To walk upon the beach and see the bright golden waves rolling beneath
our feet on a sunny day, and hear the gentle surge moving like the soft
cadence of dying echoes, creates in us a desire to be wafted into other
climes, where we can see untold wonders, and be regaled with something
new to feast our senses. It was from the promptings of a restless spirit
that we embarked on a fine sailing vessel for Cuba as the morning tide
was receding. An escort of sea-gulls, with their white pinions and
unwearied wings, followed us far from land, as messengers of peace,
wishing us a _bon voyage_.
We soon commenced to feel contented in our isolated moving habitation,
with its strong canvas buoying us up in the breeze, like a huge bird of
passage in its aërial flight, and we looked out on the "waste of waters"
as only an untried experiment, about which very fearful things had been
said, but not so bad after all. While we were watching for new wonders,
the sun sunk into the sea, and the stars came out one by one from their
canopied homes in the blue sky, the larger, brighter ones rising first,
like the stronger spirits in life, which leave their beds with the dawn,
to make preparation for the feebler little footsteps that now open their
eyes
[Illustration: PORTUGUESE MAN-OF-WAR]
timidly on the great world into whose magnitude and mysteries they are
just entering. The monotony of a sea-voyage is always broken by the
daily revolutions of the earth on its axis, if not more stirring events.
Our second morning at sea the winds and waves were hushed quietly as the
calm which pervades a sinner's sensibilities when the angel of peace
first speaks comfort to his sin-burdened soul. Our sails hang loosely as
a gambler's conscience, while the surge swings us around freely without
taking us forward. The spars squeak, twist, and groan, as though in
distress at our condition. The sailors are busy tying up ropes, mending
sails, and climbing about in the rigging like cats. A kind of sea-polyp,
_Physalia utriculus_, or Portuguese men-of-war, which move passively on
the surface of the water, have been in sight all day, with their bubble
sails of rainbow hue, supported by emerald hulls, with their anchors
steadying them in their swift, uncertain voyage over the sea. How
fragile and ethereal they look! These little creatures only trim their
sails in fine weather, but when the wind blows they descend into more
quiet quarters. The sailors look with suspicion upon their movements, as
they say their appearance indicates foul weather. They present a concave
surface above the water of three or four inches that is guided by purple
rudder-bands, which descend about two feet into the sea. These filaments
are very poisonous when handled--the sailors, while in bathing, being
sometimes stung by them, which is accompanied with a very painful
burning sensation, like the nettle. They may be classed among the many
other curious and wonderful beings that inhabit the great deep, of which
we know but little or nothing.
The old tars have been singing to-day,
Mackerel skies and mares' tails
Make lofty ships take in their sails.
Last night, as we were retiring, the sky was banking up black clouds,
which indicates a nor'-wester. Now, when we look across the crested
surface of the deep, dark sea, our thoughts are too sacred for
bosom-confidants, and too serious to bear much sounding by ourselves,
being shadowed by forebodings, not unmixed with melancholy, when we
think on the fate of many who have sailed before us. Our rough old
captain, who commences his day's duties before sunrise by giving the
steward a cursing for what he has done or left undone, as a kind of
recreation when he is drinking his coffee, has been giving his oracle,
the barometer, some mysterious looks all day.
The sun has gone to her home in the west, and we now feel that a night
of darkness--it may be destruction--has drawn her deepest shadows over
us. The wind is blowing a gale, above which is heard at the wheel aft
the same cross old captain screaming his orders through the
storm-trumpet, which sound dismal as death: "Lower the foresail!" "Take
down the topsails!" "Put out a watch!" "Let her drive before the wind!"
Old Neptune has commenced his fearful frolics in earnest, rolling the
white caps in every direction. The vessel has commenced plunging
through a trackless pathway, while the sea boils like a pot.
And whistling o'er the bending mast,
Loud sings the fresh'ning blast.
It is when messengers from the realms of King Storm are abroad in the
land--when the sea rises at his call, and the winds meet from their
hidden coverts, to exercise their strength and contend for victory--that
the poetry of sailing on deep water vanishes, and we look stern reality
in the face, and feel the danger of being swallowed up, which
overbalances all the adventurous spirit for sight-seeing.
