When to Come.—You can pick violets in the open air and pluck in the fields a small bouquet of daisies at this writing, but to see Thomasville at its best, I am told that you must come a little later than this, when the grass is all green. You can then pluck wild roses to your heart’s content. Then the pear orchards will be in full bloom, and the dogwood blossoms are a sight to behold. I have been here only three days and have seen no rain, but the soil is sandy and one can readily believe what enthusiasts say, that an hour or two after a long and heavy rain walking is again pleasant, the rain having percolated through the ground, leaving the surface perfectly dry, if not hard. And there is seemingly no end of lovely walks. You get out of the town in five minutes, and if you are bent on pedestrian exercise, and have an eye for beautiful scenes, turn your steps in any direction and you will make no mistake.
What to Bring.—If the ladies of your party are equestriennes, by all means let them bring their riding habits with them: everybody rides. Driving, too, is largely indulged in, the roads being hard, smooth and unusually wide. They extend for miles and miles through the pine woods, and their picturesque beauty you will please imagine; it is not easy to describe it without using more adjectives than I have at my command en route. To sportsmen let me say, do not come without your dog and gun or you will never forget nor forgive the error. Wild turkeys abound, there are snipe in plenty and quail can be bagged by a novice. You see them on the road while driving, and the crack of the rifle is heard almost constantly. Quail on toast is a regular dish at the hotels at least once a day.
The Negro and his Works.—Without desiring to attack political problems, to raise dead issues or to discuss questions that have long since been answered, one cannot resist the temptation to obtain information on the result of the emancipation proclamation, for although it is over a quarter of a century old the subject yet has great interest for this country, and for other countries also, for that matter. Here is a statement of facts and figures in condensed, nutshell form upon which chapters and books might be written—the colored population of Georgia pay taxes on real estate amounting to twelve millions of dollars, the realty being estimated at about one half its actual value, and their personal property is estimated at about six millions of dollars. There are instances of marked faithfulness and attachment of slaves to their former owners, some of the blacks still serving their white masters. Among the servants of Mrs. M. A. Bower, proprietor of the Piney Woods Hotel, are two who formerly served this same “master,” one of them being the skilful pastry-cook of the hotel. Negroes say that the whites and work do not agree. Possibly not; they are unaccustomed to labor hard in this section, and on the other hand whites claim that the colored are by nature more fitted for work in such a climate. Be that as it may, it is certain that the colored people of the South are not over fond of work, either: you cannot depend upon their working regularly. So soon as they can put enough by to keep them in cracked wheat or hominy and a little tobacco the colored laborers are likely to throw up a job, and are not over particular if they occasionally leave an employer in the lurch. If you are a new settler and are building a house, for instance, they will have no compunction about leaving you some fine morning, or some wet afternoon, before your house is roofed in. Of clothing for warmth they need little, and the weather never being severe their log cabins or pine huts need not be very tight: if they shed the rain that is all that is necessary for them.
The Chain Gang.—The jail at Thomasville was not near large enough until a new plan of punishment was adopted. The colored roughs committed small offences for the very purpose of getting into prison; in that way obtaining food and shelter, and at the same time “doin’ nuffin.” Not so now: the town council met and adopted the resolution that prisoners should be made to work, and that is how the “chain gang” came into existence. You will see gangs of colored men repairing the roads and engaged in other public works on the highway. They wear a striped uniform after the prevailing fashion at our State prisons. The two legs of each man are held close enough together by iron chains to prevent the action of running, but yet the chains afford him sufficient freedom to move about and make himself useful with pick and shovel. It is a novel sight for a stranger to meet one of these gangs on the road, and the clank of the locked iron links has a strange and weird sound. To their credit be it said, the men are ashamed of their public disgrace, and the Thomasville prison is now large enough to hold all the applicants for admission. Making the negro work and making him a public show have had good effect. Such a plan is of course not feasible for cities, but it might be adopted with a degree of success in thinly populated districts of Northern States. Tramps give Thomasville a wide berth. If one of the genus unwittingly wanders that way he is given his choice: he must leave at once or join the chain gang and work for thirty days.
