THE JOURNEY TO PORT LA GLORIA.
The newly arrived colonists found the Spanish word "mañana" still in
high favor at Nuevitas, though it was difficult to fix the
responsibility for the irritating delays. The Cubans and the officers of
the company alike came in for a good deal of straight-from-the-shoulder
Yankee criticism. Some of this was deserved, but not all. The company's
officers had been handicapped in many ways, and for this and perhaps
other reasons, had not pushed things along as rapidly and successfully
as the colonists had been led to expect. It was learned that the town of
La Gloria was as yet only a town in name, the foundation of its first
building, the hotel, having just been laid. The lumber for the structure
lay on the docks at Nuevitas. The company's portable sawmill machinery
was rusting in the open air at the same place. If the colonists marveled
at this, their wonder disappeared when, a little later, they tramped and
waded the four miles of so-called "road" that lay between Port La
Gloria and La Gloria "city". Nothing daunted by these discouraging signs
and the many unfavorable reports, the most of the colonists determined
to push ahead.
Arriving at Nuevitas Thursday noon, January 4, the passengers of the
_Yarmouth_ were not allowed to leave the vessel that day or evening.
Many were desirous of exploring the ancient city of Nuevitas, but the
most frequent and anxious inquiry was, "When shall we be taken to La
Gloria?". It was a hard question to answer, and no one in authority
attempted to do so. There were several causes contributing to the delay,
one of which was the customs inspection and another the question of
transportation. Communication between Nuevitas and La Gloria was neither
easy nor regular. The overland route was the nearest, about forty miles,
but could only be utilized by a person on foot or horseback. At the time
of our arrival this way was entirely impracticable by any mode of
travel. The inside or shallow water route was about forty-eight miles
long, and the outside or deep water course, sixty miles. The officers of
the company decided upon the latter as the most feasible, and set out to
procure lighters to convey the colonists and their baggage. This was no
easy matter, as the business had to be done with Cubans, and Cubans are
never in any hurry about coming to terms.
Friday morning the passengers of the _Yarmouth_ were permitted to go
ashore and wake up the inhabitants of the sleepy city, each person
paying some thrifty Cuban twenty-five cents for transportation thither
in a sailboat. The Cuban boatmen coined money during our three days'
stay in Nuevitas harbor. So also did the fruit venders, who came out to
the steamer in small boats and sold us pineapples, tiny fig bananas, and
green oranges at exorbitant prices. The fruit looked inferior, but the
flavor was good. Most of it grew without care, and in a semi-wild
condition. The colonists were eager to sample any fruit of the country,
as most of them were intending to make fruit growing their business. The
"Americanos" succeeded in waking up Nuevitas in some degree, and at
night a few of them set out to "paint the town red". Only a few,
however; the great majority behaved remarkably well. The day was spent
in quietly inspecting the city and its surroundings. Many of the
visitors bought needed supplies at the small stores.
Saturday was passed in the same way as Friday, the only incident of note
being a small-sized disturbance which took place at the pier near
midnight. Three belated Americans, who had done more than look upon the
"aguardiente", got into a quarrel with a Cuban boatman in regard to
their return to the _Yarmouth_. The Americans were mainly at fault, the
boatman was obstinate, and a war of words was soon followed by blows.
The boatman was getting the worst of the scrimmage when several of the
Cuban police swooped down upon the party. Two of the Americans drew
revolvers, but they were quickly disarmed and overcome, one of the trio,
who wore the uniform of the United States army, which he had lately
quitted, falling over into the harbor in the scuffle. This sudden and
unexpected ducking ended the fight; the "Americanos" compromised with
the boatman, and were allowed to return to the _Yarmouth_. These
intending colonists did not remain long at La Gloria, although one of
the three purposes to return. The conduct of the Cuban police upon this
occasion, and upon all others which came under my notice, was entirely
creditable. They dress neatly, are sober and inoffensive in manner, and
appear to perform their duties conscientiously and well.
While we lay in Nuevitas harbor we received several visits from Gen. A.
L. Bresler and the Hon. Peter E. Park, president and resident manager,
respectively, of the Cuban Land and Steamship Company, both of whom had
been stopping in the city for some time. They had acquired the Cuban
dress and, to some extent, Cuban habits. Mr. Park decided to accompany
the colonists to La Gloria, and to share with them all the hardships
that they might encounter on the journey. It was no new thing for Mr.
Park to make the trip. He had made it slowly along the coast in a small
sailboat; he had made it in quicker time in a steam launch, and he had
sometimes gone overland on horseback, struggling through mud and water
and tangled vines, swimming swollen rivers and creeks, and fighting
swarms of aggressive mosquitoes in the dense woods. He knew exactly what
was before him; the colonists did not. General Bresler, strange to say,
had never been at La Gloria.
It was on Sunday afternoon, at a little past one o'clock, that the
colonists finally got away from Nuevitas and made the start for La
Gloria. The fleet consisted of three small schooners loaded with light
baggage, a little freight, and nearly two hundred passengers. Two of the
boats were Nuevitas lighters, with Cuban captains and crew, while the
third was a schooner from Lake Worth, Florida, carrying about twenty
colonists from that state. This boat, known as the _Emily B._, had
arrived at Nuevitas a day or two before the _Yarmouth_. Among her
passengers were four or five women. The heavy baggage of the _Yarmouth_
colonists was loaded upon yet another lighter, which was to follow
later.
