A Bit of History
Rivers of North Florida
1825
Proposed canals in red on 1827 map. Major rivers in blue.
Click for expanded view
In 1825 Florida was mostly wilderness, parts still uncharted, and much of it controlled by the native Indians. The only cities of importance were the old Spanish cities of St. Augustine on the east coast, and Pensacola in the panhandle on the Gulf. The new capital at Tallahassee, halfway between St. Augustine and Pensacola, was hardly more than a few log buildings. Hardly a road, the Old Mission Trail connected St. Augustine and Pensacola and was used Spanish missionaries and by Native Indians before them. Any serious travel or transportation of goods between St. Augustine and Pensacola was done the long way, by ship around the tip of Florida often taking several weeks. The only settlement inland was Wanton’s on the Alachua Savana which was connected by a road barely traversable by wagon to St. Augustine. There was pretty much nothing south of Wanton’s in Alachua except for a few trading posts.
As in the northern states and territories, rivers were a primary means of transportation in Florida. The most import rivers in Florida being the St. Johns on the east coast and the Swannee on the Gulf coast. The St. Johns is somewhat unique in that it flows south to north paralleling a couple dozen miles inland from the east coast, before emptying into the Atlantic at Mayport, just east of what is now Jacksonville. The St. Johns River had been used for transportation since Spanish colonel time, while on its way north, passing about 25 miles inland from St. Augustine before emptying into the Atlantic about 35 miles to the north. Other than crossings at Jacksonville and Picolata (Palaka), the only settlements on the river were a few trading posts.
Though technically not in Florida, The St. Mary’s River, for much its length, is the dividing boundary between Florida and Georgia. With source beginning in the Okefenokee Swamp, the St. Mary’s flows eastward emptying to the Atlantic at the north end of Amelia Isand where there was the settlement of Fernandina.
The Swannee River on the other hand, though as substantial river, has never been of any significant use for transportation, primarily because it goes from nowhere to nowhere. Starting in the Okefenokee Swamp in Georgia, it flows southward emptying into the Gulf on the west coast where, except for the small fishing village of Cedar Key, there was basically nothing which is pretty much the same today. The Suwannee River is, to this day, one of the great unspoiled, natural rivers in Florida. A most interesting account is given by “the plant woman” traveling down the length of the Suwannee River in Cecile Matschat’s 1938 book “Suwanee River, Strange Green Land”35. She begins, “The birthplace of the Suwannee is in Georgia, deep in the somber heart of the Okefenokee Swamp.” She describes in great detail the plant and wildlife she encounters and the deep dark brown water hiding what she calls “cannibals of the swamp”, alligators. It looked much the same when Dad took my brother and I on a three-day canoe camping trip when we were boys. Paddling around a bend in the river and seeing ahead a large dead, bleached-white tree filled with black vultures is an image forever imprinted upon my mind. I expected them all to swarm down and eat our flesh, leaving only our bones in the canoe. Holding my breath and paddling as quietly as I could, we safely made it past.
Another river of notable importance is the Santa Fe River which originates as little more than a steam in a swampy area in north central Florida but builds to a significant size as it is fed by many natural springs along its path. A peculiar feature of the Santa Fe River is that the entire river goes underground for three miles where it then resurfaces and continues on its way to join the Suwannee River. It is a strange sight to see the river go into a cul-de-sac where the water slowly circles around, like water going down the tub drain, before sinking into the earth. The place where the river goes underground is now O’Leno State Park which our family visited when I was small child. I remember alligators laying on logs as they slowly circled at the end of the river and wondered why they didn’t get sucked down into the abys. I don’t know if it was my imagination or Dad telling a story, but I was a bit scared of falling into the water and being sucked underground. Three miles away the river in a similar but opposite manner, the river re-emerges in a cul-de-sac called River Rise where it then continues on its way. The place the river goes underground was known as long as man had been in Florida for it provided a natural crossing of the river and is where the Old Mission Trail and later the Bellamy Road would cross the river.