PARADISE--A GUAJIRO BALL--OUR NEIGHBORS--A DAY WITH THE MARQUIS.
Cuba is a paradise for those who are too lazy to do anything but exist,
as one can live there without labor. The tall, straight palm-tree,
of which the poorer houses are built, can be split from end to end
with wedge and axe, the pith easily removed, and the crescent-shaped
sides, weighted down with heavy rocks upon the ground, will dry as
flat as planks. The trunk, split half in two, makes excellent troughs
and gutters, the feathery branches thatch their dwellings, the
berries furnish food for their hogs, and the core of the pinnacle is
as delicious as cauliflower. One palm-tree will furnish material for
a _guajiro’s_ house complete, sides, roof, door, and eaves-troughs
included.
The _jicory_, a large gourd that the _guira_-tree bears not only on
its branches but its trunk from the very ground up, makes all the
table-ware necessary for the modest palm hut; divided in twain, and the
mossy interior removed, then slowly dried in the shade, it furnishes
plates and bowls; with only one small aperture at the stem-end, it
is a jug; and if a coarse netting of the strong, fibrous aloe is
knotted about it, behold a demijohn (of one or two gallons capacity),
that can be easily slung over the shoulder and carried about! The
cordage, ropes, and bridles of _pita caruja_ are strong and durable;
oftentimes the latter are very ingeniously and elaborately braided and
twisted. Any _guajiro_ can make the rude pottery required in their
cooking, for which clay is always easily procured, immense amounts
being used in the manufacture of certain low grades of white sugar;
none of the indigenous fruits and vegetables require more cultivation
than the _machete_ affords, and those most generally prized and used,
have only to be replanted at intervals of years. Very little clothing
is required, and that of the thinnest and lightest material. In the
country, children run about _au naturel_ until they are eight or ten
years of age. Even in cities, with well-to-do families, a child, until
it walks, wears but one thin, short covering, and that, in order to
afford more freedom to the limbs, is often knotted around the waist.
I have more than once alluded to a family of _guajiros_, who lived near
us, and were somewhat dependent on Desengaño. They owned an acre or two
of land, planted in sweet-potatoes, melangas, and other edible roots.
Their simple dwellings consisted of one or two rooms each, and were
shaded by a few palms and a clump of banana-trees.
The aged mother and one unmarried son occupied the principal hut, and
it was surrounded by those of three married sons with their wives
and hosts of dusky little black-eyed children; here they had lived
“even unto the third and fourth generation,” probably not one of
them ever having been out of the _partido_. The men were employed in
hauling our produce to the depot for shipment from December until May;
the remainder of the year they did nothing but attend to their own
patches, and one man could easily have done all that and had time to
spare. During the summer, when pressed for plowmen, we made frequent
tempting overtures to them, which were invariably refused. The women
raised chickens, but none for sale; fattened hogs, but they were for
home consumption; and braided a few Panama hats for their husbands
and sons. We paid each man seventeen dollars in gold, and an _arrobe_
(twenty-five pounds) each of rice and _tasajo_ a month, while they
worked for us, and were in the way of continuing the rations, to a
limited extent, during the idle season, if there was sickness or want
with them. If Panchito came to tell me his _mama_ was sick, I sent
her some rice; and if Pio or Manuel, the two boys who were Henry’s
attendants on his _jutia_-hunts, had a _mal de cabeza_ (headache),
Henry was sure to think a little _tasajo_ would make him feel better,
and it generally did. _Per contra_, when they heard--which they were
sure to do, for some one of them dropped in at Desengaño every
day--that Ellie was not well, or Lamo had a twinge of rheumatism,
immediately Pio would present himself with a chicken or a few eggs
tied up in a _listado_ handkerchief, with the compliments of his
_mama_. Once when Panchito, in awkward handling of a hogshead of sugar,
received a hurt, I rode over to their _sitio_ with Henry to express in
person our regret at the accident, and to take him a cup of jelly. I
so often rode in their direction without crossing the boundary, that
my appearance produced no commotion until I had gained the center hut
and offered to dismount. The scattering of the children of all ages
and sexes to the friendly shelter of the banana-bushes, and behind the
coffee-sack curtains that hung at the doors, was amusing.
They were entirely naked, but one by one, as they gained the assistance
of their mammas, they appeared arrayed in the thinnest of muslin slips,
the merest shadow of an excuse for a covering.