The tempest which was now shrieking and howling in its fury bore no
resemblance to any thing disagreeable enough by which a comparison could
be made, except falling clods upon the coffin of an only friend and
protector, or the click of a pistol that sends a soul into eternity. In
imagination I could hear the gnashing teeth of fighting fiends, in
reality the roaring thunders, threatening with their stunning proximity,
while torrents of water were descending--thus bringing a yawning abyss
before us under circumstances of appalling nearness, when the sea, in
its fiercest moments of fury, has often plunged the ship and mariners
into an open chasm, with cold, cruel waves for a winding-sheet, while
the winds sung a requiem. It was an epoch in the history of my life,
when I felt my grasp upon tangible substance weakening, and at any
moment that I might be hurled into that shoreless, fathomless depth,
from whose uncertain soundings and unexplored domains there would be no
return. As the wind increased the sea commenced washing over decks,
which movement would not be mistaken, for purling streams meandering
through green lawns and "flowery meads." The pantry contributed its
share to the general din--the plates all falling down, the tumblers,
cups, and bowls, never ceasing to roll over--at the same instant a big
wave coming in washed the tinware from the galley, while the cook-stove,
with its legs nailed fast to the floor, remained a mute spectator. The
chairs gathered in groups and skated across the oil-cloth at each lurch
of the vessel. Nothing revealed those terrible troughs in the sea before
us but the vivid lightning, which also enabled the sailors to see the
spars, and keep a portion of the sails reefed. The deep waters resembled
liquid mountains piled in pyramidal forms, dissolving like dew with
every wind that passed, at which we were not dismayed while the vessel
could leap over them. Meanwhile there came a heavy sea that shipped down
the gangway and commenced washing out the cabin--at the same instant a
gust extinguished the binnacle lamp. As a precautionary movement, to
keep the mast from being jerked out, the foresheet was secured. The
beating billows, rattling chains, and inky darkness, combined, were
suggestive of a passage contained in the Epistle of Jude, where the
fallen spirits are spoken of as "reserved in everlasting chains under
darkness unto the judgment of the great day." The hour of midnight, when
the clock shall have struck twelve, is looked for with much solicitude
during a gale. How the men worked! How the pumps groaned! Our vessel
was only a toy with which the waves were playing as a pastime, whose
angry waves we were willing to appease by a promise that we would come
no more, if only spared from a dive beneath their surface. Storms and
adversity are both great levelers in life. How all social barriers of
distinction vanish as we feel our dependence upon the roughest tar that
climbs the mast at sea, or rolls like a swine in the gutter on shore!
With what eagerness we notice every movement of the officers in times of
peril, and listen for their foot-fall on deck, or the rustle of their
rough-weather tarpaulins, as they walk through the cabin, watching to
see that fire does not break out from the lamps, or spontaneous
combustion take place in the hold, which then severs the last gleam of
hope, except that which awaits us beyond a grave in the sea when we sink
beneath the waves, where all is peace! While we are certain a commander,
in times of danger, will do all in his power to save the lives of those
on board, is it not then we should lean on that One all-powerful to aid,
and feel for the Hand "that holds the waters in its hollow?" A little
after midnight the captain, worn out with his duties, "had turned in."
The winds seemed to lull, and except very heavy seas, a fair prospect of
peace overshadowed us. However, we soon afterward found we had been
nursing a delusion, as a little before 2 A.M. the breeze freshened; it
came in gusts, increasing in severity, and the vessel becoming
unmanageable, the captain was called on deck, while the mate rushed
forward to take in sail. He had proceeded but a short distance when a
heavy sea struck the ship, and the bow-hatches were five feet under
water, with the mate swimming against the deck-railings, and the
trumpet-toned commands issued to a powerless crew. It was a fearful
moment, never to be forgotten in the history of a lifetime, when all
hopes, joys, sorrows, and past recollections, are merged into an instant
of time, to be swept away by a breath.
A little after daybreak we sighted an English vessel on her course for
South America. She sailed swiftly, never stopping to tell us the danger
she had passed, as a chopped sea was running, which denoted the expiring
struggle through which it was passing in trying to calm its fury. The
sun rose at last, and our rent sails were all that told the perils we
had encountered; for the same Voice that could command "the winds and
the sea" to obey was with us, and we were saved.
