Every year, during the month of February, Jacksonville has an exhibit of
industries, from all portions of the State, thus furnishing visitors an
opportunity for seeing specimens of the best Florida products for
themselves, before purchasing. Another advantage is the exchange of
experience in growing the same things, besides receiving new suggestions
in regard to those which may have failed, and, finally, it keeps up a
friendly intercourse with old acquaintances, also enabling new
immigrants to form pleasant associations, in the absence of those whom
they have left behind--thus promoting harmony, not only in a community,
but throughout the entire State.
The weather--that important auxiliary--this year was unpropitious a
greater portion of the week. Nature put on a wild, damp face, which
chilled the ardor of many who had intended coming. However, the exhibit
was very good, in every department. All kinds of semi-tropical fruits,
from the most perfect pine-apple that has flourished in any clime, to
the sweetest orange, whose cheek had been kissed by a golden sunbeam.
Pure wines were not wanting to complete the conviviality of the
occasion, or perfumes distilled from Florida leaves and flowers, to waft
odors around us, sweet as the memory of a first love. The industrious
ladies sent their needle-work, some of which looked as if wrought by
fairy fingers, more than real flesh and blood.
Each succeeding year this organization gathers strength as the State
becomes more populous, and the necessity of comparing the products from
different latitudes is made a criterion for those who wish to examine
the local products of a country. In addition to what has already been
done, there is much room for improvement, which will be accomplished as
the necessities demand, until the Agricultural Florida Fair shall be
numbered among the permanent institutions, where the ingathering harvest
of tropical fruits every year will be a fixed fact, where immense crowds
shall come to look, wondering at its magnitude, and silent with
admiration before the grandeur of its extensive proportions. The future
of the Fair, like that of the State, has not been attained.
Another source of entertainment with many who come here is yachting. The
white-winged little crafts are constantly flitting about the
Jacksonville wharves, like summer songsters in a clear sky. The boats,
in reality, have become quite indispensable to the excitement of
visitors. Those that draw the least water, and make the best time, or
with a fair wind can sail on a heavy dew, are the class of craft most in
demand. General Spinner, formerly of the United States Treasury, has a
fine little yacht, in which he takes pleasure-excursions, looking much
happier than when the responsibility of a nation's finances rested on
his movements.
Our stay in Jacksonville has been very pleasant; but its surroundings
furnish a poor criterion for the fertile lands lying in other parts of
the State.
The ocean steamer Dictator is waiting at the wharf for passengers, and
we will be among the happy number to embark on this reliable-running
craft. Her former efficient commander, Captain Coxetter, has gone where
bars or rough waters never imperil his safety. However, his place has
been supplied by a skillful seaman, thus placing the Dictator at the
head of the list for palatial accommodations and attentive officers.
The St. John's to-day appears overspread with a kind of semi-transparent
mist, through which the sun shines with a nimbus of golden sheen, that
fills the air and sky. Imagination could not paint the River of Life
more beautiful. How smoothly we glide on its peaceful bosom, while
fleecy clouds of unrivaled purity float over us like airy forms, which
leave an indefinable idea of an invisible presence hovering near.
The first noticeable landing, after we leave Jacksonville, is Mandarin,
fifteen miles distant--the winter residence of Harriet Beecher Stowe--at
which point many stop, as though she was expected to furnish a
gratuitous exhibition of herself, designed for the benefit of those who
walk her domains. Visitors come here thinking they are at the same
liberty to inspect her person as though she were connected with a
menagerie, and obligated to present herself for their entertainment.
Very curious ones open her window-blinds if they cannot see her in any
other way. These impudent violations of etiquette do not meet with her
approval, while those indulging in them must take the consequences,
remembering that although patience is a virtue, it is not always
exercised.
Mandarin is quite unpretentious in its general appearance. The
inhabitants raise fine sweet oranges and other produce, which they bring
down in little boats to market; this is the most perceptible stir made
by any of its residents. Like many other localities in the State,
historic records of tragic events, extending back to the Indian wars,
are yet remembered by some of its old citizens. The following is dated
December 25, 1841:
"For some time the settlers in this section of the country had been
lulled into apparent security, under the belief that there was no danger
to be apprehended, since the notorious Wild Cat and his party were
shipped to the West.
"On Monday a band of twenty-one Indians approached the settlement of
Mandarin, when, after capturing an old negro belonging to Mr. William
Hartley, lay by until night, when they attacked the house of Mr. H., who
was absent hunting. They murdered his wife and child, also Messrs.
Domingo Acosta and William Molpus. These savages, after committing this
foul deed, plundered the house and applied the torch. They then
proceeded to the plantations of Nathan and George Hartley, and as the
inmates had fled, they destroyed their homes. The Indians camped near
until morning, when they released the old negro, and fled. Captain
Hurry, of Mandarin, and a few other citizens, followed their trail the
next day for some distance, but finally lost it."
The settlers then gave expression to their feelings:
"We, the citizens of Mandarin, cannot too strongly urge upon Col. Worth
the propriety of keeping in this vicinity a force sufficiently strong to
render to our citizens that protection to which they are justly
entitled. Many of them had returned to their abandoned places, others
making preparations for that purpose; but their plans are now
frustrated, as there can be no possible security until the last Indian
is hunted out of Florida; while our troops are operating in the South,
they are murdering in our unprotected settlements. This is the seventh
Christmas-day we have witnessed since the Indian war has been raging in
our territory, it being now our painful duty to record it is far from
being ended. The blood of our citizens is still warm upon the hillocks
and turfs of Florida, and the wily savage roams undismayed, with his
thirst for the blood of fresh victims unquenched."
