FLORIDA.
1. HISTORICAL.
Long before Columbus saw
“the dashing,
Silver-flashing,
Surges of San Salvador,”
a rumor was abroad among the natives of the Bahamas, of Cuba, and even
of Yucatan and Honduras, that in a land to the north was a fountain of
water, whose crystal waves restored health to the sick, and youth to the
aged. Many of the credulous islanders, forsaking their homes, ventured
in their frail canoes on the currents of the Gulf, and never returning,
were supposed to be detained by the delights of that land of perennial
youth.
This ancient fame still clings to the peninsula. The tide of wanderers
in search of the healing and rejuvenating waters still sets thitherward,
and, with better fate than of yore, many an one now returns to his own,
restored to vigor and life. Intelligence now endorses what superstition
long believed.
The country received its pretty and appropriate name, Terra florida, the
Flowery Land, from Juan Ponce de Leon, who also has the credit of being
its discoverer. He first saw its shores on Easter Sunday, March 27,
1513--not 1512, as all the text books have it, as on that year Easter
Sunday came on April 20th.
At that time it was inhabited by a number of wild tribes, included in
two families, the Timucuas, who dwelt on the lower St. John, and the
Chahta-Muskokis, who possessed the rest of the country. In later times,
the latter were displaced by others of the same stock known as Seminoles
(_isti semoli_, wild men, or strangers). A remnant of these still exist,
several hundred in number, living on and around Lake Okee-chobee, in the
same state of incorrigible savagery that they ever were, but now
undisturbed and peaceful.
The remains of the primitive inhabitants are abundant over the
Peninsula. Along the sea shores and water courses are numerous heaps of
shells, bones and pottery, vestiges of once populous villages; small
piles of earth and “old fields” in the interior still witness to their
agricultural character; and large mounds from ten to twenty-five feet in
height filled with human bones testify to the pious regard they felt
toward their departed relatives, and the care with which, in accordance
with the traditions of their race, they preserved the skeletons of the
dead. As for those “highways” and “artificial lakes” which the botanist
Bartram thought he saw on the St. John river, they have not been visible
to less enthusiastic eyes. Mounds of stones, of large size and enigmatic
origin, have also been found (Prof. Jeffries Wyman).
For half a century after its discovery, no European power attempted to
found a colony in Florida. Then, in 1562, the celebrated French
Huguenot, Admiral de Coligny, sent over a number of his own faith and
nation, who erected a fort near the mouth of the St. John. As they were
upon Spanish territory, to which they had no right, and were peculiarly
odious to the Spanish temper by their religion, they met an early and
disastrous fate. They were attacked and routed in 1565 by a detatchment
of Spaniards under the command of Pedro Menendez de Aviles, a soldier of
distinction. The circumstance was not characterized by any greater
atrocity than was customary on both sides in the religious wars of the
sixteenth century, but it has been a text for much bitter writing since,
and was revenged a few years after by a similar massacre by a French
Protestant, Dominique de Gourgues, and a party of Huguenots.
Pedro Menendez established at once (1565) the city of St. Augustine and
showed himself a capable officer. Under the rule of his successors the
Spanish sway gradually extended over the islands of the eastern coast,
and the region of middle Florida. The towns of St. Marks and Pensacola
were founded on the western coast, and several of the native tribes were
converted to Christianity.
This prosperity was rudely interrupted in the first decade of the
eighteenth century by the inroads of the Creek Indians, instigated and
directed by the English settlers of South Carolina. The churches were
burned, the converts killed or scattered, the plantations destroyed, and
the priests driven to the seaport towns.
The colony languished under the rule of Spain until, in 1763, it was
ceded to Great Britain. Some life was then instilled into it. Several
colonies were planted on the St. John river and the sea coast, and a
small garrison stationed at St. Marks.
In 1770 it reverted once more to Spain, under whose rule it remained in
an uneasy condition until 1821, when it was purchased by the United
States for the sum of five million dollars. Gen. Andrew Jackson was the
first Governor, and treated the old inhabitants in his usual summary
manner. In 1824 the seat of government was fixed at Tallahassee, the
site of an old Indian town.
At the time of the purchase there were about 4,000 Indians and refugee
negroes scattered over the territory. These very soon manifested that
jealousy of their rights, and resentment against the whites, which have
ever since been their characteristics. From the time of the cession
until the out-break of our civil struggle, the soil of Florida was the
scene of one almost continual border war. The natives gave ground very
slowly, and it was estimated that for every one of them killed or
banished beyond the Mississippi by our armies, the general government
expended ten thousand dollars.
2.--BOOKS AND MAPS.
The facts which I have here sketched in barest outline have been told at
length by many able writers. The visitor to the scene of so many
interesting incidents should provide himself with some or all of the
following works, which will divert and instruct him in many a lagging
hour:
PARKMAN, _Pioneers of France in the New World_. This contains an
admirably written account of the Huguenot colony on the St. John.
FAIRBANKS, _The Spaniards in Florida_. (Published by Columbus Drew,
Jacksonville, Florida.) An excellent historical account of the Spanish
colony.
SPRAGUE, _History of the Florida War_. This is a correct and vivid
narrative of the struggle with the Seminoles. The book is now rarely met
with in the trade.
GEN. GEORGE A. MCCALL, _Letters from the Frontiers_. (Lippincott & Co.,
Philadelphia, 1868.) These letters are mostly from Florida, and contain
many interesting pictures of army life and natural scenery there.
R. M. BACHE, _The Young Wrecker of the Florida Reef_. (Claxton, Remsen &
Haffelfinger, Philadelphia, 1869.) This is a “book for boys,” and is
interesting for all ages. The author was engaged on the Coast Survey,
and describes with great power and accuracy the animal and vegetable
life of the Southern coast.
_Life of Audubon._ (Putnam & Son, 1869.) This contains a number of
letters of the great ornithologist while in Florida.
A detailed description of the earlier works on the peninsula can be
found in a small work I published some years ago, entitled “_The
Floridian Peninsula, Its Literary History, Indian Tribes, and
Antiquities_.” (For sale by the publishers of the present book.)
_On the Antiquities of the Peninsula._ Prof. Jeffries Wyman, of Harvard
College, published, not long since, a very excellent article in the
second volume of the _American Naturalist_.
Every tourist should provide himself with a good State map of Florida.
The best extant is that prepared and published by Columbus Drew, of
Jacksonville, Florida, in covers, for sale by the publishers of this
work. Two very complete partial maps have been issued by the U. S.
government, the one from the bureau of the Secretary of War, in 1856,
entitled, “A Military Map of the Peninsula of Florida South of Tampa
Bay,” on a scale of 1 to 400,000, the other from the U. S. Coast Survey
office in 1864, drawn by Mr. H. Lindenkohl, embracing East Florida north
of the 29th degree, on a scale of 10 miles to the inch. The latter
should be procured by any one who wishes to depart from the usual routes
of tourists.