One of the women was braiding a hat in one piece. She began the work at
the center of the crown with several very narrow strips of _palma téa_,
gradually adding more strips as it increased in circumference, until
the top of the crown was complete, then shaping the sides and brim. It
was amazing to see the precision and dexterity with which her slender
fingers accomplished the intricate work. I became so interested, that
several subsequent visits were made to learn the art. Though the woman
was painstaking and patient in her endeavor to teach, she failed to
impart the mysterious skill she so deftly exhibited. The hats Ellie and
I made were long strands of braided palmetto sewed into shape; those of
Carlota had the appearance of imported Panamas. That family was a fair
type of innocent, harmless, kindly peasantry, sufficiently numerous
to constitute a marked domestic feature peculiar to the island. They
were law-abiding, and in their humble way useful, but with scarcely a
spark of enterprise. Panchito wanted to marry, but the little patch of
land they jointly owned was not sufficient to support a fourth family,
so he traded his interest to his brothers for a horse with _aparejo_
(saddle, etc.), two oxen, and a wagon, the creak of whose clumsy
wooden wheels could be heard rods off, and prepared to emigrate to the
adjoining _partido_, perhaps ten miles away; but the captain refused
to issue him a _permit_ to change his domicile, therefore he could not
go. About that time military exactions, of which I have made mention,
drove Panchito and his brothers to the desperate resolve to sit down in
abject idleness.
The families of the wealthy planters spent so little time on their
estates that, for a large portion of the year, we were deprived of
their pleasant society, and soon learned to take interest in the
occasional entertainments of our more humble neighbors, who were always
courteous and friendly. Don Pedro’s four pretty daughters, though
lacking in education and cultivation, and quite unused to the best
urban society, were amiable, sprightly girls, who talked agreeably,
danced gracefully, and played by ear on the piano or guitar the pretty
Cuban _danzas_ that, by reason of the peculiar accentuation, are so
difficult to learn by note. Several times they had proposed to Ellie,
of whom they were very fond, to accompany them to a _guajiro_ ball
in the village of Cabezas. One day Félicia called with her father to
urge me to chaperon the whole party, as their mother was unable to
accompany them. I consented, simply to oblige, and at dusk the four
girls and _papaito_ (as they affectionately called Don Pedro) arrived
on horseback, followed by an attendant with a pack-horse carrying their
wardrobe in hampers. Ellie and I, already dressed for the occasion,
seated ourselves in the _volante_, our escort mounted a horse, and
we drove rapidly off. A _volante_, the most unique of vehicles, is
a chaise-body swung low on leather braces between and a little in
advance of two enormous wheels--the peculiar construction giving it a
swinging motion seemingly independent of the propelling one, that makes
the riding exceedingly easy and comfortable. One horse is harnessed
between the very long shafts, and the other, the “near” horse, outside,
hitched by stout traces to the body of the vehicle. The _calisero_
rides the trace horse and leads the other by the bridle, and on every
occasion, except a funeral, proceeds at full gallop. The picturesque
_volante_, the only style of vehicle equally suited to the city streets
and the rugged country roads (for it is impossible to upset it), and
the graceful mantilla, so well adapted to that voluptuous climate,
have gradually yielded to the encroachments of the clumsy cab and the
hideous bonnet.
Arrived at Cabezas, we followed the Don to a friend’s house, where the
señoritas proposed to unpack the hampers and array themselves in full
evening dress. Ellie and I with the gentlemen of our party, and a few
of the villagers who sauntered in and out as freely and unrestrainedly
as if the house was their own, waited until the young ladies were
ready, then we adjourned _en masse_ to the ball. It was given in a
building especially designed for the purpose. Besides the ball-room
proper, was one adjoining, used as a retreat for the _duennas_ to
smoke a cigarette and take a gossipy cup of coffee, and for the young
mothers who had not graduated to the position of wall-flowers, to
retire and nourish the babies that were apparently about as numerous
and demonstrative as any other class of guests; then a third apartment,
where the _caballeros_ occasionally vanished to enjoy a roast rib of
pork and a glass of red wine or _aguadiente_, and whence cigarettes
and coffee were dispatched to their respective señoras. The Dons
did not have to withdraw to smoke; many of them danced with cigars
in their lips. Each of these rooms had long windows; and the heavy
bars, extending from top to bottom, were availed of by the guests
as hitching-posts for their horses, thus giving the equines ample
opportunity to gaze upon the scene.
As the younger ladies were mostly sought for partners, I found myself
relegated to the back tier of seats, and the captain’s faded wife came
out from the nursery with an invitation for me to join the coterie of
gossips. Although I neither smoked, nursed, nor talked, my presence was
no manner of restraint on the other occupants of the room, who pursued
these various diversions with perfect _abandon_ and innocent composure.