Upland Products.—Cotton is still king in the South, and Georgia produces its full share, but Thomas county is also noted for oats. More oats are produced in Thomas county than in any other county in the United States. This I have from one of the prominent citizens of the town, whose information is as extensive as the manner of imparting his knowledge is agreeable. If you come to Thomasville try to meet Dr. Bower. He practices his profession no longer, being interested in many large enterprises. He can give you more interesting information concerning these parts than probably any other person hereabouts. But you must allow a little for Dr. Bower’s enthusiasm. He is apt to look at Thomasville and Thomas county through a rose-colored glass. From Dr. Bower your correspondent learned, among other things, that the Le Conte pear, which grows in such profusion here and in Florida, was brought to this country from China about fifty years ago, and propagated by Commodore Le Conte, a Georgian of French descent. It does not equal the Bartlett in flavor, but its skin is tougher, and it bears transportation better. You may see orchards containing thousands of trees, and the trees average a production of twelve to fifteen bushels. Some trees are said to yield as many as thirty-five bushels. They boast here of the largest pear orchard in the world—two hundred and twenty-five acres. Last year twenty-five thousand crates of pears were shipped from Thomasville to cities in the North and West. Some found their way to the New England summer resorts, and were received with favor. Still, from all I can learn, while the North has its Bartlett, it need not envy the South its Le Conte.
The Poor Kine.—It is conceded that they raise here in abundance cotton, oats and pears, and that pine trees, roses, magnolias, quail, figs, and other good things grow in profusion, but, on the other hand, the live stock is very poor indeed and meats must come all the way from New York if people demand meat that is good and nutritious. That is where all the meat comes from which is consumed at the hotels. It almost makes your heart ache to see the poor, weak oxen that are forced to work, and the thin, bony cows that must yield their milk. It may be different in summer time, when the grass is rich, but the cattle seem to be very poorly fed now, or not fed at all. They are allowed to roam freely about the streets and byways of the town, and pick up, by day or night, what they can find.
The Winn Farm.—An exception to this rule must be made in favor of Winn Farm, a tract of eighteen hundred acres, owned by F. J. Winn, several hundred acres of which are under cultivation. The stock there looks better than the animals you see in Thomasville proper, and for which you have nothing but sympathy. They make good wine, too, at Winn Farm, and it is offered in hospitable quantities from the hand of an attractive, cultivated woman, the presiding genius of the place, Mrs. F. J. Winn. The luscious, juicy oranges which are put on the tables of the Piney Woods Hotel in such liberal measure, come from the grove on Indian River, Florida, owned and cultivated by Dr. Bower. The grove contains four or five thousand orange trees in bearing.
The Hotels.—There is a standing joke about certain Southern cities where there are only two hotels, that, whichever one you select, you will wish that you had chosen the other. Although the hotels south of the line have greatly improved of late years, the old joke will still apply in certain towns and cities. Not so, however, at Thomasville. There are only two hotels here known to fame, and you will make no mistake if you select either. It is a matter of surprise to find two such hotels in such a comparatively small town. The Mitchell House and the Piney Woods Hotel (I take them alphabetically) are both large, new, handsomely furnished and perfectly appointed houses, containing all the modern improvements, and erected with strict regard for the laws of sanitation. The Mitchell House is an imposing solid brick structure, four stories high, two hundred feet square, with a cultivated park of two acres sweeping before its front piazza. This little park is reserved for the hotel guests and their friends.
The Piney Woods Hotel is within gun-shot distance of the Mitchell House, on the same street, with a front measuring three hundred and fifty feet, the other side overlooking Paradise Park, of which I have already spoken. The Piney Woods stands, as it were, and as its name might indicate, on the very edge of the pine forests, and yet it is only a five minutes’ walk from the post-office and a ten minutes’ drive from the depot. The pamphlet issued by the proprietor tells you that “the Piney Woods is modelled similar to the Grand Union Hotel, at Saratoga Springs,” but this is a mistake of the compiler of the work, and is no compliment at all to the house under consideration—which is far more pleasing to the eye, exteriorly, than the Grand Union at Saratoga. The Piney Woods is built after plans of J. A. Woods, a New York architect, who planned the new Grand Hotel in the Catskill Mountains, and with its wide and lofty verandas, its projecting towers, its pretty corners here and there, is a facsimile on a somewhat smaller scale of that favorite and beautiful house. Any one who has seen the hotel on the line of the Ulster and Delaware Railway, can picture to himself the Piney Woods Hotel at Thomasville. The late Captain Gillette, who kept the Mountain Hotel, kept this one also for years. William E. Davies is now the manager of the Piney Woods.
Each hotel, the Mitchell House and the Piney Woods, will accommodate nearly three hundred guests.