A MULATTO GIRL (_continued_).
The Slave Trade--Ermina and her Lover--Panics--'Los Insurrectos' v.
'Los Voluntaries'--A Wounded Patriot--Spanish Law and Cuban
Law--The 'Mambis'--A Promise--An Alarm--All's Well that Ends Well.
You already know how, during the early stages of the Cuban revolution,
the inhabitants of Santiago were called upon to enroll themselves as
volunteers; that those who evaded the order were regarded with
suspicion, in many cases arrested, and occasionally shot after a mock
trial; that others who preferred to abandon the town, were punished for
their want of loyalty to their rulers, who confiscated their property.
My good benefactor, Don Benigno, was too old to enlist and even more
disinclined to fight against his countrymen, the rebels; so when the
cholera broke out, he made this a pretext for escaping the vigilance of
the authorities, and fled with his family and belongings to a farm on
his sugar estate. My mother would have accompanied us, but for a
circumstance which obliged her to remain in the town. Her rightful
owner, Don Vicente, had in one day lost half his fortune; the rebels
having encamped at his principal estate and utterly despoiled it. Four
hundred negroes employed on this estate had joined the revolutionists,
and as each slave was valued, on the average, at five hundred dollars,
the loss which Don Vicente sustained may be easily estimated. To provide
against fresh losses, Don Vicente determined to sell all that still
remained to him, and embark with his family for a more peaceful country.
He hoped to realise a large amount from the sale of his town slaves, and
as my mother represented no insignificant item in this valuable
property, she was, of course, included in the list of vendibles. I was
in despair!
'Tunicu, del alma!' said I to my lover, 'if you are as devoted to me as
you profess to be, buy--borrow--beg my beloved parent; but don't let her
fall into strange hands!' My dread lest she should become the property
of an utter stranger, drove me to this appeal.
Tunicu was equal to the occasion, as he always was; whether with the
same disappointing result in view, I could not tell.
'Ermina de mi corazon!' he replied, 'I am not in a position to buy your
mother. Don Benigno has already borrowed her and must now return her. To
beg her is out of the question. But I think I have a more practical
plan. It may not agree with the laws of this country, and it must be
attended with great personal risk; but I will try it.'
I looked inquiringly.
'I am aware, 'continued Tunicu, with one of his pleasant smiles, 'that
in the course of true love it rarely happens that in order to prove his
affection for his mistress, the lover must first elope with his
lady-love's mother; but circumstances create strange situations, and
under the present circumstances, I see no other alternative than to run
away with your parent.'
Conscious of the great risk attending such an enterprise, and of the
terrible consequences which would inevitably result from an untimely
discovery, I begged that Tunicu would reveal to me his plan of
operations. But to this he objected.
'No,' said he, 'I have found of late that my outspoken projects have
exhausted themselves in words, so you must allow me, for this once, to
keep my own counsel.'
My lover's unusual reply somehow inspired me with greater confidence
than anything he had ever uttered: so, woman though I was, I determined
to restrain my curiosity.
'Whatever your plan may be, dearest Tunicu,' said I, 'I agree to it
blindly.'
'Then,' said he, 'you will also agree to our temporary separation. You
will accompany my uncle to the farm?'
To this I also, though reluctantly, acceded.
So my mother was returned to Don Vicente, with whose family she was to
reside until a purchaser was found. Tunicu remained in town; while I and
Don Benigno's family were conveyed in a covered cart drawn by oxen to
the farm-house.
We arrived opportunely. The town which we had left was, as you know,
already in a state of siege, and shortly after our departure, Count
Valmaseda's dreadful manifesto, announcing that every man, woman, and
child who should be discovered in certain districts of the country were
to be shot like dogs, was published. We dared not now venture beyond the
limits of the farm-grounds, for the report of fire-arms was continually
heard in the neighbouring woods. Don Benigno was in daily fear lest the
volunteers should visit our retreat, for he was well acquainted with the
details of their past iniquities.
