Political Inquisition. -- Fashionable Streets of the City. --
Tradesmen's Signs. -- Bankrupt Condition of Traders. -- The
Spanish Array. -- Exiled Patriots. -- Arrival of Recruits. --
The Garrote. -- A Military Execution. -- Cuban Milk Dealers.
-- Exposure of Domestic Life. -- Living in the Open Air. --
The Campo Santo of Havana. -- A Funeral Cortége. -- Punishing
Slaves. -- Campo de Marte. -- Hotel Telegrafo. -- Environs of
the City. -- Bishop's Garden. -- Consul-General Williams. --
Mineral Springs.
The Inquisition, as it regards the Church of Rome, is suppressed in
Cuba, but the political inquisition, as exercised by the government on
the island, is even more diabolical than that of the former Jesuitical
organization, because it is more secret in its murderous deeds, not
one half of the horrors of which will ever be publicly known. Moro
Castle is full of political prisoners, who are thinned out by
executions, starvation, and hardships generally, from day to day, only
to make room for fresh victims. He who enters those grim portals
leaves all hope behind. Political trials there are none, but of
political arrests there are endless numbers. The life of every citizen
is at the disposal of the Captain-General. If a respectable person is
arrested, as one suspected of animosity towards the government, he
simply disappears. His friends dare not press his defense, or inquire
too closely as to his case, lest they, too, should be incarcerated on
suspicion, never again to regain their liberty. A maxim of Spanish law
is that every accused person is guilty, until he proves himself
innocent! As a large majority of the people, in their hearts,
sympathize with the revolutionists, and are revolutionists in secret,
they are liable to say or to do some trifling thing unwittingly, upon
which the lynx-eyed officials seize as evidence of guilt, and their
arrest follows. What fearful stories the dungeons of Moro could reveal
had they tongue with which to speak!
Obispo and O'Riley streets are the principal shopping thoroughfares of
the metropolis, containing many fine stores for the sale of dry goods,
millinery, china, glassware, and jewelry. These shops are generally
quite open in front. Standing at the end, and looking along either of
these thoroughfares, one gets a curious perspective view. The
party-colored awnings often stretch entirely across the narrow
streets, reminding one of a similar effect in Canton, where straw
matting takes the place of canvas, forming a sort of open marquee. The
queer names adopted for the stores never fail to afford a theme of
amusement; the drawling cries of the fruit-dealers and peripatetic
tradesmen giving an added interest. The merchant in Havana does not
designate his establishment by placing his own name upon his sign, but
adopts some fancy title, such as Diana, America, The Star, Virtue, The
Golden Lion, and so on, which titles are paraded in gilt letters over
the door. The Spanish people are always prodigal in names, making the
sun, moon and stars, gods and goddesses, all do duty in designating
their stores, villas, and plantations. Nearly every town on the island
is named after some apostle or saint. The tradesmen are thorough Jews
in their style of dealing with the public, and no one thinks of paying
them the price which they first demand for an article. It is their
practice in naming a price to make allowance for reduction; they
expect to be bargained with, or cheapened at least one half. The
ladies commonly make their purchases late in the afternoon or evening,
stopping in their victorias at the doors of the shops, from whence the
articles they desire are brought by the shopmen and deftly displayed
on the street. When lighted up at night the stores are really
brilliant and attractive, presenting quite a holiday appearance; but
customers are sadly wanting in these days of business depression. "I
have been compelled to dismiss my salesmen and do their work myself,"
said a dry-goods merchant to us; "we dare not give credit, and few
persons have cash to spare in these times."
One of the principal causes of the present bankrupt condition of the
people of Cuba is the critical period of transition through which the
island is passing from slave to free labor; besides which there is the
exhaustion consequent upon years of civil war and a succession of bad
crops. Labor is becoming dearer and sugar cheaper. The Spaniards are
slow to adopt labor-saving machinery, or new ideas of any sort, and
those not already supplied have neither capital nor credit with which
to procure the new machinery for sugar-making. The enormous production
of European beet-sugar has cut off all Continental demand for their
staple, and has in some degree superseded its use in America.
