ately connected with Dungeness ends
here. His subsequent trials, disappointments, triumphs, all the world
knows. His friend and partner, who so nobly sustained him, lies buried
here, so tradition says, having died in 1806 of lockjaw caused by
running an orange-thorn through his hand while removing trees from
Florida to Dungeness.

Near the tomb of Mrs. Miller is another: "Sacred to pure affection.
This simple stone covers the remains of James Shaw. His virtues are not
to be learned from perishable marble; but when the records of Heaven
shall be unfolded it is believed they will be found written there in
characters as durable as the volumes of eternity. Died January 6th,
1820, aged 35 years." And by the side of this latter another marble
slab, with this inscription, which explains itself: "Louisa C. Shaw,
relict of James Shaw, Esq., and youngest daughter of Major-General
Nathaniel Greene of the Army of the Revolution. Died at Dungeness,
Georgia, April 24th, 1831, aged 45 years."

This ends the record of the residence of the family of General Greene at
Dungeness. That they made it their home for many years is evident--that
they removed here soon after the death of the general is probable. In
the division of General Greene's possessions Dungeness became the
property of Mrs. Shaw, his youngest daughter: she, dying childless, left
it to her nephew, Phineas Miller Nightingale. Mrs. Nightingale, wife of
the grandson of General Greene, to whom this property was given, was
daughter of Rufus King, governor of New York, and granddaughter of Rufus
King, minister to Great Britain during the elder Adams's administration.
The Nightingales, descendants of General Greene, remained in undisturbed
possession until the late war, dispensing unbounded hospitality at their
princely mansion. During the war the house was occupied by Northern
troops until its close, when, through the negligence of some negro
refugees, it was burned. Its ruins alone testify to the wealth of former
years which now is departed, and the broad acreage of untilled fields
and the ruined negro cabins cry out loudly for those who will never
return to bless them.

Let us turn once more to that cemetery in the olive-grove. Another stone
claims our attention, a tablet to the memory of him who pronounced those
glowing words, "First in war, first in peace, first in the hearts of his
countrymen:" "Sacred to the memory of Gen. Henry Lee of Virginia. Obiit
25 March, 1818, aet