About midday we passed the Isle of Pines, whose proximity our quadrant
indicated before we saw it. In making for the south side of Cuba, this
land is all we see during the passage. It is said rain falls here when
the weather is pleasant in every other place--to which is attributable
its unusual appearance of verdure and its fine streams of fresh water,
which first attracted the attention of the early Spanish settlers. The
large amount of rain which falls here is accounted for by the
trade-winds in these seas blowing from the north-east. Marble and jasper
of various colors are found on this island. It was formerly frequented
by pirates, the last of whom was Bernardo del Soto, who was a Spaniard,
and commanded the band. They named their cruising-ship the "Pinta,"
which in Spanish implies a point. Their closing exploit was robbing and
destroying the brig Mexican, near Cape San Antonio. All the crew were
murdered except two, who were spared on condition they would join the
pirates. These two unfortunate survivors afterward escaped to the United
States, when they gave information in regard to their companions who had
been so cruelly murdered, and also the rendezvous of these high-sea
pirates, which led to their capture by the brig Summers. The buccaneers
were taken to Boston, and tried for murder, of which they were all
convicted and executed, except the commander, whose wife came from Cuba
and interceded with President Van Buren, that the life of her husband
might be spared. Her entreaties were not unavailing, and his existence
was prolonged, only to reward her solicitude by murdering her in a fit
of passion, for which crime he soon atoned with his life.
_Mexican Gulf._--Soon after dinner we noticed an unusual appearance in
the sky, like fog and mist. The sailors, with a terrified look, were
standing in a group together on deck, while the captain took the helm. A
storm on ship-board, strange as it may appear, develops more profanity
than reverence among sailors; but water-spouts are something with which
they never presume to trifle. Two of these were plainly visible. One
passed aft the vessel, missing it about fifteen feet; the other
presented a most peculiar phenomenon, which is said to be caused by the
reciprocal attraction of the cloud above and the sea beneath. The water
rises toward the cloud, which elongates itself in the form of a tube to
meet and receive the fluid below--this ascending column resembling in
form a speaking-trumpet, with its base uppermost. They were called
_presters_ by the ancients, which word in the Greek denotes an igneous
fluid--the more singular on account of those who applied the term having
no knowledge of electricity. These terrible missiles of destruction
often annihilate every thing in their pathway, although only a few drops
of water reached us from these. They are fearful objects, unlike most
others which come clothed in darkness, they being only veiled in thin
mist, rising like a mysterious presence from the depths of the sea to
join the forces in the air, thus making the combined influences doubly
formidable. The ship had been tacked to port side just as the
water-spouts had been discovered, and we were sailing southward away
from them. They may be properly termed "sea-cyclones, carrying up drops
of water which they have separated from the surface of the waves." The
beauty, terror, and grandeur accompanying these visitants can never be
imagined by one who has not witnessed them, much less definitely
described by a terrified spectator. The sun shone brightly during the
time, as though the storm-fiend was not abroad in his chariot, riding
swiftly on wings of wind, ready to hurl the missiles of death at any
hapless mariner who crossed its pathway. Ever shall I remember how
utterly undone those poor sin-hardened, rough sailors appeared while
waiting for orders that would give expression to their feelings, no
words coming from those uncultured lips which could furnish any
conception of their mental agitation.
_Cuba_, February 28.--The most precious jewel of the Antilles is the
Isle of Cuba, which we are now approaching. It is about seven hundred
and ninety miles in length, its greatest width being one hundred and
seven miles. The mountains add beauty and boldness to its scenery, the
highest elevation on the island being about eight thousand feet. It was
first discovered by the famous Columbus, in 1492, but not conquered from
the Indians until 1511, at which time the Spaniards killed nearly five
hundred thousand of the natives. From the following well-authenticated
account we may be enabled to form some idea of the barbarity which
characterized these movements: "One morning, as the Spaniards were tying
an Indian cazique to the stake for the purpose of burning him alive, a
Franciscan Friar approached, and informed him that if he would embrace
their religion he should go to heaven, but if not he must burn in hell
forever. The prince then asked him if there were any Spaniards in
heaven. The friar responded in the affirmative--to which he replied, 'If
that be so, I would rather be with the demons in hell than the Spaniards
in heaven; for their cruelty is such that none can be more miserable
than where they are.'" The cause of the Indians being so cruelly
destroyed by the Spaniards was their covetous wish to possess the entire
island, with its supposed wealth in silver and gold. Unfortunately,
after they had murdered the Indians, their visionary dreams of vast
fortunes were never realized, as very little precious metal was
discovered, which many have supposed was a judgment on them for their
cruelty.
The soil in Cuba is itself a mine of wealth, on which can be produced
from five to seven crops yearly, spring-time and harvest continuing all
the season. There are mines of copper ore here, from which the early
settlers made their cannon.
