the business of Key West. One authority says that there are two hundred
factories, employing five thousand operatives, and transacting a
business amounting to seven millions of dollars annually. But this
report may be exaggerated. However, here are some more figures, and if
the reader is mathematically inclined he can draw his own conclusions:
Key West during 1890 turned out one hundred and forty millions of
cigars.
There are very few Spanish or American cigarmakers in Key West; the
majority are Cubans, with a very small sprinkling of negroes. There are
so many factories and so many operatives that, although it is a
cigar-producing place, very few cigars indeed are sold at retail.
Everybody smokes, every one invites you to smoke; cigars are almost as
free as the air. It would be a paradise for a young dude who has a
slender purse and who is addicted to the weed.
Upon the courteous invitation of P. Pohalski & Co., who have a branch in
Havana, with headquarters in Warren street, New York, I paid a visit to
their factory, which is one of the largest in Key West, and I was much
interested in what I saw. Pohalski & Co. erected their own factory,
upon their own ground, and it is one of the most imposing edifices in
Key West. They also built upon their own land a number of small houses
which they rent to their workmen at a moderate figure; for its size it
is quite a respectable colony.
Although very large, employing several hundred hands, the factory is
orderly, exceedingly clean and neat, showing good government. Perfect
system reigns throughout the entire establishment. The first floor is
used for the business offices, for cases of tobacco and for the
“strippers;” the whole of the second floor is occupied by cigar makers,
and the third floor is used by the “packers,” also for curing leaf
tobacco and for storing cigars in boxes.
A “stripper” is one who, with the dexter finger and thumb of the right
hand pulls the stem from the leaf while the leaf is damp, the leaf being
held in the left hand. It is done by a dexterous and quick movement, not
a vestige of the leaf remaining on the stem. The most costly leaves, for
wrappers, are only entrusted to experienced operators. The strippers in
this factory are numbered by scores. They are all females, all Cubans,
and range in age from ten years old to women of fifty.
It is not a pleasing sight to one who associates woman with habits of
refinement, to see the older women, while at their work of stripping,
smoke long, thick cigars. They hold the cigar between their teeth and
seldom remove it, not even to talk. They are rough-looking cigars,
rolled into shape by the women themselves from the leaves they are
stripping.
A more pleasing picture is presented on the cigar-making floor, above.
You will be surprised upon entering to see a man standing erect in the
centre of the room, book in hand, reading aloud. You cannot help but
notice, although Spanish may be Greek to you, that the reader’s voice is
powerful and well trained, reaching to the extreme corners and to the
most distant ears on the vast floor. He is a professional reader. The
several hundred men club together, each paying a nominal sum for the
reader’s services. In this way, while engaged in their work, they hear
the news of the day and are regaled with the latest Spanish novel.
“Packing” cigars is a technical term. It is not simply to tie them up
with pretty silk ribbons and place them neatly in a box. A packer is one
who assorts the colors also. It is a very nice and delicate piece of
work. It demands a good eye for color and long experience, and then it
can only be done in a certain light, of course not by artificial light,
nor unless the day is bright.
An overcast, murky and heavy sky is not good for packing--assorting, it
might be called. In a few hundred loose cigars placed on a table ready
for “packing,” the casual observer will probably see only three or four
colors. They are first assorted roughly to bring together those of
decided colors--light brown, medium, dark brown, etc. Then a pile of
dark or light shades is gone over again and again until the different
piles of cigars are alike, as if they were all made from one leaf and
turned out by machinery. The packer also discards a cigar that is not
perfectly made, or one not uniform with the rest. A special few, exact
as to form and hue, are selected for the top row, to catch and please
the eye of the smoker when the lid of the box is raised. A good packer
is paid better than any other operative in the business. Men and women
are employed in it, some of them earning as high as twenty-five or
thirty-five dollars per week.
The sponge trade is also a very large and important industry here. The
sponges are found in this part of the Gulf of Mexico, and the trade
gives employment to a great many people. I visited the largest sponge
house, that of Arapian & Co., and saw there in different stages, sponges
valued at a quarter of a million dollars. Such a stock of sponges, as
you can easily imagine, occupies much space. My only surprise was to
find such valuable merchandise housed in a light frame building. A fire
would spread easily, and the whole would be rapidly consumed.
