In leaving Fernandina we come out Amelia River, which is formed by the
tide-water from the Atlantic. We pass Old Town, one mile from
Fernandina, which has a look-out for pilots who take vessels across the
bar, besides a few houses, the residence of Spaniards. Fort Clinch is
the last noticeable point before we reach the St. John's River bar.
It is the month of January--a bland breeze greets us, when our thoughts
revert to the early settlement of this country, when the Spanish
galleons--a strange-looking craft--navigated these waters; also
ponderous old ships, with sailing figures of various devices carved on
their prows, and high-peaked sterns, the timber used being mahogany and
cedar, many of which were driven to pieces in a most merciless manner
among the breakers, thus scattering their treasures of silver and gold
on the strand, to tempt and satisfy the cupidity of those who found
them. Vessels dread this bar, as those drawing only six feet of water
are oftentimes detained when going and returning with their cargoes of
lumber. The white caps wave their snowy plumes, as a warning, when the
wind blows, which sends terror to the hearts of the timid, but the more
daring exclaim, It looks grand!
As we cross the bar we are in sight of two resorts--Mayport and Fort
George Island--both places arranged for the accommodation of summer and
winter visitors. Fishermen also live in these diminutive towns, and are
engaged, like the apostles when their Saviour called them, in mending
their nets. Shad-fishing is very profitable here during the season. Shad
abounds in this river, and being a delicious fish, it is much sought
after.
The various descriptions published from the pens of those who visit
Florida now are read by persons looking to this locality as a
winter-resort, or in search of new homes and health, as items of
unsurpassed interest. For this reason writers should be reliable in
their statements. In many tourists the emotional current is created so
far from the surface that it is a difficult matter for them to be
impressed with external objects. For this cause we meet with a multitude
of fault-finders.
Settlers living in remote localities from the St. John's River complain
because visitors resort there in preference to all other parts of the
State. If the facilities and inducements were the same elsewhere, the
desire to go would be equal; but it requires the fortitude of a
Livingstone to commence a trip into many of the most attractive parts of
Florida, with the indistinct prospect how they are to get away when
inclined to make a change. The Americans are a restless, roving people,
fond of varied scenery, and when confined where they cannot get away,
manifest very much the disposition of caged captives.
Laudonnière thus speaks of the St. John's River: "The place is so
pleasant that those who are melancholy would be forced to change their
humor." This stream, with its tributaries, is the great artery of the
State, where the savage roamed at will for nearly three hundred years
after its settlement by the Spaniards, who came in search of hidden
treasures, its former history being a page in the past. Here this river
glides before us, with its dark, coffee-colored waters, and no
perceptible current except where the tide comes in, it being a
remarkable stream, unlike any other in North America. The coloring
matter it contains is not precipitated by standing, and for this reason
is attributed to a colored earth through which it passes from the upper
lakes, together with the different kinds of vegetation that environ it.
It varies in width from one to three miles, and is thought by many to be
an estuary. From the mouth of the St. John's to Pilatka there are
numerous bluffs, some of them ten or twelve feet in height, with an
under-stratum of shells, on which elevations the pine-tree flourishes.
The cypress, ash, and cabbage-palmetto grow on the banks above Pilatka.
The weeping cypress, with its leafless, conical excrescences, called
knees, and dropsical feet, loves to be alone. It gives a friendly
erecting to the gray moss, which lives and swings from its tallest limbs
to the lowest twigs, furnishing a complete mantle of grace to the
naked-appearing trees. This moss has no affinity for the pine or palm,
which thrives in close proximity, colonizing and fraternizing in groups,
oftentimes solitary, sighing or rustling as the sea-breeze comes to meet
and kiss its feathery crowns and perennial foliage. A few of the trees
are deciduous, as the swamp-oak, ash, and poplar; most of the others are
persistent, the change of foliage occurring so quietly it is scarcely
observed. The mistletoe, with its green, tufted foliage, fastens on the
oak, and is a regular parasite--a thief--for it deprives the tree of
vitality. The mistletoe seeds are used as an article of food by the
birds, and, being thus transported to the forest-trees, adhere by means
of a gluten until germination commences.
The change of flags in 1821 produced a change with many of the citizens,
when much local information connected with the history of Florida was
lost. This province, when ceded to the United States, was divided in two
parts, called East and West Florida. Petitions were then frequently
forwarded to Washington, with a request to have it remain divided, as it
was inconveniently large. During the war which soon followed, many new
explorations were made in the hidden hummocks and intricate recesses of
the State.
