Download History - St. Simons Island PROLOGUE THE INDIANS

History - St. Simons Island
PROLOGUE
Massive shiftings of the earth's crust gave birth, more than two
hundred million years ago, to the Appalachian Mountains. Erosion
eventually wore away much of the range; its rock, reduced to
pebbles and sand, washed eastward to the sea. Over millions of
years, a submerged sandy plain was gradually deposited along the
Atlantic shore. Part of this coastal sediment became the foundation
of Georgia's barrier sea islands.
About two million years ago, the earth's sea level began to fluctuate.
The oceans rose and fell hundreds of feet as a series of great ice
sheets, covering much of the globe, formed, thawed and formed
again. Each successive glaciation left the sea level a bit lower than
the previous freeze. Barrier islands developed from the exposed
ridges of the coastal plain and then were submerged as the sea rose
again. Geological traces of these former barrier island chains can be
found as far as eighty miles inland from the coast.
The last great ice age ended about eighteen thousand years ago and,
as the glaciers melted, the sea began to rise to its present level. The
sandy ridge that became St. Simons Island was isolated from the
mainland by a lagoon that formed on its landward side. Wind,
The Atlantic
waves and the tides layered the ridge with more sand. Seeds found
the environment favorable and the shifting dunes were anchored by
sturdy roots. The lagoon in the lee of the island slowly filled with sediment and a great salt marsh formed. Tidal
streams nurtured the marsh and created a rich environment for the myriad water creatures that thrived there.
Mainland animals crossed the marsh to complement the balance of living things on the island and, in time, were
joined by man.
THE INDIANS
Just north of the village on St. Simons Island is a park of stately live oaks. On the southern edge of the oaks, along a
narrow lane, is a low earthen mound. Growing upon it are three majestic oak trees serving as a natural monument for
the more than thirty Indians buried in the mound. The men, women and children interred under these oaks lived in a
settlement that flourished on this site two centuries before the first white man touched shore.
The first inhabitants of St. Simons made this island their own some two thousand years before the time of Christ. No
one knows what they first called themselves. Eventually they became known as the Timucuans - the name that has
persisted to our own time. Part of the Mississippian culture that flourished over much of the Southeast, the eastern
Timucuans ranged along the coastal plain of southeast Georgia and northern Florida. Their complex society was
made up of seven distinct tribal groups that spoke at least five dialects.
St. Simons Island was the northern boundary of the tribal
province known as Mocama - its name taken from that of
the local dialect - that extended southward to the St. Johns
River. The town of Guadalquini was located on the south
end of the island at the site of the present day lighthouse,
and the town's name also applied to the island itself. Just
above Mocama was the territory of the Guales, occupying
the coastal fringe between the Altamaha and Ogeechee
Rivers. The Guales spoke quite a different language but
were inextricably linked with their Timucuan neighbors
and destined to share a common fate in the final drama that
awaited them both.
These coastal Indians were a healthy and robust people.
They were quite fond of adorning their bodies with strings
of shell beads four to six fingers in breadth that were worn
The Marsh
around the neck, arms, wrists, and under the knees and
ankles. They painted their breasts, biceps and thighs with bright red body paint, soot and charcoal. Both men and
women wore their hair long. They let both their fingernails and toenails grow, and the men would sharpen their
fingernails on one side, an advantage in warfare. It was not uncommon for the Indians to engage in periodic warfare
with their coastal neighbors as much for sport as for spoils, with violent ball games sometimes substituted for war.
As for their clothing: deerskin breechclouts sufficed for the men in all but the coldest weather, moss skirts were
preferred by the women.
The Indians' main source of food was the sea, which yielded sheepshead, sea catfish, drum, shellfish and the great
Atlantic sturgeon. Their diet was supplemented by small game such as raccoons, opossum and the white-tailed deer.
They also grew pumpkins, beans and corn, which they ground into meal, and gathered nuts, grapes and berries.
During spring and summer, the Indians gathered in villages and planted crops, hunted and fished until harvest. The
villages included granaries, a large communal structure and family shelters made of saplings and boughs covered
with palmetto fronds. The chief usually possessed a larger dwelling than his tribesmen. They used a wide range of
bone tools; conch shells served as hoes and hammers.
Corn was harvested in the fall and the surplus was stored in the large village granaries. Several times a year this food
was redistributed in ritualized festivals; after the fall redistribution ceremony, the Indians dispersed into small
groups abandoning the village pattern until the following spring. They ranged along the coast, from inland pine and
river valley forest on the mainland to the high hammock forests, tidal flats, beach and dunes of the barrier islands.
The group lodged in temporary shelters of large, oval-shaped pavilions, moving on when game and fish were no
longer plentiful. When food was scarce, a hunter could hunt or fish in territory belonging to the village of his wife.
The Indians were governed by territorial and local chieftains known as "caciques" (Mocama) and "micos" (Guale)
and by lesser-ranking functionaries within each of the coastal villages. They developed a matrilineal society, with
hereditary power passed through the mother. The chiefs were required to marry a commoner, therefore a sister or
nephew inherited the title. Governing power was based on the storage of corn - hence control of the food supply in
lean times - cultivated by labor tribute from the subordinate villages. Along with their political power, the caciques
and micos enjoyed the right to have more than one wife; monogamy seemed to be the norm for the rest of the
population.
Unfortunately, little has been recorded of the Timucuan religion. As for the Guales, we are limited to a single
account by a Dominican who recorded it third hand. Guale mythology seems to have embraced the origin and
destiny of the soul, and the communal atonement of sin. Their major deities were Mateczunga, god of the north, and
Quexuga, god of the south. The Guales believed that all souls originated in the north, lingered briefly on earth, then
departed to the realm of Quexuga. The Spanish were fascinated by one particular ceremony with religious
connotations: the drinking of the "black drink" brewed from the berries of the cassina tree. After drinking this potent
beverage, "their bellies swelled and vomiting followed" cleansing the body of the participant.
Knowledge of the Timucuan and Guale way of life prior to European contact is limited by the paucity of the
archeological record and the subjective observations of the early explorers and missionaries. From all indications,
however, they were becoming more settled at the time of European contact. As to the direction that their cultural
evolution may have led, we can only speculate. For with the arrival of European civilization, the Timucuan and
Guale cultures were doomed to extinction.
THE SPANISH
By the mid-Sixteenth Century, Spain had come into her own as the most powerful nation on earth and had
thoroughly staked out her claim in the New World. For the quest of gold and the glory of God, mighty Spain held
sway over vast parts of South America, Mexico and the Caribbean. As for her rivals, England was just finding the
confidence with her new virgin queen, Elizabeth, to challenge Spanish domination; France was wracked with civil
war between the Catholics and Protestants. But in the next few decades, the land of the Mocama and Guale would
play a significant role in shaping the colonial aspirations of each of these European powers as they fought for a
toehold in North America.
The Spanish came first. Ponce de Leon claimed the southern region for Spain in 1513, and Hernando de Soto probed
western Georgia in 1540. But it was the French who prompted Spain to settle the area on a permanent basis and, as
is so often the case in the affairs of men, religious fervor was the motive for the early colonial effort.
Protestants of France, known as the "Huguenots," were rebelling against the Catholics. The French queen was
determined to end the bloodshed and strife and reasoned that a colony in the New World could serve as a haven for
the persecuted Huguenots as well as a base for raiding the treasure fleets of Spain.
She selected Jean Ribault to head an exploratory expedition that landed at the mouth of the St. Johns River near
present-day Jacksonville, Florida, in 1562. He called it the "River May," and as he sailed northward as far as Parris
Island, South Carolina, St. Simons Island became the "Ile de Loire." Rene Laudonniere led a second expedition of
three ships and three hundred colonists in 1564. They, too, landed at the St. Johns River, and immediately began
work on Fort Caroline. Two ships were sent back for more supplies and additional colonists.
All of this did not go unnoticed by Philip II of Spain. He picked the ablest of his naval commanders, Pedro
Menéndez de Aviles and gave him full power to destroy the French heretics who had dared to encroach on Spanish
territory. With a small fleet, Menéndez landed forty miles south of Fort Caroline in August 1565. From this new
base that he named St. Augustine, Menéndez attacked and destroyed the fledgling French colony. He then captured
and executed Ribault and most of the survivors of the French relief expedition that had shipwrecked just south of St.
Augustine. With them died France's last hope for a colony on the Atlantic coast.
Although the French threat was neutralized, Menéndez realized that further steps must be taken to prevent future
incursions. He traveled northward from St. Augustine in 1566 to meet with the most powerful chief in the area, the
mico of Guale (St. Catherines Island). The mico was called "Guale" as well, and soon the Spanish adapted the name
to the mico, his people and the land itself.
During the meeting with the Guales, Menéndez had the good fortune to have a drought-ending rainstorm erupt just
after he erected a cross on St. Catherines Island. This awesome display of power by the Spanish leader made the
Guales much more receptive to the Jesuit missionaries that followed. This land of the Guales was soon to become a
district in the Spanish province of La Florida.
Spain's roots were inexorably entwined with the Catholic faith, and her colonizing and conquering armies were
accompanied by men of the cloth. The Jesuits, respected throughout Europe for their piety as well as their scholastic
achievement, were selected to convert the Indians of Guale. After an unsuccessful attempt to establish a mission in
the province of La Florida, Father Sedaño and Father Báez were assigned to the district of Guale. Father Báez
rapidly learned the Guale language and reportedly wrote a grammar, the first book written in the New World.
Nevertheless, the Indians embraced the new faith reluctantly. Father Sedaño, after spending fourteen months in
Guale along with three other priests of less tenure, could claim only seven Indian baptisms: four children and three
dying adults.
It was frustrating for Indians and missionaries alike. The Jesuits were dedicated and capable men, totally committed
to their task, but even the most zealous were discouraged in those early days. Father Rogel shares the frustrations as
he writes about the neighboring district of Orista just to the north:
The Indians were so reluctant to receive the Catholic religion that no admonitions would curb their barbarity - a
barbarity based on liberty unrestrained by the yoke of reason and made worse because they had not been taught to
live in villages. They were scattered about the country nine of the twelve months of the year, so that to influence
them at all one missionary was needed for each Indian.
The dedicated Jesuits tried desperately to deal with the nomadic wandering of their Indian charges. Father Rogel
followed one group for twenty leagues (roughly sixty miles), offering presents, gifts and adornments to entice them
to return to their newly built village and cornfields, but to no avail.
Although these earnest men continued their efforts, by 1570 their failure was acknowledged by the colonial
government. Several of the Guale missionary contingents were sent to Virginia where they were massacred by
Indians. The remaining Guale missionaries were ordered to Mexico City the following year. Although their efforts
had come to an ignominious end, their sacrifices paved the way for the Franciscans who followed.
A few Franciscan priests arrived in 1573. Most of them were killed and the survivors recalled. The next ten years
saw sporadic and bloody confrontations between Spanish soldiers and Indians in Mocama and Guale. But the
Spanish government had more to contend with than the conversion of the Indians. In 1586, Sir Francis Drake
destroyed St. Augustine. The English seadog's raid was a timely reminder to the Spanish that their grip upon Florida
was fragile at best, and more Franciscans were soon on the way to the fledgling province. The first permanent
Franciscan mission - establishing the Mocama missionary province - was in place by 1587 under Father Baltasár
Lopéz.
In 1593, a dozen friars arrived in Cuba, six of
whom were sent to Guale. One missionary each
was assigned to the mainland villages of
Tolomato, Tupiqui, Santo Domingo de
Talaje/Asajo, and Talapo, while two were sent to
Guale (St. Catherines Island).