Brigandage is on the increase, as poverty and want of legitimate
employment prevail. Money, when it can be borrowed at all, is at a
ruinous interest. The army of office-holders still manage to extort
considerable sums in the aggregate from the people, under the guise of
necessary taxes. Financial ruin stares all in the face. It is a sad
thing to say, but only too true, that among people heretofore
considered above suspicion in commercial transactions great dishonesty
prevails, pecuniary distress and lack of credit driving men, once in
good standing, to defraud their creditors at home and abroad. Estates
and plantations are not only heavily mortgaged, but the prospective
crops are in the same condition, in many cases. In former prosperous
years the planters have been lavish spenders of money, ever ready to
use their credit to the full extent, until their interest account has
consumed their principal. The expensive habits acquired under the
promptings of large profits and a sure market are difficult to
overcome, and people who never anticipated the present state of
affairs are now forced to exercise economy and self-denial. Cuban
planters and their families, in years past, came to our most
fashionable watering-places decked with jewels of almost fabulous
value, and they lavished gold like water; most of these individuals
considered themselves to be rich beyond the chances of fortune. Their
profuse style of living was a source of envy; their liberality to
landlords and to servants was demoralizing, as it regarded the tariff
of hotel prices for more steady-going people. Thousands of human
beings were yielding their enforced labor to fill these spendthrifts'
purses, and sugar was king. The picture has its reverse. Civil war has
supervened, the slaves are being freed, sugar is no longer a bonanza,
and the rich man of yesterday is the bankrupt of to-day. Truly riches
have wings.
Spain keeps a large and effective force of soldiers upon the
island,--an army out of all proportion in numbers to the territory or
people she holds in subjection. The present military force must
number some forty thousand, rank and file, and the civil department
fully equals the army in number; and all are home Spaniards. A large
portion of the military are kept in the eastern department of the
island, which is and has ever been the locality where revolutionary
outbreaks occur. Eighty per cent, of all the soldiers ever sent to
Cuba have perished there! It is as Castelar once pronounced the island
to be, in the Cortes at Madrid, namely, the Campo Santo of the Spanish
army. Exposure, a miserable commissariat, the climate, and insurgent
bullets combine to thin the ranks of the army like a raging
pestilence. We were informed by a responsible party that twenty-five
per cent, of the newly-arrived soldiers died in their first year,
during what is called their acclimation. Foreigners who visit Cuba for
business or pleasure do so at the most favorable season; they are not
subjected to hardships nor exposed in malarial districts. The
soldiers, on the contrary, are sent indiscriminately into the fever
districts at the worst season, besides being called upon to endure
hardships, all the time, which predispose them to fatal diseases.
There are known to be organized juntas of revolutionists at Key West,
Florida, in Hayti, and also in New York city, whose designs upon the
Cuban government keep the authorities on the island in a state of
chronic alarm. A revolutionary spirit is felt to be all the while
smouldering in the hearts of this oppressed people, and hence the
tyrannous espionage, and the cruelty exercised towards suspected
persons. So enormous are the expenses, military and civil, which are
required to sustain the government, under these circumstances, that
Cuba to-day, notwithstanding the heavy taxes extorted from her
populace, is an annual expense to the throne. Formerly the snug sum of
seven or eight millions of dollars was the yearly contribution which
the island made to the royal treasury, after paying local army, navy,
and civil expenses. This handsome sum was over and above the pickings
and stealings of the venal officials. As to the Cuban sympathizers at
Key West, Florida, a recent visit to that port, just opposite to the
island on the hither side of the Gulf Stream, showed us that they
formed a large proportion of the population of that thrifty American
town. On a day which was the anniversary of some patriotic occasion
relating to the island, hundreds of Cuban flags (the single star of
free Cuba) were seen displayed upon the dwellings and public places.
There are believed to be two thousand Creoles residing here, who have
either been expelled from the island for political reasons, or who
have escaped from thence as suspected patriots. These people are very
generally engaged in the manufacture of the well-known Key West
cigars.
The Spanish army is governed with an iron hand. Military law knows no
mercy, and it is always more or less a lapse into barbarism where it
takes precedence. The ranks are filled by conscription in Spain, and
when the men first arrive at Havana they are the rawest recruits
imaginable. Soldiers who have been doing garrison duty are sent inland
to fill the decimated ranks of various stations, and room is thus made
for the recruits, who are at once put to work, enduring a course of
severe discipline and drill. They land from the transports, many of
them, hatless, barefooted, and in a filthy condition, with scarcely a
whole garment among a regiment of them. The writer could hardly
believe, on witnessing the scene, that they were not a set of
criminals being transported for penal servitude. Fatigue dresses no
doubt awaited them at the barracks, and after a while they would be
served with a cheap uniform, coarse shoes, and straw hats. They are
like sheep being driven to the shambles, and are quite as helpless.