The drinking-water used in Florida does not come from mountain-streams
or arctic regions, but in summer, mixed with sugar and lemon-juice, or
sour orange, forms a most palatable and healthful mixture.
Land-snakes are not plentiful, as many have supposed, there being very
few but water-snakes, which can be easily accounted for, as the intense
heat from the fires which sweep through the long grass every year
destroy them; then there are no rocks for their hiding-places, where
they could rear patriarchal families.
Musquitoes abound in some places on the coast, and to the dwellers in
tents the impression has, no doubt, been received that the air was made
of these insects. There is a due proportion of fleas in portions of
Florida, but not more than in the sandy soil of other countries.
The climate is constantly tempered by the Gulf Stream, that conducts
away the tropical heat, returning in a submarine current, the cooler
waters from the North thus producing an atmosphere of salubrious
influences and life-renewing properties.
No month is without its fresh products and fruits, while every warm day
the mocking-bird sings above our heads on some airy perch.
Many theories have been advanced in regard to the formation of _terra
firma_ on our continent, the one most generally received being that it
was all once submerged under water--as a proof of which shells and other
marine fossils have been found in elevated positions, which only could
have been placed there by the sea overflowing the land, and afterward
receding. When this conclusion is attained, Florida cannot be included,
as every year the land augments from the combined efforts of the coral
insect, _limulus_, and barnacles, together with the _débris_ which is
deposited upon them afterward. If the disturbing influences along the
shores were less, the increase of land would be much greater, as winds
and waves are as destructive to the prosperity of these subterranean
architects as tornadoes and cyclones to the growth of fine
forest-trees. The coral insect is constantly working in his briny bed,
making masonry which resists the action of the element in which it is
placed, thus laying the foundation for islands and continents. It is the
work of these madrepores and polyps that form reefs which wreck so many
vessels on its coast, thus making fortunes for those who follow salvage
entirely for a support.
The fact of Florida as a health-resort has long been established, the
proof being furnished by the length of time consumptives who come for
the purpose of lingering a little longer than they otherwise could
North, and living in the enjoyment of sufficiently good health to pursue
any lucrative vocation their tastes may decide, is sufficient evidence
of the efficacy of the climate for pulmonic complaints. Exposure in
Florida, as in other places, has its penalties affixed. Near bodies of
water a chilliness pervades the air as soon as the sun sets, which is
plainly perceptible to all delicate persons. No barometer was ever more
sensitive to atmospheric variations than the feelings of a sick person;
no magnet was ever attracted to steel more suddenly than their nervous
sensibilities to an agreeable or disagreeable object. This prescribing
invariable rules for every disease is all a humbug; the patient is
usually the best judge. The resort for invalids, when the dew and shades
of night are falling on the face of nature, is before a pleasant
light-wood fire, surrounded by cheerful companions--remembering that an
interview of the internal emotions frequently for the sick is not
beneficial. Try and keep from thinking how badly off you really are, as
much as practicable. Many have lived for years with only one lung. All
sudden changes from heat to cold should be avoided: when you are cold,
get warm as soon as possible, and when you are tired, stop--your life
depends upon it. All invalids should select a locality which best suits
their malady; then settle down, with the determination to extract all
the sweets of contentment in store for them which the world contains,
keeping their bodies comfortable in every respect, their minds free from
all exciting or unpleasant thoughts, their hearts purified while living,
and, if death comes, prepared to meet their Maker.
About ten miles from the mouth of the St. John's Laudonnière established
his Huguenot colony, building his fortification on a hill of "mean
height," naming it Caroline, from their sovereign, Charles IX., of
France, now known as St. John's Bluff. The former site of Fort Caroline
can be traced with some degree of accuracy, from the fact of this being
the first point on the river above its mouth where its banks are
approached by the stream, besides being the only elevated spot where a
fort could be built between the St. John's Bluff and the mouth of the
river. As Fort Caroline was constructed more than three hundred years
ago, from materials of so perishable a nature--being pine-logs and
sand--none of it remains to be seen at the present day.
The first lumber-mills on the St. John's are located near the estate of
Marquis de Talleyrand, eight miles from Jacksonville. The busy hum of
industry now echoes from the shores, where pine-logs are being sawed
into material for making houses, not only in Florida, but in Boston and
other Northern cities. Mr. Clark's mill, in East Jacksonville, received
an order, after the big Boston fire, for a million feet at one time.