The priests worked diligently to learn the
Timucuan and Guale languages, and in return
demanded that the Indians learn by rote the
Catholic ceremonies in Latin. The Ave Maria, the
Credo and the Pater Nostra were memorized by
constant repetition. But the frequent Spanish
religious and national holidays were only
frustrating and confusing to the Indians, as they
were encouraged to work one day and prevented
from working the next. The practice of polygamy
was also abolished, prompting the complaint that
"they take away our women, leaving us only the
one perpetual [sic], forbidding us to exchange
her." These and other aggravations prompted the
violence that loomed just ahead for the
Franciscans.
As the priests made more and more intrusions
into the way of life of the Indians, resentment
built up in some who chafed under the new ways.
Juanillo, the son of a mico, became incensed
when the Franciscans interfered with his
succession after his father's death. The priests
picked the older and milder-mannered Don
Francisco over the petulant and quarrelsome
Spanish Missions circa 1655
Juanillo. The infuriated Juanillo responded by
galvanizing opposition to the missionaries and
leading the recalcitrant Indians in revolt. Juanillo and a small group of his father's followers killed Father Corpa at
Tolomato on September 13, 1597. Father Rodrigues of Tupiqui was killed three days later, after being permitted to
sing his last mass. The following day, the two priests of the Guale mission on St. Catherines Island, Father Miguel
de Auñon and Father Antonio de Badajoz, were clubbed to death after ignoring warnings, by friendly Indians, of the
insurrection.
At Asajo, Father Francisco de Velascola was absent, away on a visit to St. Augustine. The Indians, much afraid of
his physical strength and huge stature, agreed that he must be killed. So this gentle monk was ambushed on the
riverbank when he returned, and his body savagely mutilated. Father Francisco Dávila of the Talapo mission was
wounded and captured. He escaped, but was recaptured and sent to the interior as a slave.
Flushed with the success of their insurrection, some four hundred Indians in forty canoes attacked San Pedro, the
Mocama mission on Cumberland Island. A loyal chief, Don Juan, rallied the mission Indians and killed many of the
attackers.
Meanwhile, a messenger was sent to Governor Canzo in St. Augustine who sent a relief force of 150 infantry that
exacted a terrible revenge for the murders of the Franciscans. His small force ranged the length and breadth of
Guale, razing the villages and storehouses, burning the corn in the fields and destroying all canoes that had been
found. Canzo was unable to catch the rebels. He retreated to St. Augustine along with Chief Don Juan and his people
and the surviving friars, leaving Guale a smoking ruin.
Almost a year after this bloody upheaval, a Spanish scouting party near St. Elena heard rumors that Father Dávila
was still alive. Under threats of harsh reprisals, the Indians released Dávila. The friar had been starved, beaten,
threatened with burning, used for archery practice and as a scarecrow in the fields. The Spanish captured seven
young boys, four of whom were the sons of micos, and took them to St. Augustine. The oldest of the boys, a
seventeen-year old named Lucas, was found guilty of being present at Father Rodrigues' murder, but the others were
released because of their age. Lucas was tortured and hung - the only legal justice exacted by the courts of mighty
Spain for the Juanillo revolt.
But the rebels were still at large, and Governor Canzo was determined to exterminate them. The Indian tribes north
of Guale were urged to make war on the rebels, and Canzo issued orders that all Guale Indians captured would be
enslaved. This decree, however, was judged to harsh by his superiors and was revoked.
The Spanish scorched-earth policy was ultimately successful. Severe drought compounded the Spanish destruction
and by 1600 some of the important micos, their people facing imminent starvation, were ready to come to terms.
The town of Tolomato refused to yield, however, and Asajo became the main village of Spanish influence. With his
new power, the mico of Asajo led a successful expedition against Tolomato, after which more villages returned to
the Spanish flock.
Juanillo still held out, aided oddly enough by his former rival Don Francisco. The two rebel chiefs and their
remaining followers retreated to the interior stockaded village of Yfusinique. The mico of Asajo, Don Domingo, led
an attack upon the town. After a fierce fight, the scalps of Juanillo and Don Francisco were sent back to St.
Augustine. Don Domingo was made head mico of all Guale after his victory.
Thus the Juanillo rebellion was crushed, and the Spanish were once again masters of the land. But the ferocity of the
revolt and the three years it took to extinguish the Indian spirit caused many in the colonial government to question
the wisdom of maintaining a missionary presence in Mocama and Guale. The winning of heathen souls was proving
to be a costly endeavor. To justify the expense, the crown ordered an investigation by the governor of Cuba, which
quieted the missionaries' detractors, and future Spanish presence was insured.
Governor Canzo, determined to make the province an anchor of the Spanish empire, threw himself into improving
the coastal missions. In 1603, he made an inspection tour of the Guale district, rebuilding the missions and
cementing Indian loyalty. He was transferred soon after the tour, but his replacement, Governor Pedro de Iberra, was
just as eager to develop both Mocama and Guale. Iberra toured the districts in 1604, and promised the Indians that
more friars would be forthcoming. With the consolidation of Indian fealty, the way was paved for the first visit of a
bishop on Mocama and Guale soil. Bishop Altimoreno arrived in St. Augustine in mid-March, 1606. He traveled for
two months throughout the two districts and confirmed over one thousand souls.
The attentions of two governors and a bishop assured more friars for Mocama and Guale. From 1606 to 1655 the
Spanish missionary effort reached its zenith as the Franciscan missions reflected a steady growth. San Buenaventura
de Guadalquini was established on St. Simons, San Jose de Zapala on Sapelo Island, and Santiago de Ocone near the
Okefenokee Swamp. Now Spain had a total of ten Mocama and Guale missions. Apparently conversions had
increased dramatically, too. By 1617 Governor Iberra could report that although half the Christian Indians had died
of pestilence, some eight thousand were still alive.
Despite the growth of the numbers of missionaries and converts, the conditions in which the Franciscans carried out
their duties remained harsh. The main source of funds to support the mission effort was intestate properties of the
colonies and deceased traders' estates unclaimed in Seville, the Spanish seaport link to the New World. Often ill
clothed and hungry, friars rarely reached old age. Few ever saw their native Spain again; most succumbed to the
hardships of their calling.
Primary emphasis was placed on spiritual conversion rather than colonizing for material gain; accordingly, there was
no trade, no guns permitted, and very few skills taught. Horses had been introduced to La Florida, and some had
been given to caciques and micos. But cattle were not made available for fear that crops would be eaten by them and
the temptation for thievery would be too great. The most discernible changes resulting from Spanish contact were
reflected only in pot manufacturing and the replacing of conch shell hoes with those made of iron. Spain's failure to
supply attractive and practical trade goods (such as flints, mirrors, silver or brass ornaments) gave the English the
advantage in the final conflict for Mocama and Guale that loomed ahead.
Apart from the Indians' decimation from disease - their numbers were reduced by 95% within a century of European
contact - the death knell was sounded for the Spanish missions in 1661 when the "Chichimeco" Indians destroyed
the mainland Guale town of Asajo. These fierce slave raiders, armed by the English in Virginia to ensure a steady
supply of Indian slaves, migrated southward in the 1650s, preying on weaker tribes.
The disruptions of the Spanish missions did not abate. In the next few tumultuous years the Guales reestablished
Asajo on the northern end of St. Simons Island (Cannons Point site). The "Yamassees" of coastal South Carolina,
also fleeing the Chichimecos, established the refugee towns of San Simón (Fort Frederica site) and Octonico, 2-1/2
miles below, on the inland side of the island.
Charles II of England granted to eight Lords Proprietors all the land between Virginia and La Florida (31° -36° N) in
1663. This threat was sharpened in 1670 when Charles Town was settled. By 1675, only four Guale mission towns
remained. The two Mocama missions left were widely separated and the intervening coast settled by unconverted
Yamassees. The probability of attack from the English and the Indians loyal to them was now a constant fear to the
Spanish. That fear was realized at its worst when the Chichimecos returned in 1680 to attack the towns of Santa
Catalina and San Simón. The confusion and helplessness of the missionary and refugee Indians mounted as English
pirates terrorized the Mocama and Guale coast in 1683. The following year, San Buenaventura de Guadalquini was
ransacked and burned by pirates, and St. Simons Island was abandoned forever by the Timucuans who, for untold
centuries, had called it their own.
In 1686, the English settled Port Royal, South Carolina - the old Spanish outpost of St. Elena. The Spanish
responded by destroying the settlement, burning the English governor's mansion, and threatening Charles Town
itself. It was a final, futile gesture. Most of the remaining Mocama and Guale Indians had already abandoned the
missions and retreated southward to the St. Augustine area, to be eventually absorbed by the Yamassees. After
almost a century and a quarter under the cross and sword of Spain, the Mocama and Guale Indians were no more their land soon to be known as Georgia.
THE ENGLISH - THE BEGINNING
In the first decade of the Eighteenth Century, the
Englishmen of South Carolina were still uneasy about the
security of their southern border. Spain continued to press
her claim to the lands south of the Savannah River. The
Yamassee War of 1715 heightened English insecurities.
Abused by dishonest traders and crowded by everincreasing settlers, the frustrated Yamassees rose against
their former Carolina allies and initiated a blood bath that
was put down with matching ferocity by the colonists.
The ever-present Spanish menace in St. Augustine and the
fear of encirclement by the French coming down the
Mississippi and seeking an outlet to the Atlantic prompted
the Carolinians to build Fort King George in 1721, at the
The Fort at Frederica
mouth of the Altamaha River just above St. Simons Island.
This lonely outpost was abandoned in 1727 because of its expense and a mutinous garrison. The southern boundary
of South Carolina was still undecided.
While the Carolinians were fretting about their frontier, many at home in England were more concerned about how
the colonies might fit in with the "mercantile ideology" that was a prominent topic of the day. This pragmatic
economic philosophy called for producing in the American colonies raw materials that would be processed and
manufactured in Britain. Entrepreneurs soon appeared with grand schemes to tap the riches of the New World.
Sir Robert Montgomery published promotional literature in 1717 on the "Margravate of Azilia . . . the most
delightful country in the universe.'" From the King, he acquired rights to the land between the Savannah and
Altamaha Rivers; but, aside from creating considerable interest in the area, his far-fetched dreams of colonial empire
were never realized.
In 1721 a Swiss, John Pierre Purry, also turned his attention to the Savannah River region. He proposed that
refugees from the Protestant states populate the colony and become British subjects. And it was Purry who first
suggested that this region formerly known as Florida should be called "Georginia" or "Georgia." He eventually
founded a settlement of Swiss emigrants on the Savannah River in 1732. In a less idealistic vein, Joshua Gee in 1729
published the Trade and Navigation of Great Britain Considered, which called for the removal of "convicts,
vagrants, and useless people" to the colonies.
As the dreamers were waxing euphoric about the new colony in Georgia, a great depression gripped England.
Thousands were jobless - particularly in London. Even the well to do were suffering from the economic malaise, and
the debtors' prisons were overflowing.
It took an idealistic young member of Parliament to raise a hue and cry about the abominable conditions in the
debtors' prisons. James Edward Oglethorpe descended from an old family that traced its roots to the Norman
Conquest. The son of an army officer, he attended Eton and then Oxford. As a teenager, he served in the War of the
Spanish Succession, and later with Prince Eugene of Savoy against the Turks. His family was so deeply involved in
politics that his elder brother was forced into voluntary exile as a sympathizer of the Stuart pretender to the throne.
Oglethorpe took his brother's place as the head of the family estate at Westbrook, and was elected to the Parliament
in 1722, a seat he kept for the next thirty-two years. In 1727, Oglethorpe, incensed when a young architect friend
died of smallpox while imprisoned for a minor debt, was appointed chairman of a Parliamentary committee to
inquire into the "state of the gaols." His exposÈ of the horrors of the debtors' prisons made him known and respected
throughout the land.