I have spoken of the dirty, unpaved streets of Key West; it would be
unfair not to mention a lovely drive which you can take for a few miles
on the edge of the Gulf. You go around the old forts, you see
lighthouses and other interesting objects en route, the bracing air from
the Gulf fans your cheeks, the ocean is spread out before you, and if
you return in the early evening, and near dinner time, you will most
likely be favored with a grand sunset, and you will surely have a keen
appetite.
Key West is reached from New York by steamers of the Mallory line, and
from New Orleans by New Orleans and Havana steamers, but decidedly the
best and most luxurious way of going to the island is by the Plant line
of steamers which leave Tampa, Florida and Havana, Cuba, three times a
week. The “Mascotte” and “Olivette” were built for this route. They are
both staunch, swift, beautifully appointed ships, whose commanders were
in the Atlantic service for years, the “Olivette” being the fastest boat
of her size in the world--a model vessel.
If you are going to Key West for pleasure--it is possible for people to
go there with that end in view--you will go from New York to
Jacksonville via the Pennsylvania and Atlantic coast lines and there
take the Jacksonville, Tampa and Key West Railroad, although part of
this “railway” journey consists of a sail on the Gulf of Mexico, from
Tampa.
The island, with all its objectionable features, has churches of
different denominations, it has convents, good schools, and has one
large substantial and beautiful brick and stone building for a custom
house, for which the government appropriated one hundred thousand
dollars.
Key West has a police force numbering fourteen officers, including men
of all colors and several nationalities.
ST. AUGUSTINE.
AN ANCIENT CITY MODERNIZED.
ST. AUGUSTINE, FLA., Feb. 8, 1891.
What a contrast, to leave the dust and dirt of Key West, its unpaved
roadways, full of deep ruts, large holes and great gullies: Key West,
with its mixed population of twenty thousand negroes, Cubans, Chinamen
and white folks: Key West, minus sidewalks, and minus many evidences of
a high state of civilization: what a contrast is it to arrive in this
beautiful city of the South, with its smooth-paved streets, its clean
and aristocratic air, and its three wondrously beautiful Spanish hotels,
all within speaking distance of each other. It is like leaping, if I may
use such an expression, from hades to heaven.
The changes here within the past three years are great. Most important
to the tourist is the erection of a railway bridge which crosses the St.
John’s River. Three years ago you were obliged to stop at Jacksonville
if you approached from the north; if from the south, you steamed across
on a ferry-boat from Palatka. Now you take your seat in a drawing-room
car at Jersey City, in the North, or at Tampa, if you approach from the
South, and you need not leave the car until the conductor calls out “St.
Augustine”--thirty-one hours by vestibuled train from New York, twelve
hours by the West India Fast Mail from the Gulf, at Tampa.
As to other changes, much land has been reclaimed from the river, miles
of roadway have been asphalted and paved with wooden blocks; the old
fort is being restored, for which work the government has appropriated
$15,000; many new houses have been built, all of coquina and in the
Moorish style; to the oldest house in the town has been added a new
stone tower; there has been erected a new City Hall, which includes a
fine market; and to crown it all, as it were, there is a new church, a
Memorial Presbyterian Church, built in memory of the beautiful daughter
Mr. Flagler lost two years ago. The structure is so attractive, so
pleasing to the eye, that in driving away from it you find yourself
constantly turning around to keep its graceful architectural lines in
view as long as possible.
It is probably not possible to enhance the splendor of the Ponce de Leon
Hotel, the drawing-room of which, with its magnificent proportions, its
onyx fire-place, its ceiling decorations, its rich carpets and
furniture, and its rare paintings by Bridgman, Koppay, and other
artists, is not rivalled by any other hotel in the world. To call it
palatial is no compliment to “the Ponce” parlor, for I have seen no
apartments in royal palaces that are more pleasing, and I have been
favored with a view of many palaces in many countries. But the
approaches to the great hotel and its own grounds have been improved and
are now finished.