Twenty-five per cent, and upwards of these recruits are usually under
the sod before the close of a twelve-month!
Sometimes the hardship they have to endure breeds rebellion among
them, but woe betide those who commit any overt act, or become leaders
of any organized attempt to obtain justice. The service requires
frequent victims as examples to enforce the rigid discipline. The
punishment by the garrote is a common resort. It is a machine
contrived to choke the victim to death without suspending him in the
air. At the same time it is fatal in another way, namely, by severing
the spinal column just below its connection with the brain. The
condemned man is placed upon a chair fixed on a platform, leaning his
head and neck back into a sort of iron yoke or frame prepared to
receive it. Here an iron collar is clasped about the throat. At the
appointed moment a screw is suddenly turned by the executioner,
stationed behind the condemned, and instantaneous death follows. This
would seem to be more merciful than hanging, whereby death is produced
by the lingering process of suffocation, to say nothing of the many
mishaps which so often occur upon the gallows. This mode of punishment
is looked upon by the army as a disgrace, and they much prefer the
legitimate death of a soldier, which is to fall by the bullets of his
comrades when condemned to die.
The writer witnessed one of these military executions, early on a
clear April morning, which took place in the rear of the barracks near
La Punta. It was a trying experience, and recalled to mind the
execution of the mulatto poet and patriot, Valdez, which had occurred
a few years before in the Plaza at Matanzas. It was a sight to chill
the blood even under a tropical sun. A soldier of the line was to be
shot for some act of insubordination against the stringent rules of
the army, and that the punishment might prove a forcible example to
his comrades the battalion to which he belonged was drawn up on parade
to witness the cruel scene. The immediate file of twelve men to which
the victim had belonged were supplied with muskets by their officer,
and we were told that, according to custom, one musket was left
without ball, so that each one might hope that his was not the hand to
slay his former comrade. A sense of mercy would still lead them all to
aim faithfully, so that lingering pain might be avoided.
The order was given: the bright morning sun shone like living fire
along the polished barrels of the guns, as the fatal muzzles all
ranged in point at the body of the condemned. "Fire!" said the
commanding officer. A quick, rattling report followed, accompanied by
a thin cloud of smoke, which was at once dispersed by the sea breeze,
showing the still upright form of the victim. Though wounded in many
places, no vital spot had been touched, nor did he fall until the
sergeant, at a sign from his officer, advanced with a reserved musket,
and quickly blew out his brains! His body was removed. The troops were
formed into column, the band struck up a lively air, and thus was a
human being launched into eternity.
Few current matters strike the stranger as being more peculiar than
the Cuban milkman's mode of supplying the required aliment to his town
customers. He has no cart bearing shining cans, they in turn filled
with milk, or with what purports to be milk; his mode is direct, and
admits of no question as to purity. Driving his sober kine from door
to door, he deliberately milks then and there just the quantity
required by each customer, delivers it, and drives on to the next. The
patient animal becomes as familiar with the residences of her master's
customers as he is himself, and stops unbidden, at regular intervals,
before the proper doors, often followed by a pretty little calf, which
amuses itself by gazing enviously at the process, being prevented from
interfering by a leather muzzle. Sometimes the flow of milk is checked
by an effort of the animal herself, when she seems to realize that the
calf is not getting its share of nourishment. The driver then promptly
brings the calf to the mother's side, and removes the muzzle long
enough to give the little one a brief chance. The cow freely yields
her milk while the calf is close to her, and the milkman, muzzling the
calf, adroitly milks into his measure. The same mode is adopted in
India and the south of Spain. There are at least two good reasons for
delivering milk in hot climates after this fashion. First, there can
be no adulteration of the article; and second, it is sure to be fresh
and sweet. This last is a special desideratum in a climate where ice
is an expensive luxury, and the difficulty of keeping milk from
becoming acid is very great. The effect upon the cow is by no means
salutary, causing the animal to produce much less in quantity than
when milked clean at regularly fixed hours, as with us. Goats are
often driven about for the same purpose and used in the same manner.