These mills, besides being a source of revenue to the owners, furnish
work for the poor, and the refuse pieces fuel, while in cold weather the
big fires that consume the slabs afford a free lodging for benighted
travelers; also for those who have no good houses, and would be
unwelcome visitors in almost any place.
Twenty-five miles from the sea, on the banks of the St. John's, once
stood an insignificant place, known as Cow Ford, but now the line,
thriving city of Jacksonville, named in honor of General Andrew Jackson.
This city is the head-center of Florida, where visitors can come, and
stay, with no prospect of starving, and from which place they can
migrate when and where they please, with ample facilities furnished them
at all times for the furtherance of their plans.
A combination of singular emotions here seizes the Northern visitor,
after being transported in midwinter from his frozen home to a clime
where every thing is fresh and blooming, where the market is furnished
with cabbages, sweet potatoes, lettuce, turnips, green peas, and
radishes, just gathered, besides strawberries red as the blush of morn,
with bouquets of rose-buds, upon which still lingers the morning
dew-drop.
Many persons come here with unhappy temperaments, to whom peace and
contentment in any place, or under all circumstances, has been
deficient, but always vainly expecting to find happiness hanging on
every new object they meet, waiting for them to pluck; but,
unfortunately, it hangs so high they can never reach it--when they
commence abusing every thing with which they come in contact. We hear
them constantly exclaiming, "Too much sand! too little to eat! too high
prices for things!" Nothing can please them. Their faces are drawn up in
disgust, and their tongues ready to strike with the venom of contempt,
at every person who has a good word to say in favor of Florida.
The unbroken quiet which has been with us since we left Savannah is
interrupted as soon as the steamer touches the Jacksonville wharf. We
are importuned and jostled on every side by black boys, dray and
carriage-drivers, who worry us for our baggage, raising their whips with
the imperious movement of a major-general, and suddenly lowering them at
half mast when we say, No! Then the officious hotel-runners, who scream
in our ears to patronize the houses that employ them, until we are on
the verge of desperation, and feel as though the plagues of Egypt could
not have been worse. Most of these public criers are dirty, ragged, and
lazy, having no legitimate vocation, except what they can make from
visitors, or in drumming for boarding-houses. This city has fine
accommodations, and for that reason receives more envy than admiration
from other Florida towns. It can furnish more than one hundred good
places of entertainment, among which may be found several colossal
hotels, capable of containing two or three hundred guests, also
boarding-houses of less pretentious dimensions, where, no doubt, a
nearer approximation to the acknowledgment for value received is oftener
realized. Selections can be made where money may be expended rapidly or
slowly, according to the inclination of the visitor. Here, as in other
places, we meet with boarding-house complainers. This class of grumblers
must remember that hotel-keepers stand fault-finding as quietly as a
delinquent schoolboy his deserved punishment; they are used to it; they
expect it, and would be disappointed if they did not get it.
The influx of visitors commences sooner some seasons than others. The
first cold blast from the North sends the feeble invalid South to bask
in the summer sunshine of a milder atmosphere, and when spring comes he
returns home like the migratory birds.
Jacksonville and its adjacent towns number a population of over twelve
thousand inhabitants, the whole area being three miles long and about
two wide. The different names given to this small space of country looks
larger on the map than in reality. These corporations are distinguished
from each other by the names of Jacksonville, East Jacksonville,
Brooklyn, La Villa, Riverside, Springfield, Hansom Town, etc.--each town
containing, from fifty to fifteen hundred houses. The inhabitants say
they were laid out into lots and named, with the expectation of a large
increase of persons; consequently there are desirable building-spots in
these surveyed sites for growing cities, for sale at all times upon
moderate terms.
