion. In 1885 he established a town on his property and gave it his
American name. Tampa has grown to encompass Ybor City, but
the place still retains its "foreign" flavor, preserving Spanish
customs and language to so marked a degree that many of its
people speak English with difficulty and some not at all.
PINEDA, in Brevard County, was named in 1891 by a Spaniard of
that name, according to oral report, but there are no records of
him. The place itself is hardly more than a plane beacon light,
a store, and a gas station.
The names of other Spaniards appear randomly on minor topo-
graphic features and sometimes as names of city streets. For ex-
ample, MAURA ROAD in Pensacola commemorates a Spanish family
who received a grant from Spain during the second Spanish occupa-
tion. Descendants of Francisco Maura, who came to America to
claim the grant, still live in Florida, but the Maura grant has
long since been lost to them.
And so the Spaniards in Florida's history-those who found her
first as well as those who became involved with her later-are not
forgotten in the names of her places.

The French regime in Florida was very brief and very disastrous.
The names the French gave to the land were immediately changed
by the Spanish and have, for the most part, been lost. Like the
early Spaniards, the French did not give their personal names to
places, and it was left to later men to honor them in this fashion.
Only one of that sixteenth-century company-the ill-fated Jean
Ribault, who claimed Florida for France in 1562-has been so
honored. In memory of him a stream in Duval County, flowing into
the Trout River, is called the RIBAULT RIVER. Also in Duval County
is the RIBAULT REFUGE STATE PARK. Other Ribault names dot the
area for minor features-a small bay in the mouth of the St. Johns,
a real-estate subdivision, a lake, a street-and a Jacksonville
school bears this Frenchman's name, while a large department
store has named its elegant restaurant for him ("The Ribault
Room"). The name of the Ribault River ("Not Sixmile Creek," says
the U. S. Geographic Board) was adopted by the commissioners
of Duval County on April 1, 1926, and other Ribault names were

even more recently given-appropriately in the area where Jean
Ribault and his Huguenots landed in 1562.
Later Frenchmen commemorated in Florida place-names
include Louis de Buade, Comte de Frontenac, seventeenth-century
French governor of Canada, for whom Canadian settlers named
FRONTENAC, in Brevard County; Marie Joseph Paul Yves Roch
Gilbert du Motier, Marquis de Lafayette, the namesake of LAFA-
YETTE COUNTY; and Prince Achille Murat, nephew of Napoleon,
for whom MURAT JUNCTION, in Taylor County, was named. Murat
came to America in 1821, later married Catherine Willis Gray,
a great-niece of George Washington, and lived in the Tallahassee
area until his death in 1847. He was a director of the Union Bank
at Tallahassee, was later a county judge, and wrote several books
on American customs and government.

When the Indians named places, they usually named them for
something which occurred there or for some feature of the land-
scape. Their purpose, apparently, was simply to identify the places
for themselves; they thought little of honoring persons or of ex-
pressing ideals or of casting glamour upon the places, as white
men often do. Thus the place-names of Florida which commemo-
rate Indian men or Indian tribes were bestowed upon the places
by white men.
The long-gone Timucua Indians, who inhabited Florida when
the white man found it but who had been exterminated by 1710,
are remembered in the name of UCETA, a Hillsborough County
settlement dating only from 1926, but taking its name from that
of a Timucuan chief encountered by de Soto in 1539 in the Indian
village at the head of Tampa Bay, and by Pdnfilo de Narvaez in
1528. Narviez had become enraged at Cacique Uceta ("Ucita,"
as some spell it) for showing insufficient respect to the Spaniards
and had ordered the chiefs nose cut off and had set dogs on his
old mother; so it is small wonder that when de Soto came in 1539
Uceta and his people abandoned their village at the Spaniards'
approach. Uceta would be amazed to find himself a participant in
our imaginary pageant after more than four centuries.
Another Timucuan place-name is that given to TOMOKA CREEK,
in Volusia County. This stream was called the Rio de Timucas by
the Spaniards in the early eighteenth century, for on its banks

lived the last of the few Timucua who survived the English-insti-
gated Creek raids of that time. Tomoka is an English corruption
of their name. TOMOKA STATE PARK, also in Volusia County, com-
memorates these tragic people, too.
TEQUESTA, in Palm Beach County, remembers in its name
another vanished people-the Tekesta or Tequesta Indians who
formerly inhabited the shores of Biscayne Bay, which was once
called Tequesta because of them. A reported TEKESTA near Miami
(which cannot now be located on a state map) was on the site of
a Spanish Jesuit mission abandoned after an Indian massacre
of Jesuits in 1571.
CHACALA, the name of a pond on the southeastern margin of
Payne's Prairie, in Alachua County, is thought to recall the name
of a chief called Chikilli who related a Creek migration legend
to General Oglethorpe in 1735. The spelling "Chichill" on a map
of 1837 suggests this origin. PAYNE'S PRAIRIE itself, a fifty-square-
mile basin south of Gainesville, is usually said to have been named
for an Oconee-Seminole who was chief of the Alachua settlements
in 1812. He was known to the whites, who killed him in that year,
as "King Payne." (It is only fair to say that King Payne has a rival
for this honor, a white man who will be discussed under "Other
Americans" commemorated in Florida place-names.) LITTLE
PAYNE'S CREEK, in Polk County, is also said to take its name from
this chief.
Between Jackson, Holmes, and Washington counties flows
HOLMES CREEK, which gave its name to Holmes County and which
may have been named for a half-breed Red Stick chief whom the
whites called Holmes. He was killed by one of General Jackson's
raiding parties after the general's high-handed occupation of
Pensacola in 1818. Holmes had fled to Florida with his band after
the Treaty of Fort Jackson, and his name appeared on the Wil-
liams map of 1827 for the stream which still bears his name.
BLOUNTSTOWN, county seat of Calhoun County, was named to
honor John Blount, a native chief of the Seminoles who accom-
panied the exploring delegation of Seminoles to the new Indian
territory west of the Mississippi when the band agreed in 1832 to
go there. Blount had been given this Anglo-American name, it is
said, because he had much in common with William Blount,
appointed superintendent of Indian Affairs by President Wash-
ington in 1790.
TIGER TAIL ISLAND, near Homosassa in Citrus County, bears the

name of a Seminole chief called Tiger Tail, who had his tribal
headquarters there. MICCO, established in Brevard County by
Frank Smith in 1877, is more doubtfully named for a particular
Indian chief. The word itself means "chief" in the Creek language,
and it formed a part of the names of several Seminole chiefs,
among them three of the fifteen who signed the Treaty of Payne's
Landing in 1832, agreeing to relinquish their lands in Florida and
emigrate westward to the country of the Creeks: Mico-Noha,
Holat-a-Micco, and Hitch-it-i-Mico.
Other place-names which may or may not have honored indi-
vidual Indians are TUSCAWILLA, designating a railroad station
in Alachua County, and MATTLACHA PASS, a strip of water in Char-
lotte Harbor, off the coast of Lee County. The former is translated
"beloved warrior" if it is corrupted from the Choctaw (Tashka-
Wulla) and "warrior plunderer" if from the Chickasaw (Tashka-
weli), while legend furnishes the inevitable Indian princess, this
one a daughter of Chief Micanopy, as a namesake. The truth of
this matter is not known, but certainly a person seems to be indi-
cated by the name Tuscawilla, which is an old one in the Alachua
territory, having been applied by white men to a lake and to an
adjacent town site occupied by the earliest Seminoles. William
Bartram, who traveled this territory in the late eighteenth cen-
tury, called it Cuscawilla, and Charles Vignoles (1823) called it
Taskawilla. This name, too, changed in 1950 with the renaming
of Gainesville street names, when TUSCAWILLA STREET became
Tenth Avenue.
The "Mattlacha" in Mattlacha Pass may be an Indian corrup-
tion of Matanza, which was the name Ponce de Le6n gave to Pine
Island in 1513 (the pass is just east of Pine Island); but it is more
likely that the name is derived from the Creek imala or emathla,
meaning "leader," and lako or thlako, meaning "big." Some Semi-
nole chiefs used the title "Big Warrior."
A number of Seminole chiefs involved in the long war of 1835-
42 have been remembered in the names of Florida places. Osceola,
for whom a county was named, is further honored by the names of
two Florida villages-OSCEOLA PARK, in Broward County, and
OSCEOLA, in Seminole County. EMATHLA, in Marion County, pre-
serves the memory of Charley Emathla, a signer of the Treaty
of Payne's Landing who was slain by warriors of Osceola in 1835
because of that signing. ARIPEKA, established in Pasco County in
1883, remembers another signer of that treaty, a Miccosukee chief

also known as "Sam Jones the fisherman," whose Indian name
appears in many variations, among them Ar-pi-ucki, Arpeika,
Apiaka, Apeiaka, Appiaca, and the one that falls easiest from
English-speaking tongues, Aripeka. Appropriately, for a place
named after "Sam Jones the fisherman," Aripeka is a fishing
MICANOPY, a village in Alachua County which was the first point
of settlement in the Arredondo grant (in 1817), is named after
Mico-an-opa (also written as Mico-Noha, Mikanope, Micanopy,
and Micanope), nephew and matrilineal successor of King Payne
to the chieftainship of the Alachua Seminoles. The name is really
a title, meaning "head chief" or "chief of chiefs," from Hitchiti
Miko ("chief"), plus Naba ("above"). Before this chief's accession
he was known as Sint-chakke, said to mean "Pond Frequenter."
Micanopy, who was "head chief" at the outbreak of the Seminole
War and who was one of the fifteen signers of the Treaty of Payne's
Landing, presents a rather ludicrous appearance when we hear
the legend that he was so fat and lazy that his warriors carried
him by force to the battle sites. The name Micanopy was given to
the present town in 1834; it had previously been called Wanton,
for Edward M. Wanton, an early settler who was a manager of
Arredondo's land grant. There had been a town by one name or
another on the approximate site for years before the white man
came; it is said to have been the capital of the Timucua Indians
as well as of the later Seminoles, and is on all counts the oldest
settlement in Alachua County. MICANOPY JUNCTION (also in Ala-
chua County) commemorates the same chief who, in contradiction
to the report of his fat laziness, is said to have personally slain
Major Francis L. Dade in the famous 1835 massacre that opened
the long Seminole War.
HICKS' ISLAND, in Lake Tsala Apopka in Citrus County, is named
for the Miccosukee chief Tokose Emathla, another Payne's Land-
ing signer, known to the whites as "John Hicks." Hicks was one-
time head chief of the Seminoles, appointed by Governor DuVal
when the governor deposed Neamathla, who in turn had deposed
Micanopy at the instigation of the whites. But by 1832 Micanopy
had regained the position, and in that year Hicks died.
Holatter Micco ("Alligator Chief"), the famous Billy Bowlegs,
one of the most active of the war-chiefs, is remembered in the
name of BOWLEGS CREEK in Polk County. Columbia County's
TUSTENUGEE perpetuates the memory of the crafty and dangerous

Halpatter Tustenugee, "The Alligator Warrior." He, with Mica-
nopy and Jumper, was a leader of the band who perpetrated the
Dade Massacre. A lake in Putnam County and a station in Pasco
County are called CHIPCO after the Seminole chief Chipco who
fought beside Osceola. And the name of CLOUD LAKE, a man-made
lake excavated by Kenyon Riddle for a real estate development
in Palm Beach County in the 1940s, commemorates the Seminole
chief of the 1840s known as "The Cloud" (Ta-Ho-Loo-Chee or
Yaholochee), who bitterly hated the whites.
In addition to honoring their individual Seminole enemies,
Floridians have sprinkled their map with the names of whole
tribes of Indians who have inhabited the state during its history.
We have already mentioned the ancient Timucua, commemorated
in the names of Tomoka Creek and Tomoka State Park. Other
tribes and clans whose names are attached to Florida places in-
clude the Apalachee people, or the Apalachicola, with whom the
Spanish came in contact in northern Florida in the seventeenth
century. The APALACHICOLA RIVER, a confluence at the state line
of the Flint and Chattahoochee rivers, flows into the Gulf of Mexico
through APALACHICOLA BAY off the coast of Franklin County,
whose county seat was named APALACHICOLA in 1831. APALACHEE
BAY, off Wakulla County, is another reminder of this group of
Lower Creek Indians.
The Chatot were a warlike tribe living west of the Apalachicola
River; and through a confusion of their name with that of the
Choctaw (a distinct though similar tribe), the CHOCTAWHATCHEE
RIVER, forming the boundary of Washington and Walton counties,
is named for them, as are CHOCTAWHATCHEE BAY in the southern
part of Okaloosa and Walton counties and the CHOCTAWHATCHEE
NATIONAL FOREST across the southern part of Okaloosa, Santa
Rosa, and Walton counties. The last two are, of course, transfer
names from the river, for hatchee is the word for "river," and
Choctawhatchee means "river of the Choctaw" (or Chatot by
original intention), and thus are only indirectly named for the
Indians themselves. Such earlier spellings as Chatto Hatcha on
the Romans map of 1774 are indications of the intention of this
PENSACOLA (Escambia County) preserves the name of another
native tribe; the city was established and named by the Spanish
in their first colonial period for the Indians they called Panzacola.