The assembly was thoroughly representative of Cuban rustic life, and,
though occupying different grades of social rank, mingled freely and
unreservedly in conversation and in the dance. Ellie soon discovered
that a formal introduction was not considered necessary to assure
her every attention from the beaux, but she was able to decline the
solicitation of numerous aspirants on the score of ignorance of the
_danza_. I imagine Don Pedro’s exceedingly pretty daughters were the
_crême de la crême_, but there were others, in low russet-leather
shoes and plain _listado_ dresses (a striped linen worn by the
poorer classes), with escorts resplendent in cotton-velvet jackets
and gorgeous chains and pins, who were the most willowy and graceful
dancers. All the _danzas_ peculiar to Cuba are slow and gliding, the
quintessence of voluptuous ease and grace. The music is _pianissimo_,
well accentuated, and the animated throng keep exquisite time, and are
untiring. The violins were replaced by a _banduria_--a small guitar
of native construction--and the ball concluded with a _pas-de-deux_:
a couple in _listado_ and cotton-velvet appeared in a typical Cuban
dance, “_El Zapateado_”--a most graceful, courtly, and symmetrical
measure, that perfectly illustrated the betwitching poetry of motion.
It was almost morning when we stepped into our own rooms again, fresh
from our first and only experience at a _guajiro_ ball. For days we
talked about it, recalling the many unique and amusing incidents of the
occasion, none of which impressed us more fully than the thoughtful
courtesy and perfect decorum that prevailed during the entire evening.
Not a loud or noisy voice was heard; not the slightest indication of
undue exhilaration from the frequent visits to the roast pig and red
wine, nor a single occurrence to remind us that we were witnessing
the festivities of an abused and down-trodden peasantry who had no
opportunity or hope of rising above the humble station that had been
their lot for generations.
Don José Brito lived on the mountain. The lines of his plantation
joined ours; and my husband always thought him the best manager in the
_partido_, from his careful supervision of many important matters not
appertaining to the one absorbing industry of sugar-making. He had a
rope-walk, and manufactured from the aloe all the cordage and rope used
on his place; besides, he had better pasturage, and therefore finer
stock, than any one else.
Don José was genial and sociable, and the gentlemen of the two families
exchanged occasional visits. He was a representative of rural Cuban
grandeur, rare even then, and now entirely passed away. His favorite
steed was a large, milk-white Andalusian mule, with shaved tail
terminating in a little tuft of hair tied with a bright ribbon, and
cropped mane; the equipment was an elaborate russet-leather Spanish
saddle with cantle almost as high as the back of a chair, and huge
holsters on each side of the pommel, from which gold-mounted pistols
projected. A broad crupper extended from the saddle to the switch-like
tail, and a band of variegated leather and fringe hung in a graceful
festoon across the breast of the animal from side to side. All this
leather-work was richly embossed, stitched in brilliant colors, and
glittering with silver mountings, wherever a place could be found
for them. A superb Toledo blade, full thirty-two inches long (the
regulation length of a Toledo), in an ornamented scabbard, completed
the equestrian outfit of this gorgeous gentleman. Don José was stout
and swarthy, with a most gracious and winning manner, and a pleasant
smile, revealing magnificent teeth. His small brown hands sparkled
with numerous jeweled rings, and two heavy gold chains crossed his
breast, both attached to watches which nestled in the pockets of
his spotless white vest. A more friendly, accommodating neighbor we
could not have found in any land. With all this love of display, he
was thoroughly practical; and long experience with the small details
of plantation-work, that are generally so irksome to the average
Cuban planter as to be avoided altogether, made Don José’s advice and
counsel valuable, and he was so obliging that we often feared we were
imposing on his good-nature. Although there were other neighbors more
accessible, Don José Brito’s horse (the Andalusian mule was for festive
occasions) was the first one seen approaching when the peals of our
bell announced fire or other danger at Desengaño. La Señora, his wife,
was so obese that she was afraid to descend the steep mountain-road
in her _volante_, so was unable--as her genial husband told us again
and again--to extend to us the courtesy of a visit; but she was very
neighborly in her feelings, frequently sending us little bowls of
delicious _dulces_ of her own make, and kept Ellie abundantly supplied
with _cascarilla_, a powder made of egg-shells, for the complexion, and
universally used by the Cuban ladies, to whose olive faces it imparts a
chalky, ghastly tint.
