The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1883-12-29
THE LAND OF FLOWERS.
An Indiana Girl in F~lorida-The Hazy Lazi-
ness of st. Augustine.
To the Editor OF the indianapolis Journau

To the Editor OF the Indianapolis Journal
There are two interesting particulars In
which l can safely saw Florida ~disappoints
me, viz, alligators and high prices. Tn for
mer are more Enthusiastically hideous than [
had anticipated; the latter are uniform and
untaillng. The land of flowers may bloom
and smile" in the spring time; it is not one
mass of blossoms now, for it is winter. From
Atlanta to Charleston, viewing the country
from the car window, there were no flourish
ing plantations, no barns, haystacks or corn
cribs; nothing but cotton, darkies and pine
trees. The drouth has nearly ruined the
cotton, and darkies and pine trees, as a reg
gular thing, are neither cheerful nor regarded
as the latest signs OF civilization in a land
scape. At Charleston there was decayed
magniicence, with the beautiful ivy every
where, and historic war-encircled Sumter.
Between Charleston and Savannah the same
sWamps, pine trees and saw-grass, and saw
grass, pine trees and swamps with the trail
of the gray moss over it all. At Jackson
s~onville we entered the Gate of Florida"
and it was there we first felt the influence of
this dreamy tropical cline. AS sat at my
window overlooking the broad st. John,
with the hazy, sunny sky above, the gleam-
ing river beneath, stretching away to the sea,
and the little sails flying before the breeze, l
felt the Florida dream come over me. The
sand may be a foot deep, which it is; the sky
may not be as blue as at home; alligators
may be indigenous and legion; still it is the
only Florida in the world and-charming.
From Jacksonville We came to st. Angus
tine, on the oldest little train, with cane
seats, straight through the pine forest. Dur
ing the entire ride OF two hour we saw but
one station, and that might have been passed
unheeded, but that there was a board nailed
high on a tree, ornamented by a rural and
unskilled artist with the suggestive word,
"Greenville." The only sign of life was q
funny little mule, hitched to a small cart,
with a funny darkey driver, meandering
along a sandy road in the heart of the pine
forest.
st. Augustine is like nothing but itself
ancient and foreign. The first evening we
were here l walked out alone. AS [ strolled
along the narrow streets, l could not help
feeling eerie, as though l had made a mistake
and got into some private way, danger
Gus passage, or alley, and might have an adj
venture. l wandered down by the old sea
wall, and gazed out to see where the waves
come rolling up on North beach, at the en-
trance to the bay. The lighthouse light
shone ont in the gathering dusk. and the
grim old castle of San Marco, now Fort Ma
rion, frowned with a mysterious air of secrets
and history. AS | turned from the low sea
wall, I saw the evening star between the
pointed leaves of a tall date palm, and felt
so far away.
'The light was fading down the sky,
The shadows grew and multiplied
And st. Augustine Of 200 years ago seemed
to invest the more modern town.
In the olden times the more aris-
tocratic streets were not used for
the passage of vehicles. They were paved
quite across from house to house, with CO.
quina, a queer kind of stone made of shells,
and kept so clean that the Spanish ladies
trailed their elegant dresses in the n ri
the f6&effhig'@nothing more. Nor do thew
even pursue this occupation in any sort of
vigorous energetic fashion. They seem to
be aware that the world could wag and will,
without any assistance. The energetic trav-
elers, the fashionable dawdlers have not vet
come IN numbers. The season is not begun.
Inc days are long and dreamy and the cathe-
oral bells, striking the hour, have a harsh.
personal twang, as why should not bells 200
years old, grow querulous with age?
There was a ripple upon the surface of tho
polty OF the hotel the other day by the ar
rival OF a real, live earl and countess. The
earl was insignificant, had red hair, and not
much of that. The countess was yerv fall
and large, had rosy cheeks and brown ewes
and n stride like that of an army officer. The
sights here are the "%plaza." a commonplace
little park, the old slave market, the sea-wall
the favorite promenade, the old Spanish fort
the city gates and the old cathedral. The
old cathedral is about 200 years old and so is
the fort. There is a tradition that thew were
connected by an underground pas
sage a half a mile long, but no one seems to
have taken the trouble to find whether it be
true or not.
There are dreadful stories of Spanish cruelty
at the tort which the wheezy old sergeant re-
lates as he shows visitors about the cavern
ous. old bomb-proof easements, and into the
famous dungeon. said to have contained two
ron cages with human bones in them when
discovered, fifty years ago. The Spaniards
were so cruel that nothing seems too bad to
De true. There are a great many hourishing
orange groves about here, and we visited one
place where there is an avenue composed en-
lrely OF oleanders, white on one side and
ed on the other. 1t is said that when thev
bloom, in March, it is a rare sight. There
ire a great many winter homes of Northern
here. Pierre Lorillard has a very
'retty place, a square away. There are two
houses being built of the coouina
tone, which are very odd and picturesque.
With their broad, low windows. galleried
curt and elass-inclosed balconies. One can {
what a restful retreat a home here
aust be to the gay New Yorker who, world
lred, longs for quiet and sunny skies.
ST. AUGUSTINE. Fla. Ell :