Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Florida. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 27, 2017
1871 Cruises to Florida
Charleston S.C. was a busy port and in 1871 there were many ships headed to Florida from Charleston. Below is an ad from The Charleston Daily News July 17, 1871. What I find interesting from this ad is it lists when you depart and when you would return give us a great example of the time involved in steam travel on the lower east coast.
Saturday, August 27, 2016
Sponges
In the 19th century sponge harvesting in America started in Key West. After storms sponges would wash up on the beachs. This begin the business of harvesting sponges, which became one of the largest industries on Key West in the 19th century, in 1849. As it became an industry a fleet (about 350 boats) called "Hook Boats" soon filled the docks and shores. These hook boats were long and thin, the spongers would stand in the boat and use long poles with holes to pull the sponges from the reefs. this industry grew quickly eventually reaching 1400 men.
Sponging on Key West ended by the end of the century with the Spanish American war going on in 1898 and sponges being nearly all gone the spongers moved up to Tarpon Springs to continue their harvesting.
Sponging on Key West ended by the end of the century with the Spanish American war going on in 1898 and sponges being nearly all gone the spongers moved up to Tarpon Springs to continue their harvesting.
Friday, August 19, 2016
The American Riviera
In 1884 Henry M. Flagler, sometimes known as a captain of industry, came to St. Augustine, Florida. It was during that visit when he purchased some marsh land within the city gates of St. Augustine, filled it up and built Ponce de Leon Hotel. A couple years later he purchased a small stretch of track from Jacksonville to St. Augustine. This small track would eventually stretch all the way down to Key West.
Flagler purchased land to build his railroad but to also build hotels. "In fact, whenever a town was platted, arrangements were contemporaneously made to supply a church and a school--and he was not particular as to the denomination of the religion to be supplied." Flagler did not finish this work by the end of the 19th century but he wasn't too farway from it's completion. He reached Miami by the end of the century and completed on to Key West in 1912.
There is much to read about Flagler and the growth of Florida. Here's how Nevin O. Winter in his book "Florida" © 1918, began his chapter on the American Riviera.
"The east coast of Florida has already developed into one of the famous playgrounds of the world. Because of the influence of the Gulf Stream, it enjoys unusual natural advantages, and there is a splendid equability of temperature. There is a general absence of foggy and rainy days, a preponderance of sunshine, and an opportunity for sea bathing every day in the year without joining the " polar club." Although the summers are long, the extreme heat is less than would naturally be expected, and the nights are almost invariably pleasant."
Flagler purchased land to build his railroad but to also build hotels. "In fact, whenever a town was platted, arrangements were contemporaneously made to supply a church and a school--and he was not particular as to the denomination of the religion to be supplied." Flagler did not finish this work by the end of the 19th century but he wasn't too farway from it's completion. He reached Miami by the end of the century and completed on to Key West in 1912.
There is much to read about Flagler and the growth of Florida. Here's how Nevin O. Winter in his book "Florida" © 1918, began his chapter on the American Riviera.
"The east coast of Florida has already developed into one of the famous playgrounds of the world. Because of the influence of the Gulf Stream, it enjoys unusual natural advantages, and there is a splendid equability of temperature. There is a general absence of foggy and rainy days, a preponderance of sunshine, and an opportunity for sea bathing every day in the year without joining the " polar club." Although the summers are long, the extreme heat is less than would naturally be expected, and the nights are almost invariably pleasant."
Friday, August 5, 2016
Cisterns
Capacity of Cisterns
For Each 10 inches in Depth
Twenty-five feet in diameter holds.. . . .3059 gallons
Twenty feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . .1958 gallons
Fifteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . 1101 gallons
Fourteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . .959 gallons
Thirteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . 827 gallons
Twelve feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . 705 gallons
Eleven feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . .592 gallons
Ten feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . .489 gallons
Nine feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . 396 gallons
Eight feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . 313 gallons
Seven feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . .239 gallons
Six and one-half feet in diameter holds . . . .175 gallons
Five feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . . .122 gallons
Four and one-half in diameter holds . . . . . . .99 gallons
Three feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . .44 gallons
Two and one-half feet in diameter holds . . . 30 gallons
Two feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . . .19 gallons
From page 37 of Houghtaling's Handbook
Growing up on Martha's Vineyard I never really thought much about cisterns. The Vineyard has plenty of underground water and my family and I drilled our own well. When I was researching Key West for a series of novels I set there, I discovered the small island had been on many pirates maps of the area. It was one of the few Islands (The Florida Keys) that actually had it's own fresh water supply. Here's the rub, once people decided to settle there, the underground spring could not support them all. When the Navy in 1823 came to the Island, they made huge cisterns to capture the rainwater.
Cisterns were used in the expansion of the West as well.
If you're a writer research your area see if they were used. Who knows you might be able to make use of this historical tidbit in your story. I did when my heroine from the North, fully garbed in a woolen dress, all the undergarments a proper woman would wear at that time, and Key West heat over took the poor gal. Naturally, she ended up in the cistern to cool down her body temp from the heat stroke she was suffering from. It was a fun scene to write and quite frankly there have been days in the hot Florida sun I would have loved to cool off in the cool waters of a cistern. Of course, you wouldn't want to drink that water but that's another story.
For Each 10 inches in Depth
Twenty-five feet in diameter holds.. . . .3059 gallons
Twenty feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . .1958 gallons
Fifteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . 1101 gallons
Fourteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . .959 gallons
Thirteen feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . 827 gallons
Twelve feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . 705 gallons
Eleven feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . .592 gallons
Ten feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . .489 gallons
Nine feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . 396 gallons
Eight feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . 313 gallons
Seven feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . .239 gallons
Six and one-half feet in diameter holds . . . .175 gallons
Five feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . . .122 gallons
Four and one-half in diameter holds . . . . . . .99 gallons
Three feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . .44 gallons
Two and one-half feet in diameter holds . . . 30 gallons
Two feet in diameter holds . . . . . . . . . . . . . .19 gallons
From page 37 of Houghtaling's Handbook
Growing up on Martha's Vineyard I never really thought much about cisterns. The Vineyard has plenty of underground water and my family and I drilled our own well. When I was researching Key West for a series of novels I set there, I discovered the small island had been on many pirates maps of the area. It was one of the few Islands (The Florida Keys) that actually had it's own fresh water supply. Here's the rub, once people decided to settle there, the underground spring could not support them all. When the Navy in 1823 came to the Island, they made huge cisterns to capture the rainwater.
Cisterns were used in the expansion of the West as well.
If you're a writer research your area see if they were used. Who knows you might be able to make use of this historical tidbit in your story. I did when my heroine from the North, fully garbed in a woolen dress, all the undergarments a proper woman would wear at that time, and Key West heat over took the poor gal. Naturally, she ended up in the cistern to cool down her body temp from the heat stroke she was suffering from. It was a fun scene to write and quite frankly there have been days in the hot Florida sun I would have loved to cool off in the cool waters of a cistern. Of course, you wouldn't want to drink that water but that's another story.
Monday, February 23, 2015
1873 Cost of living in Tallahassee, FL.
I stumbled on this interesting tidbit about the cost of living in Tallahassee while helping someone else with the cost of living in Florida. Take a look at the cost of beef? A wee bit different than the prices we are paying today.
The cost of living in Tallahassee is perhaps as little as any other place of the same size in the southern country. The market is supplied with good beef, mutton and pork, at from 8 to 12 cents per pound. Poultry of all kinds at moderate prices and plentiful. Oysters in winter in any quantity at 11.50 per bbl., and fish from the coast, such as mullet, sheepshead, speckled trout, bass, flounders, &c., &c., at very low prices, are brought fresh every day. Surrounded by fertile lands there is never a scarcity of fresh garden vegetables of all kinds, in their season.
The society of the place is excellent. True, many changes have taken place of late years. Some of the best citizens have moved away, but there are still left quite a number who give character to the city for hospitality and sociability, and they will always be found ready to extend the hand of friendship to all such new-comers as come for legitimate purposes and know how to behave themselves without regard to their place of nativity. In short, I know of no more agreeable place to spend a winter or to locate for life.
The climate of Leon county, although it is not tropical, is mild and pleasant in winter. Although we frequently have frost, and ice occasionally, yet it is rare for the thermometer to go below 40 deg. Fahr., and then only for a short time, while one would feel comfortable in summer clothing at least one half of our winter. In the summer the thermometer rarely , indicates a greater heat than 96 deg. F. in the shade, and the average in the middle of our August days is not above 90 deg. This heat is tempered by the almost constant sea breeze, the influence of which is distinctly felt. The nights are invariably pleasant, and even in the hottest part of the season some covering is generally necessary to comfortable sleeping.
Source: The Florida Settler ©1873
The cost of living in Tallahassee is perhaps as little as any other place of the same size in the southern country. The market is supplied with good beef, mutton and pork, at from 8 to 12 cents per pound. Poultry of all kinds at moderate prices and plentiful. Oysters in winter in any quantity at 11.50 per bbl., and fish from the coast, such as mullet, sheepshead, speckled trout, bass, flounders, &c., &c., at very low prices, are brought fresh every day. Surrounded by fertile lands there is never a scarcity of fresh garden vegetables of all kinds, in their season.
The society of the place is excellent. True, many changes have taken place of late years. Some of the best citizens have moved away, but there are still left quite a number who give character to the city for hospitality and sociability, and they will always be found ready to extend the hand of friendship to all such new-comers as come for legitimate purposes and know how to behave themselves without regard to their place of nativity. In short, I know of no more agreeable place to spend a winter or to locate for life.
