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Kei th h. Ashley, Vic Ki l. RollAnd,
And R ob eR t l. thunen1
The Spanish Mission San Buenaventura de
Guadalquini2 was rst established by the Fran-
ciscan Order at the southern end of St. Simons
Island, Georgia, during the opening decade of
the 17th century. For about 75 years it repre-
sented the northernmost Mocama mission.
Threats of attack by English-sponsored slave
raiders and French corsairs in the early 1680s,
however, forced its removal to northeastern
Florida as part of a widespread southward re-
treat of Georgia coastal missions. In Florida, the
mission (renamed Santa Cruz y San Buenaven-
tura de Guadalquini) was occupied from 1684
until 1696 when its inhabitants moved again,
this time to the nearby Mocama mission of San
Juan del Puerto. Though the exact location of
the original St. Simons Island mission is un-
known, we propose that the relocated communi-
ty of Santa Cruz is associated primarily with the
Cedar Point site (8Du81) on Black Hammock
Island, Florida.
In this chapter, we rst explore the pre- and
postcontact Guale and Mocama territories of
the Georgia coast, as we grapple with the pos-
sible shifting cultural afliation of southern St.
Simons Island or “Guadalquini.” Next, we re-
view the mission period archaeology of St. Si-
mons Island in an attempt to gain insights into
the location of the original San Buenaventura
mission. Following a brief overview of the mis-
sion’s history, our attention turns to the north-
eastern Florida coast as we summarize the re-
sults of recent excavations by the University of
North Florida at the Cedar Point site. Emphasis
is placed on the site’s temporally restricted ma-
terial assemblage (1684–1696) and how it com-
pares to other coastal mission sites.
The 16th-century social landscape of mari-
time Georgia included scores of native villages
dispersed along the mainland coast and on most,
if not all, barrier islands (g. 15.1). Early historic
accounts identify two primary indigenous tide-
water groups: Timucua (Mocama) and Guale.
Both maintained political organizations based
on elite lineages and hereditary leadership and
mixed subsistence economies that combined
coastal foraging and maize farming (Ribault,
1964; Solís de Merás, 1964; Barrientos, 1965;
Bennett, 1975; Lawson, 1992). The Guale3 dom-
inated the northern coastal sector, although the
precise geographical extent of their territory has
been subject to varying interpretations (see Jef-
feries and Moore, chap. 13; Blair, chap. 14; and
Thompson et al., chap. 16, this volume for dis-
cussions on the Guale). Some researchers, such
as Grant Jones (1978: 179), extend the Guale
spatial range from the lower Satilla River (Geor-
gia) to the North Edisto River (South Carolina).
John Worth (2004a: 239–240), on the other hand,
describes a smaller domain situated between the
mouths of the Altamaha (south) and Ogeechee
(north) rivers.
Two main factors account for the discrepan-
cy between these two estimates. First, Jones in-
cludes the Orista/Escamaçu (Cusabo) chiefdoms
of South Carolina in his depiction of the Guale
Figure 15.1. Georgia and northeastern Florida coast, including historic Mocama and Guale territories.
province, whereas Worth does not. Documentary
evidence indicates that the Guale and Orista/Es-
camaçu were distinct polities during postcontact
times, and archaeological data suggest a buf-
fer zone centered at the mouth of the Savannah
River separated them (Worth, 2004a: 240). Sec-
ond, Jones places the Guale’s southern boundary
along the Satilla River, a supposition predicated
on a once-held belief that San Buenaventura de
Guadalquini was a Guale mission located on Je-
kyll Island. Probably for this same reason, Larson
(1978: 120) placed the Guale’s southern border at
St. Andrews Sound, where the Satilla River emp-
ties between Jekyll and Cumberland islands. But
documentary evidence clearly places the 17th-
century Guale mission province between the Al-
tamaha and Ogeechee rivers.
Camden County, the southernmost of the
Georgia coastal counties, was home to Timucua
speakers at the dawn of European contact. In the
decades following Hernando de Soto’s entrada
through northern Florida, Europeans learned that
Timucua speakers covered a broad area, in fact,
some 19,000 mi2 of northern peninsular Florida
and southeastern Georgia (Milanich, 2004: 219).
They also discovered rsthand that the various
and dispersed Timucua-speakers were not unied
politically, but rather were a diverse collection
St. Catherines Island
Sapelo Island
St. Simons Island
Jekyll Island
Cumberland Island
Amelia Island
Black Hammock Island
Fort George Island
St. Johns River
Turtle River
Ogeechee River
Savannah River
0KM 80
of autonomous chiefdoms actively engaged in
mutually hostile rivalries and peaceful alliances
(Hann, 1996: 4). Linguistically, they were divid-
ed into at least 11 regional dialects.
Along the Atlantic coast, the Mocama or
maritime dialect was spoken by the natives of
northeastern Florida and southeastern Geor-
gia (Swanton, 1922; Milanich and Sturtevant,
1972; Deagan, 1978: 91; Granberry, 1993: 6). As
the 17th century wore on, Spanish ofcials fre-
quently referred to the coastal mainland-barrier
island region from the St. Johns River (Florida)
north to southern St. Simons Island as San Pedro
or the Mocama Province (Hann, 1996: 18; Mila-
nich, 1996: 98, 1999: 47; Worth, 2007a: 12). At
the same time, the word Timucua was used spe-
cically to refer to the natives of interior northern
Florida, west of the St. Johns River and into the
southern hinterlands of Georgia (Hann, 1996: 1;
Milanich, 1996: 44; Worth, 1998: 16–17).
Beginning with John Swanton (1922: 41,
89), Guadalquini4 was routinely equated with
Jekyll Island by a litany of modern scholars
(e.g., Lanning, 1935; Jones, 1978; Hann, 1986,
1990; Thomas, 1987; Bushnell, 1994). Ross
(1923), who correlated Guadalquini with St.
Simons Island, was a notable exception. In the
mid-1990s, relying on information gleaned from
newly translated Spanish documents along with
a reassessment of previously available archival
and cartographic evidence, John Worth (2007a:
195–196) convincingly argued that the Island of
Guadalquini was St. Simons Island not Jekyll Is-
land. The latter was in fact given the name “Isla
de Ballenas” (Island of Whales) by the Spanish.
Guided by the premise linking Guadalquini to Je-
kyll Island, past researchers erroneously situated
the mission San Buenaventura on Jekyll Island
instead of its correct position at the southern tip
of St. Simons Island (Worth, 2007a: 195).
The question is simple: were the pre- and
postcontact inhabitants of the southern end of
the Island of Guadalquini Timucua (Mocama) or
Guale? The answer, however, is not simple. Or,
rather, we think it is not. It is our opinion that a
direct ancestral (or ethnic) link between the is-
land’s 16th-century populations and those who
occupied the post-1605 Guadalquini mission has
yet to be demonstrated. Moreover, it is quite pos-
sible that a Spanish-inspired remodeling of the
social geography of coastal Georgia in the af-
termath of the 1597 Guale rebellion transformed
what had been an indigenous Guale island into
a Mocama island by the rst decade of the 17th
century. In the following discussion, we attempt
to marshal evidence that casts doubt on any pre-
sumed cultural continuity between pre- and post-
contact Guadalquini populations. In doing so, we
project a social and political dynamic onto the
coastal landscape.
We begin with what is currently known about
the occupants of Guadalquini. Seventeenth-cen-
tury visitation records identify the inhabitants of
Mission San Buenaventura de Guadalquini as
Timucua, specically Mocama speakers (Worth,
2007a: 195–196). A 1648 visitation reports that
from Guadalquini one moved “on to the province
of Guale,” providing indirect support for a Mo-
cama ethnic afliation (Hann, 1996: 176). Three
decades later a more denitive cultural link is
made to Mocama. As a Spanish emissary moved
from the Guale Mission Santo Domingo de Asao
at the northern end of St. Simons Island to Gua-
dalquini, he switched from a Guale interpreter to
one “of the language of Timucua” (Hann, 1993:
91; 1996: 234). In the early 1680s, as plans were
being made to evacuate the Georgia coastal is-
lands, Spanish ofcials suggested moving the
villagers at San Buenaventura de Guadalquini
to the Mocama-speaking mission of San Juan
del Puerto in northeastern Florida, since both
were “of the same tongue” (Bushnell, 1994: 165;
Worth, 2007a: 39). There is nothing in the pri-
mary literature to suggest that San Buenaventura
was anything other than Timucua.
What, if anything, can we garner from the ear-
liest premission documents about Guadalquini?
At present, the rst known written reference to
Guadalquini (Gualquini) appears in Spanish ac-
counts relating to excursions along the lower At-
lantic seaboard by French corsairs during the -
nal quarter of the 16th century. In the fall of 1580,
two French ships passed though the harbor of
“Gualquini” (St. Simons Sound) and soon sought
council with the local natives (Ross, 1923: 274,
276). Taking advantage of a warm reception, the
French attempted to entice the Guadalquini to
participate in a punitive plot against the Spanish
and their Indian allies to the north. Lured into an
alliance with gold coins, items of silver, and other
trade goods, the Guadalquini caciques apparent-
ly agreed to seek out allies and sow the seeds of
Spanish contempt until the French returned the
next spring to launch an assault on the Spanish
garrison at Santa Elena (Ross, 1923: 278). Al-
though the French plan of revenge, and perhaps
usurpation, never materialized, the Guadalquini
seem to have achieved some success in inciting
anti-Spanish sentiments north of the Altamaha
River, as 22 chiefs joined their alliance and 2000
warriors prepared for battle (Ross, 1923: 280).
Some researchers conclude that in A.d. 1580
the Guadalquini were Mocama, although Ross
(1923) provides no direct evidence for this in
the primary Spanish documents she cites. Both
Hoffman (1990: 280) and Hann (1996: 10) appar-
ently interpret Guadalquini’s acceptance of the
French proposal as indication of a rift between
Guadalquini and the Guale and Escamaçu to the
north. Hoffman (1990: 280) further construes
Guadalquini’s agreement to assist the French in
an attack on the Spanish and their native support-
ers as a way for both the French and Guadalquini
to “settle their scores with their enemies.” This
rendering of events, combined with the absence
of Guadalquini from all primary lists of Guale
villages and the now-known fact that the 17th-
century Mission San Buenaventura de Gua-
dalquini was occupied by Mocama, has led to
the conclusion that the Guadalquini of the 1580
documents also were Mocama.
Such an inference, however, is open to ques-
tion. First, it was the French who were intent on
revenge, not the Guadalquini. We see no unequiv-
ocal passage in Ross (1923) that implicates the
Guale and Escamaçu as enemies of Guadalqui-
ni. The Guadalquini appear to have been drawn
into the French overture more by the promise of
spoils that would make them “very rich” (Ross,
1923: 275) and less by the desire for revenge. The
fact that the Guadalquini chief (mico) conveyed
specic details of the French plan to at least two
Guale chiefs implies little concern for protecting
French interests (Ross, 1923: 276, 278). During
the 1580 encounter, the French also established
good relations with the Guale mico of Tolomato,
who appears to have been a coconspirator in fos-
tering anti-Spanish activities (Ross, 1923: 275,
280). The Guale were not united politically at
this time, as both pro-French and pro-Spanish
factions existed (Bushnell, 1994: 63). Villages
seemingly allied themselves with one or the other
foreign power in pursuit of their own agendas.
