The History of Saint Augustine, Florida

by William W. Dewhurst

The incidents of that war would be out of place in a history of St. Augustine. Two of the principal characters of that exciting time were, however, brought to St. Augustine, and, with about three hundred other Creeks and Seminoles, confined in Fort Marion. Osceola, a young chief of the Mickasookie tribe, of great daring, considerable education, and great natural abilities, inherited with the Caucasian blood derived from his father, was for some time confined at St. Augustine, and afterwards removed to Fort Moultrie, in Charleston Harbor, where his body is now buried. Though captured through a base trick, Osceola had, through a sullen sense of honor, refused to escape from Fort Marion with Wild Cat. It was said that he died of a broken heart when he learned the fate of his nation, and the intention of the government to remove the remnant of the Seminoles west of the Mississippi.

The casemate in the south-west bastion of the fort has been rendered famous by the escape of a body of Indians, including the famous Coa-cou-che. This Indian, also called Wild Cat, was the youngest son of Philip, a great chief among the Seminoles. He was a man of great courage, of an adventurous disposition, and savage nature, lacking the intellectual abilities of Osceola, but possessing great influence among his nation. Like most of the young chiefs, he was bitterly opposed to the execution of the treaty signed by the older chiefs, by which the Seminoles agreed to remove west of the Mississippi. At an interview immediately before the breaking out of hostilities, Colonel Harney observed to him that unless the Seminoles removed according to the treaty the whites would exterminate them. To this Coa-cou-che replied, that Iste-chatte (the Indian) did not understand that word. The Great Spirit he knew might exterminate them, but the pale-faces could not; else, why had they not done it before?

During the war this young chief was captured and placed under guard in Fort Marion. It is reported that he was at first confined in one of the close cells, and, in order to be removed to a casemate which had an embrasure through which he had planned to escape, he complained of the dampness of his cell and feigned sickness. This, like many other incidents connected with his escape, is probably fictitious. There were at the time a considerable number of Indians confined in the fort, and unless they showed themselves querulous and dangerous, they were all allowed the freedom of the court during the day, and confined at night in the several casemates. It is probable that Coa-cou-che chose the casemate in the south-west bastion from which to make his escape, because of a platform which is in that casemate. This platform is raised some five feet from the floor, and built of masonry directly under the embrasure through which he escaped. This opening had been constructed high up in the outer wall of the casemate to admit light and air. It is thirteen feet above the floor, and eight feet above the platform, which had probably been constructed for the convenience and dignity of the judges, who doubtless used this casemate as a judgment room. The aperture is about two feet high by nine inches wide, and some eighteen feet above the surface of the ground at the foot of the wall within the moat. It is said that as he took his airing upon the terre-plein the evening before his escape, Coa-cou-che lingered longer than usual, gazing far out into the west as the sun went down, probably thinking that ere another sunset he would be beyond the limit of his farthest vision, enjoying the freedom of his native forests. That night he squeezed his body, said to have been attenuated by voluntary abstinence from food, through the embrasure in the wall, and silently dropped into the moat at the foot of the bastion. The moat was dry, and the station of every guard was well known to the Indian, so that escape was no longer difficult. Coa-cou-che immediately joined his nation, but was afterwards captured and sent west. He was recalled by General Worth, and used to secure the submission of his tribe. General Worth declared to him that if his people were not at Tampa on a certain day he would hang from the yard of the vessel on which he had returned, and was then confined. This message he was ordered to send to his people by Indian runners furnished by the general. He was directed to deliver to the messengers twenty twigs, one for each day, and to make it known to his people that when the last twig in the hands of the messenger was broken, so would the cords which bound his life to earth be snapped asunder unless they were all at the general’s camp prepared to depart to the reservation provided for them at the west. The struggle in the mind of Coa-cou-che was severe, but his love of life was strong. He sent by the messenger his entreaties that his people should appear at the time and place designated, and take up their abode in the prairies of the west. Desiring to impress upon his people that this was the will of the Great Spirit, with consummate policy he directed the messenger to relate to them this, Coa-cou-che’s dream: “The day and manner of my death are given out so that whatever I may encounter, I fear nothing. The spirits of the Seminoles protect me; and the spirit of my twin-sister who died many years ago watches over me; when I am laid in the earth I shall go to live with her. She died suddenly. I was out hunting, and when seated by my campfire alone I heard a strange noise—a voice that told me to go to her. The camp was some distance off, but I took my wife and started. The night was dark and gloomy; the wolves howled about me. I went from hommock to hommock, sounds came often to my ear. I thought she was speaking to me. At daylight I reached the camp, but she was dead. I sat down alone under the long gray moss of the trees, when I heard strange sounds again. I felt myself moving, and went along into a new country where all was bright and beautiful. I saw clear water ponds, rivers, and prairies upon which the sun never set. All was green; the grass grew high, and the deer stood in the midst looking at me. I then saw a small white cloud approaching, and when just before me, out of it came my twin-sister dressed in white, and covered with bright silver ornaments. Her long black hair which I had often braided fell down upon her back. She clasped me around the neck and said, ‘Coa-cou-che, Coa-cou-che.’ I shook with fear; I knew her voice, but could not speak. With one hand she gave me a string of white beads; in the other she held a cup sparkling with pure water; as I drank she sang the peace song of the Seminoles, and danced around me. She had silver bells upon her feet which made a loud sweet noise. Taking from her bosom something, she laid it before me, when a bright blaze streamed above us. She took me by the hand and said, ‘All is peace.’ I wanted to ask for others, but she shook her head, stepped into the cloud, and was gone. All was silent. I felt myself sinking until I reached the earth when I met my brother, Chilka.”[35]

