OAK POINT 85 



and likewise of social functions, ceased to be occupied. Mr. Casa- 

 nova moved to New Orleans, and the house began to fall into 

 decay for want of care and attention. 



When the war was declared between this country and Spain, 

 Mr. Cosanova was an aged man. It is said that he returned to 

 Spain where he died. 



Just prior to the demolition of the building, the author had 

 occasion to visit it. The once magnificent old structure appeared 

 in a pitifully dilapidated state. The grounds surrounding it were 

 overrun with rank weeds and other unsightly growth. The mas- 

 sive bronze doors, with their Spanish coat-of-arms, turned heavily 

 upon their squeaky hinges, as if reluctant to admit the feet of 

 common mortals. 



As one entered the dimly lighted hall, he seemed to be stepping 

 into the shadows of former ages, for everything looked so sombre 

 and sepulchral. An unnatural hollow sound echoed and reverber- 

 ated thru the spacious hall as one's footsteps fell upon the marble 

 floor. 



A hasty glance thru the rooms left one amazed at the 

 elaborate beauty of the architecture. The decorations of each 

 apartment were different, there being no two rooms alike. Some 

 had panelled ceilings and walls, others were richly decorated in 

 fleur-de-lis and other floral designs, with heavy carved woodwork 

 of cherry and oak. So artistically and sumptuously were they 

 fashioned that one was fascinated with their grandeur. 



There were numerous stairways leading to the cellar, some of 

 which were rather risky to descend, as they were narrow and 

 dark. The cellar was strewn with old rubbish, and on the south 

 side of the building there was a large kitchen. A rusty iron oven, 

 a three-legged stool and an old wooden table upon which stood 

 several broken dishes, were the only furnishings of the room. The 

 place was musty and malodorous and shrouded in darkness. With 

 the aid of a lantern the old tunnel was located. It was choked up 

 with dirt and rubbish, but there was enough of it exposed to give 

 a fair conception of what it had once been. On either side of the 

 tunnel were half a dozen cells built of solid rock with heavy iron 

 hinges riveted to both the floors and walls. To what use they 

 could have been put can only be surmised. Could they speak what 

 tales they might have unfolded ! 



Off Port Morris is the deepest water in the vicinity of New 