One noticeable feature in traveling through Florida is the fanciful
names we hear given to unimportant places--the name being the most
prominent point, the towns so diminutive that it is difficult to locate
them with any degree of certainty. The first high-sounding ones, after
Mandarin, are Hibernia and Magnolia, both little stopping-places,
considered quite exclusive in their associations with the world in
general and themselves in particular, where guests are so well contented
they think the fabled land for which the Spaniards searched so long is
at last reached.
Green Cove Mineral Springs, thirty miles above Jacksonville, is a noted
resort for those afflicted with rheumatism--the temperature of the water
always being warm enough in winter to stimulate the system and give
relief to pain. Many other diseases are also greatly mitigated. Very
happy faces come down here to look at us, which is, no doubt,
attributable to the exhilarating influences of the water and fine fare
at the hotels.
Picolata, forty-five miles above Jacksonville, on the east bank of the
river, is more famous for what it has been than for what it is now, its
former greatness having departed, leaving scarcely a shadow to guide us.
This was formerly the stage terminus from St. Augustine, eighteen miles
distant, and of some importance as a commercial point, with a weekly
stage running to Tallahassee and St. Mark's. During Spanish times this
place was called Fort Picolata, where once stood a very ancient
fortress. The following is a description of its dimensions, written over
one hundred years since: "It was constructed with a high wall, without
bastions, about breast-high on the inside, with loop-holes, and
surrounded by a deep ditch. The upper story was open on each side, with
battlements supporting a cupola, or roof. These parapets were formerly
mounted with eight four-pounders--two on each side. The works were built
with hewn stone, cemented in lime. The shell-rock from which it was
constructed was cut out of quarries on St. Anastasia Island, opposite
St. Augustine." The object of this fort was to guard the passage of the
river, and preserve communication with St. Mark's and Pensacola.
As we propose describing Tocoi on our return, we will now proceed to
Pilatka, the county-seat of Putnam, with a population of fifteen hundred
inhabitants. The land on which the town stands is high, the soil being
mixed with shells. The accommodations here for visitors are fine, where
many come to stay all winter, in preference to any other place. The
Putnam House is well kept, being refreshingly neat, and the whole
premises in perfect order. It is now February, and the garden is
producing peas, lettuce, radishes, Irish potatoes, and many other
vegetables, from which the house is supplied. The tables groan with good
things, while the proprietor tries to make everybody welcome. The
politeness of the servants reminds us of the palmy days of the past,
when they were trained for use, and not permitted to roam, as many do
now, like untamed beasts, seeking something which they can kill and eat,
or steal, and trade for money. The citizens are very industrious and
law-abiding--the town having been settled thirty years--and never had a
county jail until recently; but, in keeping with the improvements of the
age, they have one now which is equal to any emergency. Among the
various other buildings, we notice a court-house, several churches, and
many boarding-houses. The principal industries are a moss-factory,
sea-island cotton-gin, a steam grist-mill and saw-mill, also a guano
fish-oil factory. Shad-fishing is profitable here in March, when large
quantities are shipped. One paper--the _Pilatka Herald_--publishes all
the news. The editor is called "Alligator" Pratt--he having obtained his
title by giving descriptions of the immense numbers of alligators which
frequented the streams, as recorded by the early settlers, but bringing
it down to the present time, as a visible fact, which is not true, nor
ever will be again, while so many are being killed every year. When we
visited the _Herald_ office, two lads, sons of the proprietor, were
working like busy bees, the youngest being thirteen, and the oldest
seventeen, years of age. They said their father was in Tallahassee, and
they were "getting out the paper." Such enterprise is commendable.
Many of the tropical fruits are cultivated here, some of which grow to
perfection, while others are experimental, but at present very
flourishing. Ripe strawberries, luscious and sweet, are now ready for
market, on Col. Hart's place--the fertilizer used being river-muck,
which is inexhaustible. The weather is milder here than in other
localities of the same latitude, not on the river, which is accounted
for by the waters of the St. John's flowing from a milder clime, thus
checking any proposed invasion from Jack Frost.
A very amusing circumstance happened here this morning. The Catholic
bishop from St. Augustine being in town, according to his usual custom,
proposed to have early morning mass. On repairing to the church, and
finding none of his members in attendance, and not being inclined to say
mass for the repose of their souls and bodies while in bed, as a gentle
reminder of their duties he commenced pulling vigorously at the
bell-rope. The jingling at so early an hour caused a consternation among
the inhabitants, who supposed it to be a fire-alarm, and, thinking the
safety of their dwellings in danger, rushed from every street in
hasty-made toilets, looking for the conflagration. However, on quiet
being restored, the affair was considered a good joke.
Pilatka is the head of navigation for ocean steamers, the river
narrowing so rapidly soon after leaving here that they cannot run any
farther. Parties going up the Ocklawaha must always stop at this point,
as steamers made, for no other purpose leave here daily. No Florida tour
would be complete without a trip up this narrow, tortuous stream, which
turns its course so often the wonder is that it does not forget which
way it was going to run.
The name of our boat is Okahumkee, which bears a slight resemblance to
the pictures designed to represent Noah's ark, but only in shape, not in
size or age. On account of the obstacles she has to meet in navigation,
there can be no surplus work or embellishment on her; but she is clean
and comfortable, the fare good as on any river-craft. The propelling
power is at the stern, and sends the steamer ahead at the rate of eight
miles an hour. The owner, Col. Hart, is a man of undaunted energies,
whose pioneer movements in navigating this river will ever remain a
monument worthy of emulation.
Twenty-five miles above Pilatka the Ocklawaha comes in, which name
signifies boggy river, or turgid water, so called by the Indians.