The climate of Leon county, although it is not tropical, is mild and pleasant in winter. Although we frequently have frost, and ice occasionally, yet it is rare for the thermometer to go below 40 deg. Fahr., and then only for a short time, while one would feel comfortable in summer clothing at least one half of our winter. In the summer the thermometer rarely , indicates a greater heat than 96 deg. F. in the shade, and the average in the middle of our August days is not above 90 deg. This heat is tempered by the almost constant sea breeze, the influence of which is distinctly felt. The nights are invariably pleasant, and even in the hottest part of the season some covering is generally necessary to comfortable sleeping.
Source: The Florida Settler ©1873
Friday, July 25, 2014
The Florida Keys
Below are two reports to the U.S. House of Representatives about the Florida Keys. They describe each Key and what they found on them. For those of you who enjoy the keys. It is an opportunity to see what they looked like before they were as settled as they are now.
SIR: In compliance with your instructions of November 19, 1856, I proceeded to Key West, but I was unable to engage a pilot to accompany me to Cape Sable, such was the general terror of Indians.
I therefore lost no time in commencing a sheet among the Keys about 25 miles to the northward and eastward of Key West. I reached the scene of active operations about the 20th of January, 1857.
Burnt key, which was the first in order of survey, is upwards of a mile and a half in length, but quite narrow. The land is slightly elevated, and sustains a growth of large trees, principally button wood with scarcely any mangrove. South of these are two small keys, not wooded, and nearly covered at high water.
Directly west of Burnt key, and scarcely half'a mile distant, is Knock-em-down key, which is three miles in length and averages nearly a mile in breadth. Comparatively a small portion of it is beyond the reach of ordinary high water, and it is very much out up by lagoons and creeks. But a small portion of the Key is wooded.
Budd key, the next to the northwest, is about a mile in length, but narrow. lt is separated into three distinct parts by narrow channels, one of which is quite deep, even at low water.
Beyond this to the northwest, are some half a dozen small Mangrove keys, or shoals, only one of which, Michael’s key, is judged worthy ofa name, and that is but little more than a quarter oi'a mile in length.
A mile to the northward, however, brings us to Raccoon key, which is one and a half miles long, and from a quarter to halfa mile in width. The woods occupy but a small portion of the surface. They are principally of buttonwood and mangrove. Northwest of this are three small Mangrove keys, the largest of which, Eagle key, covers an area of nearly a. quarter of a square mile.
Parts of the Torch and Howes keys also come on my sheet. The former group with its numerous shoals, and small grassy keys, intersected by numerous channels, most of them dry or nearly so at low water, covers an area of about four square miles. Torch key proper is, in some places, a mile wide, and is to a great extent overgrown with buttonwood, sea-grape, torch, a few palmetto, and many other species of trees.
East of this are three small keys, from three to five hundred metres in length, each densely covered with mangrove.
Due north of Torch, and separated from it by a channel only onefourth of a mile wide, are a group called Water keys. These stretch in a northerly direction about three miles, and are all connected by flats at low water, at which time they form one continuous chain. But long before the tide reaches its full height, they are separated into nearly a dozen, most of them very small. The most southerly, and the only one of any size, is long and narrow, being more than half the length ofthe whole chain, and supports a ridge of large high trees.
The western half of Howes key lies to the southeast of Water key, distant three-fourths of a mile, and the portion on my sheet covers an area of nearly two square miles. The northwest part is low and intersected by lagoons, and the woods are thin.
To the north and west of Water key are the Eastern and Western Contents. These groups stretch in a. northeast direction for about three miles, and vary in breadth from a half to three-quarters of a mile. They are intersected by numerous deep passages, mostly narrow, except the one between the two groups, which is over half a. mile wide, and at the mouth of which there is a break in the reef which stretches along outside of these keys for a. considerable distance.
Lastly comes Harbor key, situated about :one and a. quarter mile east northeast of the Contents. This is a. small and nearly round key, scarcely two hundred metres in diameter, but the land is high and the woods dense. It can be seen and readily distinguished at a considerable distance, and derives some importance from being a. prominent land mark for vessels cruising in the bay.
There is a narrow strip of coral reef north of the eastern Content group, a little more than one-fourth of a. mile distant, which is bare at low water. Between it and the shore the water is shallow, but the outer edge falls precipitately to a depth of one and a half fathoms.
The space included between the Contents, Water, Torch, and Raccoon keys, an area of six square miles, is one extensive fiat, not quite dry at low water, except in a. few scattered places, yet impassable for boats even of the smallest draught.
The accompanying map of this locality contains eighty-nine quarter section stakes, labelled, respectively, M, P. and M, P.
After completing the sheet just mentioned, I succeeded in obtaining a pilot for Cape Sable, where I commenced about the middle of March, and worked as far from the base line as was practicable previous to triangulation.
Cape Sable, from what I could learn, is probably an island, formed by Shark river leading up to White Water bay, a large inland lake; and this also has another towards the east, which empties somewhere into Barnes’ sound.
From Cape Sable proper, or as it is sometimes called the Eastern Cape, to Palm Point, there is a fine sand beach, with a ridge about three feet in height, running along just back of high water mark. This gradually falls away towards the woods, which are in most places upwards of a hundred yards from the shore, but in some places run in close to the beach.
At Palm Point there is a large open space of firm ground, or fine rolling prairie, some six feet above the level of the sea. It has recently been selected as the site for a small military station, Fort Cross.
The most prominent objects in this vicinity are two tall palm trees, the largest being upwards of one hundred feet in height. They are quite useful as land marks.
Just beyond the prairie at Palm Point, proceeding in a northwest direction, the woods again approach to the water’s edge and continue to skirt the shore for some two miles, where they begin gradually to recede; and there is a fine high sand beach reaching to the Northwest Cape. Here again there is a high undulating prairie. Beyond that the woods grow close to the water's edge, and to the westward of this point there is no clear land for several miles more; in fact, except here and there a very small prairie on some of the innumerable scattered islands formed by the mouths of the various rivers between here and Cape Romano.
For the shore line from Palm Point to the Northwest Cape, I was obliged to use a separate sheet.
From Fort Poinsett, eastward, there is a high sand beach, as far as a point which makes out abreast the east end of the base line. The walking would be good were it not for the dead mangroves which have decayed and fallen into the water. At the foot of the sand ridge the soft gray mud commences and stretches out with scarcely a perceptible variation in the depth of the water for some distance, say two hundred yards, and from these shoals very gradually out to the channel, about three-fourths of a mile, where there is from seven to ten {{eet of water. This channel extends perhaps a mile beyond the Oyster
eys.
To the eastward of that the whole country is one extensive flat, dry at low water for miles. After a strong northerly wind has prevailed for a day or two this becomes perfectly bare to a distance of two or three miles from the main, and remains so until a change of wind.
The surface is covered entirely by soft grey mud, into which a pedestrian must sink more than two feet at every step.
Beyond the point above mentioned the mangroves grow to the water’s edge, and, in fact, from the shore line.
This growth continues to the “ upper crossing,” opposite the Orster keys, the eastern boundary of my sheet. Here there is a narrbw opening, perhaps twenty yards wide, where the prairie comes down to the water’s edge. Beyond that the mangrove appears again, and is absolutely impenetrable.
There is a narrow slip of fast land between the beach and the base line. There the “ glades ” commence, a marsh dotted with hammocks. These latter are mostly quite narrow, although some stretch to a considerable length.
To the northwest of the second mile stone of the base line, there is a solid growth of black mangrove reaching to Fort Poinsett. In it are several ponds, mostly small, although the largest is three-fourths of a mile in length. These are all connected together by trails run by the alligators in their migrations from one pond to the other; and to White \Vater lake, which commences about a mile and a half northwest of the west base, and stretches in a northwest direction between four and five miles to just beyond Palm Point, it averages threequarters of a mile in width. The water is salt, and the ebb and flow though slight is plainly perceptible. The bottom is composed of very soft and unusually sticky black mud. The lake is completely enclosed by the woods, except portions of the eastern shore which border on the prairie. While I was there the water was very shallow, as was the case with all the ponds, a number of them even being entirely dry. The greatest depth of water did not exceed six inches. But when the glades are full during the rainy season, the water rises to a height of over six feet.
My sheet of this vicinity also embraces Sandy key. This is a narrow strip of land, in shape, resembling the two legs of a right angled triangle, and is only remarkable for the countless flocks of sea birds which frequent it.
The last sheet referred to is marked by fifty-two quarter section stakes, labelled respectively, M: P: and M, P., mostly the latter.
After completing all that I judged it prudent to attempt previous to triangulation, towards the latter part of April I proceeded to the Vacas keys. Having obtained points of Lieutenant Clark, furnished from his work of this season, I commenced upon Key Vacas, joining Assistant Adams’ work of a previous season, and worked in an easterly direction.
Key Vacas is about five and a half miles in length, and varies in width from a quarter to half a mile. It is mostly wooded, though parts of it are cleared, and towards the eastern extremity there is a small settlement of about a dozen houses.
An extensive shoal makes out from the southern shore for a mile or upwards, scattered portions of which are dry at low water.
A number of very small keys and rocks lie at short distances from the northern shore of Key Vacas, only one of which, Rachel’s key, has been named.
That part of Boot key which my sheet embraces is nearly two miles long but very narrow. The eastern portion is high firm ground, but the middle of the key is entirely out up by lagoons and deep channels.
The Stirrup keys are three in number and lie to the northward of Key Vacas. The largest, on which the station is situated, is three
fourths of a mile long, and in the widest place measures about a quarter of a mile.
Fat Deer key lies to the eastward of Key Vacas, from which it is separated by a narrow but quite deep channel called Jacob’s Harbor Passage.
This key is much out up by numerous channels, most of them deep, and is moreover divided throughout its entire length by a large lagoon.
The whole length of that portion of the group which is contained on my sheet is about two miles, and it averages about a quarter of a mile in width.