The same remarks will apply to the exterior of the Alcazar Hotel, the
smooth and pleasant walk around the outside of which measures just half
a mile. The colored boys know: they use it semi-occasionally for a foot
or bicycle race: “twice around the Alcazar is one mile” they will tell
you.
One of the novel features of this establishment is a swimming pool, into
which the sulphur water rushes up from the artesian well with great
force. There is room in the pool (40 by 120 feet) for scores of
swimmers, and there is always a number of visitors looking from the
galleries above on the lively scene below. With the mercury ranging
between 70 and 80 the sulphur water is indeed refreshing; and they say
it is quite invigorating. Temperature of the water, 75 degrees.
In the Hotel Cordova you will notice some changes, for the indefatigable
manager, E. N. Wilson, is never content with his efforts. There is a new
dining-room for instance. The best seems not good enough for Mr. Wilson,
and his critical eye is always finding some way to improve the house and
to add to its comfort. He has redecorated the parlor. The walls are now
richly papered but the tints are not satisfactory--to Mr. Wilson. The
furniture and carpets are in dark colors, so Mr. Wilson later on
contemplates covering the walls with white and gold for an artistic
contrast. Expensive? Yes, I should say so, but who cares for the
expense? Mr. Flagler has a very long purse and Mr. Wilson has _carte
blanche_. If the owner in planning these hotels had thought only of
pecuniary profit probably they would never have come into existence in
their present form. It is an idea with him to beautify the ancient city,
and a half million dollars more or less make little or no difference to
Mr. Flagler. Yet his hotels are conducted with a careful regard of
business-like methods, although this is not apparent to the casual
observer.
By the way, I have the very best of reasons for knowing that Mr.
Flagler’s private acts of charity are many and munificent. After making
full and proper inquiry into a case presented to him he always responds,
but he never wants his generous acts to be made public. He will not
thank me for this “mention,” I feel sure, but it is his due and possibly
no harm can come from printing it.
Mr. Flagler has bought all the land around and about his three hotels,
so that nobody can erect anything anywhere near him. He is not the man
to do anything by halves.
The sitting-room in which this is penned is one of a suite I occupy in
the castellated tower on a corner of the Hotel Cordova. The walls of
the building are of gray coquina. Outside each window is a small and
separate “kneeling balcony,” protected by ornamental iron railings,
painted a reddish brown--such balconies as you see in some buildings in
Madrid. The windows have white lace curtains and the shades are
alternate blue and crimson--contrasting pleasantly with the neutral tint
of the outer walls. To the east, within stone’s throw, is Cordova Park;
to the west, the same distance, is the one-acre park of the Alcazar,
with its tropical foliage, pretty walks and handsome fountain; while
diagonally opposite, same distance again (about one hundred feet), loom
up the terra-cotta turrets, towers, arches and gabled roofs of the Ponce
de Leon Hotel, with its grand park of four and a half acres. This may
convey some idea of the situation; to describe the scene requires the
pen if not the pencil of an artist.
The Cordova drawing-room has its tables and chairs, and it contains some
books also; not odd volumes picked up haphazard, but books bought and
selected by an artist, book-worm and connoisseur. In the Cordova library
you will find “Burke’s Peerage,” “Almanach de Gotha,” “Webster’s Royal
Red Book,” “Kelly’s Handbook to the Titled, Landed and Official
Classes,” “The County Families of the United Kingdom,” Debrett’s “House
of Commons and the Judicial Bench,” “Castles and Abbeys of England” and
“Stately Homes of England.” I have enumerated only a few of the ordinary
volumes relating to Great Britain, but there are also rare and valuable
tomes richly and beautifully illustrated, descriptive of life and scenes
in different countries. For instance, one set in three volumes is
“Masterpieces of Industrial Art and Sculpture at the International
Exhibition,” by J. B. Waring, published in 1862. This mammoth work is
richly illuminated, bound in red morocco, picked out with gold, and
measures one foot by a foot and a half. It probably cost in London
twenty-five pounds, and gives one some idea of the money and good taste
expended in selecting the Cordova library. If one is fond of instructive
books his taste can be gratified at the Cordova.