Coa-cou-che’s appeal was successful. The messengers returned with the whole remnant of the tribe three days before the expiration of the time. They all embarked and took up their residence on the prairies, where the sun never sets and the grass grows high. It was not a field in which Coa-cou-che could distinguish himself, and from this time his name was never heard, except in connection with his past exploits in Florida.

Soon after the United States took possession of St. Augustine, the government began to make extensive improvements in and about the town. The barracks were immediately remodeled, and built as they are at present. The fort, which had become much dilapidated, was repaired and fitted for a garrison. It was while this work was being prosecuted that the cell under the north-east bastion was discovered, which has ever since been associated with the Huguenot massacre and the Spanish Inquisition, in annual editions of guide-books and tourists’ letters. It is constantly designated as “the Dungeon,” and, lest I should not be understood in referring to it as a cell, I shall also call it a dungeon, in explaining how it was found and what it did not contain. For some reason unexplained by any record left by the Spaniards, the terre-plein, near the north-east bastion, had been built upon large wooden beams. At the time the Americans took possession of the fort they found the last casemate, fronting on the court on the east side, filled with the coquina floor of the terre-plein, which had fallen in, as the timbers supporting it had rotted. Naturally, this half-filled casemate had become the place of deposit for all rubbish accumulated upon any part of the works. In the course of repairs the rubbish was cleared out of the casemate, and the entrance into the adjoining cell exposed. Entering this cell, and examining the masonry for anticipated repairs, the engineer in charge, said to be Lieutenant Tuttle, U. S. A., discovered a newness of appearance about a small portion of the masonry of the north wall. Under his instruction a mason cut out this newer stone-work and found that the small arch, under which those who now enter the “dungeon” crawl, had been walled up. Why the entrance had thus been filled with masonry is unknown, but it is extremely unlikely that it was done to insure the perpetual captivity and death of a human being. The engineer and mason entered the cell, and made an examination of the interior with the light of a candle. Near the entrance were the remains of a fire, the ashes and bits of pine wood burned off toward the center of the pile in which they had been consumed. Upon the side of the cell was a rusty staple, with about three links of chain attached thereto. Near the wall, on the west side of the cell, were a few bones. Finding these very rotten, and crumbling to pieces under his touch, the engineer spread his handkerchief upon the floor and brushed very gently the few fragments of bone into it. These were shown the surgeon then stationed at the post, who said they might be human bones, but were so badly crumbled and decayed he could not determine definitely. Nothing else was found in the cell.[36] The iron cages, which have been described as a part of the fixtures of this terrible dungeon, and which it has been said contained human bones, appear upon the united testimony of old inhabitants to have been found outside of the city gates entirely empty. It is said that, in 1822, a Mr. Deever, a butcher, while digging post holes on the grounds opposite to those now owned by Mr. Kingsland, just north of the city gates, came upon the cages and dug them up. One of them was made use of in his workshop by Mr. Bartolo Oliveros, a locksmith. The other one was allowed by Mr. Deever to lie near the city gate until it was appropriated by some unknown party. The cages are described as having had much the shape of a coffin; and the tradition is, that a human being had been placed in each, the solid bands of iron riveted about his body, and, after life had been extinguished by the horrible torture of starvation, cages and corpses had been buried in the “scrub” then covering the ground north of the gate. Doubtless these cages were used for the punishment of criminals condemned for some heinous crime; but whether they were introduced by the Spaniards or English is not known. An old gentleman, Mr. Christobal Bravo, tells me his mother has related to him that she had seen, during the English possession, these cages, or similar ones, suspended at the gates of the city, with criminals incarcerated therein. In the face of the facts it is feared that St. Augustine must lose much of the romance and melancholy interest excited by the stories of Spanish cruelty and torture. It is very probable that this inner cell at the fort was used as a place of confinement for criminals, and it is possible that some may have died therein. In fact, it was so reported and generally believed at the time the poet Bryant visited St. Augustine in 1843. Fairbanks, on page 157 of his “History and Antiquities of St. Augustine,” published in 1858, refers to the instruments of torture and skeletons walled in the old fort.