Bamboo key lies to the northward of the preceding. It is scarcely a quarter of a mile long by about one hundred metres in width. This sheet is marked by sixty-seven quarter section stakes, labelled respectively M: P: and M, P. It was completed on the 16th of May, at which date I discontinued operations in section VI.
The total amount of work done by my party was: Shore line 210§ miles; wood and marsh lines 69 miles, within a total area of seventythree square miles.
Yours very respectfully,
F. W. DORE,
United States Coast Survey. A. D. Bacns, L. L. D.,
Superintendent United States Coast Survey.
***
Wasnmeron CITY, D. 0., June 16, 1857.
Sm: In pursuance of your instructions I repaired to Key \Vest in November. Owing to repairs of my vessel, the United States schooner Agassiz, and the death of my assistant, Mr. S. J. Hough, the commencement of my work was delayed until the 3d of January.
The operations of my party this year embraced the topography and marking of the following named Florida keys, viz: Big Torch, Little Torch, Big Pine, No Name, Howes, Newfound Harbor, Pye’s, Annette, Little Spanish, Big Spanish, Flat, Grassy, Johnson’s, East and West Bahia Honda, and several smaller keys in their vicinity.
Ramrod key is one and a half miles in length by one and a quarter miles in breadth. The outer shore is of coral rock. The key is covered with heavy mangrove, palmetto, sea-grape, and buttonwood. On the southeastern end is a lagoon three and a quarter miles long by a quarter mile wide. The depth of water in this lagoon is from five to fifteen inches. This key was marked by fourteen painted posts in parallel meridian, and also in quarter sections. The rocky portion of the key was marked by iron stakes two and a half feet long, driven into the rock four inches. These were marked with a cold chisel on one side, the letters M, MP, or P being painted on another side. On other parts of the key yellow pine posts, four feet long, were driven into the ground one and a half feet and protected by coral rocks piled around them. The posts were marked on one side with the letters U. S. C. S., and on the other side M, MP or P, with black paint.
Big Torch key, which lies next to Ramrod, is irregular in shape, and is divided into three separate keys by a channel one mile in length by one hundred and sixty-four yards wide, with a depth varying from six inches to three feet. The shore of Torch is rocky on the eastern and western sides. The northern and southern being extensive mud plats covered by the sea at high tide. This key is a formation of coral rock covered with a thin crust of marl about one inch in depth, and is thickly wooded with black mangrove, palmetto, sea-grape, and buttonwood. The key was marked by thirty posts of iron and yellow pine, designated as those on Ramrod key.
Little Torch key is separated from Big Torch by a channel two and a quarter miles in length by a quarter mile in breadth, with a depth of three feet. This key is three miles in length and a half mile in breadth. The soil and wood are like those of Big Torch key. Little Torch was marked by fif'teen posts of iron and yellow pine, similar to the section marks of Big Torch key.
Big Pine key, due east of Big and Little Torch, is of irregular shape. It is nine miles in length by three miles in breadth, comprises an area of thirteen square miles, and is covered with a heavy growth of yellow pine trees, varying in height from twenty-five to sixty feet. The eastern shore, extending from Big Pine station, is nearly opposite No Name station, is a white sandy beach, the remainder being of coral rock, with mud flats here and there. This key, as others, is covered with small rocks and with soil in some places from one to two inches in depth. The only feature claiming attention is the pine timber, the northern end being thickly wooded with mangrove and buttonwood. There is on the northwestern side a small lagoon, which is nearly dry at low water. This key was marked by fifty-five posts, yellow pine, with the letters U. S. G. S. on one side, and M, M P, or P on the other, with black paint.
No Name key, which lies due east of Big Pine, is three miles in length, and one and a half miles in breadth. This key is covered with a heavy growth of mangrove and palmetto. A grove of yellow pine trees, about a quarter mile square, extends into the middle of the key. The soil on No Name is similar in character to that of Big Pine key. No Name key was marked by seventeen posts of yellow pine, distinguished as those placed on Big Pine key.
Newfound harbor is a group of three small keys. The largest is of irregular shape, and is one and a quarter miles in length by a quarter mile in breadth in the middle, tapering at each end to two hundred and eighteen yards in breadth. Another is about two hundred and seventy-three yards in length by one hundred and sixty yards in breadth. The third, which nearly joins to Big Pine key, is about a half mile in length by one hundred and sixty-four yards in breadth. These keys are covered with mangrove and buttonwood, and were marked by five posts. There is a fine harbor on the inside of the keys for vessels drawing from four to ten feet. _
Little Pine key lies due north of Big Pine and No Name keys, 18 three miles in length by seven-eighths of a mile in breadth in the centre, the eastern and western ends being about two hundred and eighteen yards wide. This, like Big Pine key, is mostly covered with yellow pine trees, varying in height from twenty-five to fifty feet; the eastern and western ends are thickly covered with black mangrove and buttonwood. The soil is similar to that of Big Pine key. On this key fourteen posts of yellow pine were planted, and marked as those on the key last mentioned.
Pye’s Harbor key is a small mangrove key, and lies between Loggerhead and Newfound harbor. It is surrounded by extensive mud flats, covered with water at the lowest tides.
Annette key, due north of Big Pine, is one and a quarter miles in length by a half mile in breadth. The surface is covered with thick mangrove and buttonwood, and is marked by ten posts of yellow pine. There is a low fiat key adjoining, which is entirely covered by the sea at high tide, and is surrounded by extensive mud flats, bare at low water.
Big Spanish key is the most northwardly, covered with thick mangrove, and entirely overflowed at the lowest tides.
Little Spanish key, east of Big S anish, is about three-quarters of a mile in length by one-quarter o a mile in breadth. This key is also overgrown with mangrove, with extensive mud flats inside. The northern part of the key is nearly covered with water at high tide. This key was marked with two yellow pine posts.
Crawl key, northeast of Annette key, is very small, and covered with mangrove.
Howe’s key, which lies northwest of Big Pine, is thickly covered with black mangrove and buttonwood. The southeastern end is much cut up with lagoons, varying in depth from six to twenty inches, but nearly dry at low tide. This key was marked by fifteen posts of iron and yellow pine, and designated as others already described.
Mayo’s key, east of Annette key, is one mile in length by two hundred and seventy-three yards at the widest part. This key, like the others, is thickly overgrown with black mangrove, sea-grape, and buttonwood, and was marked by four yellow pine posts.
Johnson’s keys, three in number, lie due north of Little Pine key. Key No. 1 is seven-eighths of a mile in length by a quarter mile in breadth. Key No. 2 is about one mile in length by a half mile in breadth. Key No. 3 is six hundred and fifty-six yards in length, and one hundred yards in breadth. These keys are likewise covered with black mangrove, sea-grape, and a small quantity of buttonwood. The area was divided by eleven posts of yellow pine, and marked as those on other keys.
Flat key, northeast of Johnson’s keys, is one mile in length by a half mile in breadth, and is covered by the .sea at high tide. It is thickly overspread with mangrove and buttonwood. This key was marked with three yellow pine posts.
West Bahia Honda, one mile from Flat key, is a half mile in length by one-eighth of a mile in breadth. It is covered by the sea at high tide.
East Bahia Honda, two and a half miles east of Bahia Honda, is about one-half mile in length by one-third of a mile in breadth. This key is also thickly covered with heavy mangroves.
My season‘s work of four months covers an area of thirty-one square miles, and includes one hundred and ninety miles of shoreline. Mr. G. U. Mayo assisted me in the work part of the season, for which great credit is due him. The topography is comprised in three sheets, which will be deposited in the archives when inked. Operations were discontinued on the 3d of May. 18Téie schooner Agassiz was laid up in Baltimore, Md., on June 3,
5 .
I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
C. T. IARDELLA, Sub-Assistant United States Coast Survey. Prof. A. D. Bacnn, Superintendent United States Coast Survey.
INDIAN KEY, May 4, 1857.
DEAR SIR: I have to report that,°in obedience to your instructions of November, I proceeded to Key Largo, Florida, on the 16th of January.
After putting down eighty section posts there for the land office, the Indian hostilities having increased, it was deemed imprudent to expose the party, which was without any means of defence. I proceeded to Point Charles, and continued the plane table work on the outside of Key Largo, and have completed all the key and the creeks as far as it was possible to go from the seaside, also the outside shoreline of Upper and Lower Matecumbe, which extends about four miles below Indian key.
I have surveyed about one hundred and twenty miles of coast and banks, and about five or six of interior, and put down eighty section posts. Most of the outside shore of Key Largo and all the keys are of coral rock, soft enough in places to force the posts down. Where this was impossible, I used iron stakes flattened at the top and marked with a chisel U. S. C. S. on one side, and M. or P. or M. P., as the case required, on the other. The wooden posts were marked with the same character in paint.
The soil on Key Largo from Point Charles, where my season’s work commenced, is superior to that of most of the other keys. This key, Upper and Lower Matecumbe, and Lignum-vitte, being the most fertile of any of the large keys. The growth on them is large and very prolific ; they are covered for some distance back from the water with a low growth of small trees and bushes, where the land is comparatively high, caused by the water making its deposit there, going towards the interior. The trees are large, but the ground swampy from the creeks, which pass through the higher land in small streams, and spread themselves over the key in numerous branches and ponds. The two Matecumbe keys are much more free of these than Key Largo. The upper one has one spring upon it and the lower five.
Key Rodrigues is overflowed at high tide, and Tavernier has some fast land on it, only on the northern end, which would probably be
overflowed at very high tide. The two small keys, Dove and Tea Table, have a very good soil on them, deep enough for almost any growth. If properly drained, they would be very profitable, having the best soil I have seen in Florida. Very respectfully, S. A. WAINWRIGHT. Prof. A. D. BACHE, Srfoerintende'nt U. S. Coast Survey.