At the majority of hotels you eat ordinary oranges, brought to the table
direct from the store-room: at the Cordova only Indian River oranges are
used, selected “Indian Rivers,” and instead of coming direct from the
store-room they come from a refrigerator. After this process they become
Grateful and Comforting, to quote the names which Epps, the famous cocoa
man, gave his two daughters. Perfect quiet reigns in the dining-room.
The waiters are governed, well governed, by a head waiter whose head is
level. He would even satisfy that “cranky critic,” as he has been
called, Max O’Rell. The men, when serving dinner, wear dress coats,
black trousers and white cravats. Instead of a loose waistcoat they wear
a broad black sash around the waist, and instead of noisy boots they
wear shoes having cloth uppers and rubber soles--black tennis shoes. Not
a word is heard from the servants, except in polite response to an
order, and they glide about like dark angels.
[Illustration]
ABOUT TAMPA.
THE INN, PORT TAMPA, FLA., January 31, 1891.
Tampa is of interest historically, being the place where Ferdinand De
Soto landed May 25, 1539. From here he started on his search for the
mines of wealth supposed to exist in the new world, which resulted in
the discovery of the Mississippi river. It is here also that Narvaez,
having obtained a grant of Florida from Charles V. of Spain, landed with
a large force April 16, 1528.
Tampa is on the Gulf coast of Florida, two hundred and forty miles from
Jacksonville. There are two trains daily with Pullman cars from
Jacksonville and St. Augustine to Tampa, passing through Palatka,
Sanford and Winter Park, both having direct connection with all Eastern
and Western cities and one being a through train from New York.
Its rapid growth during the past seven years from about eight hundred
inhabitants to as many thousands, has been brought about by the Plant
system, which completed the South Florida railroad to Tampa for the
purpose of developing Tampa commercially.
Dr. Long, a United States army surgeon, wrote of Fort Brooks, at Tampa,
“This post has always been considered a delightful station.” Dr. Long’s
reports and other reports to the surgeon-general at Washington show it
to be one of the most healthful stations in the country.
Peninsulas have always been thought desirable because of their climate,
which gives them advantages over other localities, and among peninsulas
Florida is unrivalled because of its latitude and particularly as it is
affected by the warm waters of the Gulf of Mexico.
The investment of large capital in constructing a new hotel in Florida
with the expectation of drawing to it the requisite patronage, demanded
a knowledge of the requirements of winter tourists who visit the place
for health or pleasure. Those requirements have been carefully studied
by Mr. H. B. Plant, president of the Plant Investment Company, acting
under the advice of eminent scientists, in the selection of Tampa. The
new hotel is situated on the west side of the Hillsborough river where
it empties into Tampa bay, opposite to and facing the city, which is
within easy walking distance. From the river to the front of the hotel
there are extensive lawns and flower beds, with orange, palm and other
tropical trees, the hotel grounds and property including twenty-two
acres. At the rear of the house there is a long stretch of pine lands.
As you view the house at a distance, from the deck of a steamer, or from
a car window, with its long stretch of brick front, its iron and stone
trimmings, its many towers with great and gorgeous silver-bronzed,
balloon-shaped domes, each surmounted by a shining gold crescent, it
impresses you at once as being a great oriental palace. And this idea is
aided by the palms and other tropical trees and shrubs by which it is
surrounded.
The oriental idea also strikes you as you enter. There is a grand
“office,” the ceilings are supported by stout marble columns, and the
music-room, the drawing-room, and all the minor rooms on the main floor
are furnished in the very best taste, the matter of expense never
seeming to be a question with those who selected the furniture and
decorations in different parts of the world. It is safe to say that very
few winter or summer resort hotels in this country are as richly
furnished.
The hotel has been most thoroughly constructed and is practically
fireproof, the outer and inner walls being of brick, with steel beams
and concrete floors. There has been the most approved scientific work in
drainage and plumbing, and there is an abundant supply of good water. On
each floor the wide hall extends the entire length of the main
building--512 feet. There are no inside rooms. Every room has the sun
during some portion of the day, and a large number of suites have
private baths. The house is heated by steam, in addition to which there
are open fire-places in the rooms. The latest improvements have been
introduced in lighting.