The bay on which the city is situated is called PENSACOLA BAY,
and WEST PENSACOLA is a later town belonging to this cluster.
The Indians of the native southern Florida tribe, the Calusa,
are commemorated in the name of the CALOOSAHATCHEE RIVER,
flowing into CHARLOTTE HARBOR, which also is named for them in
the complicated way described for Charlotte County. CALOOSA
LAKE, in Polk County, is also reminiscent of the Calusa, though
that name is of recent application.
ANA in Walton County are named for the Yuchi, a tribe of Indians
from Tennessee who immigrated in the early seventeenth century
to the lands along the Choctawhatchee.
The Seminoles, besides being the namesake of Seminole County,
are also recognized in the name of a Pinellas County village called
SEMINOLE, a Bay County one called SEMINOLE HILLS, and a Lake
County spring called SEMINOLE SPRING, as well as in other miscel-
laneous names in Florida. Among names which recall separate
Seminole tribes is MICCOSUKEE, a village in Leon County, where
there is also MICCOSUKEE LAKE.
On the Apalachicola River, in Liberty County, is a place called
ESTIFFANULGA. Its name may commemorate a group of red men
also, for it is thought to be a corruption of an Indian word mean-
ing "Spaniard Clan." Isfanalgi (ispani, "Spaniard," and algi,
"clan") is suggested as the Creek original. It may, of course, have
reference to Spaniards if the suggested etymology is correct at all.
"Foreign" Indians-i.e., Indians who never lived in Florida-
have left names in Florida too, as shown in the names of the sta-
tions called MATOAKA (Manatee County), KOMOKO (Alachua
County), and GERONIMO (Santa Rosa County). Such names were
recently bestowed, sometimes by persons with a romantic interest
in the American Indian, sometimes by Florida settlers who came
from regions once inhabited by these Indians. Matoaka, authori-
ties tell us, was the real name of the famous Pocahontas, daughter
of Powhatan. And it is reported that Komoka was an Indian chief
who lived in Michigan and that when a Michigan lumber company
(the Cummer-Diggins Company) established itself in Florida,
it remembered him in the name of one of its stations, misspelled
Komoko. Geronimo was the name of the famous Apache chief who
died in 1909, eleven years before the Florida town was established.
Geronimo was imprisoned for a short time by the United States

Government at Fort Pickens, on Florida's Santa Rosa Island,
after his capture in 1886.

The "oldest" British name on the Florida map, though not the
earliest to be placed there, is that of Jonathan Dickinson, a
seventeenth-century Pennsylvania Quaker whose ship foundered
on the southern Florida coast in 1696. He and twenty-four other
Quakers were then escorted by Indians on a difficult and harrow-
ing walk that took them the entire length of wild Florida and
finally, somehow, back to Philadelphia. Now Floridians have
commemorated Dickinson and his adventure in the name of
JONATHAN DICKINSON STATE PARK, a few miles south of Stuart,
in Martin County, near where the ship foundered. But this is a
twentieth-century naming; the names of many other Britons were
attached to the land long before Jonathan Dickinson was honored.
Florida was a part of the British Empire for twenty years
(1763-83), as some of her place-names still remind us. But thirty
years before the Union Jack waved legally over Florida, the names
of English men and women began to be sprinkled over the north-
eastern area. When James Oglethorpe established the colony of
Georgia in 1733, he promptly built a chain of forts along the
coast to the very gates of St. Augustine. He honored Princess
Amelia, daughter of King George II, then ruling England, by
renaming in 1733 the ancient island of Guale (which the Spaniards
had called Santa Maria) AMELIA ISLAND. The island, a part of
Florida's Nassau County, still bears her name, as do the AMELIA
RIVER and AMELIA CITY, also in Nassau County.
Amelia's father is remembered by many "George" names that
Oglethorpe gave in this same period, including Duval County's
FORT GEORGE ISLAND; the town that has grown up upon it, FORT
GEORGE; and FORT GEORGE INLET, off its coast. England's long
habit of crowning men named George has confused this matter
somewhat, and there are those who say that George III is the man
honored here, for a fort was built on Gage Hill by the last British
governor of Florida, Peter Chester, in 1772, when George III was
England's sovereign. Oglethorpe's fort was first, however, and
there is no doubt that his king was the original King George of
the island. Actually, Oglethorpe originally named the island "St.
George," presumably after the patron saint of England, but by

association with the "Fort George" he built upon it, it gradually
came to be known as Fort George Island.
George III, however, was almost certainly the man for whom
LAKE GEORGE, an expansion of the St. Johns River farther down the
peninsula, was named. This George's queen, Charlotte, lives in the
name of Charlotte Harbor and its offspring, as has been pointed
out earlier.
Other Britishers of the English occupation period who are
remembered still on Florida's map include an Irish statesman,
two lawless adventurers, a chief justice, a viscount who was
granted lands in Florida by George III, two lords of the admiralty,
and a Scots adventurer. LAKE BERESFORD, in Volusia County, was
so named by the English, according to the Federal Writers' Project
unpublished dictionary, "for Lord Beresford," an English admiral.
This is highly unlikely, since the first Baron Beresford, British
admiral, was not born until sixty-three years after the English
had relinquished Florida, and was a popular hero (though not yet
an admiral) a hundred years afterward. If indeed the English
named this Florida lake during their Florida occupation, they
may have named it for John Beresford, an Irish statesman who
was nearing the height of his power at that time. The town of
BERESFORD, near the lake, was named in 1874 for the lake. Curi-
ously enough, this was the time when Lord Beresford, the admiral,
was prominent in England as a sportsman and personal friend of
the Prince of Wales. We may assume at least that the name Beres-
ford honors a Britisher, and its location in an area where the
British did establish residence during their ownership lends
support to the supposition that the name dates from that period.
An unscrupulous adventurer named William Augustus Bowles,
who served in the British army during the American Revolution
but who deserted and lived among the Creek Indians, is commem-
orated by a place-name in Volusia County also. Bowles served
as agent for a group of loyalists in the Bahamas who tried to estab-
lish a contraband trade with the Florida Indians during the
second Spanish occupation. A small settlement in Volusia County
is called BOWLES, proving that glamour without honor is glamour
still, and William Augustus Bowles makes a picturesque figure
as he walks in the Florida pageant.
Another one of the lawless ruffians active in Florida during the
last months of the British occupation and labelled the "Banditti"
by the outgoing British governor was William McGirt, for whom

McGIRTS CREEK in Duval County is named. McGirt, who had
deserted from the American army and had then been commis-
sioned by the British to organize the East Florida Rangers using
British refugees, turned outlaw when the war was over and led
a gang which specialized in stealing the property of East Florida
residents who were attempting to gather their possessions and
leave Florida. The naming of McGirts Creek is said to commem-
orate his exploit in escaping from a posse by swimming his horse
across the creek.
A bewigged and berobed English justice is honored in the name
of DRAYTON ISLAND, in Lake George. This island, on which stood
the mission of San Antonio de Anacape during the first Spanish
period, was named for Chief Justice Drayton during the twenty-
year English occupation.
The Englishman most liberally commemorated in the place-
names of Florida is Willis Hill, second Viscount Hillsborough.
When Florida was returned to Spain, the name of Hillsborough
lingered on the HILLSBOROUGH RIVER (now officially the HILLSBORO
RIVER), which empties into HILLSBORO BAY; and later, for these
natural features, Americans named HILLSBOROUGH COUNTY in
1834. Now there is in that county a railroad station named HILLS-
BOROUGH; in Palm Beach County there is HILLSBOROUGH CANAL;
and in Broward County there are HILLSBORO INLET, HILLSBORO
LIGHTHOUSE, and HILLSBORO BEACH. Properly speaking, not all
of these names intentionally honor the English earl, for after the
War of 1812 Americans were not given to direct English naming;
but because he had left his name in Florida fifty years before
the Americans acquired her and because it was a pleasant name,
they continued to sprinkle it over the face of their map.
Lord Hillsborough's brother-in-law, John Perceval, second earl
of Egmont, is reportedly the namesake of EGMONT KEY, an island
which guards the entrance to Tampa Bay. It has been fortified by
the Spanish, the British, and the Americans but is now largely
deserted, except for a small Coast Guard station. Egmont is said
to have been a land agent in Florida at the time the island was
named, but he was also first lord of the admiralty briefly (1763-
66) during the British occupation of Florida. One of his younger
sons, Spencer Perceval, became prime minister of England.
The HALIFAX RIVER, in Flagler and Volusia counties, was given
that name during the British occupation, presumably in honor
of George Montagu Dunk, second earl of Halifax, who was promi-

nent as first lord of the admiralty, among other things, during
that time.
TURNBULL, a railroad station in Brevard County, commemorates
Dr. Andrew Turnbull, the Scot who established New Smyrna,
a few miles to the north, in 1768. Turnbull, at the southern end
of TURNBULL HAMMOCK, was established in about 1887. TURNBULL
CREEK, in St. Johns County, also remembers this strange and cruel
man who brought a colony of Minorcans and Greeks to Florida
and deserted them. His adventure inspired Stephen Vincent
BenAt's twentieth-century Florida novel, Spanish Bayonet.
The name of ORMOND, a city in Volusia County, honors an Eng-
lishman who received a grant of land from the Spanish govern-
ment and came here from the Bahamas during the second Spanish
occupation, settling at a place then called Damietta Mosquito.
Captain James Ormond, the grantee, was killed by a runaway
slave around 1815. Sixty years later a colony from New Britain,
Connecticut, settled at the place and called it New Britain; but
later residents, looking into local history, changed the name to
Ormond. Just across the river is its sister city, ORMOND BEACH,
famous as the winter home of the late John D. Rockefeller.
An Englishman of the Victorian period has the distinction of
being the only literary man after whom a Florida place is named.
John Ruskin, author and critic, was honored ten years after his
death when RUSKIN, a town established in Hillsborough County
as a socialist colony in 1910, was named for him because of his
interest in socialism.