3. PHYSICAL GEOGRAPHY OF FLORIDA.
1. GEOLOGICAL FORMATION.
2. SOIL AND CROPS.
3. CLIMATE AND HEALTH.
4. VEGETABLE AND ANIMAL LIFE.
1. GEOLOGICAL FORMATION.
Florida is a peninsula extending abruptly from the mainland of the
continent in a direction a little east of south. It is nearly 400 miles
in length, and has an average width of 130 miles. Its formation is
peculiar. Every other large peninsula in the world owes its existence to
a central mountain chain, which affords a stubborn resistance to the
waves. Florida has no such elevation, and mainly a loose, low, sandy
soil. Let us study this puzzle.
The Apalachian (usually and incorrectly spelled Appalachian) plain,
sloping from the mountains to the Gulf of Mexico, lies on a vast bed of
tertiary, limestone and sand rock. About the thirtieth parallel of
north latitude this plain sinks to the sea level, except in middle
Florida, where it still remains 200 feet and more in height. This
elevation gradually decreases and reaches the water level below the 28th
parallel, south of Tampa Bay. It forms a ridge or spine about sixty
miles in width, composed of a porous limestone somewhat older than the
miocene group of the tertiary rocks, a hard blueish limestone, and a
friable sand rock.[A] Around this spine the rest of the peninsula has
been formed by two distinct agencies.
Between the ridge and the Atlantic ocean is a tract of sandy soil, some
forty miles in width, sloping very gently to the north. It is low and
flat, and is drained by the St. John river. So little fall has this
noble stream that 250 miles from its mouth it is only 12 miles distant
from an inlet of the ocean, and only 3 feet 6 inches above tide level,
as was demonstrated by the State survey made to construct a canal from
Lake Harney to Indian River. A section of the soil usually discloses a
thin top layer of vegetable mould, then from 3 to 6 feet of different
colored sand, then a mixture of clay, shells, and sand for several feet
further, when in many parts a curious conglomerate is reached, called
_coquina_, formed of broken shells and small pebbles cemented together
by carbonate of lime, no doubt of recent (post tertiary) formation. The
coquina is never found south of Cape Canaveral, nor north of the mouth
of the Matanzas river.
[A] This “Back-Bone Ridge,” as it has been called, has a rounded and
singularly symmetrical form when viewed in cross section. Where the
Fernandina and Cedar Keys railroad crosses the peninsula, the highest
point, near Gainesville, is 180 feet in elevation, whence there is a
gradual slope, east and west.
For the whole of this distance a glance at the map will show that the
coast is lined by long, narrow inlets, separated from the ocean by still
narrower strips of land. These inlets are the “lagoons.” The heavy rains
wash into them quantities of sediment, and this, with the loose sand
blown by the winds from the outer shore, gradually fills up the lagoon,
and changes it into a morass, and at last into a low sandy swamp,
through which a sluggish stream winds to its remote outlet. Probably the
St. John river was at one time a long lagoon, and probably all the land
between the ridge described and the eastern sea has been formed by this
slow process.
The southern portion of the peninsula is also very low, rarely being
more than six feet above sea level, but its slope, instead of being
northward, is generally westward. Much of the surface is muddy rather
than sandy, and is characterized by two remarkable forms of vegetable
life, the Everglades and the Big Cypress.
The Everglades cover an area of about 4,000 square miles, and embrace
more than one half of the State south of Lake Okee-chobee. They present
to the eye a vast field of coarse saw-grass springing from a soil of
quicksand and soft mud, from three to ten feet deep. During the whole
year the water rests on this soil from one to four feet in depth,
spreading out into lakes, or forming narrow channels. The substratum is
a limestone, not tertiary, but modern and coralline. Here and there it
rises above the mud, forming “keys” or islands of remarkable fertility,
and on the east and south makes a continuous ridge along the ocean, one
to four miles wide, and from ten to fifteen feet high, which encloses
the interior low basin like a vast crescentic dam-breast.
Lake Okee-chobee, 1,200 square miles in area, with an average depth of
twelve feet, is, in fact, only an extension of the Everglades.
South of the Caloosa-hatchie river, between the Everglades and the Gulf,
extends the Big Cypress. This is a large swamp, fifty miles long and
thirty-five miles broad. Here the saw-grass gives way to groves of
cypress trees, with a rank and tangled undergrowth of vines. The soil is
either bog or quicksand, generally covered one or two feet deep with
stagnant water. The sun’s rays rarely penetrate the dense foliage, and
on the surface of the water floats a green slime, which, when disturbed,
emits a sickening odor of decay. Crooked pools and sluggish streams
traverse it in all directions, growing deeper and wider toward the Gulf
shore, where they cut up the soil into numberless segments, called the
Thousand Islands.
The whole of this southern portion of the peninsula lies on a modern,
coral formation. The crescent-shaped ridge which forms the eastern and
southern boundary of the Everglades, commences north of Key Biscayne
Bay, and sweeps southwest to Cape Sable. From the same starting point,
another broken crescent of coralline limestone, but many miles longer,
extends to the Dry Tortugas, forming the Florida Keys. And beyond this
again some five or six miles, making a third crescent, is the Florida
Reef. Outside of the Reef, the bottom abruptly sinks to a depth of 800
or 900 fathoms. Between the Reef and the Keys is the ship channel,
about 6 fathoms in depth; and between the Keys and the main land the
water is very shallow, and covers broad flats of white calcareous mud.
Between the coast-ridge and Lake Okee-chobee, the “Keys,” which are
scattered through the Everglades, are disposed in similar crescentic
forms, some seven regular concentric arcs having been observed. They are
all formed of the same character of coral rock as the present Reef and
Keys, and undoubtedly owe their existence to the same agency. Each of
these crescents was at one time a reef, until the industrious coral
animals built another reef further out in the water, when the older line
was broken up by the waves into small islands. Thus, for countless
thousands of years, has this work of construction been going on around
the extremity of the tertiary back bone ridge which at first projected
but a short distance into the waters.
What, it may be asked, has impressed this peculiar and unusual
crescentic shape to the reefs? This is owing to the Gulf Stream. This
ocean-river rushes eastward through the Straits of Florida at the rate
of five or six miles an hour, yet it does not wash the reef. By some
obscure law of motion, an eddy counter-current is produced, moving
_westward_, close to the reef, with a velocity of one or two miles an
hour. Off Key West this secondary current is ten miles wide, with a
rapidity of two miles per hour. Its waters are constantly whitened by
the calcareous sands of the reef--the relics of the endless conflict
between the waves and the untiring coral insects. The slowly-built
houses of the latter are broken and tossed hither and thither by the
billows, until they are ground into powder, and scattered through the
waters. After every gale the sea, for miles on either side of the reef,
is almost milk-white with the ruins of these coral homes.
But nature is ever ready with some compensation. The impalpable dust
taken up by the counter-current is carried westward, and gradually sinks
to the bottom of the gulf, close to the northern border of the gulf
stream. At length a bank is formed, reaching to within 80 or 90 feet of
the surface. At this depth the coral insect can live, and straightway
the bank is covered with a multitudinous colony who commence building
their branching structures. A similar process originated all the
crescent-shaped lines of Keys which traverse the Everglades and Big
Cypress.