The other day I was in the Savannah depot of the Savannah, Florida and
Western railroad waiting for the Florida special vestibuled train, when
I heard a colored “depot hand” say that he wished the Tampa Bay Hotel
had been built elsewhere. “Why, may I ask?” “Well,” answered my civil
and sable informant, “I am tired of handlin’ de stuff for dat hotel;
we’se been a doin’ it in dis yer depot for de whole year. But it’s
comin’ putty near de end now, I guess. Las’ Saturday der went thro’ de
depot three whole cyars filled with nutting else but cyarpets, all for
dat house.” These remarks give one some faint idea of the size of the
new hotel.
Mr. Plant did a great deal for Tampa when he ran his railroad down
there, his lines of steamers from Tampa to Havana and Mobile have
greatly helped the prosperity of the place, and now he has crowned his
good work by putting up a magnificent hotel utterly regardless of the
cost. If there was not already a Plant City in Florida, I should suggest
to change the name of Tampa to Plant City. The house will accommodate
four hundred guests; the rates are five dollars per day. It is only
open during the winter, from Christmas until the first of April. But do
not go to Tampa without your summer clothes.
* * * * *
All the above relates to the big new hotel at Tampa Bay, but all of it
is written at the Inn, in Port Tampa, distant from Tampa Bay proper nine
miles. The Inn is “little,” it accommodates only seventy-five guests,
but it is a gem of a hotel. It is built on, or rather over, the water on
piles, and is like an island, being actually surrounded by water. There
is always a pleasant breeze on one side of the house, and a breeze is
very grateful in this latitude. As I write, the mercury in a thermometer
hanging outside my bedroom window marks 75 degrees; this is at 5 P.M.,
Saturday, January 31. We sleep with open windows, and nothing more than
your pajama or a sheet is necessary for a covering.
Two sides of the dining-room are composed entirely of sliding-windows
through which you can see wild ducks and fish in great quantities. I
have seen wild ducks hauled in by the waiters through the open windows
of this dining-room. You can throw a line into the water as you sit at
dinner and if it be properly baited you will probably find a mullet at
the end of the cord before you reach your _café noir_.
It goes without saying that there are good sailing and fishing at Port
Tampa: Spanish mackerel and the pompano abound, the latter conceded by
epicures to be one of the most exquisitely flavored fish in the world.
Here also is the famous tarpon--Silver King he has been christened. In
fact Port Tampa is a very paradise for sportsmen. It is easy to supply
the table with oysters, fish and game in profusion. The table by the way
is liberally provided, and the service by Swiss and French waiters is
good.
The dining-room of the Tampa Inn reminds you of the dining-room of the
Hygeia Hotel at Old Point Comfort, not for its size, but for its water
surroundings, and the scene outside brings up recollections of the Surf
Hotel at Fire Island. Picnic Island, across the Gulf one mile, might be
a bit of Long Island. But there the similarity ends because the Inn,
unlike the Surf Hotel, is a new house and is luxuriously furnished.
Steamers leave here weekly (every Tuesday) for Mobile, and tri-weekly
(Monday, Thursday and Saturday), for Key West and Havana.
The railway depot conveying you to Tampa Bay (frequent daily trains), is
at the door of the hotel, and from this same depot you can get a through
car to Jacksonville or to New York.
The rates at the Inn are four and five dollars a day. It is proposed to
keep it open all the year.
[Illustration]
MONTEREY, CALIFORNIA.
MONTEREY, CAL., March 25, 1891.
The name Monterey means Mountain King and was bestowed on the place in
1602 by Don Sebastian Vizcaino in honor of Jaspar de Zuniga, Conte de
Monte de Rey, at that time Viceroy of Mexico. It was he who suggested
and projected the expedition undertaken by Vizcaino.
When the members of this expedition returned to Spain the place returned
to its primitive condition and nothing was heard of it till a band of
Franciscan missionaries arrived on this coast in 1768, one hundred and
sixty-eight years after the first discovery. This expedition came under
the direction and guidance of the president of the band, Father Junipero
Serra.