The folklore of Florida abounds in legends of buried treasure and
of desperate outlaws lurking in the recesses of her irregular coast.
Especially in the lawless era of the eighteenth and early nine-
teenth centuries, international rivalries made Florida a confusing
no-man's land where anything could happen, and certainly there
was a goodly measure of skullduggery along her crooked coast;
but by and large the pirate stories her people tell are unverifiable.
Those who have investigated the history of piracy say that the
great stream of it passed Florida by in favor of more profitable
operations in the West Indies. Nonetheless, there are place-names
in Florida that ring like pieces of eight, to commemorate pirates
real and imagined.

Ironically, one of the best known of the pirates' names on her
map is probably not a pirate's name at all. Gasparilla, or "Little
Gaspar," is supposed to have been a renegade Spanish naval
officer who settled at Charlotte Harbor in about 1783 and lived
as veritable king of the pirates, creating terror along the Gulf
coast with his cruelties. The name of GASPARILLA ISLAND off the
coast of Charlotte County and of the settlement of GASPARILLA
upon the island are, naturally enough, said to commemorate him.
the same vicinity. Gasparilla's favorite wife is said to be commem-
orated in the name of USEPPA ISLAND, off the coast of Lee County.
Legend has it that this storied pirate, whom Floridians now cele-
brate each year in the famous Gasparilla Festival at Tampa, took
unto himself numerous wives (captured Spanish princesses,
Mexican maidens, etc.) whom he set up on CAPTIVA ISLAND, whose
name speaks for itself. Things went well, apparently, until the
advent of a particularly beautiful captive named Joseffa. Joseffa,
because she was his favorite, aroused the anger of the ordinary
wives, and Gasparilla restored tranquillity by setting her up in
solitary splendor on an island a few miles away. The spelling of the
name eventually followed local pronunciation, and Joseffa's island,
after passing through several changes, became Useppa Island.
Thus, Floridians say, a glamourous pirate and his lady have left
their names on the map.
However, the name of Gasparilla was on the map before the
storied pirate is supposed to have made his appearance. Old Span-
ish and English charts show it usually referring to GASPARILLA
KEY and LITTLE GASPARILLA KEY, as it still does today. In 1772
Bernard Romans, charting the Gulf coast, indicated Boca Gas-
parilla ("Gasparilla Mouth"). So it seems that someone before the
pirate's appearance left the name on Florida's map. A clue appears
in certain maritime reports of the mid-nineteenth century: The
American Coast Pilot for 1842 mentions a channel, or inlet, in
"Carlos Bay" (now Charlotte Harbor) called "Friar Gaspar"; the
Spanish chart book for 1862 published in Madrid names "The
inlet of Friar Gaspar or Gasparillo . to the north of the north-
ern point of Gasparilla Key." Thus Friar Gaspar apparently is the
man commemorated, a far cry from the fierce and swashbuckling
pirate Gaspar. History informs us that Menendez established a
mission on Charlotte Harbor in 1567. Four of the priests who
worked in this region in later years were named Gaspar. Several

ancient Spanish well-heads have been found on Little Gasparilla
Key; perhaps a mission was located there. It seems credible, given
all these hints, that the name Gaspar or Gasparilla first came to
Charlotte Harbor borne by a devoted friar or priest whose story
is still buried in the records of some ancient order.
Nevertheless Floridians devote three days of gaiety and fun each
year to a mythical buccaneer who sails boldly into Tampa Bay
and captures the city with the greatest of ease. Gasparilla was
invented, apparently, by a colorful character called Johnny
Gomez, who lived on Panther Key from 1876 until 1900, when he
drowned while mullet-fishing at the age of 119. Assisted by a
lively imagination, some probable actual experience with pirates
on the Cuban coast, a fondness for the Havana rum that men
traded for his stories, and the interesting name of Gasparilla
handily attached to several nearby landmarks, he simply made the
pirate up. The officials of the old Charlotte and Northern Rail-
road were so pleased with Johnny's stories and so convinced by
them-after all, there was the name on the map!-that they put
into their railroad folder the story of Gasparilla the pirate and
Johnny Gomez his "brother-in-law." The printed pamphlet became
the outstanding "authority" for the legend of the fierce Gaspar-
illa and has been extensively cited in other works-proving the
power of the printed word. But there is no other authority in
America. And so the roistering buccaneer enters the Florida his-
torical pageant by a very dubious route-as perhaps a buccaneer
should-and the humble and devout Friar Gaspar, who belongs
there, goes unheralded. What this expose does to USEPPA ISLAND
and CAPTIVA ISLAND is a problem, but there apparently exist no
alternative explanations for these names.
Two other places presumably named for pirates include BLACK
CAESAR'S KEY, off Dade County, which is said to have been a hiding
place of the notorious Negro outlaw Black Caesar, and TAVERNIER
CREEK, at the lower end of Key Largo (off Monroe County), named
for the Frenchman Tavernier, lieutenant to the famous old pirate
Jean LaFitte. TAVERNIER KEY and the settlement of TAVERNIER
upon it derive their names in turn from the creek. Black Caesar
and Tavernier were presumably "real" pirates, though neither of
them is as well known to Floridians as the pirate they invented.
Whether real or imaginary, these pirates are rightfully com-
memorated in Florida place-names, so that an exciting part of her
past may not be lost from her map.

Another distinguished foreigner who lives on in Florida place-names
is Thomas Garrique Masaryk, philosopher and statesman and first
president of Czechoslovakia. Masaryk, who died in 1937, was
honored by this naming while he was still living. In 1924 Joseph
Joseak, with some fifty Czech families from Pennsylvania, New
York, and neighboring states, established MASARYKTOWN in
Hernando County as an agricultural colony for people of Czecho-
slovakia. Today not only the name but the customs of the place
are reminiscent of the Old World origin of these people, some of
whom-especially the older residents-still use the Czech lan-
guage; and two flags, American and Czechoslovakian, stand at
the Masaryk Memorial Library.
TAVARES, in Lake County, was named in 1882 for Lopez Para
y Tavares, "a grandee of Portugal" who was an ancestor of Alex-
ander St. Clair-Abrams, founder of the settlement.

Florida has only a little more than a century and a half under the
Stars and Stripes and a little more than four years under the flag
of the Confederacy to balance against her 308 years of subordina-
tion to the Old World, but these 150-odd years have seen her great-
est development. She was still a wilderness when the United
States received her from Spain, with much of her lands not only
unsettled but unexplored. Most of her cities and all of her counties
have been established since then, and many of her natural fea-
tures have received their names or have been renamed during the
American period. Thus it is that Americans honored by Florida
place-names outnumber others ten to one.
American Revolutionary Heroes.-Though Florida was a loyal
British colony during the American Revolution, her later citi-
zens have honored in her place-names several of the American
Revolutionary heroes, as we have already seen in the names of
Sumter, Marion, and Washington counties. POINT WASHINGTON,
now in Walton County but formerly in Washington County, and
WASHINGTON, a hamlet in the present Washington County, got
their names from the county that was named in honor of the
commander-in-chief of American Revolutionary forces. And in
Sumter County the town of SUMTERVILLE is a tribute to that same
General Thomas Sumter for whom the county is named.
FORT PICKENS, on Santa Rosa Island in Escambia County, was

named, as it neared completion in 1833, for Brigadier General
Andrew Pickens of the South Carolina state troops in the Revolu-
tion. FORT PICKENS STATE PARK, recently added to the National
Register of Historic Places, is its present designation. The town
of JASPER, in Hamilton County, was renamed in 1850 to honor the
Revolutionary hero Sergeant William Jasper, who rescued the
American flag during the British assault on Fort Sullivan (now
Fort Moultrie) in 1776. Before 1850, Jasper had been informally
called "Mico Town," a name of Indian origin. MOULTRIE, in St.
Johns County, honors the famous General William Moultrie,
whose most direct connection with Florida history is that he was
commander of the unsuccessful expedition for the invasion of
Florida in 1776. The nearby MOULTRIE JUNCTION is an echo of the
original honor.
National Statesmen.-National figures of the first seventy years
of the nation's history are definitely on the map in Florida. Men
who helped to mold the nation during these years are represented,
as we have seen, in the county names of Franklin, Jefferson,
Hamilton, Madison, Taylor, Monroe, Gadsden, Polk, Clay,
Calhoun, Washington, and Jackson. Some of these men, as well
as others prominent in the young nation, are commemorated
also in the names of towns and natural features scattered over
the peninsula. The county seat of Madison County is named
MADISON, though the naming was accidental rather than delib-
erate, for the place was called Newton until the continual arrival
of mail addressed to "Madison C. H.," signifying the courthouse
or county seat of Madison County, pressured residents into the
habit of referring to their town as "Madison Court House." The
"C. H." was dropped after the Civil War.
The body of water called LAKE MONROE in Seminole County was
called Valdez under the Spanish occupation, but when Florida
was purchased from Spain by the United States the name was
changed to honor the president then in office, James Monroe.
The nearby settlement called LAKE MONROE, started in 1886, took
the name of the lake.
QUINCY, county seat of Gadsden County, was named for the
president who succeeded Monroe-John Quincy Adams, who was
elected in 1824, the year after Gadsden County was created. The
use of Adams's middle name rather than his last was a wide-
spread place-naming habit (as, for example, Quincy, Illinois), since
it is the most distinguishing part of his name.
POINSETT LAKE, in Brevard County, honors the memory of Joel

Poinsett of South Carolina, United States minister to Mexico,
the man after whom the poinsettia, one of Florida's winter flowers,
is also named.
POLK CITY and POLK LAKE, both in Polk County, derived their
names indirectly (through the county name) from James K. Polk,
who became United States president at the same time Florida
became a state.
BROOKSVILLE, in Hernando County, commemorates the Honor-
able Preston Brooks, congressman from South Carolina, who in
1856 broke a gutta percha cane over the head of Senator Charles
Sumner of Massachusetts and left him unconscious on the floor
of the Senate Chamber. For this impetuous act-occasioned by
Sumner's public denunciation of Brooks's uncle, Senator A. P.
Butler of South Carolina, during a heated debate on the Kansas-
Nebraska Bill-Brooks received a number of gold-headed canes
and gold-handled whips from admirers, vehement denunciations
from his enemies, and had a town in Florida named for him. EAST
BROOKSVILLE, in Hernando County too, also bears his name.
Brooksville had its beginning as a village in the fifteen-year
period between statehood and secession (1845-60), when many
settlers from South Carolina came to Florida.
The intensely sectional character of Florida during the decade
of the 1860s is revealed in the fact that her place-names do not
purposely commemorate national figures of this era, though many
honor men who cast their lots with the new, short-lived Confed-
erate States of America. These will be discussed in a separate
section, but it can be noted here that such men as Abraham
Lincoln, Ulysses S. Grant, and William Tecumseh Sherman do
not appear in Florida's pageant of names. The first "yankee"
name to appear among the national figures after the cleavage of
the sixties is that of General Henry Sanford, former United States
minister to Belgium, who was personally responsible for the
fact that his name is on Florida's map. In 1871, Sanford bought
12,000 acres in what is now Seminole County for the purpose of
building a city. He named the new town after himself, and today
SANFORD is the county seat of Seminole County. Later, WEST
SANFORD was derived from it.
The Republican president whose term of office was cut to less than
four months by a bullet from the gun of disappointed office-seeker
Charles Guiteau (1881) is honored in the naming of GARFIELD,
established in about 1893 in Volusia County and named for James