2. SOIL AND CROPS.
Much of the soil of Florida is not promising in appearance. The
Everglades and Cypress Swamps may be considered at present
agriculturally worthless. The ridge of sand and decomposed limestone
along the southern shore, from Cape Sable to Indian river, is capable,
however, of profitable cultivation, and offers the best field in the
United States for the introduction of tropical plants, especially
coffee. Its area is estimated at about 7,000,000 acres.
The northern portion of the Peninsula is composed of “scrubs” (dry
sterile tracts covered with thickets of black-jack, oak, and spruce),
pine lands and hammocks (not hummocks--the latter is a New England word
with a different signification). The hammocks are rich river bottoms,
densely timbered with live oak, magnolia, palmetto, and other trees.
They cannot be surpassed for fertility, and often yield 70 to 80 bushels
of corn to the acre with very imperfect tillage. Of course, they are
difficult to clear, and often require drainage.
The pine lands, which occupy by far the greater portion of the State,
make at first an unfavorable impression on the northern farmer. The
sandy pine lands near the St. John, are of deep white siliceous sand,
with little or no vegetable mould through it. The greater part of it
will not yield, without fertilizing, more than 12 or 15 bushels of corn
to the acre. In the interior, on the central ridge, the soil is a
siliceous alluvium on beds of argillaceous clay and marl. The limestone
rocks crop out in many places, and could readily be employed as
fertilizers, as could also the marl. Red clay, suitable for making
bricks, is found in the northern counties, and a number of brick yards
are in operation. Over this soil a growth of hickory is interspersed
with yellow pine, and much of the face of the country is rolling. By
mixing the hammock soil with the sand, an admirable loam is formed,
suited to raising vegetables and vines.
Persons who visit Florida with a view to farming or gardening, should
not expect to find it a land of exhuberant fertility, that will yield
immense crops with little labor. East Florida is as a whole not a
fertile country in comparison with South Carolina or Illinois, and
probably never will be highly cultivated. On the other hand, they must
not be discouraged by the first impressions they form on seeing its
soil. Labor can do wonders there. The climate favors the growth of
vegetables and some staples, but labor, _hard work_, is just as
necessary as in Massachusetts. Middle and West Florida have much better
lands.
The leading crops of the State are corn and cotton. Of the latter, the
improved short staple varieties are preferred, the long staple
nourishing only in East Florida. Some experiments have been tried with
Egyptian cotton, but on too small a scale to decide its value. The enemy
of the cotton fields is the caterpillar which destroys the whole crop in
a very short time. Nor can anything be done to stop its ravages. In the
vicinity of Tampa Bay and Indian River the sugar cane is successfully
raised, quite as well as in Louisiana. In good seasons it is also a very
remunerative crop in the northern counties, as it yields as much as
fifteen barrels of first class syrup to the acre, besides the sugar.
Tobacco, which before the war was raised in considerable quantities in
Florida, has been much neglected since. Good Cuba seed has been
introduced, however, and some of the old attention is paid to it. The
character of soil and climate of certain portions of Florida, especially
the southeastern portion, is not very unlike that of the famed Vuelta
Abajo, and with good seed, and proper care in the cultivation and curing
of the leaf, it might be grown of a very superior quality.
The climate is too warm for wheat, but rye and oats yield full crops,
though they are but little cultivated.--Sweet potatoes, yams, peas, and
groundnuts are unfailing, and of the very best qualities. The vine
yields abundantly, and it is stated on good authority that two thousand
gallons of wine per acre have been obtained from vineyards of the
Scuppernong grape in Leon county.
Apples grow only to a limited extent, some being found in the northern
counties. Peaches, pears, apricots, oranges, limes, lemons, etc., are
well suited to the soil and climate. The orange has two enemies, the
insect called the _coccus_, and the frost. The former seems disappearing
of late years, but the frosts have become more severe and more frequent,
so that north of the 28th degree, the orange crop is not dependable.
The tropical plants, such as coffee, indigo, sesal hemp, etc., can
undoubtedly be cultivated with success on the southern and southeastern
coast, but hitherto, no serious attempt at their introduction has been
made. For further particulars under this head, see a pamphlet of 151
pages prepared by Hon. John S. Adams, and published by the State, in
1869, entitled, “_Florida, its Climate, its Soil, and Productions_.”
3. CLIMATE AND HEALTH.
In regard to climate, Florida is in some respects unsurpassed by any
portion of the United States. The summers are not excessively hot, the
average temperature of the months of June, July, and August, being at
Tallahassee 79 degrees, Fah.; at St. Augustine, 80 degrees; Cedar Keys,
79 degrees; Tampa, 80 degrees; Miami, 81; and Key West, 82 degrees. The
winters are delightful, the temperature of the three winter months
averaging as follows: Tallahassee, 57 degrees; St. Augustine, 58
degrees; Cedar Keys, 60 degrees; Tampa, 61 degrees; Miami, 67 degrees,
Key West, 70 degrees.
The summer heats are debilitating, especially in the interior. On the
coast they are tempered by the sea-breeze, which rises about 10 a. m. No
part of the State is entirely free from frosts. In Jacksonville they
occur about once a week during the month of January, while at Miami they
only happen once in several years. Now and then a severe frost occurs,
which destroys the orange groves far to the south. One such in 1767
destroyed all the orange trees at Fernandina and St. Augustine; another
in 1835 cut them down as far south as New Smyrna; in December, 1856, ice
was noted on the Miami river; and in December, 1868, there was such an
unprecedented cold snap that Lake Griffin, on the upper Oklawaha, bore
ice one-and-a-half inches thick. The orange crop was destroyed as far up
the St. John as Enterprise, and most of the trees ruined. On Indian
river, however, the cold was not felt to a damaging extent.
The nights in winter are cool, and in the interior accompanied with
heavy dews.
In summer, the prevailing winds are east and south-east, being portions
of the great air currents of the trade winds. Thunder storms are
frequent. In winter, variable winds from the north, northeast, and
north-west prevail. At times they rise to violent gales of several days
duration, called northers. These are most frequent on the west coast.
The seasons of Florida are tropical in character, one being the dry and
the other the wet season. The annual rain-fall averages from fifty to
sixty inches. Three-fourths of this fall between April and October.
Sometimes there is nearly as much rain in the month of June as during
the six winter months together. Two inches and a-half is a fair average
each for the latter. The air is usually well charged with moisture, but
owing to the equability of the temperature, this would hardly be
suspected. Fogs are almost unknown, the sky is serene, the air clear,
and no sensation of dampness is experienced. The hygrometer alone
reminds us of how nearly the atmosphere is saturated with warm, watery
vapor.
In the concluding chapters of this work I shall discuss at length the
adaptation of the climate to invalids, and shall here speak of it
chiefly as it affects residents.
The prevailing diseases are of miasmatic origin. Dysentery of mild type,
pneumonia and diarrhœa are occasional visitors, but the most common
enemy to health is the swamp poison. Intermittent and remittent fevers
are common along the fresh water streams. On the sea coast they are
rare, and after the month of October they disappear, but in the summer
and early autumn they are very prevalent in some portions of the State.
They are, however, neither more severe nor more frequent than in the
lowlands of all the Gulf States, or in southern Indiana and Illinois.