Debtor relief was not the only reform movement of the day: the efforts of Dr. Thomas Bray caught the public's
fancy. This widely respected philanthropist organized libraries in England and America, and promoted Christian
education among the black slaves with his "Society for the Propagation of the Gospel in Foreign Parts" and the
"Society for the Promotion of Christian Knowledge." The "Associates of the Late Dr. Bray" was an important
organization that became interested in the cause Oglethorpe was soon to espouse.
In this atmosphere of public concern the genesis of Georgia took place. While Oglethorpe did not originate the
concept of a new colony, he was largely responsible for organizing initial support and seeing the effort through to
the colony's creation. Together with his influential friend, Lord Percival, and nineteen other prominent gentlemen (
many of them members of Parliament and all Bray associates ( Oglethorpe petitioned the King in 1730 for land in
Carolina. The charter was granted in 1732. While the plight of the debtor had been the impetus that prompted the
movement for a new colony, by the time the charter was granted, its scope was so broadened as to cover all those of
unfortunate circumstances; in fact, probably no more than a dozen who had even been to prison for debt went to
Georgia. As for Oglethorpe himself, for three years prior to the granting of the charter, he was immersed totally in
debtor relief. Then, from 1732 onward, his interest turned to insuring imperial defense. So by the time of its
creation, the design for the colony of Georgia was an uneasy amalgamation of the philanthropic, military and
economic forces at hand.
While the Georgia charter called for a board of twenty-one Trustees to manage this new social experiment, there
were in fact two authorities over the new colony: the government as well as the board. The government's view was
quite pragmatic: it wanted to acquire a new colony at minimum expense. For this reason, the Trust was limited to
twenty-one years, after which the colony would revert to the Crown. Of course the government appreciated the
prospect of a new colony because the Carolina border would be protected at little expense by this new buffer zone,
and Georgia trade would enhance the strength and power of the empire. To maintain control, the government
required all officials appointed by the Trust to receive their instructions from the King, who would also approve all
laws for the new colony.
The Trustees, on the other hand, were motivated by the spirit of this great social and philanthropic endeavor. The
seventy men who eventually served on the board received no pay and could own no land in the colony. With their
disparate priorities, the Trustees were often at odds with the government, which might have been unduly influenced
by the Crown. The Trustees selected one of their own number, James Oglethorpe, to lead the expedition to Georgia.
With his background and demonstrated abilities, to say nothing of his relative youth - he was only 35 - and because
of his independent wealth and his lack of attachments, Oglethorpe was well suited for the role of founder of a
colony.
The board established the most rigid screening process for prospective colonists of any American colony. They
sought settlers:
. . . of reputable families, and of liberal or, at least, easy education; some undone by guardians, some by lawsuits,
some by accidents in commerce, some by stocks and bubbles, and some by suretyship . . . . These are the people that
may relieve themselves and strengthen Georgia by resorting thether, and Great Britain by their departure.
Not all applicants were accepted, and a debtor needed permission from his creditors to join the expedition.
Each settler was given free passage, tools, agricultural implements and seeds, along with fifty acres of land. The
Trust sent over its own servants to do public work under the supervision of overseers. Those of high estate who paid
for their own passage were also allowed indentured servants and additional land. While waiting to ship out, the
entire contingent was drilled in military fundamentals by sergeants of the Royal Guard.
The first Georgians arrived off Charleston in January 1733. Oglethorpe put ashore at Port Royal and scouted the area
to the south. Two weeks later, the colonists settled in four large tents on a bluff overlooking the Savannah River,
twelve miles inland from the sea. Oglethorpe laid out the town and named the principal streets and squares for
prominent Carolinians to show thanks for the livestock and funds donated by the Carolina settlers who were
overjoyed with the protection offered by the buffer colony.
To prevent friction with the neighboring Creek tribes, Oglethorpe wisely sought permission for his settlement from
Tomachichi, the aging chief of the Yamacraw Indians, a small band who lived on the bluff. With the help of
Tomachichi and Mary Musgrove, a half-breed interpreter, he signed a treaty that gained access to all land between
the Savannah and Altamaha Rivers as far up as the tide ebbed and flowed. Excluded were the islands of Ossabaw,
St. Catherines and Sapelo, along with the small tracts above the bluff reserved for the Creek to camp.
Foreigners were welcomed early on to the fledgling colony. Salzburgers who had been persecuted by the Catholics
settled at Ebenezer and other small communities along the Savannah River. Moravians came in 1735; they refused
to bear arms and were ostracized by the community and eventually migrated north. By 1741 there were some 1,200
German-speaking settlers in Georgia, making the colony more German than English in its composition.
In 1734, Oglethorpe, with an astute eye for public relations, returned to England accompanied by Tomachichi, his
wife, nephew and five Creek chiefs. This novel entourage excited all of London, and Oglethorpe was received as a
national hero.
Oglethorpe's return coincided with the government's growing concern about the Carolina frontier. Parliament
granted £26,000 for the colony's defense, which, along with the publicity of Tomachichi's visit, aided his efforts to
recruit 130 Scots Highlanders and their families who sailed to the new colonies in 1735. The Scots settled on the
Altamaha River at a site previously selected by Oglethorpe near old Fort King George. The new settlement was
called Darien, named after an ill-fated Scottish colony in the Isthmus of Panama that was destroyed by the Spanish.
A few months later, Oglethorpe arrived in Savannah with an additional 230 colonists who were destined to settle St.
Simons Island.
Oglethorpe led the first contingent of his newest charges in small boats through the inland passage from Savannah to
St. Simons, arriving February 18, 1736. Ever aware of human nature, he kept the supply of beer in the first boat to
prevent straggling. By mid-March, 44 men and 72 women and children were in the new settlement, which had been
named "Frederica," after the Prince of Wales.
When Oglethorpe brought his travel-weary band ashore on St. Simons Island, he immediately saw to it that the
streets of Frederica were marked off, shelters erected and the construction of a fort underway. He then turned his
attention to defending his territory from the Spanish who were enraged at this latest English intrusion.
With this new upstart of a colony in Georgia, the growing strength of Carolina and the collapse of the mission
system, Spain no longer held delusions about Florida being the hub of future growth. But Florida was, nevertheless,
extremely important to protect Spanish shipping in the Bahama Channel and to guard the Gulf of Mexico from
English expansion. She was as much a buffer to protect Cuba as Georgia was to Carolina.
In the summer of 1736, the Spanish sent Antonio de Arredondo, a solder, diplomat and engineer, to deal with the
English threat. He met with Oglethorpe, and they both finally agreed to withdraw from the questioned area below
Savannah. But Oglethorpe knew that he could strengthen the area before the Spanish could react. From this time
onward, Oglethorpe placed much more emphasis on the preparation for war than on shepherding the philanthropic
adventure that had drawn him to Georgia.
Oglethorpe and Tomachichi scouted the area between St. Simons
and St. Augustine. Oglethorpe immediately detailed Lt. Mackay and
his Highlanders to start construction on Fort St. Andrews at the
northern end of Cumberland Island. He ordered Fort William to be
constructed on Cumberland's southern end, Fort St. George at the
mouth of the St. Johns River - just above St. Augustine - and a fort
on the southern tip of St. Simons. He now had a string of outposts
that would keep a sharp eye upon any Spanish activity in the inland
passage.
Frederica quickly assumed a military air, and Oglethorpe made his
permanent headquarters here rather than in Savannah. He had
chosen the town site well ( a bluff overlooking a U-shaped bend in
the river, a difficult obstacle for an attacking Spanish fleet. The site
The Fort at Frederica
was on an old abandoned Indian field, of some thirty-five acres, that
eliminated the necessity of clearing virgin timber. The town was laid out systematically: lots were divided into two
wards by a wide avenue eventually known as "Broad Street." Smaller side streets further segmented each ward.
A picture of those first few months at Frederica is furnished by Francis Moore, the recorder of Frederica:
Each freeholder had sixty foot in front, by ninety foot in depth, upon the high street, for their house and garden; but
those which fronted the river had but thirty foot by sixty foot in depth. Each family had a bower of palmetto leaves
finished upon the back street in their own lands; the side toward the front street was set out for their houses.
In addition to the town lot, each settler had a garden lot on the outskirts of town, with the balance of his fifty-acre
grant farther out. To the east of town was a large meadow used for grazing cattle. Scattered about the island were the
grants of up to five hundred acres, given to settlers who had paid their own way and the way of their indentured
servants.
In those early days, the mainstay of the town was the fort. Samuel Augspourger, a Swiss engineer, was in charge of
the fort's construction. Most of the work was done by the indentured servants of the Trust, although some settlers
also labored and were paid a daily wage. The first walls were made of earth covered with sod and surrounded by a
six-foot moat. An earthen spur jutted out into the river, and cannon were placed at water level to command the river
approaches. A double palisade of cedar poles was erected in the moat.
Initially, the fort's defense rested upon the settlers, each of
whom was given a watch coat, musket and bayonet.
Military training was a part of each day; firearms were
kept at the ready, and discipline was strict. In May of
1736, the Independent Company of Foot was transferred
from South Carolina, and Oglethorpe put them to work
constructing Fort Delegal, named after its commander Lt.
Philip Delegal, Sr., at the southern tip of St. Simons Island.
Captain James Gascoigne, commander of the sloop-of-war
Hawk, also arrived in May 1736, to augment Oglethorpe's
forces. For his service, the Trust granted Gascoigne five
hundred acres overlooking the Frederica River.
The Fort at Frederica
In November of 1736, Oglethorpe felt it necessary to
return to England to reassure the Trustees that increasing
expenditures in Georgia were necessary for its defense.
While there, he convinced Parliament to provide regular
British troops and was commissioned "General and
Commander in Chief of the Forces in South Carolina and
Georgia." He raised the 42nd Regiment of Foot and was
made its colonel. With an authorized strength of almost
700 men in six companies, virtually half of the regiment
was drawn from the 25th Regiment of Foot stationed at
Gibraltar. No doubt the misfits, troublemakers and least
healthy were assigned to Oglethorpe. The remaining three
companies were drafted in northern and central England.
Twenty young gentlemen, volunteers who hoped to win
commissions, accompanied the regiment as cadets.
When Oglethorpe returned to St. Simons Island in the fall of 1738, he stationed two companies of his regiment at
Frederica, and the rest was scattered along the outposts of the inland passage. The addition of the soldiers and their
families had quite an impact on Frederica - clapboard huts were built to house the new residents, and a new
storehouse was constructed with the third floor designated as the chapel. Redcoats livened the streets, and the King's
shilling soon weighted the purses of the town merchants.
In June of 1739 during a lull in the war hype between England and Spain, Oglethorpe wanted to be assured that the
lower Creeks would be allied with the English, or, at least, neutral. With a small party, he traveled from Frederica to
Coweta, an Indian town in the interior, and met with the mico Chigally. The Creeks, as a result of the visit, did
remain neutral during the upcoming war. On the return trip, Oglethorpe heard that England had declared war on
Spain (the War of Jenkins' Ear). Soon after, he was ordered by King George to take the war to the Spanish in
Florida.
THE ENGLISH - SPANISH INVASION
The Spanish struck first in this conflict that took its name from the mutilation of a British seaman's ear. Yamassee
Indians attacked the English fort on Amelia Island, killing two men. Oglethorpe immediately led a force of two
hundred soldiers on a retaliatory raid south of the St. Johns River. In January of 1740, a second raid captured Fort
Pupo, seventeen miles northwest of St. Augustine. With the escalation of hostilities, Oglethorpe began to increase
his forces. He recruited two ranger troops to serve as scouts, and commissioned John Mohr McIntosh as captain of
the Highland Independent Company of Foot of the Darien Militia. But more importantly, he finally convinced a
reluctant and thrifty Carolina assembly to aid in an attack on St. Augustine. The Carolinians raised a regiment to
serve for four months. To speed up recruitment, Oglethorpe contributed £4,000 of his own funds.