A. Garfield. The fact that a Republican president was so honored
in a state consistently Democratic since the Civil War may be in-
dicative of the cosmopolitan character which Florida, as a haven
for people from all sections of the country, was beginning to assume.
Another Republican president, William Howard Taft, is honored
by the name of a town called TAFT, in Orange County. This name
was given to the town at the conclusion of a long campaign con-
ducted in the Saturday Evening Post while President Taft was
in office.
Democrat Grover Cleveland had a town named for him in Char-
lotte County in 1886, the year after his first inauguration. A
Georgia man, Dr. A. E. Holleyman, who had bought and developed
extensive property on the Peace River, named the town CLEVE-
LAND. Perhaps the president's Florida vacation during that time
prompted the naming. Two of Cleveland's cabinet members are
also on Florida's map: BAYARD, in Duval County, honors Thomas
Francis Bayard, secretary of state in Cleveland's 1885-89 admin-
istration and the first United States ambassador to Britain's
Court of St. James in the 1893-97 administration; and LAMONT,
in Jefferson County, commemorates Daniel Scott Lamont, secre-
tary of war during Cleveland's second administration.
Other national figures of the twentieth century are rare in
Florida place-names, but the Democratic Franklin D. Roosevelt,
president during the Great Depression, is remembered in the
name of CAMP ROOSEVELT, built in Marion County as a part of one
of the job-giving public works projects of his first administration.
The name of the late President John Fitzgerald Kennedy tem-
porarily designated a unique Florida place after President
Lyndon Johnson's 1963 renaming of Cape Canaveral (Brevard
County) to CAPE KENNEDY. The name rested uneasily on the cape
until 1973, when in response to the insistent demand of the people
the ancient Spanish name was restored. The name of KENNEDY
SPACE CENTER continues to commemorate him (see chapter 4).
Florida Statesmen.-The names of men who helped to build the
government of Florida from territorial days far into statehood
are many upon her map. Eleven of her sixty-seven counties bear
the names of such men, from her first military governor, Jackson,
on through Walton, Duval, Levy, Brevard, Baker, Pasco, Broward,
Gilchrist, Hardee, and Martin, all of whom have been discussed.
Andrew Jackson is further commemorated in the name of one of
Florida's principal cities, JACKSONVILLE, county seat of Duval

County, and its adjacent areas JACKSONVILLE BEACH and SOUTH
JACKSONVILLE. Jacksonville, referred to as "a place called the
Cowford" in the territorial act of 1822 which added Jackson and
Duval counties to Escambia and St. Johns, was renamed Jack-
sonville in that very year. The "Cowford" was a translation of
the Indian name for the place-Waca Pilatka, "place where the
cows cross." ("Ford" is actually a mistranslation ofpilatka. The more
accurate word is "ferry." The river is much too deep to ford at Jack-
sonville. So the name implies a cattle crossing by swimming or
ferriage, not by wading.) The Indians had never seen cows until
the Spaniards brought them, and their word for them- Waca or
Wakka-is a variant of the Spanish vaca. At this point on the
St. Johns River, apparently, there has always been a crossing of
some kind. The Spanish called the place the Ferry of St. Nicholas,
but the Americans went back to a translation of the Indian de-
scriptive name until a sense of new dignity moved them to change
it to Jacksonville. JACKSON LAKE, in Highlands County, is also
thought to honor Andrew Jackson, as is LAKE JACKSON in Leon
WORTHINGTON SPRINGS, in Bradford County, is said to be named
for W. G. D. Worthington, who was secretary and acting governor
of East Florida under Jackson. Another story is that it was named
for Samuel Worthington, who settled there in the 1820s. The
post office is called WORTHINGTON.
FORT WALTON BEACH, in Okaloosa County, was named for the
same George Walton who gave his name to WALTON COUNTY.
And another Jackson man is remembered in the name of the
Union County seat, LAKE BUTLER; he is Colonel Robert Butler,
who formally received East Florida from Spain on July 10,
1821, in St. Augustine.
Florida's indefatigable territorial delegate, first senator, and
railroad promoter, the colorful David Levy Yulee, discussed as the
namesake of LEVY COUNTY, appears again in the names of Lake
County's YALE LAKE (a victim of careless spelling apparently,
for in 1856 it was shown as Lake Yulee), a town in Nassau County
named YULEE in 1852, and a YULEE established in Alachua County
in 1878. Alachua County also has a LAKE LEVY.
BALDWIN, in Duval County, honors Dr. A. S. Baldwin, who
served in the Florida legislature in antebellum days and was a
prominent surgeon in the Confederate army during the Civil
War. Dr. Baldwin was a leading figure in the building of the first

railroad into Jacksonville, and this nearby railroad junction, first
called Thigpen, was named in his honor in 1860.
Although several stories are current concerning the naming of
STARKE, in Bradford County, the most convincing one is that it
was named for Florida Governor Madison Starke Perry, who
held the office from 1857 to 1861. Governor Perry was a native
of South Carolina, and his mother was a member of the prominent
Starke family of that state. The Bradford County Herald, in a
seventy-fifth anniversary edition on November 12, 1954, said,
"Since the earliest residents of the little village included more
people from South Carolina than any other state it is not surpris-
ing that the town was called Starke, in honor of Madison Starke
Perry, Governor of Florida from 1857 to 1861." Further evidence
pointing to the authenticity of this version of the naming is that
the year of Starke's founding was 1857, which was also the year
of Governor M. S. Perry's inauguration. He was the governor who
signed the papers completing Florida's secession from the Union,
on January 11, 1861.
MILTON, county seat of Santa Rosa County, may or may not be
named in honor of a Florida governor. John Milton governed
Florida from 1861 to 1865 and took his own life on April 1, 1865,
knowing that the Confederacy had lost. In his last message to the
legislature he had said, "Death would be preferable to reunion."
Some say the town was named for him, while others say the name
honors Milton Amos, a pioneer resident, and still others that the
name was once Milltown and honors no man at all. At any rate
the place is older than the name, having been established as a
trading post during territorial days. In those rougher times, it is
said that it was called Scratch Ankle or Hardscrabble, names
whose loss might well be regretted by the connoisseur of colorful
Suwannee County's McALPIN was named by railroad officials
for D. M. McAlpin, a personal friend who had represented the
county in the legislature in the 1870s and was also editor of the
Florida Bulletin.
The memory of Governor William D. Bloxham (1881-85) is
perpetuated in the name of BLOXHAM, a town in Leon County.
And the governor who succeeded him, Edward A. Perry, is
honored by the name of the county seat of Taylor County, PERRY,
which was known as Rosehead when the first post office was estab-
lished there in 1869.

PASCO is named for its county, whose name, as has been seen,
honors another nineteenth-century Florida statesman, Samuel
Pasco, while GILCHRIST, in Charlotte County, is named for the
twentieth-century governor Albert H. Gilchrist (1909-13), after
whom Gilchrist County is also named.
Dr. John L. Crawford, Wakulla County physician and public
figure, appointed secretary of state by Governor Bloxham in 1880,
is the man commemorated in the name of the town where he lived,
CRAWFORDVILLE, county seat of Wakulla County. The little place
was named for him in 1866 when it became the county seat and
while he was state senator from Wakulla County; it had formerly
been called Shell Point, which still exists as the name of a nearby
"shore dinner" spot.
Seminole War Heroes.-Florida's history as a United States terri-
tory is deeply stained with the bloody years of the Seminole War
(1835-42) and its preliminary struggles. Her map, as we have
seen, is dotted with the names of Seminole chiefs who fought in
that war, but the Americans who finally crushed them are there
in far greater numbers. Dade, Putnam, Gadsden, and Taylor
counties commemorate four of the heroes-one who died at the
beginning of the major conflict, one who was a prominent Florida
lawyer in peacetime, and two who acquired national prominence
after the war was over. Other names honoring the massacred
Dade are FORT DADE, in Hillsborough County, and DADE CITY, in
Pasco County. The Honorable Mr. Putnam is further memorial-
ized in the name of PUTNAM HALL, in the county named for him.
Other Indian fighters remembered on Florida's map are numer-
ous. General Duncan L. Clinch is honored by FORT CLINCH, in
Nassau County; Colonel William Davenport is remembered by
Polk County's DAVENPORT (a transfer name from Fort Davenport,
an army post once located nearby); and Brigadier General Abra-
ham Eustis is commemorated by LAKE EUSTIS, EUSTIS, and EUSTIS
TRANSFER in Lake County, though some say that the naming of the
town of Eustis, which was later than that of the lake, was for the
general's son, a Civil War soldier, engineer, and college professor.
Other Seminole War heroes whose names are on the Florida map
include Dr. John S. Gatlin, assistant surgeon, slain by Indians in
1835, for whom FORT GATLIN and the village called GATLIN, in
Orange County, were named; General Edmund Pendleton Gaines,
remembered in the name of Alachua County's GAINESVILLE; Major

William W. Harlee, honored by FORT HARLEE, in Bradford County;
Colonel William Selby Harney, for whom HARNEY, in Hillsborough
County, and LAKE HARNEY, in Volusia and Orange counties, were
named; and Major William Lauderdale, honored in the name of
FORT LAUDERDALE, in Broward County. Colonel William McRae is
commemorated by FORT McRAE, a village on an island in the Gulf
of Mexico off Escambia County; Captain William Seton Maitland,
by LAKE MAITLAND and the town of MAITLAND, in Orange County;
and Major Richard Barnes Mason, by the village of FORT MASON,
in Lake County.
Furthermore, "a captain Merritt of Seminole war fame" is
said to be the namesake of MERRITT ISLAND (Brevard County) and
the community thereon called MERRITT, though considerable un-
certainty surrounds this version of the naming; another is that
the island was named for a Spanish grantee of the first decade of
the nineteenth century.
Other military men from the Seminole War years who left their
names on the Florida map include a Georgia volunteer named
Newnan, commemorated by NEWNAN'S LAKE and by the ghost
town NEWNANSVILLE, former county seat of Alachua County;
Orlando Reeves, a sentinel slain by Indians in 1835, honored by
Orange County's ORLANDO, where a street named Rosalind is both
an outgrowth and a perpetuation of the false idea that the city
was named for the Orlando of Shakespeare's As You Like It; and
Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Kendrick Pierce, namesake of FORT
PIERCE, county seat of St. Lucie County, and its offspring FORT
Colonel Alexander R. Thompson, killed at the battle of Lake
Okeechobee, is remembered by FORT THOMPSON, in Hendry County;
a man named White, whose first name is unrecorded, by FORT
WHITE, named for a Seminole War fort, in Columbia County;
Colonel Joseph M. White, United States territorial delegate, by
FORT WHITE, in Escambia County; Captain Edward S. Winder
by WINDER LAKE, in Brevard County; and General William Jenkins
Worth, whose brilliant strategy in the Seminole War helped to
bring it to a conclusion and who went on to distinction in the
Mexican War, by LAKE WORTH (both a lake and a town), in Palm
Beach County. FORT MELLON PARK in Sanford (Seminole County)
is named in memory of Captain Charles Mellon, killed there in
action against the Seminoles. FORT COOPER LAKE, in Citrus County,