It was a surprise not to see more of these animals in Cuba, a country
especially adapted to them. Cows thrive best upon grass, of which
there is comparatively little in the tropics,--vegetation runs to
larger development; but goats eat anything green, and do well nearly
anywhere. It is a singular fact that sheep transported to this climate
cease gradually to produce wool. After three or four generations they
grow only a simple covering, more like hair than wool, and resemble
goats rather than sheep.
Glass is scarcely known in Cuban windows; the glazier has yet to make
his début in Havana. The most pretentious as well as the humblest of
the town-houses have the broad, high, projecting window, reaching from
floor to ceiling, secured only by heavy horizontal iron bars,
prison-like in effect, through which, as one passes along the narrow
streets, it is nearly impossible to avoid glancing in upon domestic
scenes that frequently exhibit the female portion of the family en
déshabillé. Sometimes a loose lace curtain intervenes, but even this
is unusual, the freest circulation of fresh air being quite necessary.
The eye penetrates the whole interior of domestic life, as at Yokohama
or Tokio. Indeed, the manners of the female occupants seem to court
this attention from without, coming freely as they do to the windows
to chat with passers-by. Once inside of these dwelling-houses there
are no doors, curtains alone shutting off the communication between
chambers, sitting-rooms, and corridors. These curtains, when not
looped up, are sufficient to keep out persons of the household or
strangers, it being the custom always to speak, in place of knocking,
before passing a curtain; but the little naked negro children, male
and female, creep under these curtains without restraint, while
parrots, pigeons, and fowls generally make common use of all nooks and
corners of the house. Doors might keep these out of one's room, but
curtains do not. The division walls between the apartments in private
houses, like those in the hotels, often reach but two thirds of the
way up to the walls, thus affording free circulation of air, but
rendering privacy impossible. One reason why the Cubans all possess
such broad expanded chests is doubtless owing to the fact that their
lungs find free action at all times. They live, as it were, in the
open air. The effect of this upon strangers is seen and felt,
producing a sense of physical exhilaration, fine spirits, and a good
appetite. It would be impossible to live in a dwelling-house built in
our close, secure style, if it were placed in the city of Havana. The
laundress takes possession of the roof of the house during the day,
but it is the place of social gathering at night, when the family and
their guests enjoy the sea-breeze which sweeps in from the Gulf of
Mexico. On a clear, bright moonlight night the effect is very striking
as one looks across the house-tops, nearly all being upon a level.
Many cheerful circles are gathered here and there, some dancing to the
notes of a guitar, some singing, and others engaged in quiet games.
Merry peals of laughter come from one direction and another, telling
of light and thoughtless hearts among the family groups. Occasionally
there is borne along the range of roofs the swelling but distant
strains of the military band playing in the Plaza de Isabella, while
the moon looks calmly down from a sky whose intensely blue vault is
only broken by stars.
The cemetery, or Campo Santo, of Havana is situated about three miles
outside of the city. A high wall incloses the grounds, in which
oven-like niches are prepared for the reception of the coffins
containing the bodies of the wealthy residents, while the poor are
thrown into shallow graves, often several bodies together in a long
trench, negroes and whites, without a coffin of any sort. Upon them is
thrown quicklime to promote rapid decomposition. The cremation which
forms the mode of disposing of the bodies of the deceased as practiced
in India is far less objectionable.
The funeral cortége is unique in Havana. The hearse, drawn by four
black horses, is gilded and decked like a car of Juggernaut, and
driven by a flunkey in a cocked hat covered with gold braid, a scarlet
coat alive with brass buttons and gilt ornaments, and top boots which,
as he sits, reach half-way to his chin. This individual flourishes a
whip like a fishing-pole, and is evidently very proud of his position.
Beside the hearse walk six hired mourners on either side, dressed in
black, with cocked hats and swallow-tail coats. Fifteen or twenty
victorias follow, containing only male mourners. The driver in
scarlet, the twelve swallow-tails in black, and the occupants of the
victorias each and all are smoking cigars as though their lives
depended upon the successful operation. And so the cortége files into
the Campo Santo.