These complaints are characteristic of new settlements, usually
disappearing after the land has been cleared a few years. They can be
generally avoided by care in habits of life, and the moderate use of
some bitter tonic. All who are exposed should be on their guard,
avoiding excesses, over-work, getting chilled, the night dews, damp
clothing, etc.
One fall I ascended the Ocklawaha river in a “pole-barge”--a large scow
propelled by poles. At night we fastened the boat to a tree, and slept
at some neighboring house. The captain and several of the “darkies” had
a diurnal shake, with great regularity, and I entered hardly a single
house from Palatka to Ocala in which one or more of the family were not
complaining of the same disease. I had no quinine with me, and in
default of it used as a preventive a strong tincture of the peel of the
bitter-sweet orange. Either through its virtues or good luck, I escaped
an attack, quite to the surprise of my companions. I repeat, however,
that during the winter there is no danger from this source, and even
during the sickly season an enlightened observance of the rules of
health will generally protect the traveler.
4. VEGETABLE AND ANIMAL LIFE.
The traveler who, for the first time, visits a southern latitude, has
his attention most strongly arrested by the new and strange forms of
vegetable life. I shall mention some of those which give the scenery of
Florida its most peculiar features.
The most abundant is the saw palmetto, _chamærops Adansonii_. This
vigorous plant is found in all parts of the peninsula, flourishing
equally well in the pine barren and the hammock. It throws up its
sharp-edged leaves some four or five feet in length, from a large, round
root, which is, in fact, a trunk, extending along the surface of the
ground. The young shoots and inner pith of the root are edible, and were
often eaten by the Indians.
The cabbage palm, another species of _Chamærops_, is one of the most
beautiful of trees. It raises its straight, graceful trunk to a height
of 50, 60 and 100 feet, without a branch, and then suddenly bursts into
a mass of dark green, pendant fronds. In the center of this mass,
enveloped in many folds, is found the tender shoot called the “cabbage.”
It tastes like a raw chestnut, and was highly prized by the Indians.
This palm is not found north of St. Augustine, and is only seen in
perfection about Enterprise, and further south.
The live oak and cypress are the tenants of the low grounds. The former
has a massive trunk, much esteemed for ship timber, spreading branches,
and small green leaves. It is a perennial, and is not found farther
north than South Carolina. The cypress stands in groups. Its symmetrical
shaft rises without branches to a considerable height, and then spreads
out numerous horizontal limbs, bearing a brown and scanty foliage. The
base of the trunk is often enlarged and distorted into strange shapes,
while scattered through the swamps are abortive attempts at trees, a
foot or two thick and five or six feet in height, ending in a round,
smooth top. These are called “cypress knees.”
Two parasitic plants abound in the forests, the mistletoe and the
Spanish moss, _tillandsia usneoides_. The former has bright green leaves
and red berries. The latter attaches itself to the cypress and live oak,
and hangs in long gray wreaths and ragged masses from every bough in the
low lands.
The southern shores and islands are covered with the mangrove, a species
of the _rhizophora_. It is admirably adapted to shore building. The seed
grows to a length of five or six inches before it leaves its calyx, when
it resembles in form and color an Havana cigar. When it drops into the
water it floats about until it strikes a beach, where it rapidly takes
root and shoots out branches. Each branch sends down its own root, and
soon the shore is covered with a dense growth, which in time rises to a
height of twenty or thirty feet, and prevents the sand from any further
shifting.
Two varieties of a plant called by the Seminoles _koonta_, bread, grow
luxuriantly in the south. The red koonta, the _smilax china_ of
botanists, is a thrifty, briary vine, with roots like a large potato.
The white koonta, a species of _zamia_, has large fern-like leaves and a
root like a parsnip. Both were used by the Indians as food, and yield
from 25 to 30 per cent. of starch.
At some seasons, dense masses of vegetation form on the lakes and rivers
and drift hither and thither with the wind, natural floating islands.
They are composed chiefly of a water plant, the _pistia spathulata_,
with the stalks and leaves of the water lily, _nymphea nilumbo_.
The bitter-sweet orange grows wild in great quantities along the
streams. It is supposed to be an exotic which has run wild, as none of
the species was found in the New World, and no mention is made of the
orange in the early accounts of the peninsula, as undoubtedly would have
been the case had it then flourished. The fruit has a taste not unlike
the Seville orange, and is freely eaten by the inhabitants.
The cork tree, the sesal hemp, and other tropical plants have been
introduced, and no doubt could be successfully cultivated in the extreme
south. The coacoanut palm grows vigorously at Key West, and on the
adjacent mainland.
The _animal life_ of Florida indicates its proximity to the tropics.
Alligators are now scarce in the lower St. John, but are found in great
numbers in the interior. They are by no means dangerous. The largest I
ever saw was nearly 15 feet in length.
The manatee, or sea cow, an herbivorous cetacean, midway between fish
and flesh, once abounded in Florida. When Audubon visited the
peninsula, his guide boasted of having killed “hundreds” of them, and
their bones are often found as far north as the Suwannee river. The
Manatee spring and Manatee river bear record in their names to their
former abundance. Now, I think, they are nearly extinct. A few still
linger in the extreme south. Two were caught on the Indian river in the
commencement of 1869, and exhibited in Jacksonville and Savannah.
The gopher, _testudo polyphemus_, is a large land turtle found in the
pine woods, and is esteemed as an article of diet. The deer, panther,
black bear, black and grey wolf are quite common.
Beautiful perroquets, wild turkeys, white and rose-colored curlew, the
latter prized for their tinted wings, pelicans, cormorants, herons,
fish-crows, and cranes are seen in great numbers.
The moccason and rattle-snake are the only venomous serpents. The former
is most feared, but I do not remember to have heard of many deaths from
the bite of either. Scorpions, centipedes and tarantulas abound, but are
not very poisonous, and never fatally so. The mosquitoes are at times
dreadfully annoying, and there is no escape from them. Sand-flies,
ticks, and knats also mar the pleasures of camp life, but the true
hunter rises superior to such inconveniences.
The best river fish is the trout--not the speckled native of the
northern streams, but of good flavor, and “game” when hooked. The
mullet--a fish about a foot long--swarms on the coast in incredible
numbers. The pompano is considered almost as good as the salmon. Catfish
are large and coarse.
4. THE ST. JOHN RIVER, ST. AUGUSTINE, AND INDIAN RIVER.
The St. John river is about 400 miles in length, and from two to three
miles wide, as far up as Lake George. It is, in fact, rather an arm of
the sea than a river, and probably is the remains of an ancient lagoon.
Its current is about one mile an hour, and the slope of its bed so
little that at such a distance from its mouth as at Lake Monroe, a
careful survey showed that it was but three feet six inches above sea
level. The tides are perceptible as far as Lake George, and its water
more or less brackish at least this far. This may be partly owing to
several large salt springs which empty into it. Its waters are of a
light coffee-color, frequently covered with a perceptible scum. Above
Lake George they are pleasant to the taste, but do not easily quench the
thirst, apparently owing to the salts of various kinds in solution.
Contrary to all the other large streams in the United States, the St.
