The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1893-07-10
An OLD PLANTATION
Where Sugar Was Produced In Alum
dance Long AGO.

Condltlon-Some Reflections Caused
by Visit to It's Neglected Houses
And a Ride Across It's Broad Acres.
St. Augustine, Fla, July 81 would
not tell it in South Florida, where men
credit Disston, the wouder-worker, with
the proud monopoly Of muck. 1 would not
breathe it on the arid sand hills of the pc
ninsula, where misguided enthusiasts too
often scratch the back of nature in vain,
but have this day seen a strange thing,
not in st. Augustine indeed, but scarcely
two miles from what little remains of its
historic gates.
The St. Augustine, through whose de-
serted streets the casual caller walks, is
not, il should be said, the St. Augustine
OF February, dear to tlaneur and tourist,
and gay with the frOu frou of smart
gowns, the glitter of diamonds, the art
less chatter of well-bred men and women,
who have nothing to do, and do
it remarkably we'll, The St. Augustine of
July is distinctly deplOrably dull; the tour
ist is no longer here, the fair one of the
golden locks the girl of the period and her
periodical attendant, have all departed
and are now disporting gaily on far-off
northern beaches or exploring the cool Ta-
vines of distant mountains. So COM
pletely, in fact, has the little tOwn-and
it is one sui generis in its way-paid the
penalty Of butterfly and abbreviated
existence, that even the natives are catch
ing the infection and fleeing from the heats
TO come.
ST. AUGUSTINE AS SUMMER RESORT.
In spite of all this the town is not with
out its charm as a summer resort; the
sea-wall is still a pleasant promenade;
find the cool green of Anastasia Islands
low shore as inviting as ever to the eye,
the leadcn-lOolIing pillows in the broad
Matanzas tumble as wantOnly as of yorc,
and the contrast between the narrow pas
sages OF the old town and the splendid
s0lidity Of the streets squares and hotels
that comprise what ] once heard an I'M
godly spirit call ''Flaglerville''-all this
can never be other than agreeable. But
it is not fashionable. There is nobody TO
talk tor about, which is worse, and l
confess l was finding it rather dull, when
a friend came to my relief
you look '-said the good Samaritan -
''you look uncommonlv bored. Jump into
my buggy, have my gun along. We viii
go into the country. We win eat lunch
in pretty place two miles out. We may
kill bear and shall certainly kill time"
ON THE ROAD.
I smiled | can stand a good deal-but
bear and in July-out of cage within
two miles of St. Augustine, this was var
niShing the pleasing picture somewhat
too heavily But anything is better than
nothing. We tumbled into the buggy and
were Off out King street. past the stately
COrdO va, the frivolous looking facade of
the Alcazar and the picturesque Conglom-
GRAFTON grouped together beneath the red
tiles of the Ponce de Leon. We ratified
over the long bridge beneath which the
swollen ST. Sebastian pOurs its turbid
flood between its deep green margin of
rushes, and struck the country, the glare
and the sand.
1t was hot and l said so. ''Where are
you taking me, and wherefore2''
"To see an old plantation. 1t is unique.
II has paid nobody for many years,
but it will pay You to see it"
He was right We reached the gate,
we climbed it, we entered in upon deep
tropical Jungle of live and water oaks,
with wide and sheltering arms, of Grape
myrtle, of oleander and red cedar, and
interviewer vine aud creeper, for
which the arid zone of stunted spruce
pine, through which we had just passed,
was the poorest of preparations.
THE CRosLEY PLACE.
1t was an ancient sugar plantation long
since abandoned, long wrecked by war,
devasted by rustic foragers, pillaged by
vagabonds, but now happily enclosed by a
stout wire fence and known to "a prosaic
age as 1.-The Crosley place" Here, be-
meath the spreading oaks, lay the scat
tered dust of the old mansion; there the
traces of what was once the oyerseer's
house; not far away once stood the negro
quarter" and near it, in an humble
burying ground that the lapse of years
has long since leveled, lie the homes of
the slaves, who once t0iled in these fertile
hammocks, beneath this blazing sun.
1t was not much, but it was enough
we parted the pendent bOughs of the low
growing cedar and juniper, the dead
leaves stirred beneath our feet, the trail
ing moss swung heavily on the hot air
and We remembered Remembered that
this place, now silent and deserted. rang
with the noise of labor and the innocent
traffic OF the plough; that 300
men and women had once titled
these broad acres, that for nearly a
century the fairness Of the black soil had
declared itself in sugar and mOlasses, and
that-above all--it lay there to-day, neg
lected and waste, but two miles as the
crow flies from the modern magniiicence
of the Ponce de Leon. Never has the
flavor of the past more effectually assailed
me-never have | seen a contrast more
striking than that between the city be
hind us and the domain of the dead and
gone before us.
INSPECTION OF THE PLANTATION.
As I afterward learned-for l rode it's
entire length-the plantation is nearly
three miles long and about half a mile
in width. It's entire length is trayersed
by two great bitches, which are connected
by laterals. Across these waterways
stretch well-madC turnpilzcs, and nothing
more emphatically attests the immense
amount of labor expended here than the
manner in which this work has withstood
the ravages Of time One of
these artificial roadways took us across
the plantation, another brought US
back. 1t was not a long walk,
neither was it an easy one. In that rich
sofia heavy marl-nature soon works
wonders; the bitches were choked with
the rankest growths, which more than
once encroached upon the road-bed the
heavy rains had beaten the way into a
tenacious muck, troacherOus pools con
fronted us, briers branded us, the white
blossoms Of the red bay-the mahogonyof
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