memorializes Major Mark Anthony Cooper, who commanded the
First Georgia Battalion of Volunteers. The fort they built and
defended there in 1836 has recently been excavated.
A few of these etymologies are cloaked in doubt because of the
meager and vague information given in the available sources, but
the length of the list shows the prominence of the Seminole Wars
in the background of Florida.
Civil War Heroes.-Just as Florida's territorial years were torn
by war, so her years of early statehood were disrupted by the Civil
War. Only sixteen years after her admission to the Union she with-
drew from it, the third of the southern states to secede, and became
a member of the Confederate States of America. The record of
Florida's devotion to the cause of the Confederacy may be read
in her commemorative place-names, for none of them honors a
northern hero, while several recall a man in gray. As already men-
tioned, the most illustrious of all Confederate heroes, Robert E.
Lee, is honored by the name of Lee County, created in 1887, while
Bradford County, so renamed on December 6, 1861, commemo-
rates the first Florida officer killed in the war. LEE, in Madison
County, is another reminder of the honored leader of the Confed-
erate forces; it was named for him in 1882, when the first post
office was established there. Other place-names that memorialize
Confederate heroes are ARCHER (Alachua County), for General
James J. Archer; BARTOW (Polk County), for General Francis
Bartow, first general officer of either side to die in battle; CAMP
JOHNSTON (Duval County), for General Joseph E. Johnston; GRACE-
VILLE (Jackson County), for Captain N. D. Grace; and INGLIS
(Levy County), for Captain John S. English. EARLETON (Ala-
chua County) was named in about 1875 for Confederate General
Elias Earle, who lived there. It is instructive to note that most of
these places had been settled before the Civil War and had other
names, which were changed in deference to the heroes. Bartow,
for instance, had been known as "Pease Creek."
The men who fought the war were not all uniformed men.
Statesmen and editors and others were also prominent. Some of
these who are remembered in the place-names have been dis-
cussed under "Florida Statesmen," and it may be appropriate
to mention here that ARNO, in Alachua County, commemorates
the Honorable George Arnow, editor of The Cotton States during
the war.
Actually the number of place-names honoring Confederate

heroes is comparatively small in Florida. The young state seemed
to hurry past this dark era and fix her mind on what was to come.
For Florida had ahead of her a phenomenal period of development,
and her potential was seen by many men of vision who began to
emerge in the latter part of the nineteenth century.
Developers and Promoters.-Northern capitalists who spent their
money to develop and promote Florida as a tourist's paradise, a
vacationland par excellence, have left their names upon the map
of the state. The most magnificent of them all, Henry M. Flagler,
was honored when Flagler County was created in 1917. FLAGLER
BEACH, in that county, was also named for him at the request of
a homesteader whose brother had been a personal friend of Flag-
ler's. Both of these names were given after Flagler's death; it was
his own modesty that prevented the naming of the city of Miami
for him while he was still alive. One of Miami's important thor-
oughfares, however, is FLAGLER STREET.
In Flagler County there is a lake named LAKE DISSTON, which
must have been named to honor Hamilton Disston, the Phila-
delphia capitalist who bought and attempted to reclaim and de-
velop four million acres of Florida land in the 1880s. Lake Disston
has been on maps since the late 1800s. The DISSTON CITY which
appears upon Florida maps of the 1890s and early 1900s in what
is now Pinellas County was almost certainly named for him, but
that city is now gone from the land (at least as a separate munic-
ipality). A St. Petersburg station named DISSTON PLAZA is listed
in the zip code directory of the United States Postal Service.
Another capitalist-developer commemorated by a county name
is Barron G. Collier, advertising executive after whom Collier
County was named when it was established in 1923. COLLIER CITY,
a town in that county, honors him also.
Henry B. Plant, a railroad titan second only to Flagler in the
release of Florida from isolation, has not been honored with a
county name, but a thriving city in Hillsborough County, PLANT
CITY, was named for him in 1885 at the insistence of its founder,
J. T. Evans, who was aware that only the building of Plant's rail-
road through this section made its development possible.
Other place-names of Florida evoking the memory of wealthy
Americans who helped make Florida what she is today are ASTOR
and ASTOR PARK (Lake County), for the Wall Street magnate
LANDING (Volusia County), for Henry A. DeLand, a New York

baking powder manufacturer who, with John B. Stetson, Phila-
delphia hat manufacturer, laid the foundation for the city of
Deland in 1876. The university there, originally established as an
academy by Mr. DeLand and called by his name, was later named,
at DeLand's request, STETSON UNIVERSITY for Mr. Stetson, who
had given the institution financial assistance.
The name of PENNEY FARMS, a community in Clay County,
reminds us of J. C. Penney, chain-store magnate who established
the place for retired ministers and gospel workers, in memory
of his minister father and his mother. And DAVIS ISLANDS, in
Hillsborough County, is named for David P. Davis, a Floridian
who, during the Florida "boom" days, 1921-25, conceived the
idea of building a town on these two islands which were formerly
called Grassy and Big. He pumped sand out of Tampa Bay to
create his city. A phenomenally successful development, the
islands are now a part of the city of Tampa-and the man their
name commemorates was drowned at sea in 1926. MUNYON'S
ISLAND, in Lake Worth (Palm Beach County), bears the name of
a wealthy Dr. Munyon, who lived on it and grew oranges and
papayas, using the latter fruit in the manufacture of medicine.
George E. Sebring, pottery manufacturer of Sebring, Ohio,
dreamed in the early twentieth century of creating in Florida a
community patterned on the ancient Egyptian city of Heliopolis,
with a central park representing the sun and the streets its rays.
He purchased land in what is now Highlands County, and con-
struction began in 1912. Today this dream city, SEBRING, is the
county seat of Highlands County.
During the land boom of the 1920s, Roger W. Babson, well-
known statistician, purchased 400 acres of land which included
the site of a town formerly known as "Crooked Lake," in Polk
County, and the name of the place was subsequently changed to
Other wealthy promoters have left their names on Florida's
map, but for the most part the capitalists gave descriptive or
picturesque names to their developments; and only a few, like
the spectacular Flagler and Plant, have captured Floridian hearts
and imaginations enough to warrant their commemoration in
place-names given by others. Some names which formerly remem-
bered such men have even been changed by later citizens; for
example, the name OLDSMAR was once attached to a community
established in Pinellas County in 1916 by the Reolds Farm Com-

pany, headed by R. E. Olds, Michigan automobile manufacturer.
The name-apparently a compound of Mr. Olds's name with the
Spanish word for "sea"-has since been changed to TAMPA SHORES.
Other Americans.-Famous Americans who appear in Florida's
assemblage of place-names include her own Dr. John Gorrie,
inventor of the first practical machine to produce arti-
ficial ice. Dr. Gorrie invented the machine to cool the rooms of
yellow fever patients in Apalachicola in 1845. Today his statue
stands in Statuary Hall in the Capitol at Washington, and in
GORRIE SQUARE in Apalachicola stands a monument erected to his
memory by the Southern Ice Association. His name is perpetuated
on Florida's map by the name of DOCTOR GORRIE BRIDGE across
East Bay from Apalachicola to Eastpoint, in Franklin County.
When Floridians speak the name of the town of BUCKINGHAM, in
Lee County, they honor Buckingham Smith, nineteenth-century
Florida historian, for whom the town's first postmaster, Edward
M. Williams, named the place. BURBANK, in Marion County, and
AUDUBON, in Brevard County, were named to honor, respectively,
Luther Burbank, noted horticulturist, and John James Audubon,
famous naturalist. Audubon traveled in Florida in 1832, studying
bird and animal life.
Nineteenth-century military men are remembered in the names
of Fort Meade, in Polk County, and Fort Myers, in Lee County.
The man whom FORT MEADE and its offspring WEST FORT MEADE
commemorate is Lieutenant George G. Meade. He was with a
group making a topographical survey of the area in 1852, and
was assigned by his commanding officer to the job of finding
the site of old Fort Clinch, which had been built in 1849 but not
maintained. Meade accomplished the difficult feat before the day
was over, to the intense satisfaction of his commander, a General
Twiggs, who is reported to have exclaimed, "Here shall be Fort
Meade!" The names of FORT MYERS and its adjacent town EAST
FORT MYERS were derived from the name of Colonel Abraham
Charles Myers and apparently bestowed by the same man who
named Fort Meade. General David E. Twiggs, later Myers' father-
in-law, assigned the name to the fort, which developed into a city
in the later years of the nineteenth century and became the county
seat of Lee County.
A nineteenth-century commodore in the United States Navy,
Lewis Warrington, is recalled in the name of Escambia County's
WARRINGTON, established during the 1840s when much of the

United States Navy Yard was under construction at Pensacola.
In 1929 the village was evacuated to make way for new construc-
tion, but in its nearby relocation on the banks of Bayou Grande
it retained the name of Warrington. A hero of the Spanish-
American War, Admiral George Dewey, is commemorated in
the name of DEWEY, a station in Hillsborough County named by
railroad officials to honor the hero of the battle of Manila Bay.
However, the custom of naming places for military heroes does
not flourish as it once did, for loyal though Florida has been in
all United States wars since the Civil War, her place-names do
not call forth many individual heroes of these later wars. It is true,
of course, that the heyday of place-naming is past when an area
becomes highly developed, all principal features have been named,
and few new towns are being established, so that new place-names
of any classification are fewer in later years. Nevertheless, to re-
member World War I Florida has a little place called PERSHING in
Taylor County, named in about 1920 for General John Joseph
Pershing, commander-in-chief of American forces in that war-
the man who made the historic remark at Paris's Arch of Tri-
umph, "Lafayette, we are here." A stream near the town is called
the PERSHING RIVER. SAMSULA, in Volusia County, was renamed
during World War I to honor Lloyd Samsula, a soldier from that
district. Samsula superseded a Captain Briggs who used to ship
oranges from this point and for whom the place had been called
Briggsville. As for the men who fought in World War II, tributes to
them are hard to find on Florida's map, though it is certain that many
smaller features and memorials have been named for individuals
among them-for example, MacARTHUR CAUSEWAY in Miami
Beach (Dade County), named for General Douglas MacArthur.
By far the greatest number of towns bearing the names of indi-
viduals in Florida were named for men whose fame did not spread
beyond the local area-settlers and builders and solid citizens
who were important where they lived. The postmaster of a town-
often influential in getting the post office established, and impor-
tant to the town in other ways-was frequently honored by having
the town named for him. In some cases he assigned the name
himself. The group of United States postmasters in the Florida
parade of names is large.
Among them one of the most picturesque figures is Colonel
Henry T. Titus, who came to Florida after the Civil War and
settled at TITUSVILLE (Brevard County) in 1867. Colonel Titus

was a colorful character, a bitter foe of the famous John Brown,
and a leader in the Kansas Crusade of 1855-56, with many des-
perate conflicts behind him. As autocrat and postmaster of the
place where he settled, then called Sand Point, he gave it his own
name instead. Legend has it that Colonel Titus and a friend, Cap-
tain Clark Rice, played a game of dominoes in 1873 to decide the
name of the town. It was to be Riceville if Captain Rice won and
Titusville if Colonel Titus won-and Colonel Titus's luck held.
Some other Florida towns named for their postmasters are
ALLANTON (Bay County), for Andrew Allen, first postmaster
(1890); BOND (Madison County), for William J. Bond, store owner
and first postmaster (1897); BRANDON (Hillsborough County),
for J. W. Brandon (1884); CAMPBELL (Osceola County), for A. S.
Campbell, also an orange grower (1884); COLEMAN (Sumter
County), for B. F. Coleman, a physician, orange grower, farmer,
and first postmaster (1882); EBB (Madison County), for Albert W.
Edwards, whose nickname was "Ebb," first postmaster (1904);
GRUBBS (Holmes County), for Henry Grubbs (n.d.); HAGUE (Ala-
chua County), for A. Hague, also an enterprising citizen (1883);
HAROLD (Santa Rosa County), for the son of the postmaster (1912);
JANNEY (Levy County), for Louis Janney (about 1900); JAY (Santa
Rosa County), for the first initial of J. T. Dowling, also a store
owner (1902); MANNVILLE (Putnam County), for W. H. Mann
(1883); MARTIN (Marion County), for Colonel Martin, owner of the
land grant and first postmaster (1883); PORT RICHEY (Pasco
County), for A. M. Richey (1883); REDDICK (Marion County), for
first postmaster (1882); SEFFNER (Hillsborough County), for E. P.
Seffner, first postmaster (1884); SIMMONS (Taylor County), for
Thomas Simmons (1845); and SPARR (Marion County), for M. S.
Sparr (1883).
Railroad men are another group represented fairly heavily in
Florida place-names. Since the building of railroads through un-
settled country necessitated the establishment and naming of sta-
tions, railroad men did a great deal of place-naming themselves.
They gave all kinds of names; some of them were their own names
or the names of other railroad men. In other cases the people of
a community newly liberated from isolation bestowed upon it
the name of a railroad official or worker prominent in that libera-
tion. For example, BUSHNELL, in Sumter County, was named to
honor the young chief engineer of the surveying crew who laid
the railroad right-of-way in 1884. CALLAHAN, in Nassau County,