John flows nearly due south until within fifteen miles of its mouth,
when it turns abruptly to the east, entering the Atlantic at 30 degrees
24 seconds, north latitude. For this peculiarity of its course, the
Chahtas named it _Il-la-ka_, corrupted into _Welaka_ by the whites. Mr.
Buckingham Smith asked an intelligent native what the word meant. He
answered slowly: “It hath its own way, is alone, and contrary to every
other.”
The only important tributary it receives is the Oklawaha. They each
drain a row of numerous ponds, lakes, and marshes, and are separated by
the Thlauhatke, or White Hills, the highest hills in the peninsula, and
an elevated sandy ridge, covered with scruboak, known as the “Eteniah
scrub.”
The St. John was discovered in 1562, by Jean Ribaut, leader of the
Huguenot colony of Admiral Coligny. He named it the River May, having
entered it in that month. In the Spanish chronicles it is referred to as
the Rio de San Matteo (St. Matthew). When it was named San Juan, does
not appear, but the English took this name and translated it into the
present appellation.
In accordance with the best usage of our geographical writers, I shall
omit the possessive sign, and speak of it as the St. John river; and in
mentioning localities on the right or left bank, the reader is notified
that while geographically these terms are used as if a person were
_descending_ the river, for the convenience of the traveler I use them
as of one _ascending_ it.
The _mouth_ of the St. John is hardly a mile wide, and is impeded by a
shifting sand bar, having rarely more than seven feet of water at low
tide. The entrance is by a southerly pass, which leaves the course of
the stream concealed by the shore of Baton island, on the north. This
island is settled by a number of river pilots with their families, hardy
and worthy people. On the southern shore the tourist sees the old and
new lighthouses, and a row of brilliantly white sand dunes extending
inland a mile or more.
Baton Island passed, an extensive salt marsh is seen to form the
northern bank of the river; through this numerous sluggish streams wind
their way, forming part of the “inside, passage” to Fernandina. Near the
entrance of this passage a number of symmetrical mounds, from 20 to 50
feet in height, strike the eye. These are known as “The Sisters,” or
more prosaically as the “Oyster Banks,” as, on examination, they prove
to be composed almost exclusively of broken oyster shells, covered with
a tangled low shrubbery. No doubt they are relics of the many glorious
oyster feasts indulged in by the indigenes in times gone by. I regret
that they were not visited by Prof. Jeffries Wyman, who has given us so
excellent an account of the “Fresh-Water-Shell-Heaps of the St. John’s
River, East Florida,” (Salem, Mass., 1868).
Having passed the bar, the river rapidly widens. About six miles from
the entrance the channel runs close along the base of a hill or headland
of moderate height, covered with pine, cedar, etc. This is *_St. John’s
Bluff_, and is unquestionably the site of Fort Caroline, the settlement
of Coligny’s band of Huguenots in 1562.
A tragic interest surrounds this spot. Here, in 1564, Rene de
Laudonniere established the colony of French Protestants, intending to
reclaim a portion of this vast wilderness. His action was soon reported
at the jealous court of Spain.
Phillip II. at once despatched Pedro Menendez de Aviles, an accomplished
soldier and earnest Catholic, to root out the feeble colony. It was done
only too well. In the excitement of a surprise, Sept. 19th, 1565, the
orders of Menendez to spare the women, the old men, and the children
were disregarded by the furious soldiery, and nearly every one was
massacred. Laudonniere and a few others escaped by scrambling down the
rough and thorn-covered eastern face of the bluff, and wading through
the marshes to the mouth of the river, where they reached their ships.
They bore the distressing tidings to France. The ruler of that realm,
the projector of the massacre of St. Bartholemew, and the son of
Catharine de Medicis, was not the one to trouble himself about the death
of a few Huguenots who had encroached on foreign soil. But the stain of
unavenged blood did not remain on France. A private gentleman, Dominique
de Gourgues, fitted out an expedition in 1568. Suddenly appearing before
Fort Caroline, then manned by Spanish troops, he attacked and routed the
garrison and burned the structure. As it was reported that Menendez had
inscribed on a tablet that the massacre of the Huguenots was not done
“as to Frenchmen but to heretics;” so De Gourgues returned the grim
courtesy, and left an inscription that the dead men around had been
slain “not as Spaniards, but as traitors, thieves and murderers.”
In 1856, some copper coins were found near here bearing the inscription:
KAROLUS ET JOANNA RE.
They were identified by Mr. Buckingham Smith as of the reign of Carlos
I. (Charles V.) and Donna Juanna, and therefore date from about 1550.
More recently a coin of about the same period, and from the same spot,
but with a different and not fully legible inscription was exhibited to
the Numismatic and Antiquarian Society of Philadelphia.
During the late civil war the Bluff was fortified by a detachment of
Confederate troops, and for some days held against the gunboats of the
United States forces. At length they were out-flanked by a party of
Union soldiers, who made their way in the rear by the margin of the
swamp, and the work was surrendered.
A few miles beyond the bluff the boat stops at
YELLOW BLUFF.
It has a post office and one small boarding-house, ($8.00 per week,)
about 40 inhabitants, mostly engaged in fishing. Near by is a small
fort, built during the recent war, and on the opposite bank of the
river, on a plantation called New Castle, are an Indian mound and the
vestiges of an ancient, quadrilateral earthwork of Spanish origin.
Yellow Bluff was first chosen by Col. I. D. Hart as the city which he
proposed to build on the St. John, but as he found some marsh land near
which he thought might prove disadvantageous to such a large city as he
contemplated founding, he passed further up the stream and built his
cabin on the spot now known as the “Cow’s Ford,” where the King’s Road
in the old days crossed the river and connected St. Augustine with the
northern settlements, twenty-five miles above the bar. This spot, then
occupied by a few straggling whites and half breeds, is now the site of
the flourishing city of
JACKSONVILLE.
_Hotels._--*St. James, on the public square, with airy piazzas, $4.00 a
day; *Taylor House, fronts the river; *Price House, close to the
railroad depot; St. John’s House, in the center of the city; Howard
House; Cowart House; Union House; Florida House; *Rochester House, on
the bluff south of the town; from $2.00 to $3.00 a day.
_Boarding Houses._--Mrs. Freeland, Mrs. Hodgson, Mrs. Alderman opposite
the Taylor House, and many others.
_Newspapers._ The _Florida Union_, repub.; _Mercury and Floridian_;
_Florida Land Register_.
_Bookseller._--COLUMBUS DREW, publisher of _Brinton’s Guide-Book of
Florida and the South_. Mr. Drew makes a specialty of keeping works on
Florida.
_Churches_ of all the principal denominations.
Jacksonville, so named after General Andrew Jackson, has now a
population of 7,000 souls, and is rapidly increasing that number. It is
destined to be the most important city in Florida, as it is already the
largest. It is located between two creeks which fall into the St. John
about a mile and a quarter apart. These form the present corporation
limits, but several suburbs or additions have been recently formed
beyond these streams. Brooklyn and Riverside are on the bank southwest
of the town; Scottsville, immediately east of the eastern creek, is the
principal location of the large saw mills which constitute one of the
most important industries of the city; Wyoming is on the bluff one and a
half miles northeast; and finally La Villa is a small suburb on an
island to the west.