The tendency of scholars to depict the province
of Guale as politically centralized under a para-
mount chief and possessing unity of purpose
and action in their dealings with Europeans is a
criticism of recent historiography (Kole, 2009;
Francis and Kole, 2011). By the end of the 16th
century, Guale political organization appears
somewhat decentralized with varying degrees of
chiey autonomy.
Does the late prehistoric archaeological re-
cord of coastal Georgia provide any insight into
where St. Simons Island ts in relation to the
boundary between Mocama and Guale? While
we understand the dangers of correlating pot-
tery types with specic ethnic or political groups
(Worth, 2009a: 179–181), we also believe an ex-
amination of coastal Georgia ceramics can cast
light on the contact-era Mocama-Guale fron-
tier. Since the 1940s, archaeologists working
along the northern Georgia coast have attributed
the manufacture of grit-tempered Irene pottery
to the late prehistoric and contact-era Guale
(Caldwell and McCann, 1941: 3; Caldwell and
Waring, 1968: 123; Larson, 1978: 121; Pear-
son, 1978: 56; Cook, 1988: 2; Saunders, 2000a:
39–45; Deagan and Thomas, 2009). Irene pot-
tery was also produced by the Orista-Escamaçu
societies of coastal South Carolina as far north
as Santa Elena (DePratter, 2009). While regional
differences in assemblages likely exist, the Irene
series is made up of plain, incised, and compli-
cated (lfot) stamped wares, adorned with a va-
riety of temporally sensitive rim elaborations.
To the south, recent research in southeastern
Georgia and northeastern Florida has put an end
to any lingering suspicions that the St. Johns tra-
dition is the archaeological correlate of contact
(or even precontact) period Mocama (see Ash-
ley, 2009). Clearly, grog-tempered San Pedro
pottery is the signature ware of the 16th-century
Mocama. The San Pedro pottery series consists
mostly of Plain, Obliterated, Cob-Marked, and
Check Stamped varieties, but Cord-Marked,
Textile Impressed, and Complicated Stamped
types also occur in small amounts (Ashley and
Rolland, 1997). This is the same sherd-tempered
ware collected by Milanich (1971, 1972) from
shell middens at the mission site of San Pedro de
Mocama on Cumberland Island, Georgia, in the
early 1970s.
So where is the dividing line between the dis-
tribution of Irene and San Pedro ceramics along
the Georgia coast? First, it is important to point
out that the southern Georgia coast, between the
Altamaha and St. Marys rivers, has long been per-
ceived by archaeologists as a “transitional zone”
during the late prehistoric and early historic peri-
ods (Larson, 1958b; Cook, 1977; Deagan, 1978;
R. Smith, 1984; Crook, 1986). From this perspec-
tive, past researchers viewed Glynn County as
the southern periphery of Irene (Guale) popula-
tions and Camden County as the northern extent
of St. Johns II (Timucua) peoples. Although we
now know that San Pedro and not St. Johns is the
material correlate of the 16th-century Timucua
(Mocama) of Camden County, the transitional or
buffer zone idea still holds merit.
Moving south from the Altamaha River into
coastal Glynn County, there is a clinal decrease
in the frequency of Irene pottery. Although a few
sites near the northern tip of St. Simons Island
and the Kent Mound at the island’s southern end
contain occupational middens and burial mounds,
little Irene pottery has been found on the adjacent
mainland near Brunswick or Jekyll Island to the
south (Cook, 1977; Crook, 2007). The quantity
of Irene wares reported from these locales pales
in comparison to that on sites north of the Alta-
maha River. South of the Turtle River in Cam-
den County, Irene wares are rare and only occur
in protohistoric contexts dominated by mission
period San Marcos pottery (Kirkland, 1979: 22;
Smith, 1984: 74–75; Espenshade, 1985: 333).
San Marcos wares are most often referred to as
Altamaha along the Georgia coast (see Jefferies
and Moore, chap. 13 and Thompson et al., chap.
16, this volume, for discussions on Altamaha pot-
tery). There are no Irene sites reported for Cam-
den County.
A mirror distribution exists for San Pedro
pottery, but this time the gradual decrease is
from south to north starting at the St. Marys Riv-
er in Camden County. San Pedro pottery occurs
in high frequencies on sites south of the Satilla
River, particularly in the Kings Bay area and on
Cumberland Island (Milanich, 1971; Kirkland,
1979; Adams, 1985; Borremans, 1985; Rock,
2009). However, it has not been recorded for
sites north of the Satilla River in northern Cam-
den County, along mainland Glynn County, or
on Jekyll Island. While perhaps partly inu-
enced by sampling bias and lack of survey data,
the tidewater zone between the Turtle and Satilla
rivers has produced little, if any, San Pedro or
Irene ceramics.
Spanish documents of the late 16th century
portray the Atlantic coast of La Florida as a dy-
namic and volatile landscape marked by both
internal and external hostilities. The Guale were
known to have had hostile relationships with
neighboring groups, including the Orista and
Mocama (Worth, 2002: 241). In fact, during the
early days of the 1597 uprising, a group of Guale
Indians undertook an aborted assault on the Mo-
cama of Cumberland Island in an effort to kill
their chief and other Christian Indians “for be-
ing allies of the Spanish” (Kole, 2009: 77). If the
Guale and their neighbors were as antagonistic
as European accounts lead us to believe, then it
is likely that buffer zones might have existed be-
tween the differing coastal groups. As stated, an
uninhabited zone existed from just north of the
Ogeechee River to north of the Savannah Riv-
er in South Carolina, separating the Orista and
Guale groups. To the south, we propose that the
area between the Turtle and Satilla rivers served
as a wedge of unoccupied (or at least sparsely oc-
cupied) land between the 16th-century Guale and
Mocama populations (see g. 15.1).
Acceptance of such a buffer zone would place
St. Simons Island within the southern limits of
the Guale domain. The island5 has been described
as “minimally occupied” during the late prehis-
toric–early historic period by Cook (1988: 10),
although he and others note that appreciable
quantities of Irene pottery have been found at
three sites (Taylor Mound, Couper Field, and In-
dian Field) at the northeastern end of the island
and one (Kent Mound) near its southern tip (Wal-
lace, 1975; Cook, 1977, 1978; Pearson, 1977a;
Pearson and Cook, 2003). Only the latter dem-
onstrated both early and late Irene components,
which enabled Cook (1978, 1980b) to document
stylistic changes in Irene pottery over time. The
Taylor Mound was originally constructed dur-
ing the Savannah II phase (A.d. 1100–1300), but
was revived as a mortuary facility during the
late Irene phase (Wallace, 1975; Pearson, 1977a;
Pearson and Cook, 2003).
The Kent and Taylor mounds both contained
intrusive postcontact Irene burials (exed) with
east-side pottery caches and historic artifacts
that included copper coins, iron knife blades,
awls, spikes, axes, and glass beads (Wallace,
1975; Pearson, 1977; Cook, 1978). Interestingly,
many of these same items were given to the Gua-
dalquini by the Spanish in 1580 (Ross, 1923), al-
though the archaeological materials might some-
how be associated directly or indirectly with
the failed 1526 Spanish colony of San Miguel
de Gualdape (Hoffman, 1992). One signicant
shortcoming of Irene excavations on St. Simons
Island has been an emphasis on burial mounds or
other mortuary contexts.
Kent Mound, an Irene “burial mound-village
site,” is situated a short distance north of the like-
ly location of San Buenaventura (Cook, 1978: 1).
The fact that it contained 16th-century historic
burials suggests it was in use during the early
postcontact period, perhaps at the same time as
the 1580 encounter between Guadalquini and
French corsairs. Thus, it would not seem too far
of a stretch to equate the cultural afliation of
1580 Guadalquini to those Irene peoples who in-
terred their dead in the Kent and Taylor mounds.
Nearly everything about the Kent Mound shows
afnity to Irene phase mounds along the middle
and northern Georgia coast, particularly the Pine
Harbor mound on the mainland opposite Sapelo
Island (Cook and Snow, 1983; Cook and Pear-
son, 1989). Not only is the pottery stylistically
the same (including some late designs sugges-
tive of broadly shared cosmological motifs), but
so is the manner in which some vessels were in-
terred in the mound (e.g., side caches) as well as
their specic condition or modication (e.g., rim
damage, basal perforation, encrustation) (Cook,
1980b: 168). A noticeable percentage of the Irene
wares from the Kent Mound, however, were tem-
pered with grit and nely crushed grog, a paste
composition not known from any other Irene
sites (Cook, 1978: 98).
Beyond pottery, the Kent, Taylor, and Pine
Harbor mounds exhibited similar structural com-
position in the form of a shell core anked and
surmounted by sand ll. Each contained intru-
sive, 16th-century exed burials, some of which
were associated with European artifacts. More-
over, Kent and Pine Harbor, as well as Townsend
mound along the mainland north of the Altamaha
River, display “a high correlation between late
Irene ceramics and SCC [sic] symbolism, ex-
otic artifacts, and shell cups” (Cook, 1988: 19).
A conspicuous difference between Irene mounds
on St. Simons Island and those to the north is the
absence of cremations and urn burials in Taylor
and Kent mounds. Adjacent to all Irene mounds
are villages marked by scores of individual shell
heaps. While regional variation in Irene pottery
and sites certainly exists along the Georgia coast,
taken as a whole, a high degree of similarity in
refuse disposal, pottery technology, and mortu-
ary ritual suggests a shared culture between Irene
sites on St. Simons Island and those north of
the Altamaha River—a cultural connection we
would label Guale not Mocama.6 This leads to
a nal query. If St. Simons Island was a Guale
island at contact then why was the Mission San
Buenaventura inhabited by Mocama? Admit-
tedly, we do not know, but an answer might rest
in the restructuring of the cultural landscape of
the Georgia coast following the Guale rebellion
of 1597. Subsequent to the killing of ve friars
by Guale dissidents, Spanish soldiers descended
upon the Guale province and burned all villag-
es, surplus stores, and agricultural elds in their
sight (Geiger, 1936: 95; Francis and Kole, 2011:
45). In response the Guale ed inland, and “since
they were removed from the sea, they could
neither sh nor gather shellsh” (Geiger, 1936:
95). It is likely that if St. Simons Island was oc-
cupied in 1597, it was abandoned in the wake of
Spanish reprisals. With the return of friars to the
Guale province in 1605, missionization resumed,
but the social geography of Guale was different
(Kole, 2009: 69–90).
The raising of a cross at San Buenaventura
during the rst decade of the 17th century was
critical for the Spanish colony, because this new
mission represented the only barrier island doc-
trina between San Pedro on Cumberland Island
and Santa Catalina on St. Catherines Island. Ow-
ing to its strategic location, this frontier mission
would have served as a vital communication
and island ferrying point between the Guale and
Mocama provinces. To ensure success, did the
Spanish move loyal Timucua/Mocama to the St.