In May of 1740, all was ready. Oglethorpe's forces numbered almost 1,000 men, including his regular troops of the
42nd Regiment, the rangers and the Highland Independent Company, along with some five hundred Indians. He had
four Royal Navy men-of-war, one sloop, and several privateers to transport his army south. Opposing him were
some six hundred Spanish soldiers scattered along the outposts and guarding the main fortification of Fort San
Marcos at St. Augustine.
Oglethorpe's forces advanced toward St. Augustine to establish siege batteries. Meanwhile, a small, mobile force of
Highlanders, Indians, and British regulars was left north of St. Augustine as a blocking force based at Fort Mosa,
named from a village of run-away Carolina slaves located nearby. Oglethorpe had placed Colonel John Palmer of
South Carolina in command of the hundred or so troops, but the chain of command was not made clear; bickering
erupted among the officers of the unit. Orders were not carried out; inadequate guards were posted. When three
hundred Spaniards attacked at dawn on June 15th, the English were woefully ill prepared. Virtually the entire
command was killed, wounded or captured. In the Highland company alone, the battle left eight widows, twentythree orphans, and over thirty men buried in Florida; the company's captain, John McIntosh, was sent to Spain in
chains.
After the debacle at Fort Mosa, Oglethorpe laid siege to St. Augustine, but a Spanish relief expedition was allowed
to slip through the British naval blockade. The Royal Navy removed any chance of success when the commander of
the fleet gave Oglethorpe an ultimatum that he would leave by July 5th due to the impending hurricane season.
Reluctantly, Oglethorpe ordered a withdrawal in early July,
acknowledging defeat.
During the siege of St. Augustine, Oglethorpe suffered from a
debilitating fever, and the sickness was to linger for several months
after his return to Frederica. The General was, no doubt, suffering as
much from the stress of dealing with the blow struck to his pride
and self-confidence as from the fever itself. After recovering from
his illness, Oglethorpe concentrated most of the 42nd Regiment on
St. Simons Island. Fort Frederica was strengthened, and four
companies were stationed at Delegal's Fort and at nearby Fort St.
Simons. The forts were connected to the main fortification at
Frederica by a crude path, called the "Military Road", hacked
through the thick woods and undergrowth. Both forts were
supported by infantry trenches and a dozen cannon. Clapboard huts
The Barracks, Fort Frederica
were built to house the soldiers and their families on the south end
of the island. Death, disease and desertion, however, had reduced the regiment to little more than half strength.
Lt. William Horton was sent to England in 1740 to request more funds to increase the regiment. The government
agreed to fund an additional grenadier company, and Horton was named its captain. Oglethorpe also commissioned
Mark Carr as a captain of a marine company of boatmen. Carr had to travel as far as Virginia and Maryland to
recruit his company which manned two scout boats. Later, another company was formed under Lt. Noble Jones, an
independent crew of the scout boat Frederica. To guard against Spanish privateers, Oglethorpe acquired a schooner
and two sloops.
While Oglethorpe was attempting to shore up his little army after the defeat at the gates of St. Augustine, events
outside of Georgia had shifted the momentum of the war to Spain. King Philip, encouraged by British defeats at
Cartagena, Columbia and Santiago, Cuba, was ready to assume the offensive in Georgia. He ordered the governor of
Cuba to rampage along the Georgia and Carolina coast and lay waste to the countryside. Governor Montiano of
Florida was appointed Commanding General with St. Simons as his first objective. Montiano organized a force of
about two thousand men composed of: two battalions of infantry; a regiment of dragoons; a detachment of Cuban
gunners; six companies of provisional troops from St. Augustine; two battalions of militia; six independent
companies, two of which were runaway South Carolina slaves; scouts and Indians.
On the 20th of June, the Spanish fleet sailed from St. Augustine. It was a formidable force of fifty-two men-of-war,
schooners, sloops, galleys, half-galleys, piraguas and other small boats. Although they became scattered en route,
the lead element anchored off St. Simons Island June 22, 1742. Oglethorpe himself was almost captured by the
Spanish galleys as he led reinforcements to Cumberland Island.
On July 4th, the main fleet of about thirty-six vessels anchored just outside St. Simons Sound, no doubt striking fear
in the hearts of every man, woman and child of Frederica. Oglethorpe immediately assembled all his forces and
armed all the able-bodied settlers, indentured servants and volunteers. He promised lavish presents to entice the
Indians to fight, but few did. Altogether, his forces totaled about five hundred men and included a guard sloop,
guard schooner, merchant frigate and eight recently arrived supply boats.
On the afternoon of July 5th, the mighty Spanish fleet attacked with the incoming tide, fighting its way furiously
through the thin gauntlet of British ships and the cannon of Fort St. Simons. After fierce fighting ( often hand-tohand as the Spanish unsuccessfully attempted to board several British ships ( the Spanish fleet anchored in St.
Simons Sound and began landing troops a mile and a half northwest of the fort.
As the Spanish were landing, Oglethorpe evacuated the southern end of St. Simons Island. After spiking the cannon,
destroying equipment and burning the boats too damaged to escape to South Carolina, the soldiers retreated with
their families up the Military Road northward to Frederica.
The Spanish quickly occupied Fort St. Simons. Montiano sent out two reconnaissance patrols on July 7th that,
stumbling upon one another, joined forces to explore the Military Road. About 1-1/2 miles from Frederica, near
Gulley Hole Creek, they were spotted by Oglethorpe's rangers, one of whom was killed in the ensuing melee. The
others raced back to warn Oglethorpe. He mounted his horse, commanded the Highland company to follow, and
charged out of the gate.
With a few Highlanders and Indians who could keep up with him, Oglethorpe plunged into the midst of the Spanish,
capturing two with his sword. The rest were chased about 3-1/2 miles back down the Military Road, where
Oglethorpe halted to wait for reinforcements. In this brief but savage encounter, the Spanish lost thirty-six men,
killed, captured and missing.
Oglethorpe then decided to position a small delaying force across the Military Road to buy time to assemble his
forces for the final defense of Frederica. At a point where the road skirted the marsh, Oglethorpe placed Captain
Demere's regulars, numbering about sixty men, on one side of the road, and forty-five of the Highland company
with rangers and Indians on the other. The British threw up piles of brush and logs, and waited for the Spanish.
Meanwhile, Captain Antonio Barba was ordered to lead three companies of grenadiers - about two hundred men - up
the Military Road to extract the scouting party routed by Oglethorpe. When the grenadiers reached the marsh and the
causeway crossing it, the concealed British opened fire. Several Spaniards were killed in the first volley, but Captain
Barba coolly formed his men in a battle line in the fringe of trees along the marsh's edge. The Spaniards were soon
pouring a heavy fire upon the British. In the smoke, noise, confusion, and with wet powder caused by a gray drizzle,
Captain Demere and most of his regulars broke and ran, abandoning the Highland company and rangers to their fate.
Oglethorpe, upon hearing the firing, rushed toward the battle. Meeting Demere and the fleeing regulars, he
immediately ordered them to return to the marsh, ignoring the news that all was lost.
By the time Oglethorpe reached the marsh, the fighting was over. Lt. Sutherland's platoon and Lt. Mackay's
Highlanders and rangers had held fast. But the Spanish, too, had fought bravely, retreating in good order only after
running out of ammunition - with the loss of less than a dozen men. Although the Spanish casualties were light,
Montiano was stunned by two defeats on the same day along that narrow road. The morale of the Spaniards
collapsed.
The events of the next few days would mark this skirmish,
of almost insignificant numbers as battles are measured, as
the high-water mark of the Spanish invasion. But as the
years passed and the men who fought that day would relate
the story to their grandchildren, it would be recalled as the
day the marsh ran red with Spanish blood - the Battle of
Bloody Marsh.
Montiano was reluctant to attack Frederica via the Military
Road again. He decided to attempt a river attack, but two
half-galleys were driven back by cannon fire from the fort,
and Oglethorpe himself led a hot pursuit in the scout boats.
On the evening of July 12th, Oglethorpe decided to take
the initiative. He led five hundred men on a night attack of
Fort St. Simons. Unfortunately, a French seaman in Oglethorpe's party fired a warning musket shot and deserted to
the Spanish camp. With the advantage of surprise lost, Oglethorpe and his men returned to Frederica.
The Magazine, Fort Frederica
The next day, Oglethorpe initiated a clever ruse to confuse the Spanish by sending a letter via a Spanish prisoner to
the French deserter implying that he was in Oglethorpe's pay and reinforcements were on the way. As Oglethorpe
had anticipated, the letter was turned over to Montiano. Although the simple trick did not dupe the Spanish general,
it did compound his indecision. When five ships, unaware of the fighting, were sighted on the horizon, the Spanish
assumed they might be the vanguard of a larger fleet that would trap them on the island. Montiano ordered an
immediate retreat. As they withdrew, Major Horton's plantation was burned on Jekyll Island and Fort Prince
William was bombarded on Cumberland Island.
Thus ended Spain's final effort to regain her colonial empire north of Florida. The War of Jenkins' Ear would
eventually be settled on the battlefields of Europe, and within two decades Spain would lose her tenuous hold on
Florida itself.
It had been a decade since Oglethorpe had first set sail for Georgia, and his personal fortune and estate reflected his
neglect. He had spent some £60,000 toward the defense of the colony, and his personal attention was needed in
England to settle the account. Also, a lieutenant colonel of the regiment, who had returned to England in 1742 after
disputes with Oglethorpe, pressed nineteen charges against his former commanding officer. Oglethorpe was ordered
home to face a court-martial, and never saw Georgia again.
He returned to England in triumph, pled his monetary case before the House of Commons, and was awarded
£66,109,13.10. The military charges against him were dismissed, and Oglethorpe began the second half of his life in
which Georgia played very little part. In 1744, he married a wealthy widow and began to live the life of a country
gentleman and a member of Parliament. But as his long life of eighty-nine years drew to a close, Oglethorpe liked
nothing better than to tell again and again the tales of his glorious adventure in Georgia.
THE ENGLISH - FREDERICA
Although Oglethorpe had departed, the existence of
Frederica was assured - for a time. Isolated from
Savannah and exposed to Spanish attack, the
settlement did have certain advantages. It was a
relatively healthy location compared to other frontier
towns, and the women of Frederica were considered to
be among the most fertile in all of coastal Georgia.
This raw frontier village had grown in fits and starts
over the years. The two companies of soldiers and their
families stationed in the town had increased the
population to perhaps four hundred souls. An earthen
wall, palisade and moat had surrounded the settlement
The Calwell House, Frederica
since 1739, and a wide street ran from the town gate to
the fort on the river. This main thoroughfare was lined with orange trees, and most of the lots were occupied by
small clapboard houses or log huts.
Encompassing almost an acre, the fort boasted a blacksmith shop, a well and two brick and timber storehouses of
three floors each, with the top floor of the east storehouse used as the town's chapel. The earthen walls of the fort
had been reinforced with a cement-like material known as tabby.
This curious mixture - made of sand, oyster shell, lime and water - was used to strengthen the fort, to construct a
barracks for the soldiers, and to erect a few houses for the officers and prominent citizens of the town. Since it was
expensive to import brick and the wooden dwellings quickly succumbed to the semi-tropical climate, tabby proved
to be an excellent alternative. Water and sand were abundant; oyster shells were plentiful, having been collected in
huge mounds by the Guale Indians. When burned, these shells were reduced to lime. Oglethorpe probably saw
examples of tabby in Carolina, and the Carolinians had perhaps observed the technique at St. Augustine (where it
had been in use since 1670) or acquired it through a Spanish prisoner or slave. However tabby came to Georgia,
Oglethorpe used it to good advantage at Frederica.