Many of the residences of Jacksonville are substantially built of brick
manufactured from native clay, but wood is the prevailing material.
Several handsome residences are conspicuous from the river, and every
season a number of elegant cottages are added to the town. It is a
favorite residence for invalids during the winter months, on account of
its superior accommodations and ease of access. Indeed, too many of them
remain here who would be improved by a nearer approach to the extreme
south. The sight of so many sick often affects one unfavorably.
The streets of Jacksonville are sandy, and the vicinity only moderately
fertile. The health of the city is good at all seasons, miasmatic
disease not being common. There was an epidemic of yellow fever in 1857,
but it has never since returned.
During the war Jacksonville suffered severely. It was first partially
burned by the Confederates, then three separate times occupied by the
Union troops, the third time catching fire in the assault. About half a
dozen blocks of houses were then burned, including the Catholic and
Episcopal churches. Of course the result of these experiences was little
short of desolation. Grass grew waist high in the streets, and the few
cattle that remained found for themselves stalls in the deserted stores
and houses. Now, however, one can hardly credit the fact that such was
ever the case.
Steamboats leave Jacksonville for Enterprise (206 miles), about every
other day. One line is owned by Capt. Brock, who for many years has run
the steamer “Darlington” up and down the river. The accommodations on
all the steamers are fair, and no one should omit to make the round
trip, even if he does not tarry on the road. Fare to Enterprise, $9.00.
About a mile above this city the river widens once more. The banks are
usually 3 or 4 feet high, thickly set with live oak, pine and cypress.
Here and there the pine barren cuts across the hammock to the river. In
such places the banks are 8 or 10 feet high, and the tall yellow pine
with an abundant undergrowth of palmetto gives same variety to the
otherwise monotonous view. 15 miles from Jacksonville, on the left
(east) hand is the small town of
MANDARIN.
_Post Office._ No hotel. Boarding can be had with Mr. Chas. F. Reed,
near the landing. Mr. Foote, the postmaster, will give further
information about the chance for accommodations in private families. A
new School house and church. The name is said to have been derived from
the Mandarin or China orange introduced here. This little place has
about a dozen houses and a back country three or four miles in extent.
The location is pleasing and the soil good. Several flourishing orange
groves can be seen from the river. One of them about six acres in extent
is owned by Mrs. Harriet Beecher Stowe, who has a pleasant country house
here, and visits it every winter. It stands close to the river, on a
bluff about 12 feet high. A little higher up the river the Marquis de
Talleyrand has laid out handsome grounds.
This is one of the localities associated with the atrocities of border
warfare. In December, 1841, the Seminole Indians attacked and burnt the
town and massacred the inhabitants almost to the last soul. “For sixteen
hours,” says Captain Sprague in his account of the occurrence, “the
savages, naked and painted, danced around the corpses of the slain.”
Above Mandarin the river narrows and then again expands, the banks
continuing of the same character. Ten miles above, on the right (west)
bank is
HIBERNIA.
*_Hotel_, Mrs. Fleming, one of the best on the river, accommodates about
35 persons, $2.50 per day, $15.00 per week. This very pleasant spot is
on an island, about five miles long, immediately north of the entrance
of Black Creek. It is separated from the mainland by a body of water
known as Doctor’s Lake, which, toward its southern extremity, is lost in
a broad marsh. The “river walk” near the boarding house is a delightful
promenade about three-fourths of a mile long under the spreading
branches of noble live oaks. The hotel is near the landing, which is on
the east side of the island. Visitors can readily obtain boats, and the
vicinity offers many attractive spots for short excursions, picnics, and
fishing parties. Rooms should be engaged by letter.
Three miles above Hibernia is
MAGNOLIA.
This large building was erected by Dr. Benedict in 1851 with special
reference to the wants of invalids, and their treatment under medical
supervision. During the war it was used for various purposes and was
much injured, but it has now been thoroughly refitted by a company, and
placed under the charge of Dr. Rogers, formerly of Worcester, Mass., a
capable and judicious physician, who proposes to continue it as a
sanitarium. The building can accommodate comfortably about 50 boarders.
The position is agreeable, a majestic oak grove shading the grounds,
while at a little distance the pine forest scatters its aromatic odors
in the air.
Divided from it by a small creek, but 2 miles above as the river runs,
is
GREEN COVE SPRING.
_Hotels._ Green Cove House, by Mr. J. Ramington, and boarding houses by
Captain Henderson, and Captain Glinskie, all said to be well kept; fare
about $15.00 per week. This spring has been long celebrated for its
mineral properties. It is sulphurous, and has been found of value in
chronic rheumatism, cutaneous disease and dyspepsia. The temperature is
78 Fah. at all seasons. The basin varies in diameter from 35 to 40 feet
at different points. The water rushes up with force forming what is
called the “boil.” Recently a portion of the bottom of the spring gave
way, and the orifice through which the water rises was covered. But the
earth was cleared out, and the “boil” re-instated. Facilities for
bathing are afforded, though not to that extent which were desirable.
12 miles above green Cove on the left bank is
PICOLATA.
Boarding with Mr. T. F. Bridier. This is the station where passengers to
St. Augustine land. It is much to be regretted that there is no hotel
here, and only poor and insufficient accommodations in the house owned
by the stage company. Usually but one line of stages runs to St.
Augustine, and they are often densely crowded, and most uncomfortable. A
second line was put on in Jan., 1869. The usual fare to St. Augustine is
$3.00; distance 18 miles. By competition it has been reduced to $1.00.
FROM PICOLATA TO ST. AUGUSTINE
the road leads through an open pine country with an undergrowth of
palmettoes. Here and there a clump of cypress, with a tangled mass of
briars and vines around their trunks, diversifies the scene. The soil is
miserably poor, and hardly a dozen houses are passed in the whole
distance. Deep white sand obstructs the stage, and not so rarely as one
wishes the wheels strike a pine or palmetto root with a most unpleasant
effect upon the passengers, especially if they are invalids. After 3½
hours of this torture, the stage is checked by the Sebastian river, over
which a miserable ferry boat conveys the exhausted tourist who at length
finds himself in St. Augustine.
ST. AUGUSTINE.
_Hotels_: Florida House (dear and poor,) Magnolia House, fine piazza
(grounds recently fitted up.) About $4.00 per day, _slight_ reduction by
the month.
_Boarding Houses_: Mrs. Abbot, Mrs. Fatio, Mrs. Gardner, Mrs. Brava,
Miss Dummitt. Charges, $15.00 to $20.00 per week. As a rule, the tables
of the boarding houses are better kept than those of the hotels.
Families can rent houses by the month, and sometimes furnished rooms,
and thus live much cheaper. Apply to B. E. Carr, J. L. Phillips, or John
Long.
_Billiard Saloon_, at Delot’s Restaurant.
_Post Office_ on the Plaza, mail tri-weekly. Telegraph office near the
market house on the Plaza.