Not far from La Punta there is a structure, protected from the public
gaze by a high wall, where the slaves of either sex belonging to the
citizens of Havana are brought for punishment. Within are a series of
whipping-posts, to which these poor creatures are bound before
applying the lash to their bare bodies. The sight of this fiendish
procedure is cut off from the public, but more than one person has
told us of having heard the agonizing cries of the victims. And yet
there are people who will tell us these poor creatures are far better
off than when in their native country. One slave-owner said it was
necessary to make an example of some member of all large households of
slaves each month, in order to keep them under discipline! Another
said, "I never whip my slaves; it may be necessary upon a plantation,
but not in domestic circles in town. When they have incurred my
displeasure, they are deprived of some small creature comfort, or
denied certain liberties, which punishment seems to answer every
object." So it will be seen that all slave-holders are not cruel. Some
seem as judicious and reasonable as is possible under the miserable
system of slavery.
Opposite the Indian Paseo, General Tacon, during his governorship of
the island, constructed a broad camp-ground for military parades in
what is now becoming the heart of the city, though outside the limits
of the old city walls. He called it the Campo de Marte, and surrounded
the whole space, ten acres, more or less, with a high ornamental iron
fence. It is in form a perfect square, and on each of the four sides
was placed a broad, pretentious gateway, flanked by heavy square
pillars. That on the west side he named Puerta de Colon; on the north,
Puerta de Cortes; on the south, Puerta de Pizarro; and on the east
side, facing the city, he gave the gate the name of Puerta de Tacon.
His administration has been more praised and more censured than that
of any of his predecessors since the days of Velasquez. This Campo de
Marte, which, as stated, was originally intended for military purposes
generally, is now converted into a public park, laid out with spacious
walks, fountains, handsome trees, and carriage-ways. The gates have
been removed, and the whole place thrown open as a thoroughfare and
pleasure-ground.
Speaking of this open square brings us to the subject of hotels in
Havana, and as we have so often been questioned upon this subject,
doubtless a few words upon the matter will interest the general
reader. We made our temporary home for nearly a month at the Hotel
Telegrafo, but why it is so called we do not know. It is considered to
be one of the best in the city, and is centrally situated, being
opposite to the Campo de Marte. There was a chief clerk who spoke
English, and another who spoke French, and two guides who possessed
the same facilities. The price of board was from four to five dollars
per day, including meals and service. The rooms were very small, table
fair, plenty of fruits and preserves, but the meats were poor. Fish
was always fresh and good in Havana. Coffee and tea were poor. If one
desires to procure good coffee, as a rule, look for it anywhere rather
than in countries where it is grown. Cleanliness was not considered as
being an indispensable virtue in the Telegrafo. Drainage received but
little attention, and the domestic offices of the house were seriously
offensive. The yellow fever does not prevail in Havana except in
summer, say from May to October; but according to recognized sanitary
rules it should rage there every month in the year. The hotels in
peninsular Spain are dirty enough to disgust any one, but those of
Havana are a degree worse in this respect. Any of our readers who
have chanced in their travels upon the Fonda de Rafaela, for
instance, at Burgos, in Spain, will understand us fully. It was of no
use to remove elsewhere; after examining the other hotels it was
thought best to remain at the Telegrafo, on the principle adopted by
the Irishman, who, though not inclined to believe in Purgatory, yet
accepted this item of faith lest he should go further and fare worse.
There is the San Carlos Hotel, near the wharves, which is more of a
family than a travelers' resort; the Hotel Pasaje, in Prado Street,
quite central; Hotel Europe, in La Plaza de San Francisco; and Hotels
Central and Ingleterra: the last two are opposite the Plaza de
Isabella, and are in the midst of noise and gayety. Arrangements can
be made at any of these houses for board by the day, or on the
European plan; all have restaurants.