Growth was not restricted to the town - the entire island had become more settled, if not self-supporting. The
Salzburgers, who kept to themselves in their own little enclave known as German Village, were hard-working and
industrious. Although most of the town folk had an aversion to farming, many soldiers cultivated their five-acre
allotments to supplement their pay.
Orchards provided dates, limes, figs, peaches and pomegranates; cotton was
grown in small quantities, and hay was cut and stacked in the meadows
adjacent to the town. Thousands of mulberry trees were planted at the south
end of the island in an effort to fulfill the Trustee's elusive quest for a silk
industry.
There were also the "plantations" of those who had received land grants of up
to five hundred acres. Captain Raymond Demere, John Terry (the town
recorder), George Dunbar (a Scottish sea captain), and others worked to make
their land productive. Oglethorpe also built a cottage just near the town wall
that was to be his only home in Georgia.
Life in the town reflected the diverse elements that made up its population,
and the often-conflicting philosophies of defense, material gain and
philanthropy thrust upon it by the Trustee's plan. In all probability, the
inhabitants of Frederica were no better or worse than any group of similar
size and circumstance of any era. On a stroll through Frederica's streets
during its heyday, one would be confronted by a colorful assortment: Indians,
backwoods rangers, soldiers, sailors, tradesmen of every description, men
who presumed to be gentlemen, indentured servants of the Trust, pretty
serving maids, the accomplished and the ne'er-do-wells - each and all a part
of Frederica.
The Barracks, Fort Frederica
But first and foremost, Frederica was a military town. By 1744, the armed forces were the largest employer in
Georgia. Soldiers of the 42nd Regiment stationed at St. Simons were typical of any army of the day - they were lazy,
drank too much, and frequently chased the women folk of Frederica. Some resorted to the "lewd house" of Mrs.
Campbell, while a few had little compunction against rape. The officers were a quarrelsome lot, often causing as
much trouble as their troops. In 1739, the future hero of Bloody Marsh, Lt. Patrick Sutherland, dueled with an
ensign, the latter losing his leg. In 1740, while campaigning in Florida, an ensign killed a civilian surgeon, and one
cadet killed another in a sword duel. The next year, a fatal sword wound ended the duel of two captains. Frederica's
own officers caused more casualties to the regiment than the invading Spanish army at Bloody Marsh. Despite their
disreputable conduct, the soldiers of the King were appreciated for the impact their payroll had upon the town's
economy.
With Oglethorpe's preoccupation with military concerns,
the day-to-day administration of the colony was carried
out through a system of appointed bailiffs, constables and
tithingmen. Frederica's administrative system was a
duplicate of Savannah's but with its own magistrate to
uphold the law. In 1741, Georgia was divided into two
counties, each with its own president. Although a president
was never named for Frederica, Oglethorpe's dominating
presence filled the need. When he returned to England,
however, the plan was abandoned and Frederica answered
to the Savannah president.
Religious freedom was allowed in Georgia as long as one
didn't become a Roman Catholic. While not particularly
The Barracks, Fort Frederica
religious himself, Oglethorpe realized its importance when
he settled Frederica. Two young ministers, John and Charles Wesley, accompanied by their devoted companions,
Benjamin Ingham and Charles Delamotte, came to Georgia with Oglethorpe in 1736. Ingham attempted to shepherd
the flock at Frederica a bit too closely and found that his "love and kindness were repaid with hatred and ill-will."
He returned to England the following year.
John and Charles Wesley had been tutors at Oxford and eagerly embraced the opportunity to convert the heathen
Indian in the New World. John, the elder brother, became minister to Savannah, while Charles was Oglethorpe's
secretary, minister at Frederica and Secretary of Indian Affairs. These young men, ordained by the Church of
England, were totally unsuited to the realities of the Georgia frontier ministry despite their good intentions. Charles'
harping criticisms of Frederica irritated the settlers and Oglethorpe alike. Beata Hawkins and Anne Welch, a pair of
sharp-tongued housewives whose gossip kept the town in turmoil, spread malicious rumors about him, and even the
laundry woman refused to wash his linen. He returned to England after only three months, his congregation
"reduced to two Presbyterians and a Baptist."
John fared little better. He visited Frederica for about a month in May of 1736, just after Charles left. He returned
again in July for about three months, and finally in January, stayed almost three weeks. He had no better luck than
his brother in winning the confidence of the Frederica folk (Beata Hawkins threatened to shoot him), and he
confined his ministries to Savannah. He incurred the wrath of the townsfolk there as well, and slipped away in the
dead of night to catch a ship to England in order to avoid a lawsuit and arrest.
Next came the Reverend George Whitfield. Although assigned to Frederica in 1737, Whitfield roamed throughout
the colonies, neglecting Frederica and Savannah. He was finally replaced at Frederica by William Norris in 1739,
whose constant feuding with the Trustees prompted his return to England in 1740. The Reverend Thomas
Bosomworth, the last husband of Mary Musgrove, the Indian interpreter, inherited the job for a short time. He
preferred Frederica over Savannah, but illness forced his return to England. Finally, a Swiss, Bartholomew
Zouberbuhler, was equal to the task of preaching in Georgia, and made a valuable contribution until his death in
1766.
Education wasn't given the same priority as religion in Frederica; it wasn't until 1745 that John Ulrich Driesler was
appointed schoolmaster. Pastor of the Salzburgers who lived just outside the town wall, Driesler won the job only
after assurances were given that he would learn to speak English as well as his native German.
The Decline of the English Colonial Period
It seemed for every improvement in the lives of the folk at Frederica there was a corresponding difficulty. Life had
never been easy at Frederica, and the colony itself always skirted the edge of economic calamity. By the fall of
1739, Georgia was in serious financial jeopardy and the Trustees' stores closed. The following year, the Trust
decided to severely restrict Oglethorpe's civil and fiscal powers because of his loose administrative procedures and
the frequency with which he ignored their orders. The mercantilists were so anxious for Georgia to produce silk and
wine that the colony was often on the verge of hunger, and for the entire first decade of its existence Georgia had to
rely on imports from South Carolina. At Frederica, the inhabitants' half-hearted attempts at farming - aggravated by
frequent Spanish alarms that kept men from the fields - forced Oglethorpe to place a bounty on corn and potatoes.
Under these conditions, the citizens of Frederica complained loudly and often. Their primary disaffections centered
around land tenure (females could not inherit land), the prohibition of slaves, and the ban on rum. Although the
Trustees had good and ample reasons for enforcing these prohibitions, the very survival of Georgia forced them to
reconsider their positions. Of 2,122 Trust-charity settlers in the colony, an estimated two-thirds deserted. During the
first six years of Georgia's existence, approximately five thousand settlers had arrived; at the time of the Spanish
war, discontent had left the colony on the verge of extinction.
As the principles of Georgia's founding weakened, the ban on rum was
repealed in 1742; the prohibition of slavery was soon to crumble. By 1748,
many islanders owned slaves, including Major Heron, now commander of the
regiment, who stoutly defended his right to have them. With the prosperity of
South Carolina as evidence of its merit, slavery was finally allowed in
Georgia in 1749. Most land ownership regulations were removed the same
year. These changes were too late, however, to save Frederica from her fate.
With the peace of Aix-la-Chapelle in 1748 ending the War of the Austrian
Succession in Europe, Britain began to reduce the size of her army, and the
42nd Regiment was ordered to disband. Of some six hundred soldiers, 151
The Burying Ground, Frederica
elected to stay in Georgia. Of some 600 soldiers, most returned to England;
151 elected to stay in Georgia, with a few enlisting in the new independent companies that were formed to guard the
borders. When the regiment was disbanded, the Salzburgers, who had depended upon trade with the troops, soon left
St. Simons. In 1751, the contents of the Frederica public storehouse were sold in Savannah, and the town was
virtually deserted.
Unable to extract further monies from Parliament, the Trust gave up its charter in 1752, a year before it expired.
Thus, Georgia became a Royal Colony. Although the social experiment of the Trust had failed, the permanence of
Georgia was established. This was helped along by the Trustees awarding 106 individuals some 75,000 acres of land
in the last year of the Trust.
Savannah emerged as the intellectual and social hub of
the Royal Colony with numerous wealthy plantations
nearby. Frederica met a different fate. When the first
Royal Governor, John Reynolds, toured southern
Georgia, he discovered Frederica " . . . in Ruins, the
Fortifications entirely Decayed and Houses falling
down." A final blow was dealt when even these pitiful
remains were destroyed by fire in 1758.
Captain John Gray was posted to Frederica in 1761,
and his company repaired the sagging walls of the fort.
Once again, British cannon guarded the Frederica
River. But with the Peace of Paris in 1763 ending the
French and Indian War, Spain finally ceded Florida to
The Burying Ground, Frederica
Britain, and Georgia's southern border was secure at
last. In 1767, the garrison at Frederica was withdrawn, and the British flag never again flew over the fort.
With the decline of Frederica, St. Simons was occupied by only a handful of hardy individuals, most of them
farmers, who were undaunted by their isolated island existence. In 1760, James Spalding arrived from Scotland, and,
with his business partner Donald McKay, set up a warehouse in Frederica to supply their trading posts scattered
throughout east Florida. Soon their canoes and pack trains were engaging in a lively business, and Spalding
prospered. In 1776, William Bartram, the famed naturalist, visited St. Simons on the way to Florida, and, after
noting the ruins of the fort and town, recorded that the island: " . . . was now recovering again, owing to the public
and liberal spirit and exertions of J. Spalding, esq., who was president of the island and engaged in very extensive
mercantile concerns."
The progressive efforts of Spalding and the other St. Simons inhabitants were disrupted one again, however, by war.
Exposed to raids from both sides, the island was deserted during the Revolution. When independence was gained,
many islanders returned, including the loyalist James Spalding, whose confiscated lands and property were returned
to him because of the respect with which he was held in the community.
Spalding turned his attention to farming, and began experimenting with a new strain of cotton that he introduced on
his plantation. But as the new crop flourished on St. Simons, not even a James Spalding could envision the sweeping
changes soon to be wrought by "sea island cotton".
THE PLANTATIONS
The introduction of slavery to Georgia in 1749 laid the foundation for the plantation system that would anchor her
way of life for generations. But Georgia, as envisioned by Oglethorpe and the Trust, was to be a society of small
yeoman farmers rather than landed gentry. Consequently, Georgia planters still formed relatively small plots, and
even those who acquired large grants lacked the means and the capital to develop the full potential of their holdings.
The coastal planters of South Carolina, however, with the advantage of almost a century of slave labor and no
restrictions on land ownership, had developed a network of prosperous rice plantations. But as the soil began to
show signs of depletion, the Carolinas looked to the potential rice-growing region in coastal Georgia for room to
expand.
One such interested planter was Major Pierce Butler of
Charleston who purchased 1,700 acres on the northern end
of St. Simons Island in 1774. With the interruption of the
Revolution, he did not begin to settle the estate until 1793.
So it was not until the last decade of the Eighteenth
Century that St. Simons Island began the transition into the
era of the great plantations.
Pierce Butler came to America as an officer in the British
Army. He resigned his commission prior to the Revolution
and became an ardent supporter of the American cause. In
1771, he married Mary Middleton of a prominent
Charleston family, and acquired a fortune in the process.
Butler was active in politics, representing South Carolina
in Congress, as a delegate to the Constitutional
Convention, and for several terms in the Senate. In his
The Avenue of Oaks, Retreat Plantation
later years, he was described as "a handsome widower . . .
maintaining an elegant establishment in Philadelphia who
affected to be a democrat and carefully selected his associates from the aristocracy; a South Carolinian with a
reverence for wealth."