_Newspaper_--_St. Augustine Examiner_, weekly. _Reading Room_ at the
editor’s office, 25 cts. a week.
_Drug Store_--Dr. J. P. Mackay.
_Military Music_--On the Plaza every other night.
_Churches_--Roman Catholic, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Methodist chapel
opposite the Magnolia House, Colored Baptist.
_Bathing-House_, on Bay Street, white flag for ladies, red flag for
gentlemen, on alternate days. Season ticket $5.00.
_Local Histories._--*Fairbanks, The Spaniards in Florida, (1868, the
best, published by Columbus Drew, Jacksonville, Fla.); Sewall, Sketches
of St. Augustine, 1848, (illustrated); St. Augustine, Florida, by an
English visitor, (1869, by Mrs. Yelverton; inaccurate).
St. Augustine (population 1,200 white, 600 black), the oldest settlement
in the United States, was founded in 1565, by Pedro Menendez, a Spanish
soldier, born in the city of Aviles. The site originally chosen was
south of where the city now stands, but the subsequent year (1566) a
fort was erected on the present spot. It received its name because
Menendez first saw the coast of Florida on St. Augustine’s day.
Little is known of its early history. In 1586 it was burned by Sir
Francis Drake; and in 1665, Captain Davis, an English buccaneer, sacked
and plundered it without opposition, the inhabitants, numbering at that
time a few hundred, probably fleeing to the fort. This building, which
had formerly been of logs, was commenced of stone about 1640.
As it was found that the sea was making inroads upon the town, about the
end of the seventeenth century, a sea-wall was commenced by the Spanish
Governor, Don Diego de Quiroga y Losada, extending from the Fort to the
houses, all of which, at that time, were south of the Plaza. The top of
this first sea-wall can still be seen in places along Bay street,
occupying nearly the middle of the street.
Early in the last century, the English in Carolina, in alliance with the
Creek (Muskoki) Indians commenced a series of attacks on the Spanish
settlements. In 1702, Governor Moore made a descent on St. Augustine by
land and sea, burnt a portion of the town, and destroyed all the
plantations in the vicinity. The inhabitants once more fled to the
castle, which, we are told, was surrounded by a very deep and broad
moat. But the priests had not time to remove the church plate. This, and
much other booty, fell into Gov. Moore’s hands--all of which he kept for
himself to the great disgust of his companions in arms.
Again, in 1725, Col. Palmer, of Carolina, at the head of 300 whites and
Indians attacked and ravaged the Spanish settlements, completely
annihilating their field-husbandry, burning the country houses, and
forcing the inhabitants of St. Augustine to flee as usual to the castle.
In 1732, Governor Oglethorpe founded the colony of Georgia, on the
Savannah river. Eight years afterwards he made his memorable attack on
St. Augustine. At that date the city numbered 2,143 inhabitants,
including the garrison (the latter probably about one half the whole
number.) The city was intrenched, with salient angles and redoubts, the
space enclosed being about half a mile long and quarter of a mile wide.
The castle mounted 50 pieces of brass cannon. Its walls were of stone,
casemated, with four bastions. The moat was 40 feet wide, and twelve
feet deep. Governor Oglethorpe, therefore, undertook a difficult task
when he set out in midsummer to besiege a place of this strength. He
planted his principal batteries on Anastasia island, where their remains
are still distinctly traceable, and bombarded castle and city with
considerable vigor for 20 days. He discovered, however, to his
mortification, that his shot produced hardly any more effect on the
coquina rock of which the walls were built, than on so much sand. After
prolonging the siege 38 days, (June 13--July 20, 1740,) he withdrew.
The exterior of the works was finally completed by Don Alonzo Fernando
Hereda, in 1756, since which time no alterations of importance have been
made.
St. Augustine, always the capital of the province during the Spanish
supremacy, changed hands with the whole peninsula in 1763, 1781, and
1821. It had a temporary prosperity during the first Seminole war, when
it was used as a military and naval station. In 1862 the naval force of
the United States took possession of it, without resistance, and a
garrison of New Hampshire volunteers was stationed there.
A large percentage of the natives show traces of Spanish blood. They are
usually embraced under the name “Minorcans.”
In 1767 a speculative Englishman, Dr. Turnbull, brought over a colony of
about 1200 Greeks, Italians, Corsicans and Minorcans, and settled near
New Smyrna. After a few years, wearied with his tyranny, most of those
who survived,--not more in all than 600,--removed to St. Augustine. They
were a quiet, somewhat industrious, and ignorant people, and many of
their descendants much mixed in blood still live in St. Augustine. Their
language is fast dying out. The young people speak only English. The
following verse from the _Fromajardis_, or Easter Song, was written down
in 1843. The italic _e_ is the neutral vowel.
“Sant Gabiel
Qui portaba la ambasciado
Dee nostro rey del cel,
Estaran vos prenada
Ya omitiada
Tu o vais aqui surventa
Fia del Dieu contenta
Para fe lo que el vol
Disciar_e_m lu dol
Cantar_e_m aub ’alagria
Y n’arem a da
Las pascuas a Maria,
O Maria.”
I have no doubt but that this is somewhat incorrect, as I am informed
that the ordinary language of the old natives is comparatively pure
Spanish.
St. Augustine is built on a small Peninsula, between the St. Sebastian
River, itself an arm of the sea, and the Bay. Its plan is that of an
oblong parallelogram, traversed longitudinally by two principal streets,
which are intersected at right angles by cross streets. The Isthmus
connecting the Peninsula to the main is on the north, and is
strengthened by a stone causeway. The ruins of a suburb, called the
North City, are visible near it. Most of the streets are narrow, without
sidewalks, and shaded by projecting balconies.
On the east is the harbor, a sheet of water about eight fathoms in
depth, known as the Matanzas river. It is separated from the ocean by
Anastasia, or Fish Island, a narrow tract of land about fourteen miles
long. The inlet is variable in depth, but rarely averages over five
feet.
The principal buildings are of _Coquina_ rock. This is a concretion of
fragments of shells, of recent formation. It extends along the east
coast for about a hundred and fifty miles, in some places rising above
the surface level, at others covered with several feet of sand. In one
spot, near St. Augustine, it rests upon a peat bog. The quarries are on
Anastasia Island, and are worth visiting.
Near the center of the town is the *Plaza, or square. In its midst is an
unpretending monument, square at the base, and eighteen feet high, on
which is inscribed:
PLAZA DE LA CONSTITUCION.
This was erected in 1812, to commemorate the short-lived constitutional
form of government then instituted in Spain.
The building on the west side of the square was the residence of the
Spanish Governors. It has been rebuilt and much altered since the
purchase of the territory, and is now used for the United States Court.
On the opposite side, between the Square and the water, is the Market
House.
The building on the north side is the Roman Catholic Church. Its quaint
belfry has four bells which ring forth the Angelus thrice daily. One of
these has the following inscription:
_Sancte Joseph,
Ora pro Nobis.
A. D., 1682._
This church was commenced in 1793, and doubtless this bell was brought
from the previous church, which was on St. George street. In the
interior, the ceiling is painted, the floor of concrete, and there are a
few pictures, none of note. Many of its attendants are descendants of
Spanish and Minorcan families.