Simons Island to inhabit this start-up mission, in
effect, altering the invisible boundary separating
Guale and Timucua speakers? Perhaps Mocama
villagers from Icafui/Cascange who were main-
land subjects of San Pedro, or from the Mocama
mission village of Puturiba at the north end of
Cumberland Island, were relocated to the south-
ern tip of St. Simons Island. Coincidentally, the
Icafui/Cascange “were awaiting conversion” at
the time the uprising broke out (Bushnell, 1994:
67). Interestingly, Cascange disappears from the
primary literature around the same time that the
Guadalquini mission emerges (John Worth, 2009,
personal commun.). The placement of a nonlocal
Mocama population at San Buenaventura, while
intriguing, lacks documentary support at this
time. But, on the other hand, there is nothing in
the primary literature to reject such a hypothesis.
Mission-period occupation of St. Simons Is-
land was restricted temporally to the 17th century
and included the Mocama mission of San Bue-
naventura de Guadalquini (ca. 1607–1684), the
transplanted Guale mission of Santo Domingo
de Talaje/Asajo (1661–1684), the unmission-
ized Escamaçu (Colones) community of San Si-
mon (ca. 1672–1683), and the “pagan” Yamasee
settlement of Ocotonico (ca.1672–1683) (Worth,
2007a). At present, no formal archaeological in-
vestigations have been directed at uncovering ev-
idence of any of these mission period sites. This,
however, does not mean that artifacts reective of
these mission-related communities have not been
found. To the contrary, 17th-century San Marcos/
Altamaha pottery has been recovered from sever-
al locations on the island. Unfortunately, at some
sites, information regarding the quantity and con-
text of mission-period wares is obscured by the
use of broad ceramic temper groupings that likely
combine temporally distinct pottery types (e.g.,
Martinez, 1975; Wallace, 1975; Milanich, 1977).
Cannon’s Point, the northeastern ngerlike ex-
tension of St. Simons Island, has yielded mission-
period sherds. San Marcos pottery was recovered
from Couper’s Field (north and south) and Indian
Field, being most prevalent at Couper’s Field
North (Wallace, 1975). The co-occurrence of
Irene and San Marcos vessels in a pottery cache
in the Taylor Mound suggests a transitional as-
semblage (Wallace, 1975). The Taylor Mound
vessels were similar to those of the Kent Mound
(Fred Cook, 2010, personal commun.). Several
archaeologists have implicated Cannon’s Point
as the location of Mission Santo Domingo, which
was moved to the north end of St. Simons Island
in 1661 (Larson, 1980b; Thomas, 1987; Worth,
2009a). Worth (2009a) mentions Hampton (But-
ler) Point, the island’s northwestern ngerlike ex-
tension, as another possible area for this mission
(Mullins, 1978).
While primary Spanish documents describe
San Simon as 2 leagues south of Santo Do-
mingo and Ocotonico as an additional league to
the south, the archaeological locations of these
17th-century “pagan” communities are virtually
unknown (Worth, 2007a: 195). Worth (2009a) re-
cently proposed that San Simon might be found
within the vicinity of the 18th-century English
site of Fort Frederica.
In the 1681 Fuentes census, San Buenaven-
tura is recorded as “being located on the south-
ern point of this stated island [St. Simons] at a
distance of three leagues” from Ocotonico on
the Bar of Guadalquini (Worth, 2007a: 195). Un-
fortunately, little can be said at present about its
archaeological whereabouts. Larson (1980b: 38)
presents a map in which Cannon’s Point and the
St. Simons Lighthouse (at the island’s south end)
are denoted as “sites of the Spanish period that
have been identied archaeologically,” but he
does not discuss exactly what this means or what
was found at these sites. Thus, it is unclear as to
whether or not these represent Spanish mission
locations. However, a San Marcos vessel frag-
ment was purportedly part of a pottery collection
from the lighthouse vicinity (Fred Cook, personal
commun., 2010). A recent examination of the ex-
treme southern shoreline of St. Simons Island by
Fred Cook and Keith Ashley resulted in the re-
covery of a handful of water-worn sherds from
the southwestern edge of the island, about one
mile northwest (290o) of the modern lighthouse/
pier. Diagnostic wares included Savannah check
stamped, Irene lfot stamped, San Marcos line
blocked, and Spanish olive jar. Thus, the most
likely location for San Buenaventura is the south-
ern end of the island between the lighthouse on
the east and the Sea Island Golf Club on the west.
Spanish documents detailing the establish-
ment of San Buenaventura de Guadalquini have
yet to be discovered (g. 15.2). It is not men-
tioned in any of the friars’ letters of 1602–1604
or listed on visitation registers of village conr-
mations in 1606 and 1607. Its name, however,
rst emerges in a series of ecclesiastical papers
penned between 1609 and 1616 (Hann, 1996:
75). This archival information places the found-
ing of San Buenaventura likely between 1607
and 1609. The inland Timucua mission of Santa
Isabela de Utinahica, situated up the Altamaha
River, is believed to have aggregated at San
Buenaventura sometime before 1655 (Worth,
2007a: 124). Census data are spotty, but the mis-
sion is reported to have had 40 persons (men?)
in 1675 and 87 individuals older than 12 years
of age in 1681 (Hann, 1996: 263; Worth, 2007a:
37, 199–201). The latter included 45 men and 28
married and 14 unmarried women. Among the
adults were 13 chiefs—a situation that attests to
the persistence of chiey lineages in the face of
missionization and village aggregation (Worth,
2002). A 1683 census reports an adult male pop-
ulation of 43 for Guadalquini.
Other than an occasional passing reference
or inclusion on mission lists, little primary in-
formation is available on San Buenaventura
prior to the 1660s. In 1661 it is reported that a
large contingent of Chichimeco raiders moved
down the Altamaha River in canoes and rafts
and descended upon the La Florida coast, seek-
ing human merchandise meant for sale at slave
markets in English Virginia (and later, the Caro-
lina colony). This was the rst of a two-decade
long string of slave raids that targeted Spanish
coastal missions, signally what has been deemed
“the beginning of the end for Guale and Mocama
mission provinces” (Worth, 2007a: 15). Though
the island of Guadalquini was spared on this oc-
casion, it would not be as lucky in 1684. In the
spring of that year a party of warriors invaded the
community of San Simon. Although the English-
supported slave raiders were repulsed by a mixed
band of Spanish soldiers and Christian Indians
from San Buenaventura, they reemerged a few
days later on St. Catherines Island (Hann, 1996:
268–269; Worth, 2007a: 30–32). It was appar-
0KM 80
Black Hammock Island,
relocated Mission Santa
Cruz y San Buenaventura
de Guadalquini
St. Simons Island, original location of
San Buenaventura de Guadalquini
Amelia Island,
Mission Santa Catalina Amelia
Fort George Island,
Mission San Juan del Puerto
Figure 15.2. The Georgia and Florida locations of San Buenaventura de Guadalquini.
ently around this time that a briey occupied gar-
rison was placed at San Buenaventura.
The nal blow to the San Buenaventura mis-
sion was not delivered by slave raiding forces,
but rather by French pirates (Hann, 1996: 269–
271; Worth, 2007a: 41–42). In 1683, corsairs
launched a largely unsuccessful attack on St.
Augustine and then commenced to loot their
way up the coast in an offensive that included
pillaging the Cumberland Island missions of San
Juan del Puerto and San Felipe (Bushnell, 1994:
162). The following year pirates assaulted the
sparsely occupied San Buenaventura mission,
burning its church and convento. Having caught
wind of the impending mission strike, most of
the mission’s villagers withdrew to the main-
land opposite the island (possibly near modern
Brunswick), taking with them most of their pos-
sessions and surplus corn.
Spanish ofcials could no longer tolerate the
onslaught of Indian slave raiders and French
pirates, so a decision was made to hasten their
planned evacuation of the Georgia coast (see Jef-
feries and Moore, this volume, chap. 13). The
abandonment of San Buenaventura was part and
parcel of this coordinated and wholesale retreat
of Spanish missions to northeastern Florida. Thus
in 1684, the mission’s residents were relocated
to a wooded area on the northern side of the
St. Johns River, one league west of the primary
Mocama mission of San Juan del Puerto on Ft.
George Island (Hann, 1996: 271; Worth, 2007a:
198). The Spanish governor apparently wanted
the San Buenaventura villagers to move directly
to San Juan from their St. Simons Island home,
but instead settled a league away. Although the
reason for not moving to San Juan is unknown,
it appears Guadalquini preferred to remain an au-
tonomous community.
With the transfer to Florida complete, the mis-
sion received the name Santa Cruz y San Bue-
naventura de Guadalquini (or simply Santa Cruz
de Guadalquini). In 1685, visitation records men-
tion a principal chief (Lorenzo Santiago), three
caciques, and two cacicas. Of the latter is Clara,
cacica of Utinahica, the Timucuan mission vil-
lage that merged with San Buenaventura prior
to 1655 (Hann, 1996: 263; Worth, 2007a: 111).
According to the same visitation record, Mocama
living at Santa Cruz petitioned the colonial gov-
ernment to grant scattered communities of Co-
lones, Yguajas [Guale], and Yamasee residence
in their village (Hann, 1996: 271–272; Worth,
2007a: 111, 124). Although their request was ap-
proved, it is not known whether these St. Simons
Island refugees actually relocated to the mission.
Santa Cruz was said to have had a population of
300 (60 families) in 1689, a size estimate more
than double that recorded at the same time for the
provincial mission of San Juan.7 Thus, Santa Cruz
was the largest Mocama mission at this time. The
following year it was reported that Santa Cruz
lacked a resident friar, and it is unclear if a priest
ever resided there (Hann, 1996: 275). If not, it is
likely that the ecclesiastical needs of the commu-
nity were met by the missionary stationed nearby
at San Juan.
According to Captain don Juan de Pueyo, who
visited Santa Cruz in 1695 as part of a formal
visitation on behalf of the governor of Florida,
the community housed the main chief (Lorenzo
de Santiago), ve other caciques, and at least
two inihas (second in command); the named ca-
ciques included two non-Mocama Indians from
Simon and Colon (Hann, 1993: 241, 1996: 288).
This seems to clearly indicate that non-Mocama
Indians were living at Santa Cruz in 1695. With
regard to Pueyo’s inquiry as to why they had
not yet moved to San Juan, Santa Cruz leaders
blamed demands made on their time by farming
and work they did in service of the king.
Within a year, however, mounting pressure
from Spanish ofcials and “knowing clearly
how endangered they are … of being infested
by enemies of the mainland,” the community of
Santa Cruz packed up and moved to San Juan del
Puerto in 1696 (Worth, 2007a: 198). A council
house was waiting at San Juan for the villagers of
Santa Cruz, having been built at least two years
earlier. Shortly after aggregation, the Santa Cruz
cacique, Lorenzo Santiago, became the principal
chief of the Mocama province (Hann, 1996: 288;
Worth, 2007a: 198).