There are some very attractive summer resorts in the environs of the
city, one of the nearest and prettiest of which is El Cerro (the
hill), one league from town. It has a number of remarkably pleasant
country-seats, some of which have extensive gardens, rivaling that of
the Captain-General in extent. But to reach Cerro one has to drive
over a road which is in such want of repair as to be dangerous,
gullied by the rains, and exhibiting holes two feet deep, liable to
break the horses' legs and the wheels of the vehicles. Here is a road,
close to Havana, with stones weighing hundreds of pounds on the
surface, in the very wheel-tracks. Handsome hedges of the wild pine,
the aloe, and the Spanish bayonet line the road, where an occasional
royal palm, the emblem of majesty, stands alone, adding grandeur to
all the surroundings. If you drive out to Cerro, put on a linen
duster; otherwise you will be likely to come back looking like a
miller's apprentice. Not far beyond Cerro there lies some beautiful
country, reached by the same miserable road. Puentes Grandes, a small
village near the falls of the Almendares River, is but two miles
further north than Cerro, and adjoining this place, a couple of miles
further, is a small, picturesque village called Ceiba, from the
abundance of that species of tree which once flourished there. These
two places have some interesting country residences, where the
wealthiest citizens of Havana spend their summers. The village of
Quemados is also in this immediate neighborhood, about a couple of
leagues from town; here is situated the Havana Hippodrome, where
horse-races take place in the winter season. We must not forget to
mention Vedado, on the seashore, whither the Havanese drive oftenest
on Sundays; it is also connected with the city by steam-cars and
omnibus. There are some fine villas here, and it is quite a Cuban
watering-place, affording excellent bathing facilities. Vedado has
wide streets, and, after the city, seems to be remarkably clean and
neat.
The Bishop's Garden, so called because some half century since it was
the residence of the Bishop of Havana, is about four miles from the
city, on the line of the Marianao railroad. It must have been a
delightful place when in its prime and properly cared for; even now,
in its ruins, it is extremely interesting. There are a score, more or
less, of broken, moss-grown statues, stone balustrades, and stone
capitals lying among the luxuriant vegetation, indicating what was
once here. Its alleys of palms, over two hundred years in age, the
thrifty almond-trees, and the gaudy-colored piñons, with their
honeysuckle-like bloom, delight the eye. The flamboyant absolutely
blazed in its gorgeous flowers, like ruddy flames, all over the
grounds. The remarkable fan-palm spread out its branches like a
peacock's tail, screening vistas here and there. Through these grounds
flows a small swift stream, which has its rise in the mountains some
miles inland, its bright and sparkling waters imparting an added
beauty to the place. By simple irrigating means this stream is made to
fertilize a considerable tract of land used as vegetable gardens,
lying between Tulipan and Havana. The Bishop's Garden still contains
large stone basins for swimming purposes, cascades, fountains, and
miniature lakes, all rendered possible by means of this small, clear,
deep river. The neglected place is sadly suggestive of decay, with its
moss-covered paths, tangled undergrowth, and untrimmed foliage.
Nothing, however, can mar the glory of the grand immemorial palms.
The town of Tulipan, in which is the Bishop's Garden, is formed of
neat and pleasant residences of citizens desiring to escape the bustle
and closeness of the city. The houses are half European or American in
their architecture, modified to suit the climate. Here the American
Consul-General has a delightfully chosen home, surrounded by pleasant
shade, and characterized by lofty, cool apartments; with bright, snowy
marble floors, plenty of space, and perfect ventilation. Mr. Williams
is a gentleman unusually well fitted for the responsible position he
fills, having been a resident of Cuba for many years, and speaking the
language like a native. In his intensely patriotic sentiments he is a
typical American. It is not out of place for us to acknowledge here
our indebtedness to him for much important information relating to
the island.
The most celebrated mineral springs in Cuba are to be found at San
Diego, where there are hot sulphur waters, springs bubbling
ceaselessly from the earth, and for which great virtues are claimed.
The springs are situated west of Havana, between thirty and forty
leagues, at the base of the southern slope of the mountains. These
waters are freely drank, as well as bathed in, and are highly charged
with sulphureted hydrogen, and contain sulphate of lime and carbonate
of magnesia. There are some diseases of women for which the San Diego
waters are considered to be a specific, and remarkable cures are
authenticated. Rheumatism and skin diseases are specially treated by
the local physician. There is a very fair hotel at San Diego, located
near the baths, and many Americans speak warmly in praise of the place
as a health resort.
Next to the springs of San Diego, those of Madruga are notable,
situated between Matanzas and Havana, and which can be reached by
rail. The character of these springs is very similar to those of San
Diego, though of lower temperature. They are used both for bathing and
for drinking. Madruga is more easily accessible from the metropolis
than is San Diego. There is also a good physician resident in the
village.