A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ISLAND.
It was on the morning of Friday, 12th October 1492, that Christopher
Columbus first saw the New World rising on the ocean horizon