The missions of northeastern Florida came
to an effective end in 1702, when Colonel John
Moore and a contingent of Carolina militia and
Indian slave raiders attacked and burned all
Guale and Mocama missions on Amelia and Fort
George islands. In the hours prior to the assault
on their mission communities, the natives ed the
region for safer surroundings near St. Augustine.
Although Charles Arnade’s (1959: 15, 21) ac-
count of the sacking of San Juan in 1702 implies
that Santa Cruz still existed as a separate com-
munity, this interpretation is incorrect and based
on a later map (discussed later and depicted in
g. 15.3). However, it is possible that the former
mission location contained a small sentinel post
at this time. Spanish documents suggest that a
refugee community known as Pilijiriba surfaced
on the south bank of the St. Johns River after
Moore’s raid in 1702 or 1703 (Arnade, 1960).
Little is known about this community, other than
the fact that it housed both Guale and Mocama
Indians and that it may have contained two mis-
sion churches. By 1705 (perhaps 1704), Native
Americans had again vacated extreme northeast-
ern Florida, but this time they never returned.
As was the case with its St. Simons Island
counterpart, the transplanted Guadalquini mis-
sion was initially placed in the wrong area by
scholars. Until the mid-1990s, it was assumed
that Santa Cruz was positioned well south of the
St. Johns River, in fact, within 10 mi of St. Au-
gustine (Hann, 1990: 500). Confusion surround-
ing the real location of Santa Cruz stems from
information provided in Jonathan Dickinson’s
journal. Dickinson, an Englishman shipwrecked
along the Atlantic coast of Florida in 1696, wrote
of visiting the mission community of “Santa Cru-
ce” some 3 leagues north of St. Augustine, prior
to arriving at “San Wans” (San Juan) (Andrews
and Andrews, 1981: 65–66). However, Dickin-
son was mistaken and the settlement he actually
visited was not Santa Cruz, but Mission Nuestra
Senora de Guadalupe de Tolomato near St. Au-
gustine (Hann, 1996: 271; Worth, 2007a: 198).
A clue to the real locality of Santa Cruz is
revealed on an undated Spanish map that Hann
(1996: 298) contends was drawn between 1703
and 1705, after San Juan’s destruction by English
raiders (g. 15.3). The map shows Santa Cruz on
a mainland point or bulge slightly northwest of
San Juan Island (modern Fort George Island); a
general location supported by other documen-
tary references that place Santa Cruz 6 leagues
south of Santa María on Amelia Island (Worth,
2007a: 198). Present-day Black Hammock Is-
land is separated from the mainland by a thin
band of salt marsh divided by a shallow tidal
creek, giving an impression that it is part of the
mainland. In fact, on most early maps of the area,
Black Hammock Island is often represented by
a large mainland projection and not as a discrete
island. William Jones (1967: 2; 1985), who con-
ducted excavations on the island in the 1960s,
long suspected that the southern end of Black
Hammock Island, known today as Cedar Point,
was the archaeological location of Santa Cruz.
The name Santa Cruz may have been bestowed
upon the relocated San Buenaventura commu-
nity because it was settled near the former San
Juan visita (i.e., outlying mission settlement vis-
ited periodically by nonresident priest) of Vera
Cruz, which likely was abandoned before 1630.
In 1602, Fray Francisco Pareja reported that
Vera Cruz was “half a league” (or a little more
than a mile) from his residence at San Juan del
Puerto. Cedar Point is a mere 1.4 mi northwest
of the northern tip of Fort George Island, and
within clear view. Spanish continuity in place
names would suggest that the Cedar Point vicin-
ity was known as Santa or Vera Cruz for decades
prior to Guadalquini’s relocation.
Taking this information into account, archae-
ologically we should expect to nd evidence of
a late 16th/early 17th-century visita (Vera Cruz)
at or close to a late 17th-century mission (Santa
Cruz de Guadalquini). This appears to be exactly
what we have uncovered at the southern end of
Black Hammock Island. Archaeological evidence
of late mission-period activity, including late
17th-century majolica, olive jar, and appreciable
quantities of San Marcos, is found at the Cedar
Point site (8Du81) on the southeastern side of the
island (Ashley and Thunen, 2009). In contrast,
vast amounts of contact-era and early mission-
era San Pedro ceramics occur immediately to the
west at the Cedar Point West site (8Du63). Being
situated on the eastern edge of the island would
have been a preferred location for the mission of
Santa Cruz because it was in plain sight of both
Spanish travel along the inland waterway and the
mission of San Juan (g. 15.4).
The Cedar Point site (8Du81) is one of a se-
ries of archaeological sites at the southern end of
Black Hammock Island, a leeward barrier island
located approximately 6 km west of the Atlan-
tic Ocean and 18 km east of downtown Jack-
sonville, Florida (g. 15.5). The southern and
eastern boundaries of the site are formed by tidal
marshes, except in areas where Horseshoe Creek
(natural tributary of the Intracoastal Waterway)
breaks through and abuts the island edge. The
northern8 and western site boundaries are more
arbitrary and contiguous with the Cedar Point
North (8Du64) and Cedar Point West (8Du63)
sites, respectively. Spread over these sites is evi-
dence of more than 4000 years of intermittent
occupation, spanning Late Archaic through early
American plantation periods. Native habitations
are revealed as widespread midden deposits that
include buried shell middens and scatters, as
well as densely packed, mounded shell heaps
and ridges. The latter appear randomly distrib-
uted across the sites, occurring more frequently
near the shoreline, but extending several hundred
meters inland.
At present, much of the Cedar Point site is
covered in a maritime forest of oak, magnolia,
southern red cedar, and sabal palm. Sections of
recent disturbance and land clearing are indicated
Figure 15.3. Color-enhanced version of Spanish map of coastal northeastern Florida, ca. 1705, with red arrow
pointing to Santa Cruz and to San Juan.
by secondary scrub and herbaceous ground cov-
er. Evidence of subsurface impact varies, but in
most areas is restricted to the upper 20–30 cm.
A paved road (Cedar Point Road) divides the
northern part of the site into eastern and western
halves. Its east-central section includes the loca-
tion of a former 20th-century sh camp that now
serves as a public boat launch. The southern part
of the site once housed a series of early to mid-
20th-century homes, none of which is currently
standing. A network of dirt roads and dim trails
facilitates movement across the site.
First recorded in 1958 on private property,
the site now lies within the boundaries of the
Timucuan Ecological and Historic Preserve, a
46,000-acre preserve managed by the National
Park Service (NPS). Limited shovel testing of the
site was performed by the University of Florida
in the early 1990s (Russo, Cordell, and Ruhl,
1993). Between 2003 and 2009, the University
of North Florida (UNF) devoted portions of ve
archaeological eld schools to testing within the
broad boundaries of the site. These summer proj-
ects, which involved 2–4 weeks of work, were
a joint and cooperative endeavor between NPS
and UNF. The 2003 eld season was conned
to a Late Woodland Colorinda component in the
southern end of the site (Ashley, 2004), whereas
the 2005–2007 and 2009 eld schools focused on
the site’s mission-period component to the north
(Thunen, Ashley, and Rolland, 2006, Thunen,
2007; Thunen and Rolland, 2008). The following
summarizes the last four eld seasons.
excAVAtions (2005–2009)
Our work at the Cedar Point site involved sys-
tematic shovel test sampling and limited unit ex-
cavations (g. 15.6). Fifty cm2 shovel tests were
Figure 15.4. Map of northeastern Florida, giving location of sites mentioned in the text.
5 KM
St. Johns River
Figure 15.5. Archaeological sites at the southern end of Black Hammock Island.
Cedar Point West, 8Du63,
Village of Vera Cruz
Cedar Point North,
Cedar Point, 8Du81,
Mission of Santa Cruz
Southern peninsula of
Black Hammock Island
Southern peninsula of
Black Hammock Island
16 17
Block C
boat ramp
general boundaries of mission material
trail road
trail road
E1920 E2000 E2080
orseshoe Creek
parking area
Cedar Point Road
Figure 15.6. Cedar Point site map.
dug at 20 m intervals across the site, with reduced
10 m interval testing performed in selected areas.
In all, 169 shovel tests were excavated. Units
measuring 1 × 2 m were distributed across the
site in locations determined by shovel test re-
sults. Factors affecting unit placement included
high mission-period pottery density, presence
of unique artifacts, and identication of intact
features. In some places units were combined to
form slightly larger blocks that ranged from 4 to
18 m2 in size. Each unit was dug in 10 cm (or
fewer) levels within observable zones. Fill was
dry screened through 6.35 mm hardware cloth
in the eld, while column and soil samples were
taken to the laboratory and washed through 1.6
mm mesh. Excavations, to date, total a modest
119 m2 sample of a site area that measures about
4 ha. Unit excavations concentrated in the north-
eastern part of the site summed 57.3 m2.
site stRuctuRe
Mission-period artifacts, mostly in the form
of San Marcos pottery, came from an area about
2 ha in size. This location contained far less
shell than areas to the north and south, which
were marked by mounded shell middens dating
mostly to the Woodland and early Mississippi
periods, respectively. Shovel testing across this
section of the site revealed a low-density scatter
of discarded shell, with localized, yet thin (ca.
10–15 cm), concentrations of shell midden. It is
unclear how much construction and operation
of Buddy’s Fish Camp (ca. 1920–1990) altered
the distribution of shell heaps across this part of
the site, but block excavations revealed minimal
disturbances and little modern building debris
or occupational refuse was recovered. Mission-
period deposits are most prevalent east of Cedar
Point Road, immediately north and south of the
boat ramp access road. Vertically, this is not a
deeply stratied site. It is worth reiterating that
the Santa Cruz mission was only occupied for
12 years. The overwhelming majority of artifacts
were recovered in the upper 40 cm. Intact cul-
tural features were identied.
Analysis of the Cedar Point ceramics shows
that while Woodland, early Mississippi, and late
mission-period ceramics are well represented,
late Mississippi, contact, and early mission-peri-
od pottery types are rare. The latter, however, are
the dominant wares at the Cedar Point West site,
about 500 m to the southwest (see g. 15.5). Mis-
sion-period pottery was easily winnowed from
mixed plow-zone contexts, owing to the distin-
guishing characteristics of San Marcos wares and
the virtual absence of a contact/early mission-
period San Pedro component at the Cedar Point
site. Assigning a depositional or temporal afli-
ation to animal bone refuse and nondiagnostic
artifacts from mixed plow-zone proveniences,
however, proved much more difcult and was
not attempted in this study. Fortunately, mission-
period subsistence information was retrieved
from contextually secure shell midden layers and
features. Other than identifying the horizontal
distribution of mission-period artifacts within the
Cedar Point site, few specics can be offered at
this time about village or mission layout. We will,
however, offer some general thoughts on this top-
ic in the following sections.