Opposite the Roman Catholic, is the Episcopal church, consecrated in
1833.
The oldest building in the city is supposed to be that at the corner of
Green Lane and Bay street. A century ago it was the residence of the
English attorney general, and was probably built about 1750. It will be
observed that the coquina rock does not wear very well.
At the north end of the town, where the causeway (of modern
construction) connects with the main land, is the *City Gate, flanked by
two square pillars, with Moorish tops. On either side a dry ditch, and
the remains of a wall, mark the fortified limits of the city.
At the southern extremity of the peninsula are the Barracks, built on
the foundations of the ancient Franciscan convent. From their top a fine
view of the town can be obtained. In the rear of the main building is a
Cemetery where the victims of “Dade’s Massacre,” during the 1st Seminole
war, were buried, and other members of the U. S. forces.
Still further south are the United States Arsenal and the remains of an
ancient breastwork.
The whole east front of the town for more than a mile is occupied by the
*_sea wall_. It was built by the United States (1837-1843) to prevent
the encroachment of the waves. The material is coquina stone topped by
granite. It is wide enough for two persons to walk abreast upon it, and
it is a favorite evening promenade. It encloses two handsome basins,
with steps leading to the water.
Fort Marion, or, as it was formerly called, the castle of San Marco,
occupies a commanding position on the north of the city. It is
considered a fine specimen of military architecture, having been
constructed on the principles laid down by the famous engineer Vauban.
No fees are required for visitors. The walls are 21 feet high, with
bastions at each corner, the whole structure being in the form of a
trapezium, and enclosing an area about sixty yds. square. The main
entrance is by a drawbridge. Over this is sculptured on a block of stone
the Spanish coat of arms, surmounted by the globe and cross, with a
Maltese cross and lamb beneath. Immediately under the arms is this
inscription:
_Reynando en Espana el Senr
Don Fernando Sexto y siendo
Govor. y Capn. de esa. Cd. San. Augn. de
La Florida y sus Prova. el Mariscal
de campos Don Alonzo Ferndo. Hereda
Asi concluio este Castillo el an
OD. 1756. Dirigiendo las obras el
Cap Ingnro. Dn. Pedro de Brozas
y Garay._
“Don Ferdinand VI. being king of Spain, the field marshal, Don Alonzo
Fernando Hereda, governor and captain of this city of San Augustin de la
Florida and its provinces, finished this castle in the year 1756, the
captain of engineers Don Pedro de Brozas y Garay superintending the
work.”
From the space in the interior, doors lead to the casemates. Opposite
the entrance, in the northern casemate, is the apartment which was
formerly used as a chapel. The altar stone is still preserved. In
another apartment, the small window is pointed out through which
Coacoochee, a distinguished Seminole chieftain, made his escape in the
first Seminole war. Under the north east bastion there are subterranean
cells, probably used for confining prisoners, in one of which a human
skeleton is said to have been found. The curtain on the east side of the
fort, still shows the marks of Oglethorpe’s cannon balls.
The vicinity of St. Augustine is uninteresting. A pleasant drive can be
taken through the town and along the east bank of the Sebastian river. A
sail along Matanzas river has some attractions. Several good sail boats
can be hired, some accommodating twenty or twenty-five persons, price
$5.00 a day. A few miles south of the city an elevated spot marks the
remains of General Moultrie’s (of revolutionary fame) residence. At the
southern extremity of Anastasia island the ruins of a Spanish look-out
are visible. Rock island, on the north shore of the inlet near this
point, has a remarkable Indian mound.
Curlews and snipes afford some good sport along the strand, and in the
winter, a brace or two of ducks can always be bagged on Anastasia
island, but their flavor is not attractive.
The nearest _orange grove_ is that of Dr. Anderson, on the west side of
the town. In going thither, the path should be chosen leading through
the pleasant orange walk on the grounds of Mr. Buckingham Smith.
The chief local industry at St. Augustine is the *_palmetto work_. Hats,
baskets, and boxes are very tastefully plaited from the sun-dried leaves
of the low variety of that plant. Specimens of this handwork make
pleasant mementoes of a visit to this ancient city.
I now return to Picolata on the St. John. About a mile north of the
landing, on the bank of the river, lived Col. John Lee Williams, the
author of “The Natural and Civil History of Florida,” and “View of West
Florida,” and in many ways conspicuous in the early history of the
State. He died in 1857, and was buried in his own garden. I had the
melancholy satisfaction of visiting his grave the day after his burial,
having reached Picolata without learning his death. I was told that the
river here had materially altered its course within the memory of those
now living. I am certainly unable to account in any other way for the
total disappearance of the Spanish fort which, a century ago, existed
here. The traveller Bartram describes it as built of coquina stone
brought from Anastasia island. The main work, a square tower, thirty
feet high, with battlements allowing two guns on each side, was
surrounded by a high wall, pierced with loop-holes and a deep exterior
ditch. Even at that time he speaks of it as “very ancient.”
On the opposite bank of the river was the fort of St. Francis de Poppa.
Its earthworks are still visible, about one mile north of the landing.
From St. Francis de Poppa the old Spanish road led across the province
to St. Marks on the Gulf. Two small Sulphur Springs are found a short
distance from the Picolata landing.
Fifteen miles above Picolata the steamer stops on the right (west) bank
at
PALATKA.
_Hotels._--Putnam House, St. John’s House, charges, $3.50 per day. The
Palatka hotels are tolerable, but not so good as those of Jacksonville.
Several boarding houses. A large hotel is projected.
This was originally a military post in the Indian war of 1836-’40. The
town is built on a sand bluff ten to fifteen feet above the river, a few
inches of shells forming the surface soil. There are 800 or 1,000
inhabitants, principally engaged in orange culture and lumbering.
Several beautiful orange groves are in the vicinity, and constitute the
only attraction of the place. The streets are sandy, and walking is
difficult. Steamboats run from here direct to Charleston and Savannah,
and also to the lakes of Marion and Alachua counties and up the Oklawaha
river to Lake Griffin. A mail stage runs to Tampa.
Above Palatka the river narrows, and the banks become as a rule lower
and more swampy. At a point twelve miles above, on the left (east) bank,
Buffalo bluff meets the river, a ridge of loose sandrock surmounted by a
stratum of shells from six to ten feet in thickness. Five miles beyond,
on the same side, is Horse Landing, where a shell and sand mound rises
abruptly about eight feet from the water. This has been carefully
examined by Prof. Jeffries Wyman, and pronounced to have been built by
the ancient possessors of the land. About eighteen miles above Palatka,
on the east bank, is the small town of
WELAKA.
Large boarding houses were here before the war but were destroyed. A
capacious hotel is in process of erection. Three large sulphur springs
are in the immediate vicinity, which could doubtless be applied to
sanitary purposes. The soil is good, and well adapted to oranges. Eight
miles east of Welaka is *Dunn’s Lake, a beautiful sheet of water twelve
miles long and three wide, abundantly stocked with fish. Its shores
abound in game, and many rich plantations are on and near it. The soil
is unsurpassed by any in Florida, and has always borne a high
reputation.