manufactory at Coldspring, near New York, which during the war
had furnished the largest Parrott, cast-iron guns. It was
stipulated between the contracting parties that the manufactory
of Coldspring should engage to transport to Tampa Town,
in southern Florida, the necessary materials for casting
the Columbiad. The work was bound to be completed at latest
by the 15th of October following, and the cannon delivered
in good condition under penalty of a forfeit of one hundred
dollars a day to the moment when the moon should again present
herself under the same conditions– that is to say, in eighteen
years and eleven days.
The engagement of the workmen, their pay, and all the necessary
details of the work, devolved upon the Coldspring Company.
This contract, executed in duplicate, was signed by Barbicane,
president of the Gun Club, of the one part, and T. Murchison
director of the Coldspring manufactory, of the other, who thus
executed the deed on behalf of their respective principals.
CHAPTER XIII
STONES HILL
When the decision was arrived at by the Gun Club, to the
disparagement of Texas, every one in America, where reading is
a universal acquirement, set to work to study the geography
of Florida. Never before had there been such a sale for works
like “Bertram’s Travels in Florida,” “Roman’s Natural History of
East and West Florida,” “William’s Territory of Florida,” and
“Cleland on the Cultivation of the Sugar-Cane in Florida.”
It became necessary to issue fresh editions of these works.
Barbicane had something better to do than to read. He desired
to see things with his own eyes, and to mark the exact position
of the proposed gun. So, without a moment’s loss of time, he
placed at the disposal of the Cambridge Observatory the funds
necessary for the construction of a telescope, and entered into
negotiations with the house of Breadwill and Co., of Albany, for
the construction of an aluminum projectile of the required size.
He then quitted Baltimore, accompanied by J. T. Maston, Major
Elphinstone, and the manager of the Coldspring factory.
On the following day, the four fellow-travelers arrived at
New Orleans. There they immediately embarked on board the
_Tampico_, a despatch-boat belonging to the Federal navy, which
the government had placed at their disposal; and, getting up
steam, the banks of Louisiana speedily disappeared from sight.
The passage was not long. Two days after starting, the _Tampico_,
having made four hundred and eighty miles, came in sight of the
coast of Florida. On a nearer approach Barbicane found himself
in view of a low, flat country of somewhat barren aspect.
After coasting along a series of creeks abounding in lobsters
and oysters, the _Tampico_ entered the bay of Espiritu Santo,
where she finally anchored in a small natural harbor, formed by
the _embouchure_ of the River Hillisborough, at seven P.M., on
the 22d of October.
Our four passengers disembarked at once. “Gentlemen,” said
Barbicane, “we have no time to lose; tomorrow we must obtain
horses, and proceed to reconnoiter the country.”
Barbicane had scarcely set his foot on shore when three thousand
of the inhabitants of Tampa Town came forth to meet him, an
honor due to the president who had signalized their country by
his choice.
Declining, however, every kind of ovation, Barbicane ensconced
himself in a room of the Franklin Hotel.
On the morrow some of the small horses of the Spanish breed,
full of vigor and of fire, stood snorting under his windows;
but instead of four steeds, here were fifty, together with
their riders. Barbicane descended with his three fellow-
travelers; and much astonished were they all to find themselves
in the midst of such a cavalcade. He remarked that every
horseman carried a carbine slung across his shoulders and
pistols in his holsters.
On expressing his surprise at these preparations, he was
speedily enlightened by a young Floridan, who quietly said:
“Sir, there are Seminoles there.”
“What do you mean by Seminoles?”
“Savages who scour the prairies. We thought it best, therefore,
to escort you on your road.”
“Pooh!” cried J. T. Maston, mounting his steed.
“All right,” said the Floridan; “but it is true enough, nevertheless.”
“Gentlemen,” answered Barbicane, “I thank you for your kind