The colonists embarked upon the sailing craft from the decks of the
_Yarmouth_, leaving behind a score or more of their number whose
backbone had collapsed or who for some other reason had decided to
return home immediately. It is, I believe, a veritable fact that more
than one of the intending colonists went back on the same boat without
so much as setting foot on the soil of Cuba. Probably examples of the
"chocolate éclair" backbone are to be found everywhere. One of the
returning voyagers was a tall, thin man of middle age, wearing a long,
red, sorrowful face. It had been apparent from the very start that his
was an aggravated case of home-sickness. He had shown unmistakable
evidence of it before the _Yarmouth_ had even left North river, and he
did not improve as the vessel approached the coast of Cuba. He rarely
spoke to anybody, and could be seen hour after hour kneeling in a most
dejected attitude upon a cushioned seat in the main saloon, gazing
mournfully out of the window at the stern across the broad waters. His
was about the most striking example of sustained melancholy that ever
came under my observation, and could not seem other than ridiculous in
that company. When we slowly moved away from the _Yarmouth_, I was not
surprised to see this man standing silently upon the steamer's deck. The
look of unillumined dejection was still upon his face. A man whose face
does not light up under the subtle charm of the Cuban atmosphere is,
indeed, a hopeless case, and ought not to travel beyond the limits of
the county wherein lies his home. There were others who remained behind
on the _Yarmouth_ for better reasons. Mr. and Mrs. Crandall returned to
New York because the company's sawmill, which he was to operate, had not
been taken to La Gloria and was not likely to be for some time to come.
Mrs. Crandall was the only woman passenger on the voyage down and had
been fearfully seasick all the way. Orders had been given that no women
or children should be taken on this first excursion, but an exception
was made in the case of Mrs. Crandall because she was the wife of an
employé of the company.
The departing colonists waved their good-bys to the _Yarmouth_, and the
little fleet was towed out to the entrance of Nuevitas harbor, about ten
miles, when the schooners came to anchor and the tugboat returned to the
city. Although it was but little past three o'clock and the weather
fine, the passengers learned to their dismay that the boats had anchored
for the night. The furrowed-faced old captain would take no chances with
the open sea at night and so would proceed no farther. "To-morrow--four
o'clock--wind right--go!" he said, with a dramatic gesture and what
seemed to the colonists an unnecessarily explosive emphasis on the last
word.
The boats were anchored in the narrow entrance to the harbor, where the
smooth-running tide closely resembled a river. On one bank, one hundred
yards away, were an old stone fort and a few Cuban shacks. Some of the
passengers were desirous of going ashore to see the fort and the houses,
but neither entreaties nor bribes could force the old Cuban captain to
allow the use of his small boats. The Cubans are fond of waiting and
cannot appreciate American restlessness. So we were obliged to sit
quietly and gaze wistfully at the green-clad shore. As night came on, it
was found that loaves of bread and large chunks of salt beef constituted
the larder. It was poor fare, but the colonists accepted the situation
cheerfully and broke bread and ate as much of the greasy meat as they
could.
It was a radiant evening, with soft, caressing breezes and a star-lit
sky of incomparable beauty. Many of the voyagers saw the famed Southern
Cross for the first time and gazed at it long in silent contemplation,
overcome by that delicious feeling of dreamy content which takes
possession of one in the tropics. On one of the boats, religious
services were held, conducted by a Georgia clergyman, the Rev. A. E.
Seddon of Atlanta, one of the most enthusiastic and uncomplaining of the
colonists. The singing of hymns was joined in by many of the
eighty-seven passengers on the boat, and prayers were offered by no less
than four individuals. It was a singularly impressive scene, not
altogether unlike what took place on board the _Mayflower_ centuries
before.
The peaceful evening was followed by a night of great discomfort. The
passengers were crowded together, and many slept, or attempted to sleep,
on boxes, barrels, or the lumber which formed a part of the cargo of the
schooner. I slept, at intervals, on the lumber designed for the hotel at
La Gloria. Often had I slept in hotels, but this was my first experience
in sleeping _on_ one. Some of the passengers on the schooners sat up all
night in preference to lying upon boxes and lumber. We were not,
however, without entertainment during that long, wearisome night. We had
a philosopher among us, in the person of quaint old Benjamin
Franklin--of Griffin's Corners, New York--who talked earnestly and
eloquently upon his appalling experiences in Confederate military
prisons many years before. The handful of soldiers of the Spanish war
were modestly silent in the presence of this gaunt old veteran of the
great civil strife. Judge Groesbeck, of Washington, D. C., quoted poetry
and told anecdotes and stories, while the Rev. Mr. Seddon, Dr. W. P.
Peirce of Hoopeston, Ill., and others, contributed their share to the
conversation. As we became drowsy, we could hear, now and again, some
one of our companions giving an imitation of the Cuban captain:
"To-morrow--four o'clock--wind right--go!".
[Illustration: AN INVOLUNTARY BATH.]
Early in the morning, true to his word, the captain set sail, and as the
wind was right good progress was made. One of the diverting incidents of
the morning was the fall of the captain overboard. In the crowded
condition of the boat, he lost his footing and went over backward into
the water. He scrambled back again in a hurry, with a look of deep
disgust upon his rather repulsive face, but the inconsiderate
"Americanos" greeted him with a roar of laughter. One enterprising
amateur photographer secured a snapshot of him as he emerged dripping
from his involuntary bath. A little later one of the Cubans caught a
handsome dolphin, about two feet and a half long. The crew cooked it and
served it up at ten cents a plate. As our schooner, drawing five feet of
water, entered the inlet about fifteen miles from the port of La Gloria,
she dragged roughly over the rocky bottom for some distance and came
perilously near suffering misfortune. The other schooners came in
collision at about this time and a panic ensued. No serious damage
resulted, however. It was between twelve and one o'clock that afternoon
that the port of La Gloria was sighted.