About two hundred miles from Cape San Antonio Light, upon the south side
of Cuba, is an entrance called Fernandina Del Jauga Bay, the coast being
lined with rocks of a coral formation. Ten miles from the Mexican Gulf,
at the head of this bay, surrounded by a country of unsurpassed
fertility, is the city of Cienfuegos, named in honor of the general to
whom its present prosperity is in a great measure attributable. The fort
which guards the entrance to this town impresses us with its entire
inefficiency to resist an attack from our modernized implements of
warfare, or to even make a show of strength for any length of time
during a siege. One lone sentinel rushes upon the parapet, and presents
arms, when a vessel approaches, as though he had a hundred-pound ball,
which could be sent with sufficient force to sink any ship that should
make an attempt to enter the port. The harbor upon which the town is
situated is commodious and safe. Two gun-boats are anchored here, which,
judging from their shape and size, look as though they would require
assistance to advance, but are said to make six miles an hour when
under full headway. They are not regarded as formidable by military men.
The report from the guns would, no doubt, be more demoralizing than the
effect. The houses in the city are built mostly of brick and concrete.
They have no yards in front, the walls of the residences being even with
the streets, only a narrow sidewalk sometimes intervening. The buildings
are painted blue or green, straw-color, and white--the doors being
differently colored from the houses. The windows have no glass, as it
would make the dwellings warmer, and the ladies could not look from the
folds of their curtains into the streets so easily without being seen as
they do now. The windows are protected by iron rods and bars, which give
them a cage-like appearance--the houses have no chimneys or fire-places,
and the apartments are furnished in a very simple manner. The floors are
made of marble and tiles--the carpet is only a large rug in the center
of the room, upon each side of which are placed two rows of chairs, most
of them being willow-work rocking chairs; also a center-table and sofa,
with a willow back and seat, sometimes a piano, embrace the list of
parlor fixtures. At night the doors and windows are thrown open for
ventilation, the rooms being lighted by gas chandeliers--every thing can
be seen, even to the beds on which the family sleep. The bedsteads are
made of iron, and are very light, upon which is placed a wooden frame
with a piece of canvas tacked across it. There are no mattresses or
feather-beds used. A sheet of Canton-flannel is the first appearance of
bedding, over which are spread linen sheets of snowy whiteness, pillows
filled with cotton or moss--the whole being overhung with pink and
white-lace curtains, to keep out the musquitoes, that never leave on
account of climatic changes. But few of the dwellings are more than one
story high. If the ancient Spanish custom were to be observed here--that
the rent of the first floor was for the king--there would be no income
left to the owners. Many of these structures have ceilings twenty feet
in height. They build them as airy as possible, and afterward dedicate
them to the god of the winds, whose presence is many times oftener
invoked than received. However, the land-breeze at night, and the
sea-breeze during the day, render the climate more delightful than can
be imagined by one who has never visited here. In this locality days and
weeks steal imperceptibly away, leaving no visible impress except a
feeling of repose, as though earth had no cares or pains which would
ever torture our minds again with their unwelcome visitations. The great
amount of leisure every one appears to command is really surprising. The
rich enjoy their condition to the fullest extent of the term--no titled
lords or ladies have more courtly grace and elegant manners. The poor
ape the rich in their movements, as though it were undignified to be
brisk, or manifest any haste, going about quietly as though at peace
with all the world. Every thing in their houses is exceedingly neat, the
lower part being stuccoed several feet from the base with designs, no
doubt intended as the escutcheons of royalty. The floors are also laid
in tiles, ornamented with flowers of sapphire color, being connected
with each other by patterns which, when in position, are plainly seen.
May not these be identified with the sapphire foundations of which the
Prophet Isaiah speaks? Among the recent discoveries made in the Moorish
ruins of Italy are also found similar floors.
It is a novelty to look in the houses and see the family circles
gathered in their homes, all smoking and talking but the babies. The
cares of life apparently rest very lightly on them, while their clothing
is more airy than all--the little baby-girls with only a pair of
ear-rings, the boys dressed in the shadow of the nurse, or night falling
softly on them. What a multitude of unformed thoughts enter our minds as
we look at the novel sights appearing before us, where only a foreign
language is sounding in our ears! They all speak the Spanish, which is
derived mostly from the Latin, and resembles it, except some words from
the Arabic, which came into use with them after Spain was conquered by
the Moors. The pantomimic efforts made by salesmen and servants, in
trying to make us comprehend that they would like to be attentive and
please us, is very amusing. The marketer explains the price of his
fruits by showing us a corresponding piece of silver. If we shake our
heads, he reduces the amount, and writes it down in figures. Although we
can feast our eyes on the various scenes which come before us while in
Cuba, we must remember the natives are looking at us, uttering a jargon
of words, not much of which we can comprehend, except _Americano_ and
_sombrero_, which implies that we are Americans, and wear hats. The
Spanish ladies wear veils, the men only wearing hats.