Butler eventually owned three tracts in Georgia: the rice plantations of Butler Island and Woodville in the Altamaha
Delta, and the estate on St. Simons Island which he called Hampton, the name retained from Oglethorpe's day when
a lookout post was located there. It was at Hampton that Butler grew hundreds of acres of sea island cotton - and he
brought hundreds of slaves from South Carolina to work the fields. The slaves at Hampton would eventually number
almost a thousand, and the plantation would be recognized as one of the largest in the South.
He was by far the wealthiest planter to settle on St. Simons,
and the result of his large investment at Hampton was soon
evident. After several years, the plantation complex included
the main house with kitchen and storeroom, an overseer's
house with a separate kitchen, a smokehouse, poultry house,
washhouse, cotton barn, corn house, horse mill, two store
houses, the hospital, stable and six duplex slave cabins, and
other slave settlements built near the fields. By 1813 the main
house had ten rooms on the ground floor with seven chimneys
and possibly a second floor. This large house, which served as
Butler's only home in Georgia, was destroyed by a hurricane in
1824. The Butler family probably used the overseer's house for
their infrequent visits in the following years.
Major Butler ran his plantation with military precision. He was
a stern disciplinarian, and maintained strict control over his
slaves. He didn't permit them to associate with the blacks from
other plantations, nor did he allow them to attend church
services for the island slaves on Sunday afternoon. Under his
autocratic rule, Hampton was virtually self-sufficient. Most
items of necessity, such as shoes, clothing, furniture and tools
were manufactured on the plantation.
As an absentee landlord, Butler had to depend heavily on his
overseers, but the capable men he chose, together with his
acute business sense, made Hampton an extremely profitable cotton plantation. Up until 1835, the profits were as
high as $50,000 per year - far above the norm. Interestingly, Butler attempted to sell his Georgia holdings beginning
in 1809, but found no buyers who would meet his price.
St. Simons Plantations
Although an infrequent visitor himself, Major Butler often extended the hospitality of Hampton to his friends. One
of his most famous guests was Vice President Aaron Burr, who, after killing Alexander Hamilton in a duel, sought
refuge in the South where dueling was understood, if not tolerated. Burr had served with Butler in the Senate and
took advantage of his old friend's invitation, staying at Hampton for a month in 1804. His letters to his daughter
Theodosia written during his stay extol the graciousness of life on St. Simons.
Over three decades later, another visitor had a different view. Fanny Kemble, the beautiful English actress who had
married the Major's grandson and namesake, visited Hampton and Butler Island in 1839. In her diary, Fanny paid
eloquent tribute to St. Simons, but also recorded her indignation and shock at the reality of slavery. She later
divorced Butler and returned to England to resume her career on the stage. Her diary was published in 1863, and
gave impetus to the abolitionist movement on both sides of the Atlantic.
Both Burr and Kemble delighted in the companionship of John Couper, the master of Cannon's Point, which shared
the northern tip of St. Simons with Hampton. Separated by Jones Creek, the two sea island cotton estates were
settled within just a few years of one another.
The first large planter to live permanently on St. Simons, Couper left Scotland at sixteen "for the good of his native
land," as he often put it, to seek his fortune in America. He became an apprentice to the Savannah branch of a
Scottish mercantile firm and moved to Florida during the Revolution with his loyalist employers. After the war, he
became a successful merchant in the once-thriving but now extinct coastal town of Sunbury, where he married
Rebecca Maxwell in 1792. The following year Couper and his business partner, James Hamilton, began purchasing
scattered tracts of land on St. Simons Island.
In 1796, Couper moved his family to St. Simons to live in a modest one and one-half story cottage built by Daniel
Cannon, a carpenter of old Frederica. In 1804, the Coupers moved into a handsome mansion: the ground floor was
built of tabby with the wooden upper story-and-one-half painted white with green blinds. Broad steps led up to a
wide piazza that surrounded the second story and provided a magnificent view of the Hampton River and the distant
marshes.
John Couper's interest in horticulture was reflected in the beautiful grounds of Cannon's Point. Shrubs, trees and
flowers of every description grew in profusion alongside groves of lemons, oranges and Persian date palms. At the
request of President Jefferson, Couper imported from France two hundred olive trees, which soon yielded oil of a
superior quality.
The Coupers were gracious hosts, and Cannon's Point was rarely without visitors. It was not unusual for guests to
stay weeks or even months: one young couple came to spend their honeymoon on the plantation and stayed until the
birth of their second child! Also contributing to the pleasures of a Cannon's Point visit were the legendary skills of
the slave cook Sans Foix, who had no equal on the Georgia coast.
As a planter, Couper earned the respect of his peers through his experiments with various seeds of sea island cotton
that improved its yield. He fulfilled the responsibilities of public service as a member of the Georgia legislature and
a delegate to the state constitutional convention. When the need arose for a lighthouse on the southern end of St.
Simons, Couper sold the tract on which it stands today to the United States government for the sum of one dollar.
But the accomplishments of the master of Cannon's Point were all secondary to the man himself. John Couper was
an individual of uncommon courtesy, a sharp intellect, a quick wit and a genuine love of life that he shared with all
who knew him. The tall, red-haired Scotsman could laugh at adversity as readily as a well-told story and was never
guilty of taking himself too seriously.
James Hamilton, on the other hand, was as pragmatic as Couper was gregarious. The two had left Scotland together
and became business partners in Georgia. Hamilton settled on the southwestern portion of St. Simons and gave the
plantation his own name. The main house, of simple colonial design with a shuttered veranda and latticed
foundations, overlooked a wide lawn that sloped down to the Frederica River.
The Hamilton property included Gascoigne Bluff, where Captain John Barry of the fledgling United States Navy
supervised the shipping of live oak timber felled on St. Simons Island in 1794 for the construction of the USS
Constitution, Old Ironsides. And it was from the Hamilton wharf located here that most of St. Simons' sea island
cotton was shipped to northern and European markets.
Hamilton's business interests were not restricted to St. Simons, and he was often away from his island home. In his
travels, he sent John Couper seeds and plants from all over the world to test their adaptability on St. Simons Island.
Hamilton took an active interest, however, in island affairs, and his plantation was noted for its efficiency and
productivity. Eventually, Hamilton accumulated a fortune from his cotton fields, and retired to Philadelphia to
pursue his northern business interests. At his death in 1829, his estate was said to be worth more than a million
dollars. The other planters of St. Simons would not be so fortunate.
Lying adjacent to Hamilton Plantation on the southern tip of the island was a tract originally settled by James
Spalding. In 1804, Major William Page, a South Carolinian who had managed the Hampton estate for Pierce Butler
until a permanent overseer could be engaged, was impressed with its potential. Page bought the old Spalding
property, named it Retreat, and moved his family into the small cottage that overlooked St. Simons Sound and Jekyll
Island.
Retreat Plantation
Their only child, Anna, was a lovely girl whose hand was won by
Thomas Butler King, a young lawyer from Massachusetts. The
couple inherited Retreat Plantation at the death of Anna's parents in
1827. King became an accomplished lawyer and planter, but his
main interests revolved around politics. He spent much of his time
in Washington as a six-term congressman or traveling throughout
the country promoting his business ventures. One of the earliest
proponents of the transcontinental railroad, he helped organize the
effort for the Brunswick/Altamaha Canal, and was appointed
Collector of the Port of San Francisco. For one three-year period, he
didn't come home at all; even so, he did manage to get back often
enough to father ten children. With her husband's extensive travels,
the task of raising the family and running the plantation fell upon
Anna's most capable shoulders.
The Kings intended to erect a fine mansion at the end of the avenue of oaks that Anna had planted in 1848, but the
right time never quite arrived to build it, and they continued to live in the little cottage of hand-hewn timbers with
shuttered veranda and gabled roof. Anna's gardens surrounded the house, and she refused to grow any flower that
did not possess a pleasing fragrance, calling them "plants without souls." She nurtured as many as ninety-six
varieties of roses, among the other flowering plants, and in the springtime it was said that sailors approaching St.
Simons could smell Retreat Plantation a dozen miles from shore. John James Audubon paid homage to Retreat
when, en route to St. Augustine, his ship put in at St. Simons to escape a storm. He was entertained by Thomas
Butler King at Retreat, of which he wrote, " . . . I was fain to think that I had landed on some one of those fairy
islands said to have existed in the Golden Age."
Thus, in just more than a decade, these four great plantations - Hampton and Cannon's Point at the north of the
island and Hamilton and Retreat to the south - formed the cornerstones of a way of life that endured for threequarters of a century. Their number soon increased to more than a dozen, and thriving cotton plantations occupied
the length and breadth of St. Simons.
On the western side of the island, the Hazzard brothers, sons of a South Carolina Revolutionary War veteran who
had settled on St. Simons in the early 1800s, developed the plantations of West Point and Pike's Bluff. Just below
Frederica on Dunbar Creek was Orange Grove Plantation, the home of Major Samuel Wright who moved to St.
Simons from Savannah after the Revolutionary War.
On the seaward side of the island just below Cannon's
Point were two small estates called Long View and
Lawrence, occupied by friends and family of John Couper.
Below Lawrence was Oatlands Plantation, the summer
home of Dr. Robert Grant, a South Carolinian who also
owned a prosperous rice plantation on the Altamaha Delta.
Sinclair Plantation took its name from its original owner,
Archibald Sinclair, a tithingman of Frederica. The property
changed hands often over the years, and the plantation
house served as a meeting place for the Sinclair Club, the
scene of many a gala affair. Sinclair at one time was
occupied by Captain Alexander Wylly, a former British
officer who later built a home on the site of the colonial
Salzburger settlement, or German Village as it was called.
The Road to Cannon's Point
His plantation of over a thousand acres became known
simply as "The Village." In 1838, Wylly's youngest son, John, was killed in a boundary dispute by Dr. Thomas
Hazzard of Pike's Bluff Plantation. Wylly's grave in the Christ Church burying ground is marked by a broken
pediment, symbolic of his tragic death in the prime of life.
James Gould of Massachusetts came to Georgia in the late Eighteenth Century to survey live oak timber for the
government and established a lumber business on the St. Marys River. He settled on St. Simons and built the
lighthouse, activated in 1811, and became its keeper. The following year, Gould purchased a nine hundred-acre tract
known as New St. Clair that bridged the island from the Black Banks River to Dunbar Creek. His spacious tabby
home surrounded by rose gardens was appropriately known as Rosemount. He later bought six hundred acres,
confiscated from a Loyalist after the Revolution, which lay along the Black Banks River. The tabby home he built
here was called Black Banks, and eventually became the home of his son Horace.
Occupying most of the southeast portion of the island was Kelvin Grove. Its over sixteen hundred acres included the
site of Bloody Marsh battlefield, near which stood a beautiful three-story house with a widow's walk that looked out
over the ocean. The tract was settled in the 1790s by Thomas Cater, and developed into a prominent estate by South
Carolinian James Postell, who married into the Cater family.
In the interior of the island adjacent to Kelvin Grove, the descendants of
Captain Raymond Demere, who fought at Bloody Marsh, occupied
Mulberry Plantation. They also maintained Demere's old home,
Harrington, just outside the walls of Frederica.
These planters of St. Simons were diverse in their backgrounds and
varied in their interests; being men of wide experience, they were as
intrigued by the affairs of the world as by those of their own island. The
society they created was a blend of "Old World courtesy and refinement,
intermixed with a democratic simplicity." Although great wealth
remained elusive to most of them, their way of life was characterized by
unbounded hospitality and generosity. A newspaper article of the day
noted, "If the health of the St. Simons planters should keep pace with
their hospitality they will each see their hundredth year."
Although relatively isolated on their island, the planters kept abreast of
the times with trips to fashionable vacation spots, and sojourns abroad
were not uncommon. The young men were usually educated at northern
universities, while their sisters were tutored at home and then, more often
than not, sent to finishing schools in Savannah or Charleston. Marriages
between island families were the norm, and few born to island life chose
to leave it.