SIR: In compliance with your instructions of November 19, 1856, I proceeded to Key West, but I was unable to engage a pilot to accompany me to Cape Sable, such was the general terror of Indians.
I therefore lost no time in commencing a sheet among the Keys about 25 miles to the northward and eastward of Key West. I reached the scene of active operations about the 20th of January, 1857.
Burnt key, which was the first in order of survey, is upwards of a mile and a half in length, but quite narrow. The land is slightly elevated, and sustains a growth of large trees, principally button wood with scarcely any mangrove. South of these are two small keys, not wooded, and nearly covered at high water.
Directly west of Burnt key, and scarcely half'a mile distant, is Knock-em-down key, which is three miles in length and averages nearly a mile in breadth. Comparatively a small portion of it is beyond the reach of ordinary high water, and it is very much out up by lagoons and creeks. But a small portion of the Key is wooded.
Budd key, the next to the northwest, is about a mile in length, but narrow. lt is separated into three distinct parts by narrow channels, one of which is quite deep, even at low water.
Beyond this to the northwest, are some half a dozen small Mangrove keys, or shoals, only one of which, Michael’s key, is judged worthy ofa name, and that is but little more than a quarter oi'a mile in length.
A mile to the northward, however, brings us to Raccoon key, which is one and a half miles long, and from a quarter to halfa mile in width. The woods occupy but a small portion of the surface. They are principally of buttonwood and mangrove. Northwest of this are three small Mangrove keys, the largest of which, Eagle key, covers an area of nearly a. quarter of a square mile.
Parts of the Torch and Howes keys also come on my sheet. The former group with its numerous shoals, and small grassy keys, intersected by numerous channels, most of them dry or nearly so at low water, covers an area of about four square miles. Torch key proper is, in some places, a mile wide, and is to a great extent overgrown with buttonwood, sea-grape, torch, a few palmetto, and many other species of trees.
East of this are three small keys, from three to five hundred metres in length, each densely covered with mangrove.
Due north of Torch, and separated from it by a channel only onefourth of a mile wide, are a group called Water keys. These stretch in a northerly direction about three miles, and are all connected by flats at low water, at which time they form one continuous chain. But long before the tide reaches its full height, they are separated into nearly a dozen, most of them very small. The most southerly, and the only one of any size, is long and narrow, being more than half the length ofthe whole chain, and supports a ridge of large high trees.
The western half of Howes key lies to the southeast of Water key, distant three-fourths of a mile, and the portion on my sheet covers an area of nearly two square miles. The northwest part is low and intersected by lagoons, and the woods are thin.
To the north and west of Water key are the Eastern and Western Contents. These groups stretch in a. northeast direction for about three miles, and vary in breadth from a half to three-quarters of a mile. They are intersected by numerous deep passages, mostly narrow, except the one between the two groups, which is over half a. mile wide, and at the mouth of which there is a break in the reef which stretches along outside of these keys for a. considerable distance.
Lastly comes Harbor key, situated about :one and a. quarter mile east northeast of the Contents. This is a. small and nearly round key, scarcely two hundred metres in diameter, but the land is high and the woods dense. It can be seen and readily distinguished at a considerable distance, and derives some importance from being a. prominent land mark for vessels cruising in the bay.
There is a narrow strip of coral reef north of the eastern Content group, a little more than one-fourth of a. mile distant, which is bare at low water. Between it and the shore the water is shallow, but the outer edge falls precipitately to a depth of one and a half fathoms.
The space included between the Contents, Water, Torch, and Raccoon keys, an area of six square miles, is one extensive fiat, not quite dry at low water, except in a. few scattered places, yet impassable for boats even of the smallest draught.
The accompanying map of this locality contains eighty-nine quarter section stakes, labelled, respectively, M, P. and M, P.
After completing the sheet just mentioned, I succeeded in obtaining a pilot for Cape Sable, where I commenced about the middle of March, and worked as far from the base line as was practicable previous to triangulation.
Cape Sable, from what I could learn, is probably an island, formed by Shark river leading up to White Water bay, a large inland lake; and this also has another towards the east, which empties somewhere into Barnes’ sound.
From Cape Sable proper, or as it is sometimes called the Eastern Cape, to Palm Point, there is a fine sand beach, with a ridge about three feet in height, running along just back of high water mark. This gradually falls away towards the woods, which are in most places upwards of a hundred yards from the shore, but in some places run in close to the beach.
At Palm Point there is a large open space of firm ground, or fine rolling prairie, some six feet above the level of the sea. It has recently been selected as the site for a small military station, Fort Cross.
The most prominent objects in this vicinity are two tall palm trees, the largest being upwards of one hundred feet in height. They are quite useful as land marks.
Just beyond the prairie at Palm Point, proceeding in a northwest direction, the woods again approach to the water’s edge and continue to skirt the shore for some two miles, where they begin gradually to recede; and there is a fine high sand beach reaching to the Northwest Cape. Here again there is a high undulating prairie. Beyond that the woods grow close to the water's edge, and to the westward of this point there is no clear land for several miles more; in fact, except here and there a very small prairie on some of the innumerable scattered islands formed by the mouths of the various rivers between here and Cape Romano.
For the shore line from Palm Point to the Northwest Cape, I was obliged to use a separate sheet.
From Fort Poinsett, eastward, there is a high sand beach, as far as a point which makes out abreast the east end of the base line. The walking would be good were it not for the dead mangroves which have decayed and fallen into the water. At the foot of the sand ridge the soft gray mud commences and stretches out with scarcely a perceptible variation in the depth of the water for some distance, say two hundred yards, and from these shoals very gradually out to the channel, about three-fourths of a mile, where there is from seven to ten {{eet of water. This channel extends perhaps a mile beyond the Oyster
eys.
To the eastward of that the whole country is one extensive flat, dry at low water for miles. After a strong northerly wind has prevailed for a day or two this becomes perfectly bare to a distance of two or three miles from the main, and remains so until a change of wind.
The surface is covered entirely by soft grey mud, into which a pedestrian must sink more than two feet at every step.
Beyond the point above mentioned the mangroves grow to the water’s edge, and, in fact, from the shore line.
This growth continues to the “ upper crossing,” opposite the Orster keys, the eastern boundary of my sheet. Here there is a narrbw opening, perhaps twenty yards wide, where the prairie comes down to the water’s edge. Beyond that the mangrove appears again, and is absolutely impenetrable.
There is a narrow slip of fast land between the beach and the base line. There the “ glades ” commence, a marsh dotted with hammocks. These latter are mostly quite narrow, although some stretch to a considerable length.
To the northwest of the second mile stone of the base line, there is a solid growth of black mangrove reaching to Fort Poinsett. In it are several ponds, mostly small, although the largest is three-fourths of a mile in length. These are all connected together by trails run by the alligators in their migrations from one pond to the other; and to White \Vater lake, which commences about a mile and a half northwest of the west base, and stretches in a northwest direction between four and five miles to just beyond Palm Point, it averages threequarters of a mile in width. The water is salt, and the ebb and flow though slight is plainly perceptible. The bottom is composed of very soft and unusually sticky black mud. The lake is completely enclosed by the woods, except portions of the eastern shore which border on the prairie. While I was there the water was very shallow, as was the case with all the ponds, a number of them even being entirely dry. The greatest depth of water did not exceed six inches. But when the glades are full during the rainy season, the water rises to a height of over six feet.
My sheet of this vicinity also embraces Sandy key. This is a narrow strip of land, in shape, resembling the two legs of a right angled triangle, and is only remarkable for the countless flocks of sea birds which frequent it.
The last sheet referred to is marked by fifty-two quarter section stakes, labelled respectively, M: P: and M, P., mostly the latter.
After completing all that I judged it prudent to attempt previous to triangulation, towards the latter part of April I proceeded to the Vacas keys. Having obtained points of Lieutenant Clark, furnished from his work of this season, I commenced upon Key Vacas, joining Assistant Adams’ work of a previous season, and worked in an easterly direction.
Key Vacas is about five and a half miles in length, and varies in width from a quarter to half a mile. It is mostly wooded, though parts of it are cleared, and towards the eastern extremity there is a small settlement of about a dozen houses.
An extensive shoal makes out from the southern shore for a mile or upwards, scattered portions of which are dry at low water.
A number of very small keys and rocks lie at short distances from the northern shore of Key Vacas, only one of which, Rachel’s key, has been named.
That part of Boot key which my sheet embraces is nearly two miles long but very narrow. The eastern portion is high firm ground, but the middle of the key is entirely out up by lagoons and deep channels.
The Stirrup keys are three in number and lie to the northward of Key Vacas. The largest, on which the station is situated, is three
fourths of a mile long, and in the widest place measures about a quarter of a mile.
Fat Deer key lies to the eastward of Key Vacas, from which it is separated by a narrow but quite deep channel called Jacob’s Harbor Passage.
This key is much out up by numerous channels, most of them deep, and is moreover divided throughout its entire length by a large lagoon.
The whole length of that portion of the group which is contained on my sheet is about two miles, and it averages about a quarter of a mile in width.
Bamboo key lies to the northward of the preceding. It is scarcely a quarter of a mile long by about one hundred metres in width. This sheet is marked by sixty-seven quarter section stakes, labelled respectively M: P: and M, P. It was completed on the 16th of May, at which date I discontinued operations in section VI.
The total amount of work done by my party was: Shore line 210§ miles; wood and marsh lines 69 miles, within a total area of seventythree square miles.
Yours very respectfully,
F. W. DORE,
United States Coast Survey. A. D. Bacns, L. L. D.,
Superintendent United States Coast Survey.
***
Wasnmeron CITY, D. 0., June 16, 1857.