FeAtuRes And ARchitectuRAl RemAins
Mission-period features at Cedar Point were
strikingly elusive until the end of the 2007 eld
season when a few pitlike deposits were exposed
wholly or partially in two contiguous units (units
28 and 30). These units, along with an adjacent
shovel test (ST-163), together yielded San Mar-
cos and colonoware sherds, olive jar, carbonized
corn cobs, and a peach pit. In 2009 an additional
14 m2 were excavated north and south of units 28
and 30. Figure 15.7, a composite map of block C,
shows a shell midden revealed at a depth of 20
cm below surface and features mapped at 40 cm
below surface as a result of the 2007 and 2009
eldwork. These features contrasted sharply with
the natural yellow brown sandy subsoil.
Features 4, 7, 9, 10, and 13 are large shell-
lled postholes that together form a right angle
suggestive of a building corner. In reality, these
postholes were lled with shell midden includ-
ing mission-period artifacts. Of particular note
was feature 13, which contained more than 20
San Marcos sherds, one colonoware, one ma-
jolica (Puebla Polychrome), one olive jar, one
Spanish storage jar, one glass bead, one Spanish
liquor bottle fragment, and one hand wrought
nail, along with bone and shell (both modied
and unmodied). Figure 15.8 depicts several
artifacts from feature 13. Older aboriginal pot-
sherds (e.g., St. Johns) were occasionally found
in post ll as well, but were assumed to be inci-
dental inclusions. In horizontal size, feature 10
was the smallest (45 × 52 cm) and feature 9 was
the largest (93 × 70 cm). Feature 10 was also the
shallowest (35 cm deep) posthole, whereas fea-
ture 9 was the deepest (83 cm). Post ll included
densely packed shell that was crushed near the
top of each posthole, likely due to tamping the
timber into place. In most cases, it appears that
at-bottomed posts were worked into the hole at
an angle, then placed upright against the opposite
wall before backlling (g. 15.9).
Features 13, 4, 7, and 9 are aligned in a row
with an orientation of 14° east of north. Feature
10 appears to be set perpendicular to the line
and west of feature 13 at an angle of 284° east
of north. Falling within the posthole alignment
are features 3 and 8, which differed dramatical-
ly from the others in terms of composition. The
former was a narrow, linear deposit nearly 1.5 m
long. The central section of feature 3 had a depth
of about 25 cm, although at the two ends, roughly
circular areas dropped to depths of more than 40
E2013 E2015
F3 F11
Dense shell post fill
Possible hearth
Less shell, abundant
Figure 15.7. Composite plan map of block C. Feature 13 is circled.
Figure 15.9. Feature 7 prole, view to the south.
Figure 15.8. Feature 13 artifacts: A, olive jar; B, Puebla polychrome majolica; C–D, San Marcos com-
plicated stamped.
cm. The southern dip (about 20 cm in diameter)
was positioned between features 13 (east) and 10
(west). This might represent a postmold, but the
feature lacked the shell midden ll of the other
postholes. It did, however, contain abundant
mission-period household debris including pig
bones. Feature 8, on the other hand, consisted of a
black, organic ll with abundant charcoal ecks,
suggesting that it served as a hearth. Surprisingly,
the feature yielded four glass seed beads, which
were not thermally altered.
Another conspicuous deposit partly intersect-
ed by block C was a thin (10 cm) mission-period
shell midden situated slightly above and immedi-
ately west and north of the right angle alignment
of postholes (see g. 15.7). This is, by far, the
most productive mission-period shell midden ex-
cavated at the site to date. It was rst encountered
at 15–20 cm below surface and had a depth of
8–12 cm. The other features were mostly indis-
tinguishable from the surrounding very dark gray
matrix at this depth, and did not start becoming
discernible until about 30–35 cm below surface.
At rst glance, the mission-period shell deposit
appeared to be within the posthole alignment,
bringing to mind some form of ooring, but the
lack of shell crushing and vast amounts of refuse
suggest it is a midden.
Compared to the oyster shell footers uncov-
ered at Santa Catalina (8Na41) on Amelia Island
(Saunders, 1993: 46), the shell midden appears
too wide to be a sleeper or building foundation,
plus the posthole alignment is set off instead of
on the shell. It might represent an apron or mid-
den along the exterior wall of a building that also
served to deect water running off the structure
roof. It is somewhat similar in appearance to the
walkway or “sidewalk” feature partly exposed
around the convento at Santa Catalina Amelia
(Saunders, 1993: 45–46), but again it appears
to represent a mission-period refuse deposit. Its
precise relationship to the posthole alignment is
unclear at this time.
Noticeably absent from block C are daub and
raw clay fragments, although a few tiny pieces
of burned clay were recovered during ne-mesh
screening. There is no evidence that the building
had been torched, and it appears that the upright
posts decayed in situ. Also lacking is architectur-
al hardware such a nails and spikes, which were
common at Santa Catalina Amelia. Because the
abandonment of Santa Cruz was a deliberate and
planned move to San Juan, everything worthy of
reuse may have been taken when the mission’s
inhabitants left. Alternatively, instead of reect-
ing a wattle-and-daub building or hand-hewn
board structure, the posthole pattern might be
associated with a more open-sided building or
ramada. At this time, not enough area has been
excavated to interpret with a high degree of con-
dence what is actually represented. More exca-
vations are needed to expand block C and fully
expose the horizontal limits of the structure.9 Re-
ported here for the rst time was an unanticipat-
ed discovery in 2005. Following the UNF eld
school, NPS personnel excavated a line of shovel
tests along the articially banked western side
of Cedar Point Road to document the degree of
roadside impact and to assess the potential for
intact subsurface deposits. The road is elevated
about 50 cm above a drainage swale to the west.
While excavating ST-88, several large bone frag-
ments were encountered at a depth of 80–90 cm
below surface. Subsequent to encountering these
remains, the shovel test was backlled. After
consultation with NPS ofcials, UNF excavated
a 2 m square (units 12 and 13), with ST-88 in its
center, to determine if this was an isolated occur-
rence of human bone or an intact burial. Only the
eastern halves of the units were excavated below
a depth of 50 cm.
Unit excavation revealed an upper 30 cm of
disturbance followed by 50 or more cm of loose,
uffy dune sand. In the extreme northeast cor-
ner of unit 12, slightly below the layer of distur-
bance, was an arc-shaped concentration of shell
that continued into the unit’s north and east walls.
Extending west from this shell feature, along the
unit’s north wall, was a linear deposit of dense
shell. Because we exposed only a small section of
this feature, the total size, function, and period of
deposition are uncertain. Moreover, the feature’s
relationship, if any, to the deeper burials is not
known at this time.
About 80 cm below surface, we recognized
two slightly darker, yet still loose, gray-brown
stains spaced about 20 cm apart. The shovel test
had penetrated the larger of the two features,
which now looked like a burial pit. Excavation
of this feature soon exposed the articulated lower
legs of an extended, supine adult burial. The up-
per portion of the skeleton extended eastward
into the unit wall and beneath the existing asphalt
road. In a separate smaller pit were the remains
of an infant (full term). The burials were in sur-
prisingly good condition given their depth, lack
of shell, and exposure to acidic sand. Once the
condition and the orientation of the burials were
determined, NPS ofcials required the units to be
backlled. The skeletal materials were viewed in
the eld by UNF bioarchaeologist Gordon Rakita
prior to reburial. The only artifact recovered dur-
ing excavation was a black, barrel-shaped glass
bead from the loose sand well above the burial.
Although excavations were too limited to
determine with certainty the cultural afliation
of the interments, burial style and orientation,
location within the site’s mission-period com-
ponent, lack of grave goods or cofn hardware,
and presence of small pieces of raw clay in the
burial pit ll suggest it is more likely associated
with the mission of Santa Cruz than with later
plantation or American period occupation of the
island. Raw clay has been observed in the mis-
sion-period burial pits at Santa Catalina (8Na41)
on Amelia Island (Saunders, 1993: 53) and San
Juan del Puerto (8Du53) (Gorman, 2008b: 8).
It is surmised that pieces of raw clay are inad-
vertently included in pit ll as a result of burials
dug through the clay oor of a church by the mis-
sion’s residents. It is worth noting that prepara-
tions are currently under way to conduct a GPR
survey of this area.
The villagers of Santa Cruz relied mainly
on the natural bounty of the local estuarine salt
marsh and maritime hammock environments
(table 15.1). With creeks situated literally out-
side their front door, shing was a focal point of
subsistence, as demonstrated by the recovery of
small seatrout, mullet, catsh, redsh, and drum.
Oyster is the dominant species in mission-period
middens/features followed by quahog and marsh
clam, stout tagelus, and Atlantic ribbed mussel,
all harvested from the adjacent mudats and salt
marshes. Terrestrial and wetland turtles were also
collected and eaten. They hunted or trapped deer,
raccoon, opossum, rabbit, squirrel, and bird. The
only domesticated animal conclusively identied
to date is pig. The primary skeletal elements of
pig recovered consist of low-meat portions of the
carcass, namely toes, possible butchered verte-
brae, and teeth. Evidence of other meatier body
parts is likely hidden in the high numbers of shat-
tered long bone indistinguishable from deer.
The villagers at Santa Cruz not only hunted
and gathered, but farmed. At present, an ethno-
botanical study has yet to be undertaken of the
carbonized plant remains from the site, but a cur-
sory inspection identied charred hickory hulls,
peach pits, oval beanlike seeds, and maize cobs,
kernels, and cupules. In a metric analysis of 42
charred cob fragments from block C, UNF stu-
dent Mike Foster (2009) determined an average
cob width of 14.1 mm and cupule width of 8.4
mm (and an adjusted cupule width of 9.6 mm to
compensate for shrinkage due to carbonization).
Sixty-nine percent of the cobs contain 8 rows.