Jacksonville makes a display of architectural skill, in which are seen
the improvements of the nineteenth century. Yards and lawns are laid out
fronting many of the residences, where the beauties of landscape
gardening may be found blending in harmony with the
artistically-arranged walks and pleasure promenades. The sidewalks are
made of plank and brick, shaded and overhung with live-oaks, forming
archways of inviting appearance, from which swings pendant moss,
presenting a perennial, picturesque scene of nature's grandeur. There
are over twenty church-edifices in and around the city, where both white
and colored people come to worship in crowds. We are happy to state
these statistics find the inhabitants in a much better spiritual
condition than has been represented. However, we have no partiality for
many of the doctrines preached by itinerant reformers who come here. We
prefer our old orthodox faith, which made us contented while we lived,
and carried us to heaven when we died. But these new isms, such as
Spiritualism, Liberalism, Free-loveism, and every other species of
modernized infidelity that is now gaining ground and receiving
accessions from our Sunny South, are designed only to delude and drown
the souls of their followers in eternal misery. The Churches here are
representatives of various creeds and beliefs--Methodist, Presbyterian,
Protestant Episcopalian, and Roman Catholic.
The Sabbath dawns in Florida with its recreations and steam-boat
excursions, well patronized by Northern visitors, as very few appear to
bring their religion when they come South.
Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe is here to-day from her home in Mandarin, for
the purpose of attending church. Dr. Stowe, her husband, accompanies her
as he preaches. When they both entered the Southern Methodist church a
slight rustle was heard in the congregation, and a few persons left the
house. Mr. and Mrs. Uncle Tom were more than a Sabbath dose for some of
the Jacksonville community. Harriet B. has no resemblance to a
perpetrator of discord or scandal, or one who has swayed the
divining-rod of Abolitionism with sufficient potency to immortalize
herself for many coming generations, or probed the private life of a man
who, during the period of his checkered existence, never carved out
virtue for his shrine. The three snowy curls on each side of her face
give her a matronly look, and her stout-built frame, well covered with
flesh, a substantial appearance.
The service was opened by a very long prayer from Dr. Stowe, after which
he preached a purely orthodox sermon on the subject of godliness. Mrs.
Harriet had confidence in the ability of her husband; she knew the
discourse would be right without her vigilant eye, and she went to
sleep. Like other sleepers, she nodded naturally; her digits were
concealed beneath kid covers, and thrusting at no one. She looked the
picture of content, and was no doubt dreaming of that far-off,
beautiful country, where those who create dissensions and stir up
strife can never enter.
Places of worship have had an existence for both colors throughout the
entire South since the country was settled, the negroes being naturally
inclined to religion more than the whites. The African Church has always
been a full-developed institution, attended with its peculiarities and
noisy accompaniments, where the colored zealots could always give vent
to their religious enthusiasm by howling their emotional feelings among
others equally excited. The preacher usually leads the singing with his
loud, soul-stirring strains, manifesting much fervor, sometimes
improvising a strain or two with his own invention, if the rhyme and
tune do not measure equal.
The following is a correct copy of an original sermon delivered by a
very black Baptist brother to a Jacksonville colored congregation a
short time previous to the Freedmen's Bank explosion, which appears
prophetic in regard to that swindling institution. The text was, "Lay up
for yourselves treasure in heaven":
"MY DEAR BREDREN:--De Lord is here to-day, goin' from de African to de
white folks church, ridin' on a milk-white steed in de air. He knows all
yer hearts, and what you're thinkin' about. Ef yer hearts are not right,
dey must all undergo a radical change until dey are made good. De Lord
taught his disciples on de lake of Genesis, and I'm now telling you all
de way do do. I 'spec you all cum to de house of de Lord just kase yer
friends are here. While yer preacher is tryin' to permulgate de gospel,
you is lookin' down de street to see what is comin', and den you're
thinkin' about what you will wear to-night when you come to preachin',
payin' no attention to me, who is tryin' to save yer souls.
"O my bredren, dis is a fine new meetin'-house, but we should all seek a
house whose builder and maker is de great Lord! Labor not for de
perishin', spilin' meat!
"Last night was Saturday, and you have spent most of yer week's wages
and earnin's, dun put de rest in de Freedmen Savin' Bank, and you don't
know as you'll ever see it any more in dis world! Somebody may git it,
or you may die, and den you will leave it. How much did you bring here
for de Lord? O my bredren, when dem jerudic angels come you will be
sorry you haven't done more for de Lord! When dey come, ef you hasn't
dun nothin' for yer blessed Jesus, den dey will not say, 'Come, ye
blessed, home!'
"You must do nothin' wrong ef yer want ter git up by dat great white
throne among dem snow-white angels, and be one yerselves. You must never
cuss or drink any whisky. Paul told Timothy his son to drink some wine
when he had de stumak-ake. My bredren, don't think yer sufferin' when
yer not, jest for an excuse to git a dram. Old Master in heaven knows
when yer sure enuff sick! Can't fool him about nothin'!"