Cruelty to seamen while in Cuban ports is an evil which needs reforming.
The vessels in whose service they are engaged are mostly from a frozen
clime, that return loaded with cargoes of sugar and molasses. The change
of climate to a person of leisure is very perceptible, but when required
to perform the heaviest of labor under a tropical sun, it is too
overpowering--it is cruelty! The sailor is frequently sent aloft to
grease the mast at midday, when he is overpowered by heat, and drops on
the decks, gasps once, and is gone! Poor fellow! Only a man! There is an
Irishwoman living in Cienfuegos, called by the sailors "Mother Carey,"
and the duped sailors her chickens. She is married to a Spaniard, and
keeps a Sailor's Home, or saloon. She employs runners to inveigle
mariners into her shop, and then for fifty cents' worth of whisky will
take a good pair of boots, or any kind of clothing, from the stupid
wretches. After robbing them in this unfeeling manner she turns them
out, to find their way back to the ship as best they can. The sailor has
few inducements for doing right, but the avenues for his destruction are
never closed night or day.
Cuba has been on the altar for sacrifice several years. The United
States have been looking for some time toward the event of its severance
from Spain, when it would gravitate toward her for protection. The
present movement is being made because the people have no voice in their
own government; they are overburdened with taxes to support declining
royalty from Spain, for the purpose of making laws and administering
them. Would an embassy of Americans, with authority from Washington, be
more acceptable to the Cubans than their present rulers? Does our
administration now evince that efficiency, justice, and prowess to
protect the unprotected, and strengthen the weak, which would encourage
a feeble foreign principality to seek an asylum beneath the "stars and
stripes," where a shelter free from discord and contention could be
furnished as a refuge in times of danger? Does not the successful
warfare in which it has been engaged for a number of years indicate the
first fundamental principles of self-government and defense? How
terrible the fate of all insurgents when captured, at the sight of which
humanity sickens! and yet they neither appear intimidated nor appalled.
The victim for execution is led out at the dawn of day, with no escort
but the priest and executioner. Upon his bended knees he repeats his
prayers after the padre. The condemned man is then shot in the back, his
head cut off, his body thrown in a cart, and carried to a pit, where it
is tumbled in and left. No words of extenuation, no excuse or quarter,
is tolerated for an instant.
Within twenty miles of Cienfuegos, among the mountains, there has
numbered a force of rebels somewhere in the vicinity of twelve thousand.
Their movements show both strategy and strength--their mode of warfare
the guerilla. Over a month since four hundred troops were landed here
from Spain, and shortly afterward ordered into an engagement, or to make
an attack upon the insurgents. They were not regulars--some of them
beardless youths. When the fray was over, it is said but one escaped,
because he had a better horse than his pursuers. The destruction of this
force was only a before-breakfast pastime for the rebels. They are now
constantly making incursions upon the planters, firing fields of cane,
sugar-mills, and, before the work of destruction is half finished, they
are miles away, strewing desolation wherever they pass. The Cuban
rebellion is no longer of infantile growth; the entire inefficiency of
the volunteers, who go racing about the country, is plainly to be seen.
Every thing pertaining to military movements is shrouded with an air of
mystery. When the wounded and dying are brought in on the cars, guards
are placed at the doors--no person but surgeons admitted, no questions
answered, or satisfaction given to outsiders. It is shocking to see a
country of such luxuriance and beauty fall a prey to the unrelenting
hand of war, which gluts itself with human gore, and is only satiated
when the fiend of destruction has no more blood to shed, or conquests to
make.