With additional excavations planned for the
near future, our aim here is to provide a general
inventory of the site’s historic artifacts, aborigi-
nal ceramics, and items of modied bone and
shell. With regard to pottery, we report baseline
information on the range and percentages of San
Marcos surface decorations. We also present the
results of a preliminary study of San Marcos and
colonoware vessel forms based on sherd samples
derived mostly from our 2009 excavation of
block C. A more comprehensive ceramic analysis
of the entire assemblage is currently under way.
euRopeAn ARtiFActs
The mission-period material culture of the
Cedar Point site includes a variety of European
manufactured items (table 15.1). In terms of ce-
ramics, coarse earthenwares (e.g., olive jar, stor-
age jar, green bacin) are much more prevalent
than tablewares (e.g., majolica). Although 37
storage jar fragments were recovered, the ma-
jority were from block B and might be part of a
single vessel. Recognized types of majolica con-
sist of Puebla Polychrome, Aucilla Polychrome,
Aranama, or Abo Polychrome, all of which post-
date 1650 (g. 15.10). Most of these tablewares
are lip fragments, suggesting that the remaining
vessel bodies were still usable. Metal artifacts
include a small collection of hand-wrought rose
head nails and two brass objects. Other than a
coil-shaped piece of brass jewelry accoutrement,
the most notable metal artifact is a brass sacred
heart of Jesus nger ring (g. 15.11), similar
to the one found at Santa Catalina de Guale on
the Georgia coast (Thomas, 1988a: 99; Deagan,
2002: 83). Eleven glass seed beads (aqua, pale
green, or blue in color) were recovered from fea-
tures in block C, and a black glass bead was re-
trieved from the same unit as the human burials
(but well above them). A few dark green liquor
bottle fragments, including one modied into a
punchlike tool, a gunint, and four kaolin pipe
fragments round out the assemblage of historic
artifacts from the Cedar Point site.
modiFied bone And shell
An interesting aspect of the site’s mission-
period faunal assemblage is the large number of
modied pieces of animal bone. Such artifacts
are rarely reported or discussed for mission sites,
which usually focus on more formalized tools of
European origin (see Jefferies and Moore, this
volume, chap. 13 for a similar discussion). Table
15.2 presents the percentages of modied bone
by animal class from the 2009 block C excava-
tions. Two-hundred and thirty-nine bone frag-
ments (739.43 g) show direct and/or indirect
evidence of alteration as the result of secondary
human use. Modied or utilized bone often dis-
plays multiple evidence of use-wear. This situa-
tion suggests that block C might represent a liv-
Block B Block C Other units Shovel tests TOTAL
Sum Weight
(g) Sum Weight
(g) Sum Weight
(g) Sum Weight
(g) Sum Weight
Historic ceramics:
Olive jar 18 191.3 11 588.0 2 53.0 3 33.1 34 865.4
Storage jar 35 413.0 24.7 — — — — 37 417.7
Green bacin — — — 3 97.5 — — 3 97.5
Coarse earthenware — — 9 4.7 — — — — 9 4.7
Majolica 8 8.0 4 12.1 2 3.1 5 5.9 19 29.1
Total 61 612.3 26 609.5 7 153.6 8 39.0 102 1414.4
Metal artifacts:
Hand-wrought nails 4 22.6 219.6 — — — — 6 42.5
Unidentied nails — — — — — 5 80.1 580.1
Brass nger ring — — — 1 2.1 — — 1
Brass ornament 1 1.0 1 1.0
Green bottle — — 4 6.1 — — — — 4 6.1
Modied fragment — — 1 3.1 — — — — 1 3.1
Beads — — 11 .04 1 1.5 12 1.54
Gunint — — 1 3.5 — — 1 3.5
Kaolin pipe:
Bowl 1 4.9 — — — 1 4.9
Stem 3 7.7 — 1 0.7 4 8.4
TABLE 15.1
Historic Artifacts from the Cedar Point Site
ing or activity area where expedient bone tools
were modied, utilized, and discarded.
The most common form of surface altera-
tion is polishing (53% of modied bone), most
frequently seen on the exterior surface of bone.
Interior crushing of epiphyseal bone structures
as the result of hafting was rarely observed, al-
though interior polishing hints at this attachment
process. Exterior surface attrition along shaft
fragments (22%) in the form of pitting, loss of
thin layers of compact bone, lash scars, or areal
abrasion offers indirect evidence of the side ef-
fects of tip use. Another category of tool use is
suggested by a few of the long bones, which are
medially split (8%) and likely employed as broad
at-edge scrapers. Though they varied in length,
the linearly split edges are noticeably smoothed.
The ends of many long bones show a repeated
pattern of “knapping” to form a tapered point,
roughly 2–4 cm long (16%). The extreme tips
of these punchlike objects are often snapped, but
side-wear reveals light polish. One redsh pecto-
ral spine (midspine to anterior tip) is highly pol-
ished. Few double pointed tools were recovered.
The inhabitants of Santa Cruz also purposefully
fashioned a variety of rough, but efcient smaller
hand tools (26%). V-shaped tips, although remi-
niscent of spokeshave scarring, are cut deeper
into the bone circumference. V-shaped use-wear
is concentrated on the bone exterior and base of
the V. Often thermally altered, round-tipped bone
implements were identied. Again, tip-beveling
from use is seen on the exterior of this type of
tool. U- and C-shaped tips or side-modications
are less frequent. Also observed were squarish
wedge-shaped tips and asymmetrical side-wear
scrapers in which wear evidence is visible on the
interior of the surviving bone.
Single side-notching was noted on 5% of
the tool fragments. Notches are frequently as-
sociated with hafting scars. Fine cut marks and
Figure 15.10. A, Abo polychrome; B-C, Puebla polychrome, D, Majolica
Figure 15.11. Brass nger ring, unit 10.
hacked or cleanly severed butchering cuts (25%)
suggest contact with Spanish metal. Only 3% of
the modied bone displayed drilled holes. Fi-
nally, few modied bone pieces appear to have
served as personal adornment. Only one partial
bone pin and one possible bird-bone bead were
identied. The small pin fragment reveals modest
incising and a partial drill hole. Given the amount
of shatter of deer metapodials, perhaps the initial
construction of a pin took place in this area with
nishing performed elsewhere.
Quahog and marsh clams also were chosen for
detail-oriented work. One-hundred eight (1487.6
g) whole and fragmented clams bear lip and/or
edge wear. Small spokeshave lip indentions are
found on 62 shells; multiple notches on a single
shell are rarely observed. Perpendicular lip abra-
sions are more common on the shell exterior.
Clams were also fashioned into square or rect-
angular spacing or scraping tools (N = 50) with
two or more worn sides. Eight clams display deep
V- or U-shaped scars similar to those observed on
bone tools.
AboRiginAl potteRy AssemblAge
By far the dominant artifact category is ab-
original pottery. UNF excavations to date have
yielded 2706 aboriginal potsherds, of which
1373 (50.1%) are San Marcos and 188 (6.9%)
are colonowares. The remaining 43% of the col-
lection consists of earlier Woodland and Missis-
sippi period pottery types; contact-period San
Pedro wares are rare. Because San Marcos wares
are so easy to separate from the earlier pottery
types (e.g., St. Johns, St. Marys, and San Pedro)
recovered from the site, we have an essentially
pure mission-period ceramic assemblage dated
to 1684–1696. This represents the most tightly
dated assemblage along the Atlantic coast. It
offers a benchmark against which to compare
other late 17th-century San Marcos/Altamaha
assemblages (see Jefferies and Moore, chap. 13
and Thompson et al., chap. 16, this volume).
With this in mind, we use the same stylistic and
technological attributes and surface decoration
categories as Saunders (2000a, 2009) to facili-
tate comparisons with the San Marcos ceramic
Classes Comments Total Bone Modied Bone
Sum (%) Weight (%) Sum (%) Weight (%)
Deer, pig, large and medium
mammals; rarely mink, opossum,
raccoon, squirrel, small rodent
17.0 69.3 50.6 91.1
Birds Medium and very large 2.0 1.9 2.5 0.3
Reptiles Snake; small, medium, large pond
turtles, gopher tortoise; alligator 8.5 8.8 1.3 0.2
Bony sh Seatrout, mullet, catsh, redsh
and drum 39.8 4.9 1.3 0.1
Cartilaginous sh Rays only 0.2 0.1 0.0 0.0
Invertebrates Crab claws 0.2 0.0 0.0 0.0
Unidentied bone 32.3 14.9 44.4 8.2
TOTAL 100.0 99.9 100.1 99.9
TABLE 15.2
Faunal Remains and Modied Bone from Block C (2009)
collection from the relocated Guale mission of
Santa Catalina de Amelia (1683–1702) at the
Harrison Homestead site.10
Exterior surface decorations associated with
San Marcos wares from the Cedar Point site in-
clude plain, burnished, stamped, check stamped,
incised, and other (table 15.3). The latter consists
mostly of unidentied surfaces. The preponder-
ance of sherds falls into the stamped category,
which includes simple stamped, cross simple
stamped, line blocked, complicated stamped
(rectilinear, curvilinear, and unidentied), and
unidentied stamped. Simple and cross-simple
stamped make up 36.6% of the entire assemblage
by count (34.2% by weight) and 49.2% of the
stamped category by count (44.3% by weight).
Line blocked comprises 11.6% of the entire as-
semblage by count (14.5% by weight) and 15.6%
of the stamped category by count (18.9% by
weight). Complicated stamped sherds exhibit
very similar results, comprising 11.4% of the en-
tire assemblage by count (15.5% by weight) and
15.3% of the stamped category by count (20.1%
by weight). Nearly equal amounts of rectilinear
and curvilinear complicated stamped were re-
covered. The central or raised dot element of line
blocked or complicated stamped patterns (g.
15.12) is evident on 15 sherds (1.1%), less than
half the 2.3% recorded for Santa Catalina Amelia
(Saunders, 2009: 105).
Table 15.4 presents the totals for each of the
ve major exterior surface decoration categories.
Stamped comprises an impressive 84% of the San
Marcos assemblage in terms of both weight and
count. Plain surfaces are next at 10% by count
and 8.6% by weight, followed by minor amounts
of check stamped, incised, and burnished. Ta-
ble 15.5 shows how the Cedar Point site (Santa
Cruz) assemblage compares to that of the Har-
rison Homestead site (Santa Catalina Amelia).
The percentages of incising and check stamping
are very similar, but the proportion of stamped
to plain/burnished surfaces differs markedly.
The Cedar Point site displays signicantly more
Count Weight (g)
Sum % Sum %
Plain 121 8.8 847.8 7.8
Burnished 16 1.2 130.4 1.2
Simple stamped 208 15.2 1202.9 11.1
Cross simple stamped 294 21.4 2510.4 23.1
Line blocked 159 11.6 1575.9 14.5
Complicated stamped (curvilinear) 38 2.8 378.5 3.5
Complicated stamped (rectilinear) 34 2.5 459.2 4.2
Complicated stamped (unidentied) 84 6.1 844.3 7.8
Stamped with punctations 16 1.2 102.8 1.0
Stamped (unidentied) 188 13.7 1300.6 12.0
Check stamped 36 2.6 330.8 3.1
Incised 20 1.5 217.5 2.0
Other 159 11.6 959.1 8.8
TOTAL 1373 100.2 10854.9 100.1
TABLE 15.3
San Marcos Surface Decorations, Cedar Point Site
stamped and fewer plain and burnished surface
decorations than Harrison Homestead.
The only other late San Marcos assemblage
with comparable data is 8SJ3190, located a few
miles north of St. Augustine in St. Johns Coun-
ty, Florida (Smith, Handley, and Ferrell, 2004).
This site is believed to represent the short-lived
Guale-Mocama refugee village of Capuaca
(1702–1710). Testing of locus 5 at 8SJ3190 pro-
duced 331 San Marcos sherds, of which 89.4%
were stamped, 5.7% were plain, and 4.8% were
punctated (Smith, Handley, and Ferrell, 2004:
216). The latter were actually stamped rim sherds
with hollow tool punctations, bringing the total
amount of stamped wares in the assemblage to
94.3%. A developing trend among late 17th- and
early 18th-century San Marcos assemblages is
the increasing proportion of stamped relative to
plain wares.
At present, the best evidence for a structure
or activity area at the Cedar Point site comes
from block C. Table 15.6 provides a comparison
of surface decorations between block C at Cedar
Point and the proposed “aboriginal structure” and
“kitchen” of Santa Catalina de Amelia. These lat-
ter two contexts were selected for comparison be-
cause of their high incidence of stamped wares.