Sm: In pursuance of your instructions I repaired to Key \Vest in November. Owing to repairs of my vessel, the United States schooner Agassiz, and the death of my assistant, Mr. S. J. Hough, the commencement of my work was delayed until the 3d of January.
The operations of my party this year embraced the topography and marking of the following named Florida keys, viz: Big Torch, Little Torch, Big Pine, No Name, Howes, Newfound Harbor, Pye’s, Annette, Little Spanish, Big Spanish, Flat, Grassy, Johnson’s, East and West Bahia Honda, and several smaller keys in their vicinity.
Ramrod key is one and a half miles in length by one and a quarter miles in breadth. The outer shore is of coral rock. The key is covered with heavy mangrove, palmetto, sea-grape, and buttonwood. On the southeastern end is a lagoon three and a quarter miles long by a quarter mile wide. The depth of water in this lagoon is from five to fifteen inches. This key was marked by fourteen painted posts in parallel meridian, and also in quarter sections. The rocky portion of the key was marked by iron stakes two and a half feet long, driven into the rock four inches. These were marked with a cold chisel on one side, the letters M, MP, or P being painted on another side. On other parts of the key yellow pine posts, four feet long, were driven into the ground one and a half feet and protected by coral rocks piled around them. The posts were marked on one side with the letters U. S. C. S., and on the other side M, MP or P, with black paint.
Big Torch key, which lies next to Ramrod, is irregular in shape, and is divided into three separate keys by a channel one mile in length by one hundred and sixty-four yards wide, with a depth varying from six inches to three feet. The shore of Torch is rocky on the eastern and western sides. The northern and southern being extensive mud plats covered by the sea at high tide. This key is a formation of coral rock covered with a thin crust of marl about one inch in depth, and is thickly wooded with black mangrove, palmetto, sea-grape, and buttonwood. The key was marked by thirty posts of iron and yellow pine, designated as those on Ramrod key.
Little Torch key is separated from Big Torch by a channel two and a quarter miles in length by a quarter mile in breadth, with a depth of three feet. This key is three miles in length and a half mile in breadth. The soil and wood are like those of Big Torch key. Little Torch was marked by fif'teen posts of iron and yellow pine, similar to the section marks of Big Torch key.
Big Pine key, due east of Big and Little Torch, is of irregular shape. It is nine miles in length by three miles in breadth, comprises an area of thirteen square miles, and is covered with a heavy growth of yellow pine trees, varying in height from twenty-five to sixty feet. The eastern shore, extending from Big Pine station, is nearly opposite No Name station, is a white sandy beach, the remainder being of coral rock, with mud flats here and there. This key, as others, is covered with small rocks and with soil in some places from one to two inches in depth. The only feature claiming attention is the pine timber, the northern end being thickly wooded with mangrove and buttonwood. There is on the northwestern side a small lagoon, which is nearly dry at low water. This key was marked by fifty-five posts, yellow pine, with the letters U. S. G. S. on one side, and M, M P, or P on the other, with black paint.
No Name key, which lies due east of Big Pine, is three miles in length, and one and a half miles in breadth. This key is covered with a heavy growth of mangrove and palmetto. A grove of yellow pine trees, about a quarter mile square, extends into the middle of the key. The soil on No Name is similar in character to that of Big Pine key. No Name key was marked by seventeen posts of yellow pine, distinguished as those placed on Big Pine key.
Newfound harbor is a group of three small keys. The largest is of irregular shape, and is one and a quarter miles in length by a quarter mile in breadth in the middle, tapering at each end to two hundred and eighteen yards in breadth. Another is about two hundred and seventy-three yards in length by one hundred and sixty yards in breadth. The third, which nearly joins to Big Pine key, is about a half mile in length by one hundred and sixty-four yards in breadth. These keys are covered with mangrove and buttonwood, and were marked by five posts. There is a fine harbor on the inside of the keys for vessels drawing from four to ten feet. _
Little Pine key lies due north of Big Pine and No Name keys, 18 three miles in length by seven-eighths of a mile in breadth in the centre, the eastern and western ends being about two hundred and eighteen yards wide. This, like Big Pine key, is mostly covered with yellow pine trees, varying in height from twenty-five to fifty feet; the eastern and western ends are thickly covered with black mangrove and buttonwood. The soil is similar to that of Big Pine key. On this key fourteen posts of yellow pine were planted, and marked as those on the key last mentioned.
Pye’s Harbor key is a small mangrove key, and lies between Loggerhead and Newfound harbor. It is surrounded by extensive mud flats, covered with water at the lowest tides.
Annette key, due north of Big Pine, is one and a quarter miles in length by a half mile in breadth. The surface is covered with thick mangrove and buttonwood, and is marked by ten posts of yellow pine. There is a low fiat key adjoining, which is entirely covered by the sea at high tide, and is surrounded by extensive mud flats, bare at low water.
Big Spanish key is the most northwardly, covered with thick mangrove, and entirely overflowed at the lowest tides.
Little Spanish key, east of Big S anish, is about three-quarters of a mile in length by one-quarter o a mile in breadth. This key is also overgrown with mangrove, with extensive mud flats inside. The northern part of the key is nearly covered with water at high tide. This key was marked with two yellow pine posts.
Crawl key, northeast of Annette key, is very small, and covered with mangrove.
Howe’s key, which lies northwest of Big Pine, is thickly covered with black mangrove and buttonwood. The southeastern end is much cut up with lagoons, varying in depth from six to twenty inches, but nearly dry at low tide. This key was marked by fifteen posts of iron and yellow pine, and designated as others already described.
Mayo’s key, east of Annette key, is one mile in length by two hundred and seventy-three yards at the widest part. This key, like the others, is thickly overgrown with black mangrove, sea-grape, and buttonwood, and was marked by four yellow pine posts.
Johnson’s keys, three in number, lie due north of Little Pine key. Key No. 1 is seven-eighths of a mile in length by a quarter mile in breadth. Key No. 2 is about one mile in length by a half mile in breadth. Key No. 3 is six hundred and fifty-six yards in length, and one hundred yards in breadth. These keys are likewise covered with black mangrove, sea-grape, and a small quantity of buttonwood. The area was divided by eleven posts of yellow pine, and marked as those on other keys.
Flat key, northeast of Johnson’s keys, is one mile in length by a half mile in breadth, and is covered by the .sea at high tide. It is thickly overspread with mangrove and buttonwood. This key was marked with three yellow pine posts.
West Bahia Honda, one mile from Flat key, is a half mile in length by one-eighth of a mile in breadth. It is covered by the sea at high tide.
East Bahia Honda, two and a half miles east of Bahia Honda, is about one-half mile in length by one-third of a mile in breadth. This key is also thickly covered with heavy mangroves.
My season‘s work of four months covers an area of thirty-one square miles, and includes one hundred and ninety miles of shoreline. Mr. G. U. Mayo assisted me in the work part of the season, for which great credit is due him. The topography is comprised in three sheets, which will be deposited in the archives when inked. Operations were discontinued on the 3d of May. 18Téie schooner Agassiz was laid up in Baltimore, Md., on June 3,
5 .
I have the honor to be, very respectfully, your obedient servant,
C. T. IARDELLA, Sub-Assistant United States Coast Survey. Prof. A. D. Bacnn, Superintendent United States Coast Survey.
INDIAN KEY, May 4, 1857.
DEAR SIR: I have to report that,°in obedience to your instructions of November, I proceeded to Key Largo, Florida, on the 16th of January.
After putting down eighty section posts there for the land office, the Indian hostilities having increased, it was deemed imprudent to expose the party, which was without any means of defence. I proceeded to Point Charles, and continued the plane table work on the outside of Key Largo, and have completed all the key and the creeks as far as it was possible to go from the seaside, also the outside shoreline of Upper and Lower Matecumbe, which extends about four miles below Indian key.
I have surveyed about one hundred and twenty miles of coast and banks, and about five or six of interior, and put down eighty section posts. Most of the outside shore of Key Largo and all the keys are of coral rock, soft enough in places to force the posts down. Where this was impossible, I used iron stakes flattened at the top and marked with a chisel U. S. C. S. on one side, and M. or P. or M. P., as the case required, on the other. The wooden posts were marked with the same character in paint.
The soil on Key Largo from Point Charles, where my season’s work commenced, is superior to that of most of the other keys. This key, Upper and Lower Matecumbe, and Lignum-vitte, being the most fertile of any of the large keys. The growth on them is large and very prolific ; they are covered for some distance back from the water with a low growth of small trees and bushes, where the land is comparatively high, caused by the water making its deposit there, going towards the interior. The trees are large, but the ground swampy from the creeks, which pass through the higher land in small streams, and spread themselves over the key in numerous branches and ponds. The two Matecumbe keys are much more free of these than Key Largo. The upper one has one spring upon it and the lower five.
Key Rodrigues is overflowed at high tide, and Tavernier has some fast land on it, only on the northern end, which would probably be
overflowed at very high tide. The two small keys, Dove and Tea Table, have a very good soil on them, deep enough for almost any growth. If properly drained, they would be very profitable, having the best soil I have seen in Florida. Very respectfully, S. A. WAINWRIGHT. Prof. A. D. BACHE, Srfoerintende'nt U. S. Coast Survey.
Tuesday, July 1, 2014
Historical Tidbits from St. Augustine, FL
Today is the release of WINNING THE CAPTAIN'S HEART, the first in a three book series set in 1871 St. Augustine, FL. I love this old city. In fact, it is one of the oldest cities in the United States. There are spots in St. Augustine that still maintain their historical charm and it is well worth a visit if you're ever in the area.
Below I'm going to share with you some pictures I found from St. Augustine while researching the book:
1875 Fort Marion now known as Castillo de San Marcos but when my story is set it was called Fort Marion.
Here's a picture of the harbor in 1878
An old picture of the City Gates, note that they haven't repaired them at the time this picture was taken.