was named for a contractor of the old Transit Railway. Washing-
ton County's CHIPLEY bears the name of Colonel William D. Chip-
ley, the chief railroad promoter in West Florida, whose Jackson-
ville, Pensacola, and Mobile Railroad was completed in 1883.
Colonel Chipley also served as mayor of Pensacola and is given
much credit for that city's development. CLEWISTON and WEST
CLEWISTON (Hendry County) were named for A. C. Clewis, the
Tampa banker who financed the extension of the Atlantic Coast
Line Railroad through this point in 1922.
When a post office was established at a little place in Lake
County in 1884, it was named CONANT to commemorate Sherman
Conant, general manager of the Florida Southern Railway at
that time; but now all that is left of Conant, which once boasted
a luxury hotel, a private school, and several expensive homes,
is a little cemetery containing three gravestones, around which
Highway 441/27 makes a sudden curve. The name of DEFUNIAK
SPRINGS (first called Lake DeFuniak), county seat of Walton
County, honors Colonel Fred DeFuniak of Louisville, Kentucky,
a prominent Louisville and Nashville Railroad official. Sup-
posedly, DUNNELLON, in Marion County, was named to honor an
early railroad promoter named J. R. Dunn (notwithstanding the
Scottish ring of the name). HAINES CITY, in Polk County, was re-
named after railroad official Colonel Henry Haines in about 1887,
it is said, in order to induce the company to stop its trains there-
and the strategy worked.
Other railroad men's names on Florida's map include LUTZ
(Hillsborough County), for C. E. Lutz, railroad official; O'BRIEN
(Suwannee County), for an official of the Savannah, Florida, and
Western Railroad; RANDS (Seminole County), for a railroad offi-
cial; STARR (Suwannee County), for an engineer on the L. O. P. & G.
Railway; STEELE CITY (Jackson County), for A. B. Steele, builder
of the Atlanta and St. Andrews Bay Railway in 1895; WAGNER
(Seminole County), for one of the railroad's oldest employees (the
place was named by the railroad in the first decade of the twen-
tieth century); and WHITNEY (Lake County), for a Seaboard Air
Line official.
Some places were named to honor men who in some way pro-
moted or influenced the establishment or development of the
place although they themselves did not live there. CARYVILLE
(Washington County), formerly "Half Moon Bluff," was renamed
in 1884, upon the advent of the Pensacola and Apalachicola Rail-

road, for R. M. Carey, Pensacola businessman; COREYTOWN
(Pinellas County) was indirectly named for the Pinellas County
Commissioner for whom COREY CAUSEWAY was named. Coreytown
is at the eastern end of Corey Causeway at St. Petersburg Beach.
EATONVILLE (Orange County) was named in 1883 for Captain
Joshua C. Eaton, retired paymaster of the navy and first mayor
of nearby Maitland; Eatonville was settled by Negroes, who were
induced by Mayor Eaton and other Maitland citizens to move from
their former section at Lake Lily, known as "St. Johns Hole," to
this place. GALT CITY, in Santa Rosa County, was established about
1885 and named for the Galt family of Louisville, Kentucky, by
the surveyor, Galt Chiplet. The once-famous GANDY BRIDGE across
Tampa Bay (Hillsborough County) was named for the engineer
who built it. Another Negro settlement, GIFFORD (Indian River
County), was named for F. Charles Gifford, prominent resident
of nearby Vero Beach.
Among the hundreds of other interesting personalities for whom
Florida places are named is Dr. Joseph Braden, who came in the
middle of the nineteenth century to Manatee County with his
brother and several other families from Tallahassee after the
crash of the Union Bank there. These adventurers became the
pioneer sugar planters of the area, and Dr. Braden eventually
built a house so impressive that it was called "Braden Castle."
The ruins of it still stand near BRADENTON, and BRADEN CASTLE
DRIVE goes past them. The name of the town was "Braidentown"
when the post office was established in 1878; it later was corrected
to "Bradentown"; and by 1924 it was Bradenton.
But one of the greatest originals of them all is the unbelievable
Zephaniah Kingsley, of a prominent Scottish-American family,
whose niece became James McNeil Whistler's mother, and who
has his name written on Florida's map and his story indelibly
printed in her annals. KINGSLEY, in Clay County, as well as KINGS-
LEY LAKE, on which it is situated, was named for this wealthy
slave trader and plantation owner of the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries. In 1790 Spain granted Kingsley a
tract of land in Clay County; he had a plantation where Orange
Park now stands and was largely responsible for the early develop-
ment of the area. But it was to Fort George Island, in Duval
County, that Zephaniah Kingsley brought his African queen
wife, Anna Madegigine Jai, in 1817. He and "Ma'am Anna," as
the slaves called her, lived for many years on the KINGSLEY PLAN-

TATION, the ruins of which are now one of the tourist sights of
the Jacksonville area. Kingsley was received into the "best" homes,
but his regal black wife, whom he had married in a tribal ritual
in Africa, it is said, was never recognized socially. The story is
one of the most poignantly intriguing of all the romantic Florida
tales. The Kingsley Plantation has recently been added to the
National Register of Historical Sites.
The murdered Dr. Henry Perrine is commemorated in Dade
County in the name of a town called PERRINE. Dr. Perrine was
granted a township of land in Florida by the United States govern-
ment in 1838 in the midst of the Second Seminole War. He con-
ducted tropical plant experiments in Florida (though not on his
grant) until he was killed by Indians in 1840 in the notorious
Indian Key Massacre, one of the bloodiest incidents in Florida's
wild history. Several neighbors shared his gory fate, but Dr.
Perrine's wife and children made a harrowing escape by hiding
in a turtle crawl under their burning house, standing in water
up to their shoulders. Eventually they fled in a boat and were
picked up by a passing schooner.
Story upon story emerges from the names of Florida places
commemorating men. Hundreds of other places in Florida have
been named for men locally prominent, though sometimes we find
that the cause of their prominence is now forgotten and in some
cases even their full names are forgotten. The places themselves
are nearly forgotten, too, sometimes, but most of them exist as
"settlements" or railroad stops if not as full-fledged cities or post
offices. In Appendix A is a list of some three hundred more places
bearing men's names, with as much information about the men
as is available.

The naming of places for individuals seems to have resulted
principally in a map full of names of men. There is, however, a
fairly strong tendency among men in new territory to name
natural features for women; and sometimes cities, post offices,
and other man-made features also receive feminine names. Occa-
sionally places are named, rather impersonally, for famous
women, as in the case of England's Queen Charlotte, already
discussed, or for notorious women, like the mythical Gaspa-
rilla's Joseffa, also already mentioned. More often we find that the

feminine personal names are those of wives, sweethearts, mothers,
or daughters of the namers.
Ordinarily the names honoring women are first names rather
than surnames. Exceptions to this rule in Florida occur in the
names of WIRTLAND (Jefferson County), HOGAN (Duval County),
and SEARS (Hendry County). Wirtland was the plantation of
Captain Lewis W. Goldsborough. He named it for his wife, who
was the daughter of William Wirt, attorney general of the United
States from 1817 to 1829. Hogan was settled by a woman named
Eleanor Hogan in 1813. And Sears was named for the wife of
Richard W. Sears of Sears, Roebuck & Co., because she was prin-
cipal stockholder in the Standard Lumber Company, which estab-
lished the settlement.
ARCADIA, county seat of De Soto County, was named in about
1885 for the daughter of an early settler, Arcadia Albritton.
ARCADIA JUNCTION was an offspring. The name of BELL (Gilchrist
County) was chosen by means of a beauty contest in which the
winner's name was to be given to the new railroad station and
post office (1903). The winner was Bell Fletcher, daughter of
Daniel E. Fletcher, native Floridian and successful county farmer.
Another community belle is remembered in the name of Frank-
lin County's CARRABELLE, named in 1897 for Miss Carrie Hall.
The name conferred at the time was "Rio Carrabelle," roman-
tically enough, but the "Rio" was later dropped for practical
reasons. CHARLOTTE LAKE, in Highlands County, commemorates
Charlotte Bassage, the only child of a man named Bert Bassage.
DORA LAKE (Lake County) was named for Mrs. Dora Ann
Drawdy, who in the 1880s was hospitable to United States govern-
ment surveyors resurveying the Orange County boundaries. In
appreciation, the surveyors named the lake adjoining her land
in her honor. Later the nearby town, called by the interesting
name of "Royellou" when it was established in 1882, in honor of
three pioneer residents, Royal. Ella, and Louis Tremain, was
renamed MOUNT DORA for the lake, which it overlooks from the
summit of a plateau 266 feet above sea level.
LAKE DOT (Lake County) is named for Dorothy Norton. A place
called ELINOR (sometimes spelled Eleanor) in. Holmes County
commemorates the wife of Elton Williams, who operated a saw-
mill there which he called "Elinor's Mill." An old Negro woman
employed by George F. Drew, who became Florida's governor in
1877, is said to be the honoree of the name of ELLAVILLE, in Madi-

son County, where Governor Drew built the largest sawmill in
Florida. Gadsden County's FLORENCE was named in 1880 to honor
Florence Hardee, daughter of Florida senator G. S. Hardee, once
host to President Cleveland during his Florida honeymoon.
Another FLORENCE, this one in St. Johns County, was named for a
daughter of a settler.
LA BELLE, in Hendry County, was named by Captain Francis
Asbury Hendry, for whom the county was named, in honor of
two of his daughters, Laura and Belle; and NORTH LA BELLE came
later. Another man, W. P. Henry, named LAKE GERTRUDE, in Lake
County, for his oldest daughter. LAKE GRACIE (Lake County) re-
members a Grace Pendry. LAKE HELEN, the name of both a town
and a lake in Volusia County, was conferred in honor of Helen
DeLand, daughter of Henry DeLand, for whom the city of DeLand
is named. The town and lake were named by Mr. DeLand him-
self. Two Abrams girls, Irma and Joanna, are commemorated
in the names of LAKE IRMA and LAKE JOANNA, both in Lake County.
LAKE JOSEPHINE, in Highlands County, was named for a little
girl, Josephine Spivey, who lived on the lake. Columbia County's
LULU commemorates the sweetheart of Walter Gillen, a pioneer.
Two young girls are remembered in the name of MARIANNA, in
Jackson County, a town established in 1823 and named for Mary
and Anna, daughters of Robert Beveridge and wife, in whose name
the land was recorded. One other story states that the town was
named for the wives of the two founders.
A small village called LAKE MARY, in Seminole County, was
named after the lake that was named for Mary Randolph, wife
of Major William Randolph. MARY ESTHER, in Okaloosa County,
was named for two women, it is generally believed, though there
is a difference of opinion as to which two women they were; some
say they were the wife and daughter of the Presbyterian minis-
ter, a Professor Newton, who established the place; some say
they were his two daughters. LAKE MERIAL, in Bay County, was
named by another fond father, T. D. Sale, for his daughter; and
LAKE MINERVA, in Lake County, was named for a lady named
Minerva Gottsche, wife or daughter of one Augustus Gottsche,
while a Nettie Morin gave her name to LAKE NETTIE, also in Lake
County. Orange County's NONA LAKE commemorates the daughter
of a pioneer homesteading family. In 1877 Abraham Cavanaugh
established a town in Escambia County which a Mr. Boley named
OLIVE for his wife; and we are told that the United States Post

Office Department named THELMA, in Taylor County, for some
official's lady.
Names can sometimes have a delightful multiple meaning, as
is evidenced in the name of Florida itself and in the name of Char-
lotte County. ST. THERESA, in Franklin County, has a name which
honors a Tallahassee girl while at the same time taking advan-
tage of history to give the name a wider meaning. Theresa Hopkins
was the girl honored; the fact that the seventeenth-century Span-
ish mission of St. Theresa, or Teresa, stood nearby prompted the
"St." part of the name (or was it the other way around?). At any
rate, local lore puts Theresa Hopkins among the women commem-
orated by Florida place-names.
One of the most misleading of Florida place-names to the casual
observer is the name of WIMAUMA, in Hillsborough County. The
invariable assumption is that it is one of the many Indian names
which dot the map. The truth is, however, that this name commem-
orates the three daughters of the first postmaster there. Their
names were Wilma (or Willie), Maude, and Mary; and the name
Wimauma was formed from parts of their names in 1903.