The percentage of stamped wares for block C is
higher than that for both Santa Catalina contexts.
Although all categories vary, the general surface
decoration prole for block C is more in line with
the Santa Catalina “kitchen” than any other pro-
venience there. Labeling the structure at block C
“kitchen” is a little premature at this time. But
the presence of domestic refuse in the form of
Figure 15.12. San Marcos line blocked with
raised dot.
a shell midden, the high incidence of expedient
bone and shell tools, and the possibility that the
structure was open-sided does not preclude such
an interpretation. A GPR survey and excavations
to expand block C are part of a research design to
be submitted to NPS in the near future.
With respect to San Marcos vessel forms and
sizes, currently available data for the Cedar Point
site derive from a sample of 30 rims from block
C (table 15.7). Simple vessels representing hemi-
spherical or straight-walled construction and in-
curving globular bowls are the most common.
Carinated, excurvate, or open rim forms—while
recognized less often—were produced in simi-
lar size ranges and median vessel sizes. In most
cases not enough vessel sherds were available
to reconstruct wall length in order to distinguish
bowl from jar forms. Unidentied (UID) rim
sherds typically were large enough to determine
orice diameter, but not deep enough to register
form. The vast majority of vessels recovered near
the block C structure are medium-sized contain-
ers (11–30 cm orice diameters). These make up
70% of the measurable ceramic data. The small-
est measurable rims are 10 cm in diameter (both
for simple rims), and two large vessels (1 open
and 1UID form) are 52 cm in diameter. Median
vessel sizes are tightly clustered between 16 and
24 cm. It appears that both storage and cooking
needs were satised by moderate-sized contain-
ers that could be moved with little trouble or eas-
ily sealed against the elements.
Besides San Marcos pottery, colonowares
are part of the site’s mission-period assemblage.
Colonowares reect the negotiated interaction
between native women and Spanish male ad-
ministrators, soldiers, colonists, and friars to re-
produce aspects of Spanish culture in La Florida
(H. Smith, 1948, 1951; Deagan, 1983). As a
result, Spanish medieval serving or tableware
forms, such as inected brimmed bowls or deep
plates, mugs and pitchers, and candlesticks were
manufactured by aboriginal potters using local
clays and generations-old vessel building and
ring techniques. Some of these forms exhibit
European-style foot rings. Other traits often as-
sociated with colonowares include burnishing—
especially interior surfaces—and red slipping (a
solution of nonlocally available hematite nely
ground and mixed with water and clay). At Ce-
dar Point, these nishing techniques varied in
application. It was not unusual to recover sherds
from a brimmed vessel on which red lming had
Count Weight (g)
Sum % Sum %
Plain 121 10.0 847.8 8.6
Burnished 16 1.3 130.4 1.3
Stamped 1021 84.1 8374.6 84.6
Check stamped 36 3.0 330.8 3.3
Incised 20 1.6 217.5 2.2
Total 1214 100.0 9895.8 100.0
Stamp Plain Burnish Incised Ch. St. Total
Santa Catalina
Amelia Island, FL A.d. 1684–1702 Sum (%) 76.1 15.7 3.9 1.4 2.9 100.0
Weight (%) 77.3 13.9 3.9 1.4 3.5 100.0
Santa Cruz A.d. 1684–1696 Sum (%) 84.1 10.0 1.3 1.6 3.0 100.0
Weight (%) 84.6 8.6 1.3 2.2 3.3 100.0
Block C
Santa Catalina
Santa Catalina
Aboriginal Structure
Sum (%) Weight (%) Sum (%) Weight (%) Sum (%) Weight (%)
Plain 7.5 6.4 9.9 9.5 15.9 13.2
Burnished 2.2 1.2 3.2 3.7 2.4 4.3
Stamped 87.5 88.6 82.6 81.8 77.5 78.6
Check stamped 0.7 0.2 2.6 3.5 0.8 0.3
Incised 2.0 3.5 1.6 1.5 3.4 3.5
TOTAL 99.9 99.9 99.9 100.0 100.0 99.9
TABLE 15.4
Five Major Categories of San Marcos Surface Decorations
TABLE 15.5
Cedar Point site (Santa Cruz) and Santa Catalina Amelia Surface Decoration
Abbreviation: Ch. St. = Check Stamped.
TABLE 15.6
Surface Decorations, Block C (Cedar Point site) and the Proposed Kitchen
and Aboriginal Structure at Santa Catalina Amelia
been applied only above the point of inection.
Occasionally we nd small, simple rim sherds
with painted zoned red-lm interiors that visual-
ly mimic an inected brim. These faux-brimmed
bowls, which we consider colonowares, are usu-
ally highly burnished.
To date, 188 (869.6 g) sand- or grit-tempered
colonoware sherds have been recovered from
the Cedar Point site. Combining these numbers
with those of the San Marcos series, colonowares
represent 12% of the total mission-period pot-
tery assemblage by count and 7.3% by weight.
More than half of the colonowares were recov-
ered from block C (59% by count and 63% by
weight). The majority of colonoware sherds rep-
resent either the thickened or reinforced points
of brim or plate marley inection or small chips
of vessel lips. The numbers of lip fragments and
incomplete marleys strongly suggest that, al-
though chipped, the container remained service-
able and continued to be used. No foot rings or
candlesticks have been recovered from the Cedar
Point West site, although we did uncover three
mug or pitcher handles, including one from block
C. Table 15.8 summarizes the results of a formal
analysis of 71 colonoware sherds recovered from
block C in 2009. Included in this analysis are 11
complete plate marley (inection to lip) sherds
from outside block C, which were added to pro-
vide information on a wider range of formal sty-
listic choices associated with colonowares.
As shown in table 15.8, both brimmed bowls
and plates were constructed in largely the same
diameter sizes (average = 20 cm); the same av-
erage diameter size is true for the San Marcos
sample (see table 15.7). The main difference be-
tween bowls and plates is wall depth. Likewise,
the two forms exhibit comparable lip thicknesses.
Although the present sample is small, brim and
marley widths appear more disparate. Marley
depths ranged from 19 to 36 mm. Sherd thick-
ness also varies between the two forms. With a
measurement taken below the thickened interior
part of the brim, the thickness of brimmed bowl
sherds averaged 6.7 mm. Plate sherd thickness,
taken from below the inection point separating
the marley and the base, averaged 7.5 mm. This
probably reects greater reinforcement of a can-
tilevered marley versus an upright or only slight-
ly excurvate brim. In somewhat of a contrast, San
Marcos sherd thickness and vessel sizes are far
more diverse. For example, San Marcos sherds
from block C range from 4.1 to 17.3 mm, with an
average thickness of 8.2 mm. Theoretically, the
same potters were producing both types and stay-
ing true to each tradition.
Exterior surface treatments were especially
difcult to identify on plate forms. Pressing a
carved paddle onto the inected underside of a
plate was certainly more challenging than deco-
rating a straight-walled simple bowl, yet the
stamping tradition persisted on colonowares.
Simple stamped and cross simple stamped (11%)
and unidentied stamped (13%) were most prom-
inent among colonowares in block C. Across the
site, however, a far greater number of plain colo-
noware surfaces were documented (26%), while
simple and cross simple stamped (14%) and un-
identied stamped patterns (17%) were recov-
ered in comparable numbers.
The frequency of interior surface nishing
for colonoware bowls varies from that of San
Marcos bowls. Sixty-nine percent of the colono-
ware bowls from block C are burnished, while
31% display interior surfaces with hard-tooled or
less compacted nishes. San Marcos wares from
block C reveal a different ratio. For this type,
there is a higher percentage of less compacted
surfaces (59%) versus burnished interiors (41%).
If we step back from the Georgia Bight for a
moment and take a broader look at Spanish mis-
sionization of the Americas, the Mocama come
to serve as another example of the myriad ways
indigenous groups responded to European pres-
ence. Although we know that the Mocama’s (or
more broadly, Timucua’s) entanglement with the
Spanish ended in their fading from the Ameri-
can landscape, details of how the nal century
and a half of their history unfolded are far from
certain. Case after case of culture contact in the
New World has shown that the process of coloni-
zation did not play out in an orderly and predict-
able manner. One reason for this should be obvi-
ous: Native Americans were active agents in the
colonial experience. And theirs was an agency
that varied along many lines including gender,
status, age, and ethnicity (Lightfoot, 1995; Sil-
liman, 2005a, 2005b; Thompson et al., this vol-
ume, chap. 16). A recognition of native agency
should not lead us to discount the active role of
differing priests, soldiers, and colonial ofcials
in the colonial encounter.
Living within a colonial setting constrained
N = 5
14–26 cm
Med. = 24 cm
N = 2
16, 38 cm
N = 7
16–30 cm
Med. = 22
N = 4
15–52 cm
Med. = 21
N = 7
10–46 cm
Med. = 16
N = 5
16–52 cm
Med. = 18
Sum %
0–10 – 226.6
11–20 2 1 3 2 2 1 11 36.7
21–30 3– 4 1 2 1 11 36.7
31–40 – 1– – – 2 3 10.0
41–52 – 1 1 1 3 10.0
TOTALS 5 (16%) 2 (7%) 7 (23%) 4 (13%) 7 (23%) 5 (15%) 30 100
Orice Diameter (cm) Lip thickness (mm) Brim depth
Brimmed Bowl
(N = 6)
N = 4
Range: 14–26
Average: 20
N = 4
Range: 4.9–5.5
Average: 5.2
N = 2
Range: 12.4, 16.4
Average: 14.4
(N = 10)
N = 7
Range: 12–24
Average: 20
N = 9
Range: 3.7–6.9
Average: 5.1
N = 11*
Range: 19.1–35.5
Average: 26
Unidentied forms (N = 4)
N = 4
Range: 12–20
Average: 12
TABLE 15.7
San Marcos Rim Forms and Orice Diameters, Block C (2009) Sample
Abbreviation: Med. = Median
TABLE 15.8
Summary of Colonoware Container Forms
All sherds in the sample are from block C unless denoted with *; N = 71 sherds
by forces of exploitation, oppression, and popu-
lation decline, the historic Mocama negotiated a
new tradition by making choices and invoking
actions that transformed and redened their way
of life. Although the Mocama of Guadalquini
were perceived by the Spanish as mission In-
dians, they retained an identity that was not
Spanish, and in the process, they continued to
distinguish themselves from the Guale along the
north Georgia coast and from other coeval na-
tive converts to Catholicism in La Florida. Even
after a century of Spanish mission life, and
against a turbulent cultural backdrop marked by
the threat of French piracy and British-backed
slave raiding, Guadalquini refused to heed to
the Spanish plea to move their community to
Mission San Juan del Puerto. Instead, they rees-
tablished themselves near San Juan but in a new
location that afforded them a degree of social
and political autonomy.
Archaeology holds the potential to provide
valuable insights into the culture–building pro-
cess during the mission period; that is, how lo-
cal native groups internalized the process of
European colonization through accommodation,
resistance, integration, and even hybridization.