This is the historic district of St. Augustine that still looks pretty much the same, except that the street is no longer dirt. But the streets are still narrow like you see in this picture.
This series of photos all come from 1885, later than when my story is set but still a good example of the architecture.
Below I'm going to share with you some pictures I found from St. Augustine while researching the book:
1875 Fort Marion now known as Castillo de San Marcos but when my story is set it was called Fort Marion.
Here's a picture of the harbor in 1878
An old picture of the City Gates, note that they haven't repaired them at the time this picture was taken.
This is the historic district of St. Augustine that still looks pretty much the same, except that the street is no longer dirt. But the streets are still narrow like you see in this picture.
This series of photos all come from 1885, later than when my story is set but still a good example of the architecture.
Tuesday, May 27, 2014
Horses in Florida
While working on my St. Augustine Series (The first in the series Winning the Captain's Heart releases in July) I found this little tidbit about horses, that might be helpful to some of you as well.
Horses, when kept properly stabled out of the sun and dews, and fed and groomed as any good horse should be, thrive as well in Florida as in any other portion of the South. The principal drawback in keeping a horse in good condition, especially in the towns and cities of Middle and South Florida, is the sandy roads. Out in the little-traveled country and in the woods, the roads are well enough, and a horse can trot along as well as anywhere; but in the towns, where the roads are deeply cut up, it is very hard upon all draught-animals, and great care should be taken not to overload or overwork them. In particular, a good horse should not be intrusted to the care of a colored hostler or driver, if you care much for the horse. A mule is best adapted to a negro teamster; it being among the predestinate things of nature that negroes and mules should come together.
Sandy roads are the worst feature of life in Florida, and will be for many years, for there is no method of effectually improving them except at great expense. The roads in Northern Florida are free of sand, except in a very few localities, and are as good as any country roads in the whole country, and in some localities in the southern counties there are also good stretches of roads; but in the latter section generally they are sandy to a degree that it is more easy to resent than to describe. This prevents much carriage-riding or walking on the roads, and is the principal cause of the very little visiting among neighbors in the scattered settlements, where it is quite noticeable that the women seldom exchange visits, or indulge in " calls," as is the very popular custom among their Northern sisters.
But in those counties where the roads are sandiest are found the most numerous lakes; indeed, the whole region is a network of lakes, and the settlers' homes are generally bordering on or adjacent to a lake. These lake-side dwellers are sure to have a row-boat, and in such cases visits are more frequently interchanged among the accessible neighbors. Saddles, row-boats, steamers, and railroads will always be the principal methods of travel and intercommunication. Carriages for pleasure, or wagons for labor, will never be so common, or so necessary, as elsewhere.
In the case of horses, as in that of cows, the Northernraised animals, especially the fancy breeds, do not do well in Florida, particularly if any work is required of them. The Western horses would probably be found better adapted to the climate and other conditions, but they have not yet been introduced in any considerable numbers. The native horse is a small, bony, pot-bellied animal, very shabby-looking and destitute of "style," but capable of more work on a scantier supply of provender than any other creature with which I am acquainted, except a mule. The demand for horses in Florida at present much exceeds the supply, and the prices are consequently disproportionately high, and this is another department of stock-raising to which farmers should give more attention. Specimens that I have seen show that under proper care and treatment the native variety is capable of being made a very presentable as well as serviceable animal.
Source: Florida for Tourists, Invalids, and Settlers ©1884
Horses, when kept properly stabled out of the sun and dews, and fed and groomed as any good horse should be, thrive as well in Florida as in any other portion of the South. The principal drawback in keeping a horse in good condition, especially in the towns and cities of Middle and South Florida, is the sandy roads. Out in the little-traveled country and in the woods, the roads are well enough, and a horse can trot along as well as anywhere; but in the towns, where the roads are deeply cut up, it is very hard upon all draught-animals, and great care should be taken not to overload or overwork them. In particular, a good horse should not be intrusted to the care of a colored hostler or driver, if you care much for the horse. A mule is best adapted to a negro teamster; it being among the predestinate things of nature that negroes and mules should come together.
Sandy roads are the worst feature of life in Florida, and will be for many years, for there is no method of effectually improving them except at great expense. The roads in Northern Florida are free of sand, except in a very few localities, and are as good as any country roads in the whole country, and in some localities in the southern counties there are also good stretches of roads; but in the latter section generally they are sandy to a degree that it is more easy to resent than to describe. This prevents much carriage-riding or walking on the roads, and is the principal cause of the very little visiting among neighbors in the scattered settlements, where it is quite noticeable that the women seldom exchange visits, or indulge in " calls," as is the very popular custom among their Northern sisters.
But in those counties where the roads are sandiest are found the most numerous lakes; indeed, the whole region is a network of lakes, and the settlers' homes are generally bordering on or adjacent to a lake. These lake-side dwellers are sure to have a row-boat, and in such cases visits are more frequently interchanged among the accessible neighbors. Saddles, row-boats, steamers, and railroads will always be the principal methods of travel and intercommunication. Carriages for pleasure, or wagons for labor, will never be so common, or so necessary, as elsewhere.
In the case of horses, as in that of cows, the Northernraised animals, especially the fancy breeds, do not do well in Florida, particularly if any work is required of them. The Western horses would probably be found better adapted to the climate and other conditions, but they have not yet been introduced in any considerable numbers. The native horse is a small, bony, pot-bellied animal, very shabby-looking and destitute of "style," but capable of more work on a scantier supply of provender than any other creature with which I am acquainted, except a mule. The demand for horses in Florida at present much exceeds the supply, and the prices are consequently disproportionately high, and this is another department of stock-raising to which farmers should give more attention. Specimens that I have seen show that under proper care and treatment the native variety is capable of being made a very presentable as well as serviceable animal.
Source: Florida for Tourists, Invalids, and Settlers ©1884
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Florida and Cattle
When I first moved to Florida, 20 years ago, I learned the Florida produced more cattle than Texas, this is no longer the case but back then it was. So, I thought it might be fun to give a brief tidbit about Cattle from the 19th century perspective.
Cattle-raising has long been one of the principal and most profitable of all the many resources of Florida, and strange as it may appear, it is most extensively carried on in the extreme southern portion of the State. There is no doubt that Northern Florida is unexcelled for cattle-raising, although at present, and for many years past, it has been most extensive in the southern part, on the Gulf. Punta Rassa, at the extreme southern end of Charlotte Harbor, is the third port in the United States for cattle-shipments; and the vast savannas, or prairies, in that region, are grazed by thousands of heads. Cattle-herding is about the easiest occupation in the State, but it takes capital to start in it, and it requires time to develop it. As to the grade of cattle, it is the same as with the hogs—the native breeds are small and extremely unpromising in appearance; but, as in the case of hogs, this is all for lack of care and breeding, and where high-grade, blooded cattle are introduced, and are attended to with anything like the attention given by Northern stockmen, they do just as well as anywhere, and involve far less expense and labor.
It is often remarked as strange by the visitor to Florida, and is undoubtedly true, that in a State where cattle abound and may be kept almost for nothing, such a thing as fresh milk is almost unprocurable. In the remotest districts, canned milk brought from the North is constantly used; and in a herd of cattle numbering hundreds there is not a single milch-cow. This, however, is due to the "custom of the country," and not to any difficulty that is encountered in keeping good milch-cows in Florida. There as elsewhere, of course, they require attention, and can not be left to gather all their food in the woods and swamps, as is done with ordinary stock-cattle; but it has been proved in innumerable instances that cows properly fed and properly looked after will give milk as good in quality and as abundant in quantity as similar cows will give anywhere. This, however, is true only of cows that have become acclimated, and those of the choicer Northern and foreign breeds are not easily acclimated. The best and surest milch-cow is what is known as the Georgia cow—one brought from the neighboring State of Georgia; and next to these are the native cows that have been separated from the ordinary cattle while heifers, and treated as animals from whom milk is desired should be treated everywhere. I am inclined to think that there is nothing to which Florida farmers could more profitably give their attention than to the production of a good breed of milk-giving cows adapted to the peculiar local conditions.
Course: Florida for Tourists, Invalids, and Settlers ©1884
Cattle-raising has long been one of the principal and most profitable of all the many resources of Florida, and strange as it may appear, it is most extensively carried on in the extreme southern portion of the State. There is no doubt that Northern Florida is unexcelled for cattle-raising, although at present, and for many years past, it has been most extensive in the southern part, on the Gulf. Punta Rassa, at the extreme southern end of Charlotte Harbor, is the third port in the United States for cattle-shipments; and the vast savannas, or prairies, in that region, are grazed by thousands of heads. Cattle-herding is about the easiest occupation in the State, but it takes capital to start in it, and it requires time to develop it. As to the grade of cattle, it is the same as with the hogs—the native breeds are small and extremely unpromising in appearance; but, as in the case of hogs, this is all for lack of care and breeding, and where high-grade, blooded cattle are introduced, and are attended to with anything like the attention given by Northern stockmen, they do just as well as anywhere, and involve far less expense and labor.
It is often remarked as strange by the visitor to Florida, and is undoubtedly true, that in a State where cattle abound and may be kept almost for nothing, such a thing as fresh milk is almost unprocurable. In the remotest districts, canned milk brought from the North is constantly used; and in a herd of cattle numbering hundreds there is not a single milch-cow. This, however, is due to the "custom of the country," and not to any difficulty that is encountered in keeping good milch-cows in Florida. There as elsewhere, of course, they require attention, and can not be left to gather all their food in the woods and swamps, as is done with ordinary stock-cattle; but it has been proved in innumerable instances that cows properly fed and properly looked after will give milk as good in quality and as abundant in quantity as similar cows will give anywhere. This, however, is true only of cows that have become acclimated, and those of the choicer Northern and foreign breeds are not easily acclimated. The best and surest milch-cow is what is known as the Georgia cow—one brought from the neighboring State of Georgia; and next to these are the native cows that have been separated from the ordinary cattle while heifers, and treated as animals from whom milk is desired should be treated everywhere. I am inclined to think that there is nothing to which Florida farmers could more profitably give their attention than to the production of a good breed of milk-giving cows adapted to the peculiar local conditions.