Slave Cabin, Hamilton Plantation
By 1807, the island's population was sufficient to require a permanent place of worship. Christ Church was
established, the second-oldest Episcopal Church in Georgia, and the State legislature granted to it one hundred acres
near Frederica. But it was not until 1820 that a simple, little white wooden chapel was built under the oaks near the
town walls of Frederica. For the next forty years the island families traveled up or down Frederica Road every
Sunday to worship at Christ Church.
As life on St. Simons matured, however, it grew totally dependent upon that Sovereign of the South - King Cotton or, specifically, "sea island cotton", as it became known. This special strain was introduced to St. Simons in 1786 by
Colonel Roger Kelsall, who sent his former business associate, James Spalding, seeds of the Anguilla cotton from
the Bahamas. This sea island cotton quickly adapted and thrived on the coastal islands of Georgia. It brought much
higher prices than the short staple variety grown inland, and was used for only the finest cloth and lace.
Vagaries of the weather and fluctuating cotton prices made the financial status of an island planter anything but
certain. Long staple cotton prices ranged from twenty to fifty cents per pound, with depressed periods in 1806-15,
1826-34 and 1840-50. With production costs estimated to average $75 per 350-pound bag of sea island cotton,
losses were substantial during those depressed years.
There was not better example of the uncertainty of the financial status of a cotton
planter than John Couper of Cannon's Point. In 1804 his entire cotton crop was
destroyed by a hurricane with over a $100,000 loss. In 1814, British soldiers stole
sixty slaves valued at over $15,000, forcing him to replace them on credit at
approximately $450 each. In 1824, his cotton crop was again destroyed by a
hurricane with a $90,000 loss, and the following year his entire crop was destroyed
by caterpillars. In 1827, Couper was forced into bankruptcy, selling most of his
lands to his partner James Hamilton for $174,712, retaining only his Cannon's Point
home.
Slave Cabin, Hamilton Plantation
The individual responsible during good years and bad for getting the best cotton price for an island planter was the
"cotton factor." Most of them operated out of Charleston or Savannah, and acted as a banker, extended credit, paid
bills, and often bought supplies for the plantation. They applied a commission of two and one-half percent for their
services, and interest on loans was usually eight percent. These factors often exercised tremendous control over the
affairs of the plantations through liens on the property, and few planters were not in their debt.
But the foundation of the plantation system was made up of those at the bottom of the social hierarchy - the slaves.
The cultivation of sea island cotton was labor intensive, and the planters were often outnumbered by their black
charges as much as twenty to one. The slaves lived in cabins made of wood or tabby that were often duplexes large
enough to accommodate two families. The use of tabby had been discontinued in Georgia after 1762 until its
revitalization by the coastal planters. Thomas Spalding, influenced by the ruins of Frederica, reintroduced tabby in
1805 with the construction of his home on Sapelo Island. Other planters followed his example, and tabby
construction in the home of both master and slave thrived until the Civil War.
The slaves' diet consisted, for the most part, of corn meal and fat meat provided by the planters. This was
supplemented by vegetables grown in their own gardens, which they could eat or sell, and their vegetable money
was often used to buy whiskey, tobacco and patent medicine. Much of their free time was spent fishing and trapping
small game, activities that varied the monotony of their fare.
Their clothing was generally issued twice a year, with special gifts, such as kerchiefs or cloth, given at Christmas
time. Most of the discarded clothing of the planter's family eventually made its way to the slaves' quarters. Despite
the paucity of their existence, however, archaeological evidence from John Couper's plantation indicates that the
slaves of Cannon's Point, and perhaps the other plantations as well, lived on a material level equal to or surpassing
the rural white farm workers of the day.
The slaves of St. Simons were assigned work in the fields by the task system. Each field hand was given a portion of
the field for which he was responsible, or a "task," usually about a quarter of an acre. Those with less stamina were
assigned three-quarter tasks, half-tasks, or other fractions according to their ability. From January to March, the
slaves manured the fields, pulled down old beds and set out new ones with hoes and plows. In April the seeds were
planted; during the next few months the fields were thinned, hoed and then weeded six to eight times before being
topped. Picking began in late August, and by early November the cotton was cleaned with roller gins, a process that
lasted the rest of the year.
Slaves were supervised in their work by white overseers, who occupied an intermediate social status along with
tradesmen and farmers and landless whites. Many planters couldn't afford an overseer - his salary and expenses
could run from 10% to 20% of the plantation's income - and a black foreman called a "driver" was used instead.
The typical workday for a field hand began at dawn with a break
in the field for breakfast about nine. The day's work was often
completed by noon. Very seldom did the slaves have to work
beyond three in the afternoon; after that, they day was their own
- unless they were being punished for some infraction of a
plantation rule. As punishment, a slave might be forced to keep
Frederica Road in good repair, to dig stumps out of a field, or to
clean up around the slaves' quarters. The lash was rarely used as
a form of punishment; when it was employed, it was usually the
black driver who applied the blows.
Perhaps the most poignant aspect of slave life on the island was
the heartache endured by a slave if he fell in love with a woman
who lived on another plantation. Normally, marriage between
Slave Hospital, Retreat Plantation
slaves on different plantations was prohibited; when an
exception was made, a slave was said to have a "broad wife" not referring to her possibly excessive girth, but indicating he had to go abroad on weekends to visit her plantation.
Slavery flourished on St. Simons from 1749 until the Emancipation Proclamation in 1863. In 1798, the State
Legislature prohibited the direct acquisition of slaves from Africa, relying instead on the natural increase of those
already in Georgia. Rather than eliminating importation, however, the edict gave rise to a slave smuggling trade
along the isolated coastal islands. Tradition has it that slaves were brought ashore on the banks of the Dunbar Creek
at a spot known today as Ebos Landing. The leader of the Ebos - a proud and noble tribe of Nigeria - led his people
into the waters of the creek where they drowned themselves rather than submit to slavery. For many years, the
blacks on St. Simons refused to go fishing in that portion of Dunbar Creek because they believed it was haunted by
the spirits of those Ebo tribesmen.
If slavery was responsible for the emergence of the great plantations of St. Simons, so it was for their demise. The
culture anchored by sea island cotton, slavery and the character of the planters who shaped it didn't survive beyond
its third generation.
When the Civil War came to St. Simons, the island proved to be in a strategic location. It could supply food for
soldiers, serve as a base for raiders and blockade-runners and command the entrance to Brunswick Harbor.
Consequently, in January of 1861, Governor Brown ordered the Jackson Artillery from Macon to occupy St. Simons
Island. But after several months at Frederica, the garrison duty was so dull they asked to be removed. When the
Southern coastline was blockaded by the Federal fleet, 1,500 Georgia troops manned batteries at the south end of the
island, near old Fort St. Simons, as well as strong fortifications on the northern end strengthened by five batteries.
There was much social interaction between Confederate officers and islanders, particularly with the King family of
Retreat Plantation, on whose property the fort was built.
The enthusiasm of those early days of the war soon dispersed when
Robert E. Lee ordered the evacuation of St. Simons. The
Confederate troops were sent north to defend Savannah; the
planters, their families and most of the slaves went inland to seek
refuge from the invading Yankees. As they departed, the
Confederates destroyed the lighthouse, lest it become a navigational
aid to the Union blockading fleet.
Federal warships soon patrolled the coastal waters, and the U.S.
Navy assumed jurisdiction of St. Simons Island. Over five hundred
contrabands, or freed slaves, were settled at Retreat Plantation and
Gascoigne Bluff. Negro troops under white officers were stationed
on the island; during their occupation, the plantations were
ransacked and Christ Church defiled.
Slave Hospital, Retreat Plantation
In 1863, Captain Miles Hazzard, of the 4th Georgia Cavalry, led nine Confederate soldiers on a reconnaissance
mission on St. Simons Island. Much to his anger, Hazzard found that his family's graves at Christ Church had been
desecrated. He wrote a note to the Federal commander and placed it on a stick planted in the middle of the road in
front of the church. The note was forwarded to the Federal commanding officer, and said, in part: " . . . let me tell
you, Sir, that beside these graves I swear by heaven to avenge their desecration. If it is honorable for you to disturb
the dead, I shall consider it an honor and will make it my ambition to disturb your living." Never again were the
graves molested.
The Federal forces were eventually ordered back to South Carolina, and the contraband colony was disbanded.
During the latter half of the war, little or no activity occurred on St. Simons. Then, after mid-1864, many ex-slaves
drifted back to their former plantations, as did their former owners when the guns fell silent.
The young men of St. Simons acquitted themselves honorably in the conflict. The four
King brothers of Retreat Plantation participated in over a hundred engagements. But some
St. Simons soldiers paid a dear price. Henry Lord King fell at the Battle of Fredericksburg.
His body was borne home by his faithful servant, Neptune, to rest in the Christ Church
burying ground. Of the five grandsons of John Couper, two died in Virginia; only one
survived unscathed.
When the planters returned, they were greeted by utter desolation. The fields were
overgrown, most of their homes were uninhabitable, and ex-slaves claimed the land under
eighteen federal land grants. It took several years for the land titles to be restored to the
island families.
James Gould 1772-1852
In the years just after the war, many St. Simons blacks settled in the center of the island
along Frederica Road and eastward to the marsh. They called their community "Harrington," after the old Demere
homestead nearby; descendants of those former slaves still live there today.
Meanwhile, the planters tried to resurrect their old estates, but it was not to be. Freed slaves were unaccustomed to
working for wages, and the planters had little money or access to credit to pay them. One by one, the great
plantations were abandoned. Families that were determined to remain on St. Simons were left with little but the
legacy of their past.
THE MILL DAYS
A decade was to pass after the war's end before economic stability
returned to St. Simons, and the island's revitalization ironically
sprang from the source of its downfall - the North. The attention of
the Dodge-Meigs Lumber Company, of New York, was drawn to
St. Simons for its ideal location to process the vast stands of eastern
Georgia timber, easily obtained from destitute owners at little cost.
The Dodge-Meigs Company purchased Hamilton Plantation in
1876, and built a large mill on upper Gascoigne Bluff. The northern
firm became associated with the Georgia Land and Lumber
Company, which owned five hundred square miles of virgin yellow
pine timber in tracts located between the Ocmulgee and Oconee
Rivers, which joined to form the Altamaha River. The timber was
rafted down the Altamaha to the mills at St. Simons, where it was
cut into lumber and shipped all over the world.
Christ Church
In addition to the "big mill," the Dodge-Meigs Company eventually
added a planing mill, cypress mill, holding basin, and acquired the lower
mill built by local businessman Urbanus Dart in 1874 located near the
present-day bridge over the Frederica River. It was here that the timbers
were sawn for the construction of the Brooklyn Bridge.
Soon the mills developed a cutting capacity of approximately 125,000
feet per day. It was not unusual to see as many as twenty ships from
Atlantic and European ports anchored in the Frederica River, guided
there by the new lighthouse, rebuilt in 1872. Ballast rocks were
frequently deposited in the marsh opposite Gascoigne Bluff, and formed
a rock island known as "Little Europe."
The mills offered, for the first time since the war, regular employment
for the islanders, both black and white. Sons of the old plantation
families became foremen and managers; former slaves provided an
excellent labor force and by 1880 were earning up to a dollar a day.
These black workers settled on both sides of Demere Road, which ran
from the wharf to the lighthouse. Two enterprising Brunswick
merchants, the Levison brothers, who happened to be Jewish, opened a
store to serve them. Soon the blacks were calling their community
Jewtown, and so it is known to this day.