Journalism in Jacksonville is commencing to rest on a firmer basis than
heretofore. The present population demand more knowledge on the subject
of the country, consequently papers and periodicals published in the
interest of the State are much sought after. The _Semi-tropical_, a
monthly established here, will be found to contain both readable and
reliable articles on the climate and various products of Florida. The
_Sun and Press_ is a daily democratic paper, unswerving in its efforts
to inculcate correct principles among those in power. There were other
organs whose politics was gauged for the season, and since the war until
now have been on the winning side, the Republicans being in the
majority. The ephemeral existence of newspapers has passed away here,
and the morning news, fresh and well printed, containing the latest
telegrams, are found lying on the breakfast-table, furnishing a potent
auxiliary to the peace and happiness of the household.
The privilege of doing as one pleases is not to be overlooked in
Jacksonville. No costumes, however peculiar, appear out of style, or the
wearers, as in some other places, obliged to seek protection from the
police. Celebrities or millionaires walk the streets without creating
any sensation. The Mormon, with his four or fourteen wives, can come
from Salt Lake City, take rooms at the St. James, enter all the
frequented resorts with the same fear from molestation that a genuine
Floridian feels of being Ku-Kluxed. Any strong-minded market-woman can
don the Bloomer costume, make and sell sugar, brown as her own
bun-colored face, and peddle vegetables verdant as the idea which
prompted her to forsake the flowing robes of her fair sisters, and
assume the half masculine attire of the sterner sex, without attracting
any more attention than the lazy loungers in the market-house. The
citizens are so accustomed to sight-seeing that nothing would astonish
them but an honest politician.
Unfortunately for all parties concerned, this winter there is a large
influx of men in search of employment, fifty looking for situations with
only one vacancy. It is well to come prepared for all exigencies, and
bring a tent to stop in, provided nothing better presents itself. The
woods, waters, and oyster-bars are free to all; but boarding-house
keepers, from the pressure of surrounding circumstances, have a
peculiarly persistent way of watching strangers closely and
_interviewing_ them frequently, particularly if there is a suspicion
that funds are running low with them. Camping in the open air in this
genial clime is pleasanter than would be imagined by persons not
accustomed to it, and is accompanied with more peace of mind than being
dunned for board-bills without money to pay them.
Pleasant places of resort are springing up in the vicinity of
Jacksonville, which furnish lovely drives behind some of the teams kept
in the city. Moncrief Springs, four miles distant, now appears to be the
most popular resort. Here the orange marmalade factory may be visited--a
recently-developed branch of industry--making use of the wild oranges
which flourish so abundantly throughout the State without culture. Many
other improvements have been made at this place--bath-houses,
bowling-alley, dancing-saloon, and restaurant--all of which contribute
much to the diversion of strangers.
Visitors always form an idea of the cultivation or ignorance of a
locality by the manner in which the dead are cared for, together with
the various styles of monuments, inscriptions upon the tablets, neatness
and taste displayed in the surroundings. Upon this hypothesis a
favorable conclusion would be formed in regard to the Jacksonville
cemetery, which last resting-place of its citizens is pleasantly located
on a slightly elevated piece of ground beyond the city. It was on the
Sabbath we visited it, when all kinds of people were present. Some of
them were much stricken with grief, while others came for recreation. It
is really very surprising why so many persons of exceedingly low morals
resort to grave-yards for the sole purpose of enjoyment, and the
indulgence of obscene conduct and conversation. Certainly rude sounds
must jar very inharmoniously upon the feelings of those who come to
visit and weep over the remains of their departed friends.
Too many invalids, before coming to Florida, wait until they have
already felt the downy flappings from the wings of the unrelenting
destroyer, and heard the voices from a spirit-land calling them, but
come too late to be benefited and take a new lease on life. The climate
should not be blamed because the sick will stay away until death claims
them. Those who do not wait derive the same benefit in remaining that
flowers receive from gentle rains in spring-time--the atmosphere being
a tranquillizer, the pure sea-breeze on the coast a lotion and tonic to
the lungs. God grant that the genial air which visits this peninsula may
restore the health-seeking invalids to vigor, strength, and usefulness,
that their presence may again gladden the hearts of those left at home,
now saddened by their absence!
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