Early one morning we were awakened by a negro, who hastened to the
farm-house, shouting as he came: 'Los Insurrectos! Los Insurrectos!'
'The insurgents are coming!' was the signal of alarm usually adopted by
non-combatants, because the insurgents, and not the volunteers, were
said to be the scarecrows of our island.
It was, however, 'Los Voluntaries' and not 'Los Insurrectos' this time,
for a party of volunteers were visible on a distant eminence.
Our black sentinel, however, still persisted in shouting, 'Los
Insurrectos!' The same cry was echoed by other negroes, who, with their
faces tinged with the pale green of a black's fear, came running towards
us with the information that three insurgents were riding within a mile
of our habitation. The statement proved correct, for presently three
horsemen arrived at the farm. All three were armed with revolvers, and
short swords called 'machetes,' and they were attired in brown holland
blouses, buff-coloured shoes, and Panama hats.
One of these men appeared to be suffering great bodily pain, but his
face was so besmeared with dirt and blood, that we could scarcely tell
whether he was a mulatto or a white man. The poor fellow had been
seriously wounded, and groaned in agony as Don Benigno's slaves assisted
him to dismount.
After he had been placed upon a catre in one of our apartments and
revived with a draught of aguardiente, the invalid smiled mournfully
around him, and then, to our unspeakable astonishment, inquired whether
we did not recognise in him Don Benigno's nephew!
I will not describe the scene which followed this disclosure, but I will
endeavour to repeat to you what Tunicu had now to reveal. His first
words caused me great happiness; though the strange tone in which they
were uttered seemed scarcely to correspond with the good news conveyed
in them.
'Your mother,' said he, glancing in my direction, 'is free!'
He now told us how, in spite of his efforts to steal my dear parent, Don
Vicente had succeeded in selling her to a brutal slave-trader, who
contemplated employing her as a common labourer at a coffee plantation,
and how, being aware of this, my lover determined to save her from such
a terrible fate.
Parties of young Cubans were then secretly planning expeditions into the
heart of the country, where their compatriots in arms were concealed,
and this being known to my lover, he lost no time in enrolling himself
among them. A party of these young men were on the eve of departing on
their rebellious or patriotic mission, and as my mother's new master had
already started for his plantation with his recent purchases and
half-a-dozen armed negroes, Tunicu persuaded his companions to help him
to rescue my parent. Well armed, well acquainted with the roads of their
intricate country, and mounted on fast trotting horses, the little band
of warriors followed in the track of the slave-owner, and, after some
hours of hard riding, they succeeded in overtaking him. They then
demanded, in the name of 'Cuban justice,' every slave in his possession,
declaring, that now the Cuban people had risen in defence of their
rights and for the abolition of slavery, they were no longer amenable
to Spanish law.
'We are all Cubans,' said they, 'and well armed, as you see; and we
intend to fight for both causes whenever an opportunity presents
itself.'
Hostile measures were, however, quite unnecessary in this instance. The
eloquence of my brave countrymen sufficed to create a mutiny among the
trader's black body-guard, who with one accord came over to the enemy.
In short, the slaves were all released, and their late owner, after
vowing to be avenged, rode off to the nearest garrison for the purpose
of reporting to the authorities what had happened, and, if possible,
obtain redress for the wrongs he had sustained. In the meantime the
victorious party hastened to join their brethren in arms, some of whom
were encamped in one of the strong fortifications which nature so
generously provides in our well-wooded mountains. But they had scarcely
reached this part of the country, when a battalion of volunteers, guided
by the slave-trader, went in pursuit of them.
Tunicu then described an encounter which afterwards took place between
the latter and the patriots. He said that for upwards of an hour shots
were exchanged, but with no advantage to either side; till the
slave-trader (doubtless acquainted with the roads of this intricate
country) suddenly discovered an opening in the forest. Through this
opening he, followed by a number of the volunteers, entered, and,
sheltered by the surrounding foliage and trees, took deadly aim at those
of their enemies who were exposed to their view. Many of my countrymen
fell in this cruel slaughter, and amongst them were two of the recently
captured slaves. Horrible to relate, one of these slaves was my mother.