Course: Florida for Tourists, Invalids, and Settlers ©1884
Saturday, May 17, 2014
St. Augustine, FL Interesting tidbits from 1890
While I was working on the 4th proposal in my St. Augustine Series, (the first novel "Winning the Captain's Heart" release date is July, 2014) I stumbled about these interesting tidbits and thought I'd share them for those working in the year of 1890
FOR READY REFERENCE.
RAILWAYS. Jacksonville, St. Augustine Si. Halifax River Railway, to Jacksonville; St. John.> Division, in Tocoi and river steamboats; Palatka Division, to Palatka. Union Depot on Malaga street; see map. Conveyance from depot to any part of town, 25 cents; baggage, 25 cents per piece. St. Augustine is. South Beach Railway, ferry from Central Wharf; hourly trains to South Beach.
HOTELS Alcazar, on the A lame la. Cordova, on the Alameda. Fiorida House, Treasury and St. Georgo streets. Magnolia. ?t. George street. Ponce de Leon, on the Alameda. San Marco, Shell Road, Plaza Hotel, f icin^ Plaza. Hcrnandex Hotel, Charlotte street. Boarding house — The Ingleside,
MAILS. Post office on St. George street, facing Plaza. Hours: Lock boxes, 6:30 A. M. to 8 P. M.; general delivery,
8 A. M. to 5:30 P. M. Money orders and registered letters, 8:30 to 12:33 and 1:30 to 3:30, J. D. Lopez, postmaster. Mail for guests delivered by hotel carriers. Mail time betwe-u St. Augustine and New York, 36 hours; Boston, 36 hours; Chicago, 75 hours. For arrival and departure of mails see schedule posted in office.
TELEGRAPH OFFICES. Bank building north side of Plaza, Hotel Ponce de Leon and Hotel San Marco. Rates for 10 words, Jacksonville, 25 cents, New York or Chicago, 85 cents.
EXPRESS. Southern Express Co.; office. Njs. 34 and 36 Alcazar, Cordova street, open 7 A. M. to 8 P. M.
BANKS. First National Bank, north side of Plaza. Hours, 9:30 A. M. to 2 P. M. St. John's County Savings Bank, Hotel Cordova. Hours, 9 A. M, to 3 P. M.
CHURCHES. Baptist—Ancient City Baptist, Masonic Hall, Opera House Block. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M. and 7:30 P. M., Sunday school at 9 A. M. Prayer meeting, Thursday at 7:30 P. M. Rev. H. M. King.
Episcopalian—Trinity Church, facing Plaza on the south. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M., 7 P. M. Sabbath school, 3:30 P. M. For other services sse bulletin on front of church. Rev. W. L. Githens.
Methodist—Grace Church, Cordova and Carrere streets. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M., 7 P. M. Sunday school,
9 A. M. Class meeting, 11:45 A. M. Young people's prayer meeting, 6:15 P. M. Wednesday, prayer meeting, 7 P. M. Rev. C. C. McLean; parsonage adjoining church.
Presbyterian-St. George street, near Bridge street. Services: Sabbath, 10:36 A. M., 7 P. M. Sunday school, 3 P. M. Wednesday, prayer meeting, 7 P. M. Rev. Edwin K. Mitchell; residence, St. George street, north of Magnolia Hotel. (A new church is now building).
Roman Catholic—Church facing Plaza on the north. Services: Sabbath, 6, 3 and 10 A. M . 4 P. M. Kt Rev. Bishop Moore, Rev. Father J. Lucke; residence, St. George street and Plaza.
Y. M. C. A.—Ward G. Foster, Pres.; G. M. Caldwell, Sccty. Rooms in Lyon I Hock, corner St. George street and Alameda. Sabbath, praise meeting, 4 to 5 P. M. Bible class, 7:30 P. M. Saturday. Rooms open daily 8 A. M. 10 9 P. M.
PHYSICIANS. Drs. K. M. Alba (Lyon Block), L. Alexander (St. George street), A. Anderson and F. F. Smith (Alcazar!, J. K. Rainey (St. George street!, Dc Witt Webb (St. George street), S. Mills Fowler (Granada street), C. A. Dunham (St George streel), Horace Lindslry (St. George street).
FORT MARION is open to the public from 9 to ia A. M., and 1 to 4 P. M. The hours have been changed since the chapter on Fort Marion was put in type.
BOATS. Small steam craft ply between wharves and beaches (trip 25 cents) and other points; and may be chartered for excursions. Sailing boats with skipper, 50 cents to $i per hour, $2 to $5 per day. Rowboats for hire by the hour or day.
OPERA HOUSE (Genovar's)—St. George street, between Treasury and Hypolita streets.
LIVERIES. Saddle horses and vehicle., with or without driver, are for hire.
PUBLIC LIBRARY. St. George street, in post office building. Hours, 10 A. M. to t P. M. (daily except Sunday and Thursday), and 3 to 5 P. M. Non-residents borrow books free of charge, on deposit of $2.
STUDIOS. Valencia street. Hotel Ponce dc Leon. No. 1, George W. Seavcy. No. 2, F. H. Shapleigh. No, 3. W. Staples Drown. No. 4, Rob:. S. Germain. No 7, M. J. Heade.
MUSEUMS. Vedder's (Bay street), living specimens of Florida natural history. Chapin's (near the fort), curiosities. The collections of the St. Augustine Institute of Natural Science, No. 33 Alcazar court, are open to the public daily from a to 5 P. M., admission free.
YACHT CLUB. St. Augustine Yacht Club; Com., E. A. Douglass, of New York. Clubhouse, S a-wall and Central Wharf.
DATES. Ponce de Leon discovers Florida. 151a. Mcnendez founds St. Augustine, t565. Drake, 1586 Boucauicrs, 1665. Moore of Carolina, 1700. Oglethorpe of Georgia, 1740. Florida becomes a British possession, 1763. Retroceded to Spain, 1783. Acquired by the United States, 1821, Seminole war, 1815-43.
Source: The Standard Guide for St. Augustine ©1890
FOR READY REFERENCE.
RAILWAYS. Jacksonville, St. Augustine Si. Halifax River Railway, to Jacksonville; St. John.> Division, in Tocoi and river steamboats; Palatka Division, to Palatka. Union Depot on Malaga street; see map. Conveyance from depot to any part of town, 25 cents; baggage, 25 cents per piece. St. Augustine is. South Beach Railway, ferry from Central Wharf; hourly trains to South Beach.
HOTELS Alcazar, on the A lame la. Cordova, on the Alameda. Fiorida House, Treasury and St. Georgo streets. Magnolia. ?t. George street. Ponce de Leon, on the Alameda. San Marco, Shell Road, Plaza Hotel, f icin^ Plaza. Hcrnandex Hotel, Charlotte street. Boarding house — The Ingleside,
MAILS. Post office on St. George street, facing Plaza. Hours: Lock boxes, 6:30 A. M. to 8 P. M.; general delivery,
8 A. M. to 5:30 P. M. Money orders and registered letters, 8:30 to 12:33 and 1:30 to 3:30, J. D. Lopez, postmaster. Mail for guests delivered by hotel carriers. Mail time betwe-u St. Augustine and New York, 36 hours; Boston, 36 hours; Chicago, 75 hours. For arrival and departure of mails see schedule posted in office.
TELEGRAPH OFFICES. Bank building north side of Plaza, Hotel Ponce de Leon and Hotel San Marco. Rates for 10 words, Jacksonville, 25 cents, New York or Chicago, 85 cents.
EXPRESS. Southern Express Co.; office. Njs. 34 and 36 Alcazar, Cordova street, open 7 A. M. to 8 P. M.
BANKS. First National Bank, north side of Plaza. Hours, 9:30 A. M. to 2 P. M. St. John's County Savings Bank, Hotel Cordova. Hours, 9 A. M, to 3 P. M.
CHURCHES. Baptist—Ancient City Baptist, Masonic Hall, Opera House Block. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M. and 7:30 P. M., Sunday school at 9 A. M. Prayer meeting, Thursday at 7:30 P. M. Rev. H. M. King.
Episcopalian—Trinity Church, facing Plaza on the south. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M., 7 P. M. Sabbath school, 3:30 P. M. For other services sse bulletin on front of church. Rev. W. L. Githens.
Methodist—Grace Church, Cordova and Carrere streets. Services: Sabbath, 10:30 A. M., 7 P. M. Sunday school,
9 A. M. Class meeting, 11:45 A. M. Young people's prayer meeting, 6:15 P. M. Wednesday, prayer meeting, 7 P. M. Rev. C. C. McLean; parsonage adjoining church.
Presbyterian-St. George street, near Bridge street. Services: Sabbath, 10:36 A. M., 7 P. M. Sunday school, 3 P. M. Wednesday, prayer meeting, 7 P. M. Rev. Edwin K. Mitchell; residence, St. George street, north of Magnolia Hotel. (A new church is now building).
Roman Catholic—Church facing Plaza on the north. Services: Sabbath, 6, 3 and 10 A. M . 4 P. M. Kt Rev. Bishop Moore, Rev. Father J. Lucke; residence, St. George street and Plaza.
Y. M. C. A.—Ward G. Foster, Pres.; G. M. Caldwell, Sccty. Rooms in Lyon I Hock, corner St. George street and Alameda. Sabbath, praise meeting, 4 to 5 P. M. Bible class, 7:30 P. M. Saturday. Rooms open daily 8 A. M. 10 9 P. M.