We became greatly attached to Don José’s nephew, the “little doctor,”
as we called him. He was such a diminutive specimen of manhood, that
the embroidered shirt-bosoms and dainty, perfumed handkerchiefs he
exhibited seemed quite appropriate; not so the massive watch-chains
and charms, which were better fitted to a man twice his size. Don
Tomas was such a genial, whole-souled gentleman, and was so cultivated
and refined, that we were always glad to see him enter and deposit
his formidable pistols and sword-belt on the parlor-table; it was the
signal of a bright, entertaining visit. Ellie and I often wondered why
we never met him at any of the social gatherings; and he rarely called
on us, unless sent for professionally. As he had never married, and
always seemed confused and uncomfortable when bantered on the subject
of being a bachelor, I found myself weaving romances in which he
figured as the disappointed lover.
One day Don José, arrayed in all his elegance, paused on his way home
from the _paradero_ (railroad-station) to tell us that Don Tomas would
return on the morrow, and then to us was revealed the kindly little
doctor’s heart-story. When a young student, in Matanzas, he became
enamored of a pretty señorita, who reciprocated his love, and they were
to be married after he had graduated in his profession; but a dashing
Spanish officer appeared upon the scene as a rival, and the young girl
was forced by her parents to accept what appeared to them the most
advantageous offer. After a short honeymoon, the officer announced
that he had received an unexpected summons to Spain, and proposed that
his wife remain with her mother during his temporary absence.
Intelligence reached them, after his departure, that he already had a
family in his native country! In Cuba, both by civil and ecclesiastical
law, she was still a wife, and such she must remain so long as the
deceiver lived. As it is not _comme il faut_ for a married woman to
participate in society unattended by her husband, her life became
one of entire seclusion. The heart-broken young doctor withdrew to
the country, and lived on a plantation with his uncle, in the utmost
retirement, refusing all social pleasures, and devoting himself
exclusively to his profession. “Now,” added Don José, with a radiant
smile, “after seventeen years of waiting, news has arrived from Spain
of the death of that officer, and Don Tomas has gone to Matanzas to
marry the only woman he ever loved.” In due time we called upon the new
señora, and were presented to a faded, shy little body, with a daughter
taller than herself. She was not particularly attractive, and her
manner was somewhat constrained, as would naturally be the case with
one who had lived years under anomalous and grievous repression; but
she was all the world to the faithful little doctor.
One of our neighbors was a marquis. He was in the habit of visiting his
plantation once a year, and then he entertained in a most lavish and
hospitable manner. My husband had made his acquaintance in Havana,
and shortly after we arrived at Desengaño he called to welcome us,
in a superb _volante_ with prancing white horses, whose harnesses
glittered with elaborate silver ornaments. The _calisero_ and outriders
in livery, wearing (in lieu of the conventional knee-boots of other
lands) low black slippers with enormous silver buckles, and glittering
spurs of the same metal. No one else in all that _partido_ moved about
in such royal state, for no one else could display such a gorgeous
crest as that proud _hidalgo_ of Spain. On one occasion, when his house
was filled with city guests, he came in person to invite us to what
he called in his quaint English a “peek-a-neek.” We were promised a
_déjeûner à la fourchette_ in a grove, to be followed by the ascent
of a mountain, from whose summit a view of unrivaled extent could be
obtained. Ellie and I were charmed to accept a gracious invitation that
promised such an attractive episode in our monotonous lives. When we
arrived at the rendezvous, which was the marquis’s lawn, other guests
were already assembled in _volantes_ and on horseback. A brilliant
cavalcade we presented on the route to the grove, which was located on
the side of a dashing stream of clear water. Here an arbor covered with
fresh palm-branches had been improvised to shelter us from the sun’s
rays. And in this shade the banquet was spread, a right royal feast of
wild Guinea-fowls garnished with olives, quails served with raisins,
roast ribs of fresh pork, and bananas cooked in a variety of tempting
and delicate ways; salads, garlic, and unlimited fruit _dulces_, any
quantity of Spanish wines, and stronger Cuban drinks made of cane-juice
and bitter-orange peel--all sumptuously served, and partaken of with a
relish that invariably attends an out-door feast. Nothing was omitted
by our titled host that could add to the perfection of the occasion.
What a happy time Ellie and I had! We did not understand all that was
said, everyone talked with so much volubility and gesture, and often
we detected a perplexed look in bright and kindly faces when one
of us ventured a remark that from defective idiom or pronunciation
blundered into incoherence. No matter if the courtly marquis himself
failed in his attempt to read “Hamlet” to Ellie from an English edition
of _Shake-es-pere_, and she did not understand a word. It was all
delightful, and gave us ample theme for thought and conversation for
many a quiet hour. The marquis, who spoke English “as she is spoke,”
acquired his pronunciation from an Ollendorf or something worse; but,
confident of his fluency in the language, of which theoretically he was
a master, he was by no means timid, though often making most ludicrous
mistakes. Notwithstanding we were in a foreign land, and floundering
through the embarrassment of making ourselves intelligible in a
language we had not learned even from books, we were, at times almost
forced to turn aside and smile at his absurd mistakes.
His native Castilian, which was pure and free from the idioms that
abound in many Spanish-speaking countries, we could perfectly well
understand. A thorough education and extended travel, as befits a
wealthy nobleman of proud Spain, had greatly improved a naturally good
intellect; and, being a gentleman of elegant leisure, he was able to
devote much time to the translation of English and French classics into
his native tongue. I am informed that his published translation of
Shakespeare’s dramas, notably “Hamlet,” evinced marked ability.
After the feast came the walk up the mountain; and, to provide for
occasional refreshment as we paused to admire the distant landscape,
we were followed by a pack-horse, with hampers of green cocoanuts, and
juicy, ripe pineapples; the first universally used in its immature
state, when a dexterous stroke of a knife makes an aperture into a
sphere of limpid water, clear and sparkling, possessing a slightly
sweet and slightly saline taste, mingled to perfection and wonderfully
cool and refreshing. The pineapple, easily stripped of its rough coat,
is rich and succulent, with an indescribably luscious flavor. In Cuba a
single ripe one fills a whole house with its incomparable fragrance.
We mounted by winding paths through a never-ending bower of dense
foliage, with blossoming shrubs and vines on every side, and, when the
apex of the _monte_ was reached, stood on such an elevation that a
magnificent panorama opened upon our vision.
A broad plain of waving cane, broken by towering palms and dotted by
plantation-houses, lay at our feet. In the remote distance, clusters of
white and yellow buildings surrounding tiny church-spires and crosses,
indicated the two neighboring hamlets of Palos and Cabezas. Away and
beyond were woods and fields on either side, stretching far as the eye
could reach; and at the very horizon were narrow threads of sparkling
blue, which the marquis assured us were the Caribbean Sea on the one
side and the Atlantic Ocean on the other. We lingered to rest, and
admire a scene so grand and beautiful, until warned by brilliant clouds
and freshening breezes that the day was almost spent; then turned our
backs on the lovely vision and reluctantly descended.
It was during this expedition that Ellie saw the haunts of the veiled
owl, a rare and handsome bird with a dusky shimmer over its white
plumage, like a gossamer web. The gallant host eagerly offered to
secure her a pair of young ones for pets, little dreaming, perhaps, how
difficult the task--their nests being constructed in such inaccessible
and inhospitable places that even a _maja_ or _jutia_ (the serpent and
the mammoth rat) would scarcely venture to intrude.
It was night, and the moon was flooding the whole landscape with a
brilliant light, that made visible every inequality in the narrow
road that led to Desengaño, when we bade our courteous host _adios_;
and, while he gallantly raised the broad top of the _volante_ so as
to exclude all the light possible, charged us to be careful not to
“receive de moon.” On one occasion he “did receive de moon, and it turn
de features of his face quite a--round.”
Ellie and I with difficulty restrained our merriment over the quaint
conceit, until we were quite beyond the hearing of the marquis, who
stood on the veranda watching the _volante_ until it vanished from
sight. But Zell, our _calisero_, assured us that it was really very
dangerous to expose one’s self to the direct rays of that luminary.
“Why, I am keerful to kiver over my hog-pens dese nights, I is. If a
hog even lays in de moon all night, next mornin’ his snout is turned
clean ’round under one ear! No, I never seed one dat way, but dat’s
what dey tell me; and, ef you notis, you never see no animal ’bout
here laying ’sleep in de moon; oven de lizards, dey creeps under de
leaves and in de rocks. Don’t you ’member dat time in Havana, when
Captin-Gin’ral Mansano went to dat big dinner down to Marianao, and
stayed eatin’ and drinkin’ till ’most mornin’, den he rid home in a
open kerridge, and dropped dead de very next day? Well, dat was fur
ridin’ in de moon.”
The marquis long since retired to his native Spain. Oppressive
taxation, together with extravagant habits and luxurious tastes,
overwhelmed him, and the carelessly managed “peek-a-neek” plantation
was sold for debt. He used to say, “My engine walk well.” It walked out
of his possession years ago, and not even a Hamlet’s ghost of all his
Cuban wealth remains to mock him.