The account, as recited by the “Old Sergeant,” Mr. McGuire, ordnance-sergeant, U. S. A., gives the current legend connected with the dungeon. The sergeant alone can do justice to the narrative, in presence of an appreciative audience clustered around his smoking torch under the vaulted arch of the grim, damp cell. No pen can transcribe the sergeant’s Irish brogue, or his periods, his tones, and his inimitable expression of countenance, which seems to evince a combination of honest doubt and wishful credence in the melancholy tale of Spanish barbarity, which has proved so remunerative to himself, and so acceptable to the novelty hunting tourist. While the sergeant’s lamp holds out to burn, no visitor to St. Augustine should fail to hear his tale, “Just as it was told to me,” as he is particular to explain.

In the spring of 1875 a body of Comanche, Kiowa, and Cheyenne chiefs were removed from the West by order of the government, and sent to St. Augustine. These Indians were, at first, confined within the old fort, under a guard furnished from the post at St. Francis Barracks. They had been sent under the charge of Captain Pratt, of the Tenth U. S. Cavalry. The selection of this officer was a most fortunate choice. Through his indubitable faith in the possibility of developing the better nature of the Indian, together with his unwearied perseverance under difficulties that none but a missionary among the depraved races of men can realize, by his great tact and his patience he succeeded in demonstrating that, by proper methods and efforts, the Indian problem is capable of a satisfactory solution. Under the system adopted by Captain Pratt the guard was soon dispensed with, and the Indians treated very much as if they were a company of enlisted soldiers. They walked the streets, attended the churches, and had their school, with no other restraint or hindrance than is imposed upon soldiers. They soon acted as their own guard day and night, assumed the dress of a soldier, and many of the manners and habits of the white man. After remaining at St. Augustine for about two years, a portion of the company were sent to the Hampton, Va. school, and the remainder were returned to their native tribes, where they must yet exert a powerful influence for the advance of civilization.

It is a remarkable coincidence that the first practical demonstration of the ability of the government to elevate and civilize the Indian, and the first advance in a rational method of making citizens of the remnant of our aboriginal population, was inaugurated at St. Augustine. The evil in the nature of the Caucasian who first landed in America, upon the shores of Florida, has proved a curse and a blight to the red man. The gratifying success that crowned the philanthropic policy inaugurated by the government among the representatives of the Indian race, while prisoners at St. Augustine, will, it is to be hoped, be the harbinger of the speedy civilization of the whole of the Indian race existing in America.

CHAPTER XVIII.

ST. AUGUSTINE AS IT USED TO BE.—CUSTOMS.—THE OLDEST STRUCTURE IN THE UNITED STATES.—PRESENT POPULATION.—OBJECTS OF INTEREST.—BUILDINGS ANCIENT AND MODERN.—ST. AUGUSTINE DURING THE REBELLION.—CLIMATE.—ADVANTAGES AS A HEALTH RESORT.