Place-names may commemorate more than people. Sometimes
places are named so that men may remember an event which
happened there. The most famous of such place-names in Florida
is MATANZAS, a Spanish word meaning "slaughters" (see chapter
6). It was written on Florida's map in 1565 by Pedro Menendez
de Avilds, to commemorate his slaughter of the French Huguenots
under Jean Ribault at a place on the south end of Anastasia Island
near what has since been called MATANZAS INLET in St. Johns
County. Now Florida has a MATANZAS RIVER in St. Johns and
Flagler counties as well as the FORT MATANZAS NATIONAL MONU-
MENT on Anastasia Island.
Other names commemorate less famous events-often mere local
incidents. BUCK HORN in Taylor County called to the minds of those
who named it the killing of a buck during a cattle roundup, and
BURNT MILL CREEK commemorated the burning of a sawmill on
the banks of a creek in Bay County. ISTOKPOGA LAKE, in High-
lands County, apparently was named because of a drowning there,
for the word means, in Seminole-Creek, that a person was killed
(isti, "person," poki, "finished"). The town of ISTOKPOGA in the

same county takes its name from the lake. DEERHUNT, in Liberty
County, obviously commemorates a hunt, while the name of
HURRICANE ISLAND, in Bay County, is said to be for a hurricane
that cut the island off from the mainland. Bay County's COURT
MARTIAL, one of the more intriguing names in this category, was
named for a court martial that General Andrew Jackson held
there to try two army deserters; and CANTONMENT, in Escambia
County, recalls that Jackson's troops camped there for a while.
THLA-PAC-HATCHEE CREEK, in Osceola County, is one of several
Indian names of the area which seem to commemorate bloody
events, the meaning of this one being "fallen enemy creek."
Place-names also commemorate the ideas and ideals of the men
who established the places. The county names of Union, Liberty,
and Dixie are of this category, commemorating the common
American ideals of union and freedom, and the regional adher-
ence to a romantic Southern idea. UNION CITY (Union County) and
UNION (Walton County) further commemorate the union ideal,
while other names honoring the American dream of liberty are
LIBERTY POINT (Glades County), LIBERTY (Liberty County),
FREDONIA (Polk County), and FREEPORT (Walton County). Southern
tradition is remembered again in the name of a small place called
DIXIE in Hernando County. Another abstraction is honored in
the names of the PEACE RIVER (or Peace Creek) in Sumter, Polk,
and Manatee counties, and PEACE VALLEY in Polk County. These
names were derived from the Spanish name of the river, which
is shown on the earliest printed map of Florida (about 1587) as
Rio de Pas, meaning "River of Peace." Others include FELLOWSHIP
in Marion County; HARMONY CENTER in Hillsborough County;
PROSPERITY in Holmes County; PROGRESSO in Broward County;
WELCOME and WELCOME JUNCTION in Hillsborough County;
JUNCTION in Volusia County.
Another important category of commemorative place-names
includes those which commemorate places elsewhere. Often when
men settle in new territory they name the new place for the place
they left behind. Thus, a considerable number of Florida place-
names attest to the origin of her settlers, particularly after Florida
became the property of the United States. Other place-names
are transferred because of their pleasant sound to the namers,
as in the case of LA CROSSE, a village in Alachua County. Miss
Marion Futch, daughter of the namer, the late Mrs. John Eli

Futch, relates that in 1876 or 1877 John Futch (her father) and
his brother Henry decided to buy cotton from farmers living
around the Futch plantation; they constructed a small wooden
building in which to store the cotton, which eventually led to the
construction of a larger general store for groceries and dry goods.
Eventually the store became the community's first post office also.
In 1881 John Eli Futch married Harriet Amanda Strickland,
and built a home for them near his store. Shortly thereafter, others
came and built homes around the place. "So my mother said,"
Miss Futch reports, "'This place has got to have a name.' So she
said, 'La Crosse! That is what we will call it. I've always loved the
name of La Crosse, ever since I read about La Crosse, Wisconsin.'"
Such engaging whimsy may be behind other transfer namings.
Sometimes a place is named for another because the new place
is felt to be somehow like the older place. In such cases the names
might justifiably be categorized as descriptive rather than com-
memorative; the several names of Italian cities found on Florida's
map or the names of some Spanish places, conferred on Florida
places both because of a feeling for history and because of Florida's
climatic similarity to parts of Spain, could be discussed as descrip-
tive names. For practical reasons, however, all Florida place-
names transferred from other places will be considered as com-
memorative of those places.
Florida has place-names transferred from almost all, if not all,
of the other forty-nine states, showing the great extent to which
she has served as a haven and a new frontier to those from all
parts of the country. Some of these are listed in Appendix A,
with what information is available concerning the namers and
their reasons.
An especially interesting name is another Wisconsin transfer-
EAU GALLIE, in Brevard County. Reports have persisted for years
that the name is French for "bitter (or salty) water"; the town
is near the salt-water lagoon called Indian River. But although
eau is French for "water," there is apparently no French word
resembling "gallie" which means anything like "bitter" or "salty."
Strangely, the first illuminating clue to Eau Gallie's origin came
from a children's book, Caddie Woodlawn, by Carol Ryrie Brink,
a Newbery Award winner which tells the story of a pioneer Wis-
consin family. They lived near a town called Eau Galle, a name
so like that of the Florida town that a connection seemed inevit-
able. Subsequent correspondence with miscellaneous officials,

including postmasters in both Eau Galle, Wisconsin, and Eau
Gallie, Florida, led eventually to Mr. W. Lansing Gleason of Eau
Gallie, the grandson of William H. Gleason, who came to Florida
from Eau Claire, Wisconsin, which he founded, and established
and named the Florida town. Near Eau Claire was a stream called
the Eau Galle River. Because Mr. Gleason liked the name, his
descendant reports, he gave it to the Florida town he founded
in 1882-Eau Gallie. We can only suppose that Mr. Gleason was
mistaken about the spelling or that it subsequently has changed.
According to the same source, the name is a combination of French
(eau, "water") and Chippewa Indian (gallie, "rocky"), resulting
in "Rocky Water," probably descriptive of the abundant coquina
rock in the area. The postmaster in Eau Galle, Wisconsin, Mr. V.
M. Taylor, says that the Wisconsin name is pronounced exactly
as the Florida one ("Oh-galley"), but he gives a different meaning
for the Wisconsin name-"low water." Mr. Taylor indicates that
the name is all French. If it is, perhaps the French galet ("pebble")
is the original of the Galle part of the name. Its pronunciation,
of course, is very nearly the same-"gal-lay." In any case, Eau
Gallie is clearly a transfer name, commemorating a place in an-
other state because a man from that state cast his lot with that
of Florida a century ago. There are many other such place-names
in Florida (see Appendix A), but no other yielded such an interest-
ing detective story.
Two Florida place-names commemorate Canadian places, and it
is probable that the gold rush of the 1890s was their inspiration.
They are KLONDYKE, in Escambia County, and YUKON, in Duval
Local transfers, or places in Florida named for other places
in Florida, have generally been discussed with the original name
(as Micanopy Junction, discussed with Micanopy). It should be
mentioned here, however, that this is another category of place-
names commemorating places. GLEN ST. MARY (Baker County),
for example, was named in the 1880s for the St. Marys River,
which had been named Rio de Santa Maria by the Spanish and
translated to St. Mary's River by the English. Also, a number
of places in Florida have been named for the state itself: FLORIDA
BAY (Monroe County), FLORIDA CITY (Dade County), FLORIDA TOWN
(Santa Rosa County), CAPE FLORIDA (Dade County), the FLORIDA
RIVER (Liberty County), and the FLORIDA KEYS, the general name
for the chain of islands extending from Biscayne Bay to Key West

and beyond. A town named for another town nearby is NEW PORT
RICHEY (Pasco County), named for "old" PORT RICHEY about a
mile away, which was named for its postmaster. Another local
transfer is STETSON, in Volusia County, named for STETSON
UNIVERSITY in nearby DeLand.
The number and variety of Florida place-names commem-
orating places in other countries is indicative both of the cosmo-
politan nature of her population and settlement history and of
the exotic appeal of her climate, topography, and romantic history.
Some of her names from Mediterranean and tropical lands were
given for romantic reasons, and other foreign names were given
because her settlers wanted to commemorate their homelands.
Appendix A contains a list of Florida place-names given to com-
memorate older places in other lands, with whatever information
is available concerning reasons for the transfers. More than thirty
countries are represented in this sample of ninety-seven names,
with most of the transfer names, predictably, coming from Britain
(chiefly England and Scotland), and from Spain and Italy. The
names have been brought from every continent of the world, how-
ever, as the list in Appendix A will show. Its astonishing variety
is typically Floridian-and typically American, of course-though
the weighting of the particular imported names differs from state
to state. In Florida's commemorative names, whether they honor
people, events, ideas and ideals, or other places, we read a story
distinctively her own.

"Many Pleasant Groves"

AN OUTSTANDING PHENOMENON of Florida place-names is the
extent to which they describe Florida. An unusually large number
of place-names-beginning with the name Florida itself ("because
it appeared very delightful, having many pleasant groves . .")-
tell what kind of place the state is, what trees and flowers grow
there, and what natural resources and conditions have molded
its destiny. Though descriptive names are common in every state,
it would perhaps not be an exaggeration to say that Florida, a
state whose prosperity has depended to an unusual extent upon
certain of its natural conditions, has described these conditions
in its place-names rather more than most states have done. The
place-naming in this category has often been a form of adver-
tising, so that few of the names recently bestowed are descriptive
of the state's worst features, and some of the names which hinted
of undesirable conditions have been changed during the American
period. An example is the change of Mosquito County in 1824 to
Orange County, the first feature being one of which Florida did
not care to boast, while the second is one in which Floridians take
great pride. Taking all the existing names together, however,
we can form a fairly accurate picture of Florida's climate, situa-
tion, and topography. The names also describe to some extent the
activities and occupations of the people.
The descriptive place-names fall into three major categories:
those which describe the flora of Florida; those which describe


the fauna; and those which describe general climatic, situational,
and topographical conditions and the occupations and activities
growing out of such natural features and conditions. In the discus-
sion which follows, examples of place-names in each category and
subcategory are given. Additional descriptive names are listed
in Appendix B.



