"No, sah! Gin'l Jackson mout ha' ben thar, but Gin'l Wash'tun, he hab a han' in it. Yes, sah, I'se de fust settlah, sah: was in St. Mary's afo' a street was laid out [in 1787], an' 'twas all bay-gall an' hammock."
The Indian name of Cumberland Island was Missoe ("beautiful land"), and this was changed when Oglethorpe visited the island, at the request of an Indian chief who had received some kindness from the duke of Cumberland. It is related in an old English record, of which I have seen a copy, that the duke was so well pleased at this evidence of good-will that he caused a hunting-lodge to be erected there, and named it Dungeness, after his country-seat, Castle Dungeness, on the cape of Dungeness in the county of Kent. From that time until the breaking out of the Revolution it was "owned successively by peers of the British realm."
The island is eighteen miles in length and from half a mile to three miles in breadth. The soil is sandy, adapted to the culture of cotton, corn, potatoes, etc.: pomegranates, olives, dates, figs, limes, lemons, oranges and melons yield abundant crops. The great frost of 1835, which extended over the entire peninsula of Florida, destroyed the fine groves of orange trees: at one time this fruit was shipped in schooner-loads, and from one tree three thousand oranges have been gathered. The forest trees are live-oak, cedar and a few pines. A most interesting fact in the history of the island is found in its chronicles, for here were obtained the timbers for the Constitution (Old Ironsides), that noble frigate so well known to every American. Some of the stumps of the indestructible live-oak from which the timber was cut for her ribs may yet be seen. Deer, raccoons, bear and 'possum are abundant in the thick forest. The climate is temperate and healthy: many of the former slaves live to a great age. The island has never been afflicted by fever: while the town of Brunswick, to the north, and Fernandina, just across the channel to the south, have been scourged by Yellow Jack, Cumberland has ever remained untouched. St. Mary's, across the marshes on the main land, also boasts this immunity.
The creeks of the marshes swarm with fish of every sort, and there are oyster-beds containing large and toothsome bivalves. With 'possums and 'coons, fish and oysters, is it strange that Cuffie clung to his old home long after his master had left it? is it a matter of wonder that there yet remains a remnant of the old slave population, houseless and poverty-stricken, clinging to the island that once gave them so delightful a home? At the close of the war, it is related, Mr. Stafford, proprietor of the central portion of the island, burned his negro houses to the ground, telling his people to go, as he had no more use for them nor they for him. Cumberland to-day is nearly depopulated, the fertile cotton-and corn-fields run to waste, and wild hogs and half-wild horses roam over the pasture and scrub that cover once-cultivated fields.
The history of this island commences with that of Georgia. We read that in 1742 the Spaniards invaded Georgia and landed on the island. With a fleet of thirty-six sail and with more than three thousand troops from Havana and St. Augustine, they entered the harbor of St. Simons, north of Cumberland, and erected a battery of twenty guns. General Oglethorpe, with eight hundred men, exclusive of Indians, was then on the island. He withdrew to his fort at Frederica, and anxiously awaited reinforcements from Carolina. By turning to account the desertion of a French soldier he precipitated the attack of the Spaniards, and on their march to Frederica they fell into an ambuscade. Great slaughter ensued, and they retreated precipitately. The place of conflict is to this day known as "Bloody Marsh." The Spaniards retreated south along the coast in their vessels, and on their way attacked Fort William, at the southern extremity of Cumberland Island, but were repulsed with loss. This fort, which was constructed, I think, by Oglethorpe, is placed on the extreme southern end of Cumberland in a map of the island made in 1802. Even then the fort was half submerged at high water, and at the present day its site is far out in the channel. The water of the river-mouth is constantly encroaching upon the land, and the ruins of a house once standing upon the southern point may be seen, it is said, beneath the water at low tide. Old Fort William has been seen within the memory of residents of St. Mary's, but likewise beneath the waves.
About 1770 that rare naturalist and botanist, William Bartram, landed here and traversed the island, being set across to Amelia Island (Fernandina) by a hunter whom he found living here. He was then at the commencement of his romantic journeyings among the Seminole Indians up the St. John's River, then running through a wilderness. Another fortification, Fort St. Andrew, situated on the north-west point of the island, may still be traced by the ruins of its walls. A well is known there into which, it is said, the English threw ten thousand pounds in silver upon the approach of the Spaniards. In this way, by vestiges of foundation-walls, are indicated the various settlements of the island—mansions and cabins that have passed away, leaving no other sign but these sad memorials of the past.
At the conclusion of peace, and immediately after the close of the Revolution, the southern portion of Cumberland Island came into the possession of General Nathaniel Greene. It is said by some to have been presented to him by the State of Georgia in connection with the beautiful estate of Mulberry Grove, where he removed with his family and took up his residence. His lamentably premature death prevented the consummation of his design to build here a retreat in which to spend the hot summer months. He had resided but a year upon his estate of Mulberry Grove, and had hardly commenced to beautify and adorn this chosen residence of his maturer years, when a sun-stroke cut him down in the prime of his life.
The general had selected the site of the mansion to be built at Dungeness, and had planned the grounds, laid out a garden—which subsequently became famous for its tropical products and roses—and had lined through the forests of live-oak those avenues which have since grown to such magnificent proportions. As has been related, he did not live to see the completion of his work, but died almost at its very inception. In 1786 the year of his death, the foundation-walls were laid of the mansion-home of Dungeness, but the building was not finished till 1803. Even after it had been occupied for years, and during the sixty years and more it was used as a residence by the descendants of General Greene, there remained a few unfinished rooms. A tradition in the family to the effect that some great misfortune would befall it if the building were finished prevented, it is said, its completion. In the early part of the present century it was the most elegant residence on the coast.
A mound of shells, the accumulation of centuries and the result of countless Indian feasts, rose high above the southern marsh of Cumberland. A forest of live-oaks surrounded it on three sides, and at its feet ran the broad creek which wound through the marsh for miles, seeking the Sound at a point opposite the Florida shore. Here, for ages of time, the Indians of the South had resorted to feast upon the oysters with which the creek was filled. The Creek Indians—the most honorable with whom the United States ever had dealings, from whom sprang the Seminoles, and who occupied the entire territory of Georgia and Carolina at the period of the white man's advent—were the last who aided in the erection of this monument to a race now passed away. The summit of this shell-mound was levelled for the site of the house, and a terraced area of an acre or more constructed with the shells. Upon this base, raised above the general level of the island, its foundations were laid. It was four stories in height above the basement, and from cellar-stone to eaves was forty-five feet. There were four chimneys and sixteen fireplaces, and twenty rooms above the first floor. The walls at the base were six feet in thickness, and above the ground four feet. They were composed of the material known as "tabby," a mixture of shells, lime and broken stone or gravel with water; which mass, being pressed in a mould of boards, becomes when dry as hard and durable as rock. The walls are now as solid as stone itself. The second story above the terrace contained the principal rooms: the room in the south-east corner was the drawing-room in the time of the Shaws and the Nightingales. The room immediately back of the drawing-room, in the north-east corner, was the dining-room: a wide hall ran through the centre, upon the opposite side of which were two rooms, used respectively as school- and sewing-room. Above these apartments, in the third story, were the chambers. That directly above the drawing-room is the most interesting of all, for it was occupied by General Harry Lee, who was confined there by sickness, and there died. The interior of the house corresponded with its exterior in beauty of finish and magnificence of decoration and appointments.