"La Purisima Conception" is the name of the only church in the city. It
has two towers and ten bells. The tallest tower was erected to contain a
clock, and afterward the church was built around it, thus rendering the
style of architecture any thing but imposing. The materials used are
stone and brick, with marble floors. It is singular to see a people
among whose progenitors in Spain the Christian religion was first
planted by the apostles themselves, cherish so little zeal in regard to
the observance of its ordinances in any way. The congregation outside is
larger than the number of worshipers inside, on Sabbath morning. The men
stand about the entrance, and make remarks about those going into
church, as though they were engaged in the path of duty. Their conduct
is a reminder that the chivalric days of elegant address and lordly
demeanor are passing away from the Spanish people who reside this side
of the water. At 8 o'clock A.M. the best society residents come out to
worship. In a population of ten thousand souls a goodly number might be
expected to witness the imposing ceremonial of a high mass on Sabbath
morning. The church has an elegant interior, the architecture being
Doric, the arched roof supported by numerous pilasters. At the terminus
of the nave is placed the grand altar, ornamented with images of
dazzling brightness and golden candlesticks of gigantic proportions,
containing immense wax candles, which, when lighted, shed a star-like
luster. There are also eight other altars of less dimensions, where the
more humble kneel to receive consolation. The priest looks as ancient as
the religion he represents, and chants mass with an intonation that
would be creditable to one less in years. With fine music, choice
paintings from Spanish and Italian masters, representing saints preceded
by a record of unsullied purity, upon which were beaming subdued rays of
light through stained glass of rare design and workmanship, besides all
that could be attractive in a church and service combined, there were
only about fifty persons present, including white and black. The edifice
was designed to seat only a few of the congregation. A noticeable
peculiarity in attending worship here is that each lady-worshiper is
accompanied by a servant, who carries a low cane-seated chair for her
mistress to occupy during service, and an elegant rug made of long, soft
cashmere goat's hair, beautifully dyed, which is placed in front of the
chair. On this mat the mistress kneels to repeat her devotional
exercises, with an ease which would have been considered quite
sacrilegious by St. Francis, or any of those old hair-shirt-wearing
friars. The servant in attendance, if young, kneels by the side of her
mistress upon the marble tiles, where she is expected to repeat all the
prayers connected with the ritual. If she is seen gazing about, as an
admonition to give attention to her religious duties, she receives a tap
on the head from her mistress's hand, which causes her lips to move
again, and her eyes to cease their voyages of discovery. Old servants
kneel behind their mistress, and go through the forms of worship as a
religious duty and safeguard against sin. At 11 o'clock A.M. the poor
people attend church in the same place; the heat is too fervent for the
rich to venture out then. Spiritual consolation is a commodity not much
sought after in this market by rich or poor, if the numbers in
attendance are any criterion. What few are assembled go through the
service in a hurried, business-like manner, which has no soul in it.
The plaza in Cienfuegos is the largest on the island. It is kept in
order by the coolies--a race of people brought from the mountains of
Asia, which forms the most numerous servile population in the country.
At night it is the scene of a grand display, or military parade. The
band comes from the barracks, surrounded by a military escort, near
which no one is permitted to pass. The guards are all extremely tall,
dark, well-formed men, being of Moorish origin. While on duty they stand
as mute and motionless as statuary, with their guns pointing upward, but
ready for instant action at the word of command. It is here the chill
winds never come, and drape the foliage in somber hues--the flowers are
always blooming, sweet as dreams borne on angels' wings. To this plaza,
at night, the entire population of the city resort for recreation, and
to breathe the fresh air. The grounds are divided into parterres, laid
out at right angles, through which are wide avenues, paved with flat
rocks. In the center is a fountain and grotto, near which are four
marble statues representing the seasons. No fabled habitation of the
genii, or enchanting description of the Isle of Calypso, could fill the
imagination with more delightful emotions than the real scene before us.
The bright moonbeams come stealing softly through the scarlet hibiscus,
and feathery palms wave their graceful wands above our heads, while the
most gentle zephyrs fan our brows with their blandest breeze, and every
thing seems tipped with silver sheen, and too unreal for earth. The gay
and beautiful señoritas soon commence promenading, many of them dressed
in white, with long, starched trains to their robes, and skirts that
swept over the paved boulevards with a rushing sound, like the waves
plashing against a vessel, although the accompaniment of shuffling
sandals and slip-shod slippers of the men make a grinding noise nothing
suggestive of grace or elegance. The music soon struck up, with its most
fascinating strains; everybody seemed to partake of its harmonious
cadence, and commenced moving about with the grace of sylphs. The
soldiers and police, with their _brusquiere_ movements, were the only
ones present not given up to the most perfect _abandon_ for enjoyment.
Among other choice and beautiful pieces, the band played _Il Trovatore_.
The melody seemed intensified by the same pathos that seized the mind of
the great composer when he wrote it; and as its sounds died away among
the moonbeams and perennial foliage, while its echoes lingered in the
air, the surroundings appeared too beautiful for any thing but the
culmination of all on earth that might be termed grand.