It is no surprise to find that citrus trees have given rise to more
Florida place-names than has any other single kind of plant.
Since early Spanish times the orange tree has flourished in
Florida, with wild orange trees abounding along the east coast
before the disastrous freeze at the turn of the century. Today the
state is the nation's leading producer of citrus and citrus products.
The conspicuousness of the orange tree and other citrus trees on
the peninsula of Florida is evidenced in the names of two of its
counties, Orange and Citrus, as has been noted. Additional names
proclaim it variously in English and in several other languages.
The dead language of the ancient Romans gives us AURANTIA, the
name of a place in Brevard County. Aurantia is the plural of the
botanical designation for a fruit of the orange species, Citrus
aurantium (the Seville, or sour, orange). Aurantia was established
for citrus cultivation in 1882 by the Bliss Company of New York.
YALAHA, in Lake County, received its name from the Seminole-
Creek word for "orange," while the name of ILLAHAW, in Osceola
County, is another form of the same word. And it would be strange
if the Spanish word for "orange" had not been used; so we find
NARANJA in Dade County. These names, both Indian and Spanish,
were given by later Americans who honored Florida's past.
CITRA, in Marion County, was so named by a committee in 1881
because citrus production was the principal industry there. The
Mandarin orange, brought to Duval County from China, gave
its name in 1841 to the village of MANDARIN in that county, while
settlements called SATSUMA, in Jackson and Putnam counties,
were named for a variety of orange also. Volusia County's SEVILLE
got its name from the small wild Seville orange which flourished
in that section. The Seville orange was imported to Florida by
early Spaniards. Another variety of orange is honored in the name

of TEMPLE TERRACE, in Hillsborough County, where groves of
Temple oranges were planted by the founders in 1921.
Places in Orange and Putnam counties are called TANGERINE,
for the small, sweet, and easily peeled citrus fruit by that name;
and the lemon is the namesake for LEMON CITY, in Dade County,
where a large lemon grove flourished when the place was named
in the late nineteenth century. And LIMONA, established between
1835 and 1842 in Hillsborough County, got its name from the
Spanish lim6n ("lemon").
Among the somewhat disguised citrus place-names is MONT-
VERDE, in Lake County, so named for the hills of citrus groves
which surrounded the town site at the time of naming. The town
was established in 1885; its name means "green mountain." Other
not-so-obvious citrus names include the many "fruit" names:
FRUIT COVE, in St. Johns County, named in 1871; FRUIT CREST,
in Palm Beach County; FRUITA, in Marion County; FRUITLAND,
established in Putnam County in 1856; FRUITLAND PARK, in Lake
County; and so on. "Grove" is still another synonym for "citrus"
in Florida place-names, as in the name of Lake County's GROVE-
LAND, named in 1911 for the citrus groves there, and in the names
of other Florida places, though some of the "grove" names were
inspired by the oak tree.
And there are many places whose names frankly include the
words "citrus" and "orange," such as Alachua County's ORANGE
HEIGHTS, named for an orange grove on a hill, and Clay County's

Some have said that Florida's continuing prosperity has been due
largely to two trees, the orange and the pine. Her place-names con-
firm the assertion, for the pine tree is very close to the orange
tree in the number of place-names it has inspired in the state.
That the pine tree has been a noticeable feature of the Florida
landscape since discovery days is evidenced in the name of Pinellas
County, evolved from the early Spanish Punta Pinal ("pine grove
point"), which designated the peninsula now forming the greater
part of the county. The pine names have doubled and redoubled
through the years, until a sizeable list of them can now be com-
It includes BAY PINES, in Pinellas County; BIG PINE, in Monroe

County; PINE POINT, in Dixie County; and countless other names
for stations, creeks, and settlements with the word "pine" in them.
The name of SAPLINGS, in Flagler County, presents a variation,
as does that of WOODVILLE, in Leon County, given for the pine
woods there. PINEOLA (Citrus County) and PINETTA (Madison
County) represent attempts to use the pine tree's name creatively.

The prominence of the citrus and pine trees and their importance
to Florida's economy cannot be denied, but there are many who
would guess that the palm-symbol of tropical leisure and lazy
vacation living-has been more significant still. It is the palm
which appears on the Great Seal of the State of Florida, and by
an act of the 1953 legislature the Sabal palm (the native "cabbage
palm" or "swamp cabbage") was made the state tree.
It is safe to say that of all her trees the palm is most symbolic
of Florida in the American mind, for it is the palm which makes
Florida scenery distinctly Floridian. Even with her green trees
that "wave us globes of gold," her landscape might seem merely
southern without the distinctive palm tree, which tells of her
character as a vacation land and refuge from winter as no other
growing thing could.
It is natural, then, that her place-names have honored the palm
tree extensively. One of her counties has "palm" in its name-
Palm Beach County-and many other places (towns, cities,
streams, swamps, and "wide places in the road") have names which
are tributes to this decorative plant so characteristic of the state.
CABBAGE CREEK, in Putnam County, and CABBAGE ISLAND, in
Pinellas County, are two which honor the swamp cabbage, or
Sabal palm. COCOA and COCOA BEACH, in Brevard County, are
named for the cocoa, or coconut, palm, as is COCONUT GROVE, in
Dade County. Manatee County's PALMA SOLA ("lonesome palm")
is romantically named for a lone palm on an outlying key. Martin
County has a PALM CITY, and Manatee a PALMETTO. And these are
only a sample of Florida's many existing palm names.

The testimony of the palm names, describing Florida as a tropical
paradise, is summarily contradicted by the oak names, which rise

up in almost equal numbers to proclaim her a temperate one.
Actually, of course, Florida is in the temperate zone, but her
situation there is such that her climate has been frequently charac-
terized as subtropical, and her vegetation is a mixture which
announces her transitional position. Thus the appearance of the
palm and the oak in such balanced proportion among her place-
names constitutes a true description and is more logical than it
LIVE OAK, the name of the county seat of Suwannee County, was
given in 1885 for a majestic live oak under which section hands
who were laying the railroad were accustomed to eat their lunch.
RED OAK, in Madison County, was named in about 1869 for the
magnificent red oak which shaded the country store in which the
post office was established. Two other varieties of oaks growing
in Florida are the namesakes for WHITEOAK, in Liberty County,
and WATER OAK CREEK, in Bradford County, while numerous other
place-names of Florida include the word "oak" in combination
with "hill," "land," "grove," and the like. In Collier County a
slightly elevated ridge grown with scattered oaks is called by the
Seminoles SEHA-LEGGE, which we are told is derived from the
Creek seca ("black jack" or "scrub oak") and laiki ("site").
Spanish Moss.-Wherever the oak tree is found, there abounds
the Spanish moss, that gray mist that drapes the wooded Florida
landscape in mystery and has given rise to legendary tales among
both Indians and later settlers. Spanish moss, an air plant, is not
peculiar to Florida, for it grows throughout much of the South,
but it is particularly evident in this state; and though it attaches
itself to other trees, it is especially luxuriant among the limbs of
the oak tree. Place-names of Florida have honored the drooping
moss. There is, for example, MOSS BLUFF, in Marion County, a
place established before 1888 and named to describe the moss-
draped trees nearby. And there is MOSSDALE, in Volusia County,
established about 1858 and named for the same reason. MOSSY-
HEAD, in Walton County, also got its name from the hundreds of
moss-laden oaks in the vicinity.

The cedar tree, as anyone could tell from place-names alone,
is a part of the Florida landscape too. CEDAR KEYS, in Levy County,
is on one of the CEDAR KEYS, or islands, and was named for them.


Abaioa, 140-41
Abbott, 101. See also Zephyrhills
Aberdeen, 173
Achackweithle, 201. See also
Prospect Bluff
Achan, 132
Achatto, 143
Acline, 6, 195
Adam, 133
Adams Mill Creek, 102
Agricola, 180
Aguada, 144
Ahapopka (A-ha-pop-ka), 97.
See also Apopka
Alabama Hollow, 164
Alabama Junction, 164
Alachua, 6, 195
Alachua County, 36
Aladdin City, 9, 136
Alafia, 180
Alafia River, 180
Alamana, 151
Alapaha River, 93
Alapata (Alapattah) Flats, 93
Alaqua Creek, 180
Albion, 171
Aldrich Lake, 151
Alford, 151
Alimacani, 140-41
Allanton, 71
Allapattah, 93
Allendale, 151
Allenhurst, 151
Alliance, 101

Alligator, 93
Alligator Bay, 5, 93
Alligator Creek, 93
Alligator Lake, 93
Alligator Reef, 93
Alomato, 141
Alsace, 171
Altamonte Springs, 104
Altoona, 168
Alturas, 6, 195
Alva, 180
Amelia City, 52
Amelia Island, 52
Amelia River, 52
Anastasia, 130
Anastasia Island, 130
Anastasia State Park, 130
Anclote, 98
Anclote Keys, 98
Anclote River, 98
Andalusia, 5, 174
Andalusia Post Office, 202. See also
Shell Bluff
Angel Fish Key, 97
Anona, 181
Anoty Place, 151. See also Anthony
Anthony, 151
Antioch, 132
Apalachee Bay, 50
Apalachicola, 50, 141
Apalachicola Bay, 50
Apalachicola River, 50, 105
Apalachie, 141
Apopka, 97, 187
Apopka Lake, 97
Apoxsee, 126
Apple Creek, 88
Arcadia, 75, 135

Arcadia Junction, 75
Archer, 66
Argyle, 173
Ariel, 168
Aripeka, 48-49
Arlington, 169
Arno, 66
Arredondo, 43-44
Arredondo Street, 43-44
Artesia, 104
Ashton, 151
Ashton Station, 151. See also
Asile River, 127. See also Aucilla
Assilly River, 127. See also Aucilla
Astor, 67
Astor Junction, 15' 155
Astor Park, 67
Athena, 134
Atlantic Beach, 98
Atlantic Beach Heights, 188
Atseenahoofa, 91. See also Big
Cypress Swamp
Atseenatopho, 91. See also Wide
Cypress Swamp
Atsena Otie, 92. See also Depot Key
Attapulgus Creek, 88
Auburn, 164
Auburndale, 166
Aucilla, 127
Aucilla River, 127
Audubon, 69
Augusta, 169
Aurantia, 5, 83
Aute, 141-42
Avalon, 136
Avon Park, 171
Aycock, 151
Ayubale, 142
Azucar, 6, 101

B. Tampa, 108-9. See also Tampa
Babson Park, 68

Bacica, 127. See also Wacissa
Bagdad, 137
Bagdad Junction, 137
Bahia, 6, 188
Bahia de Carlos, 15. See also
Charlotte County
Bahia Honda Key, 98, 189
Bahia Santa Maria de Galvez, 129.
See also St. Marys River
Bailey, 151-52
Bailey's Mills, 159. See also Lloyd
Baker County, 27-28, 61
Baker Mill, 152
Baldwin, 62-63
Bal Harbour, 7, 111
Ballast Point, 102
Bamboo, 5, 88
Bamboo Key, 181
Banana River, 88
Banyan, 5, 88
Barberville, 152
Bare Beach, 195
Barrineau Park, 152
Barth, 152
Bartow, 66, 146
Bascom, 152
Basket Lake, 104
Baya de Bayos, 144
Baya de S. Ioseph, 129, 144
Baya de Sp6 Santo, 144
Bayard, 61
Bayboro, 188
Bay County, 35, 97
Bay Harbor, 188
Bay Harbor Islands, 188
Bay Harbour, 111. See also Bal
Bayhead, 188
Bay Hill, 181
Bay Mulat, 199. See also Mulat
Bayou, 188
Bayou George, 152
Bay Pines, 84
Bayport, 6, 188
Bay Ridge, 181
Bayshore, 188

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