PHYSICIANS. Drs. K. M. Alba (Lyon Block), L. Alexander (St. George street), A. Anderson and F. F. Smith (Alcazar!, J. K. Rainey (St. George street!, Dc Witt Webb (St. George street), S. Mills Fowler (Granada street), C. A. Dunham (St George streel), Horace Lindslry (St. George street).
FORT MARION is open to the public from 9 to ia A. M., and 1 to 4 P. M. The hours have been changed since the chapter on Fort Marion was put in type.
BOATS. Small steam craft ply between wharves and beaches (trip 25 cents) and other points; and may be chartered for excursions. Sailing boats with skipper, 50 cents to $i per hour, $2 to $5 per day. Rowboats for hire by the hour or day.
OPERA HOUSE (Genovar's)—St. George street, between Treasury and Hypolita streets.
LIVERIES. Saddle horses and vehicle., with or without driver, are for hire.
PUBLIC LIBRARY. St. George street, in post office building. Hours, 10 A. M. to t P. M. (daily except Sunday and Thursday), and 3 to 5 P. M. Non-residents borrow books free of charge, on deposit of $2.
STUDIOS. Valencia street. Hotel Ponce dc Leon. No. 1, George W. Seavcy. No. 2, F. H. Shapleigh. No, 3. W. Staples Drown. No. 4, Rob:. S. Germain. No 7, M. J. Heade.
MUSEUMS. Vedder's (Bay street), living specimens of Florida natural history. Chapin's (near the fort), curiosities. The collections of the St. Augustine Institute of Natural Science, No. 33 Alcazar court, are open to the public daily from a to 5 P. M., admission free.
YACHT CLUB. St. Augustine Yacht Club; Com., E. A. Douglass, of New York. Clubhouse, S a-wall and Central Wharf.
DATES. Ponce de Leon discovers Florida. 151a. Mcnendez founds St. Augustine, t565. Drake, 1586 Boucauicrs, 1665. Moore of Carolina, 1700. Oglethorpe of Georgia, 1740. Florida becomes a British possession, 1763. Retroceded to Spain, 1783. Acquired by the United States, 1821, Seminole war, 1815-43.
Source: The Standard Guide for St. Augustine ©1890
Thursday, May 8, 2014
Daytona Beach
So, I've been on a Leadership Retreat with my husband in Daytona Beach and I thought I'd share with you a historical description of Daytona Beach that is quite different from how the area looks today. This article was posted in the Atlantic Monthly 1894 and you can read the rest of it here.
ON THE BEACH AT DAYTONA.
Tun first eight days of my stay in Daytona were so delightful that I felt as if I had never before seen fine weather, even in my dreams. My east window looked across the Halifax River to the peninsula woods. Beyond them was the ocean. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, I made toward the north bridge, and in half an hour or less was on the beach. Beaches are much the same the world over, and there is no need to describe this one — Silver Beach, I think I heard it called—except to say that it is broad, hard, and, for a pleasure-seeker’s purpose, endless. It is backed by low sand-hills covered with impenetrable scrub, — oak and palmetto, —beyond which is a dense growth of short-leaved pines. Perfect weather, a perfect beach, and no throng of people: here were the conditions of happiness; and here for eight days I found it. The ocean itself was a solitude. Day after day not a sail was in sight. Looking up and down the beach, I could usually see somewhere in the distance a carriage or two, and as many foot passengers; but I
often walked a mile, or sat for half an hour, without being within hail of any one. Never were airs more gentle or colors more exquisite.
As for birds, they were surprisingly scarce, but never wanting altogether. If everything else failed, a few fish-hawks were sure to be in sight. I watched them at first with eager interest. Up and down the beach they went, each by himself, with heads pointed downward, scanning the shallow water. Often they stopped in their course, and by means of laborious flappings held themselves poised over a certain spot. Then, perhaps, they set their wings and shot downward clean under water. If the plunge was unsuccessful, they shook their feathers dry and were ready to begin again. They had the fisherman’s gift. The second, and even the third attempt might fail, but no matter ; it was simply a question of time and patience. If the fish was caught, their first concern seemed to be to shift their hold upon it, till its head pointed to the front. That done, they shook themselves vigorously and started landward, the shining white victim wriggling vainly in the clutch of the talons. Itook it for granted that they retired with their quarry to some secluded spot on the peninsula, till one day I happened to be standing upon a sand-hill as one passed overhead. Then I perceived that he kept on straight across the peninsula and the river. More than once, however, I saw one of them in no haste to go inland. On my second visit, a hawk came circling about my head, carrying a fish. I was surprised at the action, but gave it no second thought, nor once imagined that he was making me his protector, till suddenly a large bird dropped rather awkwardly upon the sand, not far before me. He stood for an instant on his long, ungainly legs, and then, showing a white head and a white tail, rose with a fish in his talons, and swept away landward out of sight. Here was the osprey’s parasite, the bald eagle, for which [had been on the watch. Meantime, the hawk too had disappeared. Whether it was his fish which the eagle had picked up (having missed it in the air) I cannot say. I did not see it fall, and knew nothing of the eagle’s presence until he fluttered to the beach.
Some days later, I saw the big thief - emblem of American liberty — play his sharp game to the finish. I was crossing the bridge, and by accident turned and looked upward. (By accident, I say, but I was always doing it.) High in the air were two birds, one chasing the other, —a fish-hawk and a young eagle with dark head and tail. The hawk meant to save his dinner if he could. Round and round he went, ascending at every turn, his pursuer after him hotly. For nnght I could see, he stood a good chance of escape, till all at once another pair of wings swept into the field of my glass. “A third is in the race! I‘Vho is the third,
Speeding away swift as the eagle bird ? ”
It was an eagle, an adult, with head and tail white. Only once more the osprey circled. The odds were against him, and
he let go the fish. As it fell, the old eagle swooped after it, missed it, swooped again, and this time, long before it could reach the water, had it fast in his claws. Then off he went, the younger one after him. They passed out of sight behind the trees of an island, one close upon the other, and I do not know how the controversy ended; but I would have wagered a trifle on the old white-head, the bird of Washington.
ON THE BEACH AT DAYTONA.
Tun first eight days of my stay in Daytona were so delightful that I felt as if I had never before seen fine weather, even in my dreams. My east window looked across the Halifax River to the peninsula woods. Beyond them was the ocean. Immediately after breakfast, therefore, I made toward the north bridge, and in half an hour or less was on the beach. Beaches are much the same the world over, and there is no need to describe this one — Silver Beach, I think I heard it called—except to say that it is broad, hard, and, for a pleasure-seeker’s purpose, endless. It is backed by low sand-hills covered with impenetrable scrub, — oak and palmetto, —beyond which is a dense growth of short-leaved pines. Perfect weather, a perfect beach, and no throng of people: here were the conditions of happiness; and here for eight days I found it. The ocean itself was a solitude. Day after day not a sail was in sight. Looking up and down the beach, I could usually see somewhere in the distance a carriage or two, and as many foot passengers; but I
often walked a mile, or sat for half an hour, without being within hail of any one. Never were airs more gentle or colors more exquisite.
As for birds, they were surprisingly scarce, but never wanting altogether. If everything else failed, a few fish-hawks were sure to be in sight. I watched them at first with eager interest. Up and down the beach they went, each by himself, with heads pointed downward, scanning the shallow water. Often they stopped in their course, and by means of laborious flappings held themselves poised over a certain spot. Then, perhaps, they set their wings and shot downward clean under water. If the plunge was unsuccessful, they shook their feathers dry and were ready to begin again. They had the fisherman’s gift. The second, and even the third attempt might fail, but no matter ; it was simply a question of time and patience. If the fish was caught, their first concern seemed to be to shift their hold upon it, till its head pointed to the front. That done, they shook themselves vigorously and started landward, the shining white victim wriggling vainly in the clutch of the talons. Itook it for granted that they retired with their quarry to some secluded spot on the peninsula, till one day I happened to be standing upon a sand-hill as one passed overhead. Then I perceived that he kept on straight across the peninsula and the river. More than once, however, I saw one of them in no haste to go inland. On my second visit, a hawk came circling about my head, carrying a fish. I was surprised at the action, but gave it no second thought, nor once imagined that he was making me his protector, till suddenly a large bird dropped rather awkwardly upon the sand, not far before me. He stood for an instant on his long, ungainly legs, and then, showing a white head and a white tail, rose with a fish in his talons, and swept away landward out of sight. Here was the osprey’s parasite, the bald eagle, for which [had been on the watch. Meantime, the hawk too had disappeared. Whether it was his fish which the eagle had picked up (having missed it in the air) I cannot say. I did not see it fall, and knew nothing of the eagle’s presence until he fluttered to the beach.
Some days later, I saw the big thief - emblem of American liberty — play his sharp game to the finish. I was crossing the bridge, and by accident turned and looked upward. (By accident, I say, but I was always doing it.) High in the air were two birds, one chasing the other, —a fish-hawk and a young eagle with dark head and tail. The hawk meant to save his dinner if he could. Round and round he went, ascending at every turn, his pursuer after him hotly. For nnght I could see, he stood a good chance of escape, till all at once another pair of wings swept into the field of my glass. “A third is in the race! I‘Vho is the third,
Speeding away swift as the eagle bird ? ”
It was an eagle, an adult, with head and tail white. Only once more the osprey circled. The odds were against him, and
he let go the fish. As it fell, the old eagle swooped after it, missed it, swooped again, and this time, long before it could reach the water, had it fast in his claws. Then off he went, the younger one after him. They passed out of sight behind the trees of an island, one close upon the other, and I do not know how the controversy ended; but I would have wagered a trifle on the old white-head, the bird of Washington.
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