Seeing her fall, Tunicu boldly advanced towards the spot whence the
firing proceeded, and there beheld the slave-trader who, he had no
doubt, was my parent's assassin. Without a moment's hesitation, Tunicu
shot this man dead with his revolver. A dozen rifles were levelled at
the daring fellow as he hastened to return to his companions, and
unfortunately a bullet lodged in his side.
My warlike countrymen now retreated to a safe part of the forest, and
here they remained, till the patience and the ammunition of their
assailants were exhausted.
As soon as my lover was sufficiently recovered from his wound, he was
escorted by two of his companions to Don Benigno's farm, where they duly
arrived.
How shall I describe the agony which Tunicu's narrative caused me! My
mother was indeed free, and by the hand of her own master; but alas! how
dearly was her liberty purchased! I consoled myself with the reflection
that my dear parent had been saved from a fate such as was in store for
her had she been recaptured by her owner. Our anxiety was now devoted to
my lover, who had suffered considerably from his long ride to the farm.
We were able to attend the invalid unmolested; though news reached us
that the insurrection was spreading in all directions, and we were in
constant fear that it would reach too near our retreat.
I was happier with my lover during his recovery, than I had ever been.
The perils which he had undergone for my sake seemed to have toned down
his volatile nature, and although his habit of promising had not wholly
deserted him, I had reason to be grateful for at least one sweet promise
which he made me!
'Ermina de mi alma!' said he, one evening that we were alone together,
'my uncle contemplates leaving with you all for North America, there to
remain till the revolution is over. I cannot accompany you, but we shall
meet there, and if, after your intercourse with the white society of
that country--where you will be treated as an equal--your feelings with
regard to me are unchanged, we will be married, and I will endeavour to
make your life happier than it has hitherto been.'
'Not happier than it is now,' said I.
* * * * *
'Los Insurrectos!--Los Insurrectos!'
The insurgents again? No; our swarthy sentinels were wrong this time,
for presently a dozen Spanish troopers, all armed to the teeth, galloped
into our court-yard. We were, of course, greatly alarmed at their
appearance; for we had no doubt that they had come to apprehend my
lover. We were, however, soon agreeably relieved from our anxiety on
this account, by a letter which the officer in command had brought for
Don Benigno. This letter came from his future son-in-law, Don Manuel,
who, since the commencement of the revolution, had been quartered with
his regiment at Manzanillo, not many leagues from our farm. Aware that
we had left town for Don Benigno's plantation, and conscious of the
danger which was now threatening every district in the eastern extremity
of the island, Don Manuel proposed that we should join him without delay
at Manzanillo, and thence proceed to Havana, to which the young officer
was shortly to be transferred. As yet perfect tranquillity reigned at
the Cuban capital; and 'here,' suggested Don Manuel, 'we might remain,'
under his official protection, 'until the rebellion was suppressed.'
'The rest of her story,' says Don Benigno, breaking in at this point of
it, 'is soon told. The soldiers remained with us for two or three days
while we prepared for our departure, and in the meantime they discussed
the merits of our fried bananas with boiled rice, our bacalao and
casabe, our tasajo, our chimbombo, our ajiaco and our Catalan wine.
Then, consigning my plantation to the care of my trusty major-domo, we
all left for Manzanillo, under our military escort. Shortly after our
arrival, Tunicu set sail for North America; for Don Manuel was of
opinion that unless my nephew joined the Mambis (nickname for the
rebellious party), it would not be safe for him to remain in any part of
the Ever-faithful Isle. But we hope to meet him there, and, meanwhile we
intend to practise those virtues of patience and amiability which have
hitherto served us so well--eh, mi Ermina? My daughter's marriage will
soon be celebrated, and after the nuptials some of us will, I hope--si
Dios quiere--depart for the great city of New York.'