A CORRESPONDENT IN THE WEST INDIES.
American News-agents and their Work--Local Information--The
'Glorious Campaign' of Santo Domingo--'El Canon de
Montecristo'--Wounded Soldiers--Still Life again!--A Visit from the
Spanish Fleet--Escape from Jail.
'Here is something in your line,' remarks Nicasio one day, handing me a
letter which has just been brought to our studio by a black messenger.
The letter is from Don Elijio, of the firm of Bosch Brothers, and states
that the Havana agent of the _New York Trigger_ has commissioned the
merchants to find him a person who is both qualified and willing to
undertake the post of newspaper correspondent. The individual must have
a thorough knowledge of the Spanish and English languages; he must be
conversant with the ways of Cuba and be in a position to collect facts
connected with the social and political life of the town in which he
resides. His duties will also be to receive communications from the
agents of the American newspaper in question, who are dispersed all over
the West Indies, and after selecting the chief points of interest
contained in these communications, he must dispatch them, in the form of
telegrams and news-letters, to head-quarters in Havana. For these
services a liberal monthly salary is offered, and Don Elijio presuming
that journalism is in some way related to 'the divine art of Apelles,'
and having moreover every confidence in our versatile powers, offers us
the engagement.
All is fish that comes to our net in Cuban waters, so as art 'trade' is
looking rather 'dull,' owing to recent monetary panics in the town,
Nicasio advises me to give the correspondent business a trial. I
accordingly accept the proffered post, and after some preliminary
arrangements with Messrs Bosch Brothers, commence operations.
In my capacity of correspondent to the _New York Trigger_, I am required
to follow certain directions with which the central agent in Havana
supplies me. First, a telegram, containing the pith of the news I have
to impart, must be dispatched with all speed to head-quarters in Havana,
where it will be again transmitted to New York by means of the submarine
cable between Havana and Florida. The telegram must be shortly followed
by a carefully composed news-letter, of which press-copies must be taken
and dispatched by two or three different routes. I am enjoined to
remember that 'the first thing correspondents should acquire is news,
and the second is how to give it; not forgetting that they are writing
for a newspaper and not for a magazine.'
'The correspondence,' says the directions, 'should embrace all that
bears upon the political, administrative, agricultural, mining,
commercial and other topics of the day, including new enterprises, new
railroads and telegraphs. It is important to obtain the particulars of
any measure contemplated by the Spanish Government, but these must be
obtained from _reliable_ sources and _before_ they have been made
public. Local subjects should be eschewed, except they bear on politics,
or on anything transcendental and of a "sensational" character likely to
interest the American public.'
The shipping list, containing the names of vessels and their dates of
arrival and departure to and from any port, together with a brief
account of any disaster at sea, forms an important item in the agent's
duties. But above all promptness in the dispatch of news 'bearing a
sensational character,' is strongly recommended.
To be _in advance_ of its contemporaries--or at least never behind
them--is the end and aim of the American paper which I serve, and to
attain these desirable objects, every artifice must be employed and 'no
expense spared.'
The agents established in the neighbouring islands and in South America
are mostly natives of the towns where they reside and, like myself, have
other occupations besides those which concern a newspaper. Senor Pillo,
who supplies most of my South American news, is a clerk in a sugar
warehouse. Mons. Blague of Hayti is a cigar manufacturer in that colony,
while Meinheer Vandercram is a sorter in the Post-office at St Thomas.
Then there is Mr. Archibald Cannie, in the adjacent island of Jamaica,
who furnishes me with abundant news from Colon, Panama, St. Domingo,
Barbadoes, Trinidad and a family of sister isles. These persons
sometimes give me a world of trouble with their conflicting statements
and confused information, and their sins are invariably visited upon my
shoulders. Mr. Cannie of Jamaica is, however, the best of my
correspondents, though he is occasionally afflicted with what my
employer in Havana styles 'Magazine on the brain;' which means that Mr.
Cannie is too prolific, and adopts a diffuse, rambling mode of imparting
facts in preference to those much desired virtues brevity and
conciseness.
My residence--on an elevated part of the town commanding a view of the
Cuban Bay--enables me to sight vessels before they have anchored in the
harbour.
Every ship is announced to the authorities by means of signals. A signal
post is planted on the Morro Castle overlooking the sea. Another is
situated inland between the fortress and the town, while a third stands
within telescope range of the Custom-house. It is this last which, on
certain days, engrosses my attention; for by it I am made aware of the
approach of vessels long before they are visible in the bay. The signal
post is shaped like a cross, to the points of which are hoisted black
and white balls and coloured banners, by means of which the description
of the craft, together with her name and country, is made known.
