The Indianapolis sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1880-1904, 1885-01-11
PENSACOLA.
A Quaint Old Florida Town and
HarbOr-
[Hsrper's weekly.l


[Harper's weekly.l
liz the southern tourist will leave the
beaten track of travel at Mobile, and go
BY steamer 10 Pensacola, he will enjoy a
very pleasant break in the monotony of
railroading. Mobile and its bay are full
of historic landmarks, and when the
steamer leaves Fort Morgan and heads
to sea for the short run down the coast.
there is much that is Of interest in the
marine landscape.
The approach to Pensacola, as the
Mary Morgan runs in, is of every vary
ing beauty. Long lines of sandy beach
and dark woodland point in conyerging
lines to the distant harbor. Closer in is
the tall lighthouse pointing inger-like
heavenward, with a background of dark
trees and peepiDg cottages, below which
runs, like a ribbon of satin, the snow
long ocean swell ceases, and We are pass
ing the forts. On the left are the ruins
of Fort McRae, now only a few massive
arches of tough masonry lettering amid
the surges ripping under their gloomy
shadows, while opposite is Fort Pickens,
| gray, straight-faced, and sturdy, crouch
ing as it were, on the lands end of his
toric Santa Rosa island. In spite of its
battle record it looks quite modern, with
the great guns gazing vigilantly out to
sea. In the distance the remains of
Fort Barsncss lie sleeping with the
memories of General Jackson and the
Spanish commandment who blew ii up at
the capture of the place by the American
army In 1912.
As we enter the harbor we find it land
locked and of immense magnitude, its
further shores appearing as if on the
horizon. 1t is a sheker for the nsvies of
the world.
To the left appears the town, fronted
by the massive buildings of the navy
| yard, the great derricks holding aioft
boilers for expectant hulls- The size of
the place can only be guessed at from
the steamers deck by house roofs and
| distant spires.
The lower part of the town has an es-
sentially nautical flavor. The sandy
streets are filled with a motley crowd of
mariners. The talk is of ships and
cargoes, and the bell of the Norwegian
chapel, nesting almost under the yard
arms of the ships at dock, mingles with
the forecastle bells striking the hour,
tolled maybe by some ancient quarter
master of a sexton; and strangely out of
| place seems a b~ack-country ox-cart,
whose great, broad wooden-tired wheels
and crates of "cronies," or land turtles.
rolls silently over the sand.
The wharves are immense structures,
thickly laced with car tracks, walled in
by masses of closely packed shipping,
whose i~nterlocked spars and masts are as
a forest through which a road is cut out.
Here the smaller iron steamers, those
ocean tramps," nestle beside the great
three.masters TO secure a share of the
vast forests of lumber annually exported,
which by train loads continually pour
on the docks.
Out on the broad harbor are fleets of
vessels clustered about great timber
RATS, which have been hoated out to
them, and from which their gaping holds
are being rapidly filled. Tugs are tow
ing out RATS to vessels further distant.
Here are two just spreading their wings
to sail. There is on. just arrived and
dropping anchor, and in the Ofing more
are Inward bound. 1t is an animated
scene rendered doubly delightful by a
balmy air, a cloudless sky, and the odors
of pine freshly cut