Although by resolutions adopted on the 18th of November, 1812, and the 12th of November, 1813, the Legislature provided for stationing troops in the counties of Bryan, Liberty, McIntosh, Glynn, and Camden, for the protection of the sea-coast of Georgia, it does not appear that any permanent detail was made for Sunbury. The fort, however, was again placed in tolerable condition, the planters furnishing the labor requisite for cleaning out the ditch, strengthening the parapet, and mounting such guns as there remained and were deemed trustworthy. A few light pieces were obtained from Savannah and added to the armament. Such gun-carriages as were manufactured in the county were made by Jonathan Goulding, of Taylor’s Creek. Not a shot, however, was fired from the fort during the war of 1812-1815.
Although British vessels of war were constantly upon the coast, and the smoke of merchantmen captured, robbed, and burnt by them was on several occasions seen from Sunbury, the enemy never ascended Midway river. A company composed of the citizens of the town and its vicinity, numbering some forty men and commanded by the honorable John A. Cuthbert, and another company consisting of the larger boys then students at the Sunbury Academy, and under the command of Captain [afterwards Brigadier General] Charles Floyd, were formed for local defense, drilled at regular intervals, and held themselves in readiness to act as occasion might require.
Besides these, there were then three volunteer companies in Liberty County: the Liberty Independent Troop,—Captain Joseph Jones,—and two infantry companies, commanded respectively by Captains Robert Quarterman and John Winn. “The Guards,” under Captain Winn, were at one time stationed at Hardwick, in Bryan County.
After his defeat at Point Peter, Captain Jones’ cavalry company and the Rifle company of Captain Quarterman were ordered to the relief of Major Messias. They were for some time on duty at Darien.
The militia of the County being well organized and efficiently officered, was largely engaged in maintaining a careful watch along the coast. In this service assistance was rendered by barges and cutters from the American Navy, which patrolled Midway river and the adjacent inlets, and not infrequently established their headquarters at Sunbury. The “Committee of Safety” for Liberty County, during the war, consisted of General Daniel Stewart, William Fleming, John Winn, John Stacy, John Elliott, John Stevens, and Joseph Law. These gentlemen were authorized to take general charge of the local defense, and to call upon the citizens of the County for such labor as appeared necessary. In case of a refusal on the part of any one to respond to the requisition, they were instructed to advertise the name of such delinquent in the most frequented places, that he might be held up to public contempt “for having disgraced the character of the citizen and the patriot.”
This Committee assured General C. C. Pinckney of their ability and willingness to repair and garrison the Fort at Sunbury, and made requisition upon him for two 18-pounder guns and a suitable supply of ammunition. In its remodeled condition, the fortification at Sunbury received at the hands of the Committee of Safety a new name,—“Fort Defence.” As being more easily defended, and requiring a smaller garrison, General Pinckney suggested the erection of a tower for the protection of Sunbury. This project, however, was never consummated.
The last vessel of any moment, which visited the town, was a Swedish brig which, in 1814, came in and conveyed away a load of cotton. Mr. James Holmes was the last Collector of the port; and for many years prior to his death the office was a mere sinecure. Subsequently a Surveyor was appointed by the General Government whose principal duty was to sign blank reports and draw his quarterly salary. The last person who held this office was the genial Colonel William Maxwell.
Until 1833, the Liberty Independent Troop,—the oldest volunteer military organization within the limits of Georgia except the Chatham Artillery,—celebrated the fourth of July each year at Sunbury. This company was then the guest of the town, and the recipient of every welcome and hospitality. The morning was spent in military exercises, in contentions at the head, ring, and target, and the afternoon was crowned with a public dinner replete with good cheer and patriotic speeches. This annual parade was the event of the year in that quiet community. On such occasions the U. S. Revenue Cutters stationed on the coast would generally come up to the town by special invitation, and participate in the festivities.
The summer retreats established at Jonesville, Flemington, Hinesville, and Dorchester, compassed the depopulation of the old town. Without trade, destitute of communications, and visited more and more each season with fevers, Sunbury, for nearly thirty years, has ceased to exist save in name. Its squares, lots, streets, and lanes have been converted into a corn field. Even the bricks of the ancient chimneys have been carted away. No sails whiten the blue waters of Midway river save those of a miserable little craft employed by its owner in conveying terrapins to Savannah. The old cemetery is so overgrown with trees and brambles that the graves of the dead can scarcely be located after the most diligent search. Fort Morris is enveloped in a wild growth of cedars and myrtle. Academy, churches, market, billiard room, wharves, store-houses, residences, all gone; only the bold Bermuda covered bluff and the beautiful river with the green island slumbering in its embrace to remind us of this lost town. A stranger pausing here would find no trace of the past once full of life and importance, but now existent only in the skeleton memories which redeem place and name from that oblivion which sooner or later is the common lot of all things human. The same bold bluff,—the same broad expanse of marshes stretching onward to the confines of the broad Atlantic,—the same blue outlines of Colonel’s island and the Bryan shore,—the same sea-washed beach of St. Catherine,—the same green island dividing the river as it ebbs and flows with ever restless tide,—the same soft sea-breezes,—the same bright skies,—the same sweet voices and tranquil scene which nature gave and still perpetuates,—but all else how changed! Truly “oblivion is not to be hired.” Blindly scattering her poppy she deals with places as with men, and they become as though they had not been. Strange that a town of such repute, and within the confines of a young and prosperous commonwealth, should have so utterly faded from the face of the earth!
“The garden with its arbor—gone,