Because all contact situations are complex and
uniquely conditioned by the social and histori-
cal processes specic to the groups involved, we
must approach colonial encounters from a long-
term historical perspective that crosses the di-
vide between prehistory and history (Lightfoot,
1995). We must also keep in mind that Spanish
experiences throughout the Americas also led to
an array of ways in which they dealt with indig-
enous populations that varied across time and
space. Not all colonial encounters were the same
and the specic courses these interactions fol-
lowed were far from uniform. These local stories
add to the broader effort to decolonize the ar-
chaeology of European contact and colonization.
Casting postcontact indigenous societies
as watered-down versions of what they once
were renders them passive and denies them any
culture-making ability. Mocama life under the
mission bell in the 1680s clearly differed from
that rst encountered by the French in the 1560s,
as they instructed converts to Catholicism and
Spanish moral codes and devoted more time to
maize farming. But change is nothing new, be-
cause culture is always in motion and its forma-
tion is always a mediation between local and
large-scale processes (Wolf, 1982). An empha-
sis on local histories and processes should not
preclude comparisons because the archaeology
of culture contact and colonialism is well-suited
to a comparative approach. Only through cross-
cultural comparison are we able to “discuss
some of the real commonalities” experienced by
native communities and Europeans throughout
the Americas (Silliman, 2005a: 274).
In this chapter, we have considered the con-
tact period social landscape of the Atlantic coast
of southern Georgia and northern Florida and
reviewed the history of Mission San Buenaven-
tura y Santa Cruz de Guadalquini from its estab-
lishment on St. Simons Island (Georgia) during
the early 17th century to its movement to north-
eastern Florida and nal abandonment in 1696.
While the mission was occupied categorically
by Timucua speakers during its nearly century-
long existence, we are less convinced that the
late prehistoric occupants of St. Simons Island
(Guadalquini) were Mocama. Our assessment of
the archaeological record of the Georgia coast
suggests that the island’s precontact inhabit-
ants were rooted in the Irene archaeological
culture—not just manufacturing Irene pottery—
likely making their cultural afliation Guale not
Timucua (Mocama). The social geography of
the middle Georgia coast was altered in ways
that we still do not fully comprehend as a result
of European contact, native rebellion, and mis-
sionization. As Kent Lightfoot (1995: 207) puts
it, “[w]ithout a solid grounding in prehistory,
it may be impossible to determine the timing,
magnitude, and sources of changes involved
[in cases of European contact], and to evalu-
ate whether signicant cultural transformations
were really taking place.”
On the basis of archaeological and docu-
mentary evidence, it seems very likely that the
original San Buenaventura mission was located
at the southern tip of St. Simons Island in the
general vicinity of the modern lighthouse. We
are more condent of the archaeological loca-
tion of the relocated mission (renamed Santa
Cruz), which we contend is at the Cedar Point
site on southern Black Hammock Island, Flor-
ida. Though our work at the site has been lim-
ited to 119 m2, it has been quite productive. We
have identied and bounded the primary spatial
concentration of San Marcos pottery, recovered
a range of mission-period artifacts, identied a
burial area, and partly exposed a structure. The
research potential of the site is immense, and our
1. We express our sincere gratitude to Fred Cook,
Charles Pearson, and Ray Crook for freely sharing their
knowledge and enlightening us on the archaeology of the
lower Georgia coast. University of Northern Florida students
Michael Stull and Michael Foster helped with the nal
stages of analysis and data input and we thank them. Thanks
also to John Whitehurst and the NPS staff at the Timucuan
Ecological and Historic Preserve. We appreciate the con-
structive comments of the volume’s three reviewers. Finally,
many thanks to Victor and Dave for inviting us to participate
in the Sixth Caldwell Conference.
2. Alternatively rendered in the primary literature as
Boadalquibior, Guadalquina, Guadalquine, Guadarquine,
Gualequini, Gualiquini, Gualquini, Hoadalquini, Oadalquini,
Obadalquini, Obadalquiny, and Ubadalquini.
3. In primary Spanish documents the term Guale is used
in multiple ways. It refers to a specic village, a regional
province, and a language (by extension, those who spoke the
4. Guadalquini was the Spanish name for St. Simons
Island and appears to have been used in a general fashion
to refer to natives living on the island. There is no direct
evidence to suggest that it was the name of a specic group
or village. San Buenaventura de Guadalquini is merely St.
Bonaventure of Guadalquini, again simply a reference to St.
Simons Island.
5. The northern end of the island was subjected to
extensive survey and testing by the University of Florida in
the 1970s (Martinez, 1975; Wallace, 1975; Milanich, 1977).
Robin Smith (1984: 74) reports that a 1981 survey by Sue
Mullins Moore of a large tract on the western side of St.
Simons Island “produced very little other evidence of Irene
future plans are to resume broad-scale excava-
tions to better understand the physical layout of
the entire mission community and daily life of a
refugee community trying to reestablish itself in
a time of grave uncertainty.
occupations.” Limited archaeological work, however, has
taken place in the middle and southern parts of the island, so
little is known about the occupational history of these areas.
6. Worth (2009), however, offers an alternative interpre-
tation by suggesting that precontact Mocama were living on
St. Simons Island, but that they were manufacturing Irene,
not San Pedro, pottery. No San Pedro pottery (nor sherd-
tempered Timucua ware) has been reported for St. Simons
7. This increase in population compared to the 1683
census on St. Simons Island suggests the refugees did indeed
move to Santa Cruz.
8. Mission-period artifacts covered the northeastern
part of the Cedar Point site and the extreme southern edge
of the Cedar Point North site. The boundary between these
two sites is arbitrary and dened by Russo, Cordell, and
Ruhl (1993: 39–42) on the basis of limited shovel testing
and observed difference in shell distributions. We see no
reason to distinguish between the two sites in discussing the
mission-period component. Thus we refer to the area of UNF
testing as the Cedar Point site.
9. Since this was written, UNF has conducted addi-
tional excavations in 2011 and 2012 that will be published
subsequently. Substantial amounts of daub were recovered to
the west, and the structure was determined to be rectangular
(10.5 x 7 m) and partially daubed.
10. Not only is the Harrison Homestead site the
indisputable location of Santa Catalina de Guale on Amelia
Island (Santa María), but it is also the place of the late 16th-/
early 17th-century Mocama visita/doctrina of Santa María
de Sena and the late 17th-century Yamasee settlement of
Santa María (pre-1673–1683) (Saunders, 1990, 1993, 2000a,
2000b: 8–10; Worth, 2007a: 11, 20, 28, 197). With this said,
we need to bear in mind the triple occupation of the site by
sequential Mocama, Yamasee, and Guale populations, par-
ticularly given the now-accepted notion that all three groups
manufactured San Marcos pottery during the 17th century.
Therefore, we cannot assume that all the San Marcos pottery
from the site was manufactured by late Guale immigrants.
It was also produced by the earlier Mocama and Yamasee.
Thus site contexts based on the presence of San Marcos pot-
tery might not be as exclusive to the Guale as once thought.
... At present, the popular image of the Mocama 1 derives more from European parchment than Florida archaeology. But times are changing and the archaeological correlates of the sixteenth and seventeenth century Mocama are coming into better focus (Ashley 2009(Ashley , 2013. While limited excavations have taken place at the Mocama missions of San Juan del Puerto and San Pedro de Mocama (e.g., Ashley and Gorman 2011;Dickinson and Wayne 1984;Gorman 2008;Jones 1967;Milanich 1971;Rock 2006;Russo et al. 1993), little has been reported on Contact and Mission-era sites distributed throughout the broader Mocama province, despite documentary references to the social geography of the region. ...
... Although particular layouts varied throughout La Florida, the religious compound at doctrinas included a Spanish-fashioned church, a convento where the mission's sole friar lived, and possibly a detached kitchen (cocina) and small garden plot, all of which was surrounded by a larger Native community marked by the presence of native-style houses and a large round council house (Gannon 1965:39;Saunders 1990;Worth 1998a:42). A cross also was raised in nearby villages termed visitas, and a church or open chapel might be built to accommodate the mission friar who visited the settlement as part of his ministering circuit (see Ashley 2013 for a more thorough discussion on Mocama visitas). ...
... Some time between A.D. 1600 and 1625, Mocama mission Indians ceased (or greatly reduced) making San Pedro pottery in favor of San Marcos (alternatively called Altamaha) ( Figure 3), which became the signature ware throughout all Mocama, Guale, and Yamasee coastal settlements north of St. Augustine (Ashley 2009;Deagan and Thomas 2009a;Hann 1996:86;Saunders 2000a;Worth 1997:13-14). The reason for the pan-Atlantic coastal adoption of San Marcos pottery by these differing ethnic groups is unclear, but it might have related to interaction networks (Worth 2009) or market forces (Ashley 2013;Deagan and Thomas 2009a:211;Saunders 2009:109;Waters 2009:176;Williams 2009:121). ...
In this article, the pottery production of indigenous groups living inside and outside of colonial spaces in southern Georgia is compared by identifying portions of the chaîne opératoire of pottery production. Diachronic and geographic changes to production demonstrate that groups living in the interior of Georgia were in continual interaction with coastal groups in the mission system. This interaction likely contributed to the emergence of the Altamaha pottery tradition, which spread from southern South Carolina to northern Florida during Spanish colonization of the region. This research shows that Native American groups navigating colonialism drew on a wide network of communities to alter traditions in the face of unprecedented social change.
We appreciate the constructive comments of the volume's three reviewers. Finally, many thanks to Victor and Dave for inviting us to participate in the Sixth Caldwell Conference. 2. Alternatively rendered in the primary literature as Boadalquibior
  • Guadalquine Guadalquina
  • Guadarquine
  • Gualequini
  • Gualiquini
  • Gualquini
  • Hoadalquini
  • Oadalquini
  • Obadalquiny Obadalquini
We express our sincere gratitude to Fred Cook, Charles Pearson, and Ray Crook for freely sharing their knowledge and enlightening us on the archaeology of the lower Georgia coast. University of Northern Florida students Michael Stull and Michael Foster helped with the final stages of analysis and data input and we thank them. Thanks also to John Whitehurst and the NPS staff at the Timucuan Ecological and Historic Preserve. We appreciate the constructive comments of the volume's three reviewers. Finally, many thanks to Victor and Dave for inviting us to participate in the Sixth Caldwell Conference. 2. Alternatively rendered in the primary literature as Boadalquibior, Guadalquina, Guadalquine, Guadarquine, Gualequini, Gualiquini, Gualquini, Hoadalquini, Oadalquini, Obadalquini, Obadalquiny, and Ubadalquini. 3. In primary Spanish documents the term Guale is used in multiple ways. It refers to a specific village, a regional province, and a language (by extension, those who spoke the language).
74) reports that a 1981 survey by Sue Mullins Moore of a large tract on the western side of St. Simons Island "produced very little other evidence of Irene
  • Robin Smith
Robin Smith (1984: 74) reports that a 1981 survey by Sue Mullins Moore of a large tract on the western side of St. Simons Island "produced very little other evidence of Irene