But the nucleus of the growing community
Christ Church Stained Glass
was at St. Simons Mills, as it was known,
on Gascoigne Bluff. This busy center soon boasted a post office, the company store
and offices, telephone and telegraph services, and a water system fed by artesian wells.
A public wharf called "Steamboat Landing," located at the old Hamilton Plantation
dock, is still used as a marina today. With as many as three hundred workers employed
at the mills, the Brunswick Advertiser in 1880 noted, "one thousand persons received
their means of sustenance either
directly or indirectly from the St.
Simons Mills."
The success of the mills prompted
one of the owners, Anson G. P.
Dodge, Sr., to build a handsome
St. James Union Church
home on the river, called "Rose
Cottage," surrounded by beautiful grounds and a lovely arbor. It
later was the home of the mill superintendent until destroyed by
fire in 1884. A large white boarding house, "Ivy Manor," was built
near the old Hamilton Plantation house. As the needs of the
community increased, St. James Union Church was erected
nearby in 1880, as was a school two years later.
Christ Church Cemetery
The coming of the mills brought changes other than industrial activity at
Gascoigne Bluff. A principle contribution to the spiritual life of St.
Simons was made by Anson Dodge's son. Anson, Jr., came to St. Simons
to visit his father, and the wealthy young man was enchanted by the
island. He was moved to devote his life to God and to the people of St.
Simons, and returned north to begin his preparation for the ministry. He
married his childhood sweetheart, but his bride died in India on their
wedding trip. Devastated by his loss, young Anson returned to St.
Simons, and in 1884 built the present-day Christ Church in her memory
on the site of the original planters' chapel. Reverend Dodge spent the
reminder of his years attending to the spiritual needs of the islanders, and
his final resting-place is in the shadow of the church to which he
dedicated his life.
The feverish activity of St. Simons' lumber industry only spelled out its
doom, for in the early 1900s most of the available timber had been cut,
and the days were numbered for the St. Simons Mills. By 1908, the
machinery had been dismantled. The Hilton-Dodge Company, as it was
now known, had moved elsewhere, and the passing years would soon
erase most reminders of its brief presence.
The Oaks of Gascoigne Bluff
THE RESORT ERA
Fortunately, changes had been occurring on St. Simons Island during the mill era that cushioned the shock of its
demise. In 1887, a wooden pier was built on the south end of the island, inaugurating regular ferry service to and
from the mainland. In the next few years, steamers such as the Emmeline, the Hessie, the Ruby and the Seagate
brought an ever-increasing stream of summer visitors from Brunswick and south Georgia to enjoy the delights of St.
Simons Island.
In 1888, the Hotel St. Simons, located at the present site of Massengale Park, opened to summer guests. Its owners
also operated the Oglethorpe Hotel in Brunswick as a winter resort. The same furniture was used for both hotels, and
was ferried across the sound at the change of seasons.
When guests arrived on the island, they were conveyed by mule-drawn trolley from the pier to the rambling hotel in
the dunes; with its three stories and twenty cottages, it could accommodate three hundred guests. Although the
original Hotel St. Simons burned in 1898, another structure just as imposing, appropriately named the New Hotel St.
Simons, was built on the same site about 1910.
As the island accustomed itself to its new identity as a seaside resort, growth was not restricted to hotels. Near the
lighthouse, a cluster of small, simple wooden cottages emerged that became known as the "Waycross Colony." Its
name originated from the hometown of most of the cottagers. Many of these families would spend the entire summer
on the island with the menfolk commuting by train on the weekends. This seasonal ritual was carried out from the
1890s to 1934, when the remaining colony, which had been losing cottages over the years to the rising sea, was
destroyed by fire.
Around the turn of the century, the pier became a center of activity. Two hotels were built at its base, called the
"Bellevue" and "Jekyll View." They were flanked by a pavilion, bathhouse, and huge wooden water slide. The muledrawn trolley was replaced by a small steam-engine tram, the Florida Limited, which in turn gave way to a
motorized trolley car.
The large grassy field between the pier and the lighthouse was utilized for many years as the summer training camp
for the Georgia Militia; soldiers enjoyed the island as much as the vacationers. The old parade ground is today
fondly known as Neptune Park in honor of the Retreat Plantation slave, Neptune Small, and nestles next to the
village where the old hotels once stood.
St. Simons was irrevocably connected with the
mainland in 1924 with the completion of the
Fernando J. Torras Causeway. Named after the
young engineer who spearheaded its
construction, the five-mile roadway and its
complement of wooden bridges spanned the
marshes, creeks and rivers between Brunswick
and Gascoigne Bluff. Automobiles were soon
driving under the oaks of Frederica Road and on
the wide, sandy beaches that had heretofore been
marked only by footprints erased with the
incoming tide.
The new causeway also attracted the attention of
Howard Coffin, the owner of the nearby island of
Sapelo. The Detroit auto magnate had made a
substantial fortune as designer and engineer of
the Hudson Motor Car, and was a co-founder of
the company that became United Airlines. He
was also instrumental in organizing America's
industrial effort in World War I.
Coast Guard Station
After creating an island retreat on Sapelo that he and his wife enjoyed for over a decade, Coffin's attentions turned
southward to Brunswick and St. Simons when the causeway was completed. He realized that the coastal highway,
today's Route 17 that would eventually connect New York and Miami, created a tremendous financial opportunity
for investment in St. Simons' resort potential. He purchased Retreat Plantation and Gascoigne Bluff in 1926, and
immediately began constructing the golf course that would anchor his new development. Its clubhouse was built
from the King's tabby corn barn.
The frenetic pace of Coffin's improvements rapidly changed the face of St. Simons. He had the entire county
surveyed and zoned. He paved twenty-two miles of road on the island, which included the construction of a new
avenue that ran directly from the causeway to the pier area, shortening considerably the former route that wound
across the island. In this neighborhood, Coffin created St. Simons' first subdivision. But his attention turned to a
little spit of land lying to the east of St. Simons that had been known by a variety of names over the years. Early
settlers called it "Fifth Creek Island;" during plantation times it was known as "Long Island;" for years afterwards it
was used as a pasture for goats, hogs and cattle; and in this century it was known as "Glynn Isle." Coffin purchased
the tiny barrier island in 1926 for $350,000 from a group of disenchanted Brunswick investors, and "Sea Island" was
born.
He planned to develop a towering eight-story hotel overlooking the magnificent beach with its attendant vacation
cottage colony. He later revised his elaborate plans to settle for a more practical little forty-six room inn designed by
Palm Beach architect Addison Mizner. The Cloister Hotel opened in 1928, and soon vacation cottages began to
appear along Sea Island Drive.
Coffin brought his young first cousin, Alfred W. Jones, who had managed his Sapelo
estate, to take over the reins of the fledgling resort. Jones and Coffin soon faced the
trials of the Depression, which cost Coffin his fortune and his health. The Cloister
Hotel and Sea Island Company eventually passed into the hands of Alfred Jones, who
continued the tradition of maintaining a hotel ambience where, as he put it, "ladies and
gentlemen are served by ladies and gentlemen." And so it is today with Alfred W.
Jones III at the helm.
On St. Simons, steady growth was hard on the heels of the Depression. Howard Coffin
donated land for the island airport and Coast Guard station. The King and Prince, a
delightful beach hotel built just south of the Hotel St. Simons site, opened just in time
to be used as a naval officers' billet in World War II.
The war came quickly to St. Simons. In the early hours of April 8, 1942, explosions
reverberated over the south end as two oil tankers, the S. S. Oklahoma and the Esso
Resurrection Fern
Baton Rouge, were torpedoed a few miles off the island. Their nemesis was the
German submarine U-123, which was to become one of the deadliest of the Atlantic
U-boat fleet. Twenty-two seamen died in the attack, and the survivors were rescued from lifeboats and taken to the
Coast Guard pier on the Frederica River. These fortunate mariners were soon back in the war, as were the two
tankers. Both were raised, refitted and returned to service, only to be sunk again and sent to a final grave in the
Atlantic.
Meanwhile, as the military geared up for war, the Civil Air Patrol flew anti-submarine patrols out of the St. Simons
airport from May 1942 until February 1943. By then a Naval Radar Training School was also established at the
airfield. On the mainland, blimps operating from the new Glynnco Naval Air Station played an important role in
protecting coastal sea routes for the duration of the conflict.
The war years introduced the many charms of St. Simons to thousands of young men from all over the country. The
appealing island that had drawn visitors primarily from south Georgia and Atlanta was a closely-guarded secret no
longer. When post-war prosperity sent Americans vacationing in many heretofore-undiscovered spots around the
country, a substantial number found their way to the island. And over the years those numbers have continued to
swell as accents from all over the world can now be heard on the often-teeming sidewalks of the Pier Village.
After the war the island also attracted the attention of the South Georgia Methodists. They had searched for decades
for "a place where our people may find recreation and health, free from the moral laxity of worldly resorts; a place
where we may hold meetings, Bible conferences, and other institutes for educational and inspirational work." The
main grounds of Hamilton Plantation were finally deemed the perfect spot. Unfortunately, the Methodist Conference
could not afford the entire plantation of over 1700 acres. So, Alfred W. Jones came to the fore. The Sea Island
Company purchased Hamilton Plantation in 1949 and sold to the Methodists 43.5 acres gracing the banks of the
Frederica River.
And thus was born Epworth-by-the-Sea. Under the leadership of Bishop Arthur J. Moore, the retreat center
flourished. Venerable tabby plantation buildings were soon nestled amid new construction, and the St. James Union
Church of the lumber mill era was beautifully restored. It was renamed Lovely Lane Chapel, after the church in
Baltimore where the first Methodist service in America was held in 1784. Epworth has now passed the half-century
mark and wears comfortably the patina of its maturity. More than a hundred thousand visitors of all faiths annually
convene under its oaks and return home with a bit of St. Simons in their hearts.
In the early 1960s St. Simons was again impacted by a force from the north. A Chicago writer discovered the island
quite by accident while driving south on a vacation. Eugenia Price was immediately beguiled by its beauty and the
islanders she met. She decided to make St. Simons her home, and was inspired to write three novels in the next
decade, based on the stories of island families. St. Simons has not been the same since. Millions of readers around
the world were enthralled by her island sagas, and a goodly number have, in the ensuing years, made their way to St.
Simons to see where it all took place. Eugenia Price died in 1996, leaving a legacy of thirteen novels of the southern
coast along with numerous non-fiction works that continue to inspire new generations of islanders and visitors alike.
By the late seventies the seasonal migrations to and from Florida thronged the newly constructed I-95 that snaked
across the island's mainland front porch. Ever-increasing numbers of island explorers exited the interstate pipeline
and were spellbound by what they discovered. And the word spread.
St. Simons has now grown up. A sizeable permanent population and an everincreasing stream of visitors has spawned the inevitable subdivisions,
condominiums, shopping centers, golf courses - all the things that we demand
for ourselves are now a part of the island. As St. Simons enters the twentyfirst century, the future of the island has not yet been determined. Firm lines
have been drawn between those who want to honor St. Simons' unique
heritage and environment with carefully planned growth - and developers
who view this exquisite island as merely an opportunity for profit.
Compromises can be made, of course, but few have been reached. As the
zoning wars rage, more oaks are sacrificed to often-to-be regretted
architecture that this beloved island endures with hard-pressed dignity. The
final act in this drama has yet to be written, and all who love the island can be
a contributing playwright. The choice is ours.
We cannot go very far on St. Simons today, however, without having a direct
confrontation with the past and the legacy it has bestowed upon us: the shell
The Lighthouse
mounds of the Guale, the fort at Frederica, the tabby ruins of the plantations,
Christ Church, and perhaps the most visible reminder of all - the lighthouse. With its beacon shining each night for
over a hundred years, guiding us to the island, it is an enduring symbol of what St. Simons was, is and shall be.