In my employ is a young negro who, whenever a vessel is expected, squats
in the shade of our broad balcony, and with a telescope placed to his
left eye takes observation of the signal post. As soon as anything is
hoisted, the black sentinel reports the same to me after the following
fashion:
'Miamo, alerte! The signal is speaking.'
'What does it say, negrito?' I inquire from within.
'White ball in the centre, miamo.'
By this I know that a steamer is in sight. After a pause my negrito
informs me that the signal has added something to its last observation.
'What does it say?'
'Blue streamer to windward under white ball.'
From these appearances I gather where the steamer hails from and what
is her nationality. In the same manner I derive other information
respecting the coming craft, all of which I hasten to note down.
The sound of a gun warns me that the vessel has already entered the
harbour, six miles distant. Anon she appears cautiously steering through
the narrow winding bay; gradually disclosing first her rig, then her
colours, and lastly her name. Long before the ship has dropped anchor, I
have reached the quay, where I embark in a small canoe to meet the
moving steamer. Arrived within hailing distance of the vessel, I shout
to the purser, the supercargo, or to anybody else who may have brought
news or correspondence for me. If I succeeded in obtaining some, I land
again, and before the anchorage gun is fired, I am on my way to the
telegraph office. Here--with my dispatches before me--I compose and
forward a brief summary of news from the port whence the steamer hails,
and if there is nothing to interrupt the line of communication with
America, the _New York Trigger_ will contain my telegrams in its second
edition of the following day.
I have many difficulties to contend with in my quest of local matter in
Santiago. Some of my Cuban friends help me in my researches, and I also
pick up fragments of 'intelligence' in the cafes, the public promenade,
the warehouses, and the newspaper offices. Occasionally I hold secret
audience with an intelligent native, who volunteers some extraordinary
information on a local subject which is of no interest whatever to
anybody except my informant. Sometimes the applicant is persuaded that I
have indirect influence with the American Congress, and presses me to
communicate his grievance to the authorities in Washington. I dare not
close my ear against such applicants, for in the mass of valueless dross
which I receive, I sometimes discover a rough diamond which, after due
cutting and polishing, I dispose of to the _New York Trigger_.
For instance: an aged negro of my acquaintance comes to me one day, with
the astounding information that he, and a number of equally decrepit and
unserviceable slaves, have been killed and buried by his master. In
other words, the owners of these useless helots have hoodwinked the
slave emancipators by representing their decrepit human property as
defunct, while they substitute fresh importations in their places.
Subsequently I learn that a landing of blacks has been lately effected
near Guantanamo, and, upon a closer investigation, I gather the curious
particulars, which are these:--
The Capitan de Partido, or Major of the district, where the nefarious
transaction took place, was naively requested by the parties interested
in the landing to absent himself from the locality during a certain
week; for which simple act he would receive four or five thousand
dollars. During his absence, the landing of slaves is of course
effected; and when the authorities hear of the transaction, and
reprimand el Capitan de Partido for his want of vigilance, the latter
exonerates himself by explaining how he was unfortunately absent from
his post within the very date of the embarkation.
This is a topic of passing interest to the American people, while it
affords the _Trigger_ a text for a number of 'telling' articles relative
to slave-emancipation, in which an appeal is made to the American
Congress on the expediency of taking the colony in hand.
Many other important events transpire while I am fulfilling my duties of
correspondent to the _New York Trigger_.
Prominent among these, is the return from Santo Domingo of the Spanish
army after another unsuccessful attempt to establish a footing in that
island. In order to assure the people of Cuba that the campaign has been
attended with 'glorious' results, a public fiesta in honour of the
return of General Gandarias and his followers is celebrated in our town.
The streets are gaily decorated, and a certain cannon, which had been
captured in Montecristo by the Spaniards, is wheeled on a cart through
the streets, followed by a procession of soldiers and a band of music.
This cannon--which is a heavy-looking, unserviceable weapon of the
old-fashioned calibre--is made much of by everybody, and finally a niche
is built in a wall of the cathedral, and the 'canon de Montecristo,' as
it is henceforth derisively termed by the Cubans, is deposited in this
niche with a railing before it, and an inscription above, in which the
people of Cuba are reminded of the 'glorious campaign of Santo Domingo.'
Shortly after the appearance of the canon de Montecristo, some vessels
of war from the seat of hostilities arrive with a vast cargo of sick and
wounded Spaniards. 'The Loyal and Ever-faithful' inhabitants of Santiago
meet them on board, and some volunteer to convey the infirm soldiers to
the hospitals in town. Nicasio and I are pressed into this service by
our good friend Doctor Francisco, who is the head medical officer of the
garrison. Each soldier, as he is landed, is placed on a canvas
stretcher, provided with a couple of stout poles, and in this manner he
is borne on the shoulders of four volunteers. When all have safely
disembarked, a procession is formed, and headed by a band of music, we
march slowly through the streets in the direction of Santa Ana, where
the military hospital is situated. The distance is about two miles, and
we have to move with extreme care so as to aggravate as little as
possible the sufferings of the wounded men.
The individual whom Nicasio and I, assisted by a couple of friends, have
volunteered to convey, is the young Spanish officer Don Manuel, the
betrothed of Don Benigno's daughter. He does not appear to be seriously
wounded, for he chats pleasantly with us on the way and gives us a vivid
description of his late experiences.
Arrived at the hospital, we deposit our burthens on their respective
couches, where the poor fellows are, in due time, left to the tender
care of Doctor Francisco and his assistant surgeons.
Don Manuel is one of the first whom the doctor visits. A ball has lodged
in the young fellow's hip, but he endures his painful operation bravely.
While the ball is being extracted, Don Manuel smokes cigarettes, and
converses with those around him.
I gather from the communicative young officer much information
respecting the late war. He tells me that the Spanish soldiers acted
with their accustomed valour, and did their best to vanquish their black
opponents; but that in spite of their efforts, the enemy proved more
than a match for them. The guerilla mode of warfare adopted by the
swarthy warriors, assisted by the bad roads and impenetrable country,
together with the fatal effects of the climate, combined to defeat the
assailants, and, after many fruitless attempts, attended with
considerable losses to the Spanish army, the troops were ordered to
withdraw from the scene of hostilities.
Always with an 'eye to business,' my partner and I improve the occasion
by obtaining sundry commissions for portraits of some of the
distinguished officers who had fallen in the late campaign. One of the
more important works of this kind is a large historical picture, in
which the illustrious commander of the expedition and his staff of
officers are introduced. In order to ensure correct likenesses of the
individuals who are to figure in our painted production, photographs,
and military uniforms are supplied for our use. Many weary weeks are
devoted to this _capo d'opera,_ and when the picture is completed, it is
handsomely framed and exhibited to an admiring crowd in one of the
saloons of the governor's palace.
The war of Santo Domingo being over and forgotten, the town is again
enlivened by the arrival of the Spanish fleet fresh from Peru after the
unsatisfactory bombardment of Callao. The vessels are anchored in the
Cuban harbour and include the iron-clad steamer 'Numancia,' commanded by
Admiral Mendez Nunez; the 'Villa de Madrid' with Captain Topete on
board; the 'Resolucion' and the 'Almanza.' Our illustrious visitors are
lionised for nearly a week at the public expense. Banquets, balls and
other entertainments are given in their honour; and in acknowledgment of
these attentions, the officers of the 'Numancia,' before the fleet takes
its departure, give a grand ball on board their vessel, to which the
leading families of Santiago are invited. The upper deck of the
iron-clad is covered with a gigantic awning, and is so disguised with
flowers, tropical plants, and other adornments, that the guests can
scarcely realise the fact that they are actually on board a man-of-war.
A long supper table is laid between decks, and here the visitors are
invited to inspect the gunnery arrangements and a certain part of the
vessel which had sustained some damage during the late expedition.
From some of the officers and crew of this vessel I obtain a few
particulars relative to the bombardment of Callao, and these I hasten to
use for the benefit of the American newspaper which I serve.
Another interesting event is the attempted escape from the town jail of
upwards of two hundred prisoners. The whole town is for many days thrown
into a state of alarm, for eleven out of the number succeed in effecting
their escape. These are, however, eventually captured by the police, and
after being tried in the usual way by court-martial, are sentenced to be
shot in public. Upon the morning of the execution, there is great
excitement in town. The execution is a fearful spectacle, for the firing
has to be repeated more than once before the unfortunates are pronounced
dead. One of the victims is my former fellow-prisoner, the communicative
Indian, who, after the first shots had been fired by the soldiers,
offered to confess his sins, which he had hitherto refused to do upon
the plea that the instrument of confession was 'only a piece of crossed
wood.'