WE have been sailing near land since we left Tampa Bay, but now we are in water sixty fathoms deep, and past wading or swimming out, let what will happen to us. We leave Ten Thousand Islands and Cape Roman without landing, as they are uninhabited, and so lonely it seems God alone visits them. A night on the water alone with God and the stars, who can describe it? The sun has left his sentinel, Venus, soon to descend, with her evening charms, after delighting her admirers only a short while. The atmosphere at sea being so pure, this planet looks as though it had silver steps leading to its portals, upon which fancy might climb without wings, or the Muses catch inspiration without effort. What a grand sight to watch those far-off worlds, as they silently rise before our unobstructed vision, gemming the canopy of heaven with their grand glories for a few hours, and then retiring, while others take their places to dispel the darkness with their continuous rays!

We read of golden waves, and silver waves, but phosphorescent waves exceed all. When the salt-waters of the Gulf are much agitated, and the vessel plows the “breaking foam,” it appears surrounded with a sea of most brilliantly-lighted waves, extending far as the agitation reaches. The lead and line, when dropped in the water, is followed by a flash resembling electricity from the clouds. The luminous particles which compose this light are found floating in the water when it is dipped up in buckets, and adheres to the sides of any vessel in which the water is placed. It is produced from a species of animalcule called arethusa plegica, and when collected in large masses resembles flashes from an electric body, or balls of fire. Sailors regard the passing of these lights under the hull as ominous of adverse winds, and danger of being swamped from heavy seas. We are nearing Sand Key Light, seven miles from Key West, and sixty from Cape Sable. From Punta Rassa to this place nothing breaks the monotony of our movements but the sea-monsters darting under and around our vessel—sometimes a whale, spouting water; a dolphin, playing hide and seek with his companions—all enjoying the freedom of their native element near the surface, as though the great luminary and smooth waters had charms for these voiceless denizens of the deep as well as ourselves.

Here we see the Southern Cross just above the horizon, although many suppose it visible only south of the equator. The principal stars composing it are very bright and unmistakable as the constellation of Ursa Major. The coral formations in these waters are what make sailing dangerous and shipwrecks frequent. Many a vessel in sight of port, with golden prospects before them when they should anchor in the harbor, and reap a rich reward for their toil, has sunk or stranded here, and then been robbed by men unsympathizing as Hottentots. The early records of Key West say that it was inhabited by a different tribe of Indians from those on the mainland, in evidence of which human bones of a larger size than those belonging to the present race of red men have been discovered here in ancient fortifications and mounds. The Indians living on these islands and along the coast visited the mainland for the purpose of hunting, when a dispute arose between them, which resulted in war. The Indians on the mainland, being the most numerous, pursued those from the islands, until they were obliged to take refuge on Key West. Here they were compelled to make a stand, where they had a battle which nearly exterminated them—a few only escaping to Cuba in boats, and it is said were seen there during the early settlement of the island. As the conquerors did not remain to bury their enemies, the ground was strewn with bones; hence the Spanish name Cayo Hueso, rendered by the Americans Key West. It is called the “Gem of the Sea,” and distant from Cuba ninety-seven miles—latitude, 24° 32´ north.

The lands are of coral formation, consequently very sterile, although presenting a verdant appearance, caused by artificial fertilizers. Tropical fruits grow the entire year without interruption. Here we find the sugar-apple, alligator-pear, sapodilla-guava, limes, lemons, tamarinds, bananas, and plantain—the cocoa-nut tree, with her tessellated leaves, fanned by the breath of eternal spring-time, and ripening its refreshing fruits to nourish the thirsty residents, who would languish were they not supplied with the juices from fruits. The cocoa sheds its fruit when ripe, endangering the heads of those passing. Parents having children who play under the trees are constantly uneasy, as a full-grown cocoa-nut, falling forty feet, would nearly annihilate a child. They are gathered by means of long poles, attached to the end of which is an iron hook—sometimes with ladders and ropes.

To a person who has never visited this island it is almost impossible to imagine that only sixty-five miles from the mainland of Florida is a city so nearly in appearance resembling the Spanish dominions of the Old World—where hardly a sentence of English is heard, business transactions conducted in a foreign language, produce bought and sold, together with fruits from the adjacent islands cried in Spanish by the auctioneers. The wharf is a busy place. Here are vessels from various ports, with the ensigns of different nationalities—schooners, ships, and steamers, carrying from ten tons to many thousand, loaded principally with provisions and lumber.

The chief of the Seminoles is among the traders, from his Everglade home, inhabited by the deer, which leaves its “delicate foot-prints” on the margin of the streams, or the “slow-paced bear,” which drinks and then leaps across the lagoons in search of prey, or to be captured by his savage enemies. Tiger Tail has come to market with sweet potatoes, pumpkins, cabbages, venison, honey, and buckskins. The honey is in one of nature’s own receptacles—a deer skin, taken from the animal whole, one of the fore-legs being used as a mouth for this natural bottle, containing the captured sweets. He does not cultivate the soil in person. His wives, together with his two negro women, who have never heard of the “Emancipation Act,” raise the vegetables, while he and his warriors engage in combat with the untamed beasts that roam in their native wilds, or wage destruction upon the finny inhabitants of the dark, sluggish waters.

The population of Key West numbers seven or eight thousand. The streets indicate a populous place—the number of inhabitants having been greatly increased since the insurrectionary movements in Cuba. Cleanliness is a prevailing characteristic of the streets, there being no deposits of dÉbris permitted. As there are few vehicles, and no sidewalks, pedestrians use the center of the street for promenading. The ladies do not wear covering for their heads, except a few, who use thin black lace veils: all wear their dresses trailing a long distance behind them, presenting a most dolce far niente appearance walking about in the golden sunlight, fearless of its burning rays as the eagle which gazes upon its dazzling splendors. Many new houses are in process of erection upon the island, and the march of improvement is making rapid strides among the vacant lots. The architectural style of these buildings is adapted only to the necessities of a tropical clime—a shelter from the heat and rain. They have no chimneys, consequently no bright, cheerful firesides, with their fanciful shapes described in the curling smoke, leaping flames, or expiring coals, about which poets love to write and dream. Conchs were the original English settlers of this place, who came here from New Providence and the adjacent islands of the Bahama group. “Conch” is not, as many suppose, a term of contempt, but a local distinction. When the first regiment of colonial militia was organized at Nassau, they adopted the figure of a coach-shell in gold, with a blue field, for their regimental colors, thereby declaring the protection of their natural position; from this the term is applied more particularly to those from that city. They are a temperate, frugal, industrious class of persons, accustomed for generations to procuring a living from the sea; but many of them on this island have turned their talents in other directions, controlling a large part of the commercial business of the place. The greater portion of them are engaged in wrecking, sponging, or fishing for the Havana market, many owning fine vessels, and being men of respectability, although belonging to those classes whose names, to one not acquainted with them, appear an equivalent to buccaneers or pirates.

Wrecking was conducted for many years at Key West in a most ungenerous manner, with the old adage, “Freight is the mother of wages.” Wholesome laws have since been enacted for the protection of the unfortunate owners who are stranded; also for compensation of wreckers who come to the rescue. Many of these accidents occurred from preconcerted action between the sailing-master and the wreckers, or carelessness in crossing the reefs, together with the changing currents. Now, a forfeiture of license for frauds in accounting for goods, embezzling, or bad sailing, has produced a stringency which precludes dishonesty.

The United States District Court for the Southern District of Florida holds its sessions here, and is constantly open for the adjudication of cases in Admiralty. Scarcely a week passes but its services are called for in deciding the claims of some salvor against property which has been rescued from peril. Over seven hundred cases in Admiralty have been heard and decided within the last year. Judge Locke, who wears the ermine gracefully, is the presiding official in these courts, dealing out justice according to the judicial requirements of the applicants.

The International Telegraph has its principal head-quarters at this point. Among the many facilities for the union of interests, and the transmission of news, this route is considered the most important. The survey was commenced from Jacksonville to Miami, from Miami to Key West, inside of the reef; afterward from Gainesville to Cape Roman found the route to Punta Rassa the best, following far as known the Washington meridian. The cable from Havana to Punta Rassa via Kev West was laid in August and September, 1867. In 1869 a second was laid. During May, 1871, one of the working cables failed between Key West and Havana. In attempting to pick up the end in five hundred fathoms of water, they caught the working cable and broke it, after which the International Company had a dispatch-steamer running regularly, carrying messages to and from Havana. Several efforts have been made to pick up and repair the broken cable, spending over $150,000 without success. A new cable now, however, obviates all difficulties. This connects the United States with Cuba, running to all the West India Islands. There are also other cables laid along the south coast, by which means the United States Government communicates with its vessels of war and consular agents in the West Indies, also Spain and the colonies. The “Conchs” heretofore have not been interested in general education; but recently a desire for the knowledge of something besides reefs, keys, sponges, and turtles, has rapidly increased, while general intelligence and “book-learning” are now considered as among the essential requisites. The public-school system has been introduced with excellent results, and two flourishing schools are continued for ten months each year, where the common and higher English branches are taught, and Latin. There are other schools of lower grades, besides several private schools, and the Sisters of Mary and Joseph.

Cigar-making is extensively carried on in Key West, thus giving employment to hundreds of exiled Cubans. The establishment of Seidenberg & Co. is the largest in the city, employing six hundred operatives. Upon the first floor are seated eighty females, engaged in stripping tobacco from the stems. Here mother and daughter work side by side, the daughter earning five dollars per week on account of her more nimble fingers, and the mother three. The daughter puffs a delicate cigarette, while the mother smokes a huge cigar, it being considered a disgrace for the young ladies to use—only cigarettes. Two hundred and fifty men are occupied in one room upon the second floor, all forming those cylindrical tubes through which is to be drawn so much enjoyment in the present, while a perfect abandon of all anxiety for the future is felt. These operatives employ a reader, who reads aloud from newspapers printed in Spanish, while they are working, for which luxury each one bears his proportion of the expense. When any news favoring the cause of the insurgents is read, the house echoes with shouting and stamping of feet. The remaining laborers are employed in assorting and packing the cigars for market. Only the choicest tobacco is used in this factory—each first-class cigar made here being warranted equal to any Havana brand. Thirty-five thousand cigars are manufactured daily, consuming thirty thousand pounds of tobacco monthly. The most amusing sight of all is to see these workmen drink water: it is contained in a kind of earthenware vessel which they call a “monkey-jug,” made from a porous earth obtained in Cuba, and shaped something like our American gallon-jug, only the orifice is on the side. These jugs are suspended by a cord in some cool place, where the air circulates most freely, a slight percolation constantly taking place from the water inside. When they drink, the vessel is raised to an angle of twelve degrees above their mouths, and, after setting their heads back on their shoulders, with their months wide open, they turn the water down their throats, without any perceptible act of deglutition. After they have finished drinking, they close their mouths with a peculiar “umph,” at the same instant exclaiming “Ave Maria!” to indicate the act is finished, and returning thanks to the Virgin for the privilege.

The cochineal insect is indigenous here, and is found upon the Cactus opuntia. In appearance it resembles a tiny ball of cotton attached to the plant; but, on being pressed, a scarlet fluid exudes, which is the life-blood of the insect, produced by the colored cactus-fruit upon which it feeds. This furnishes the beautiful dye of commerce, for which it yields its life.

Sponging is another important branch of industry centering here—the entire coast being composed of reefs and keys. The numerous sounds and inlets abound with sponges of an excellent quality, one class of which has won an established reputation in commerce, being known as the “Florida Sheep’s wool.” The cheaper qualities are the “Yellow-boat,” “Glove,” and “Grass”—the last two being the kinds used particularly by the American Sponge Company, very extensively, in the manufacture of upholstery. Many tons of these sponges are shipped annually for that purpose. This product of the sea is found growing in water from ten to twenty-five feet deep. It is detached from the bottom, and brought to the surface by means of iron hooks fastened to long poles. When first found they are solid, and resemble a jelly-fish. They are then thrown on the deck of the vessel until they die, when they are beaten, washed and wrung out, leaving, as it were, but the skeleton of the original article—this constitutes the sponge of commerce. The amount realized from the sale of sponges gathered and sold at this place, yearly, exceeds one hundred thousand dollars, which costs nothing but the labor of gathering, cleaning, drying, and packing. The rough life these people lead does not make them appear as though they had been fed on mountain-dew, or nurtured on the wings of love; however, they are kind-hearted creatures to their friends.

Key West being the entrance to the Gulf of Mexico, it is well fortified by Fort Taylor, thus using every precautionary measure for its protection. Here stands this fort, with its frowning battlements, upon which are mounted the most formidable artillery used in modern warfare. The construction of this fortress was commenced in 1845, and it now protects an important harbor and naval depot. It is built entirely of brick, with two tiers of casemates, and one in barbette. The most exposed and weaker parts of the walls have been strengthened by making them twelve feet thick—solid masonry—which has prepared it to resist any thing but a continued bombardment. There are now mounted for action one hundred and thirty guns; three three-hundred-pound Parrot, thirty ten-inch Rodman, and two fifteen-inch Rodman guns have been placed in position on the barbette tier, in the form of a trapezoid, with bastions at the four angles. The remaining; guns are of smaller caliber. The defenses have recently been increased by two land-batteries, exterior to the fort, commanding the western and northern approaches. One of these batteries mounts twelve, and the other seventeen, fifteen-inch Rodman guns, with magazine traverses. There are also two towers, with casemated batteries, in which are twelve ten-inch guns, to prevent boats landing. All these works are under the supervision of a most accomplished engineer—Colonel Blount, of the United States Navy.

Key West is also fortified with a Curiosity Shop, in the event of an attack from curious people in search of something to gratify their tastes in that direction. The name was adopted from Dickens—the difference being that one existed in the imagination of the writer, and the other is a reality. Here we find the fac-simile of the veritable clock which ticked the hours away, mentioned by Dickens. In appearance, it has size enough to be a “bed by night and clock by day.” May it not have the misfortune of its namesake to time the sheriff’s entrance, and keep tally to the auctioneer’s hammer! Also a pair of andirons, said to have been used by George Washington. Imagine him and Martha in front of these grotesquely-patterned fire-supporters, the general just returned from Yorktown, Virginia, and relating the news of the capitulation of Lord Cornwallis. The sword of General La Fayette graces the rubbish of this curious medley, instead of a brave general’s side; pistols a century old; cannon of four-pound caliber, which were used anciently to announce the Fourth of July; flint-lock muskets, of Revolutionary fame; flags that have floated over victories, and surrendered with defeat; silver coin made in 1799; gold coins of 1803, together with coins of all nations and dates, from Julius CÆsar down; Russian signal-lanterns; a model of the steamer Sumter; a bird-cage, Gothic style, containing nearly five thousand pieces; turbot-skins; horned frogs; chicken-spurs, the property of a warrior never beaten; skeletons of sea-horses and sea-cows; sharks’ teeth; books two hundred years old; a parrot speaking Spanish; the devil in a bottle, besides a thousand other things too numerous to mention. When you survey all you can see, and don’t discover what you want, call for the owner, John Dixon, who is more of a curiosity than any thing his shop contains. He is a genuine Greek, born on an island of Greece. Is it an impossibility that the same crimson current which courses through his veins may not have descended from Solon or Socrates? Perhaps his ancestors might have been among the brave number who opposed Xerxes in his efforts to subjugate Greece—may be a relative of the cynic philosopher, Diogenes, whom he more nearly resembles in his peculiarity of independence and contempt for common things in general, or any thing which is not extremely old or curious. He has for a sign a full-sized ship’s figure-head of the Virgin Mary, on which the gilding is much defaced, it having been washed ashore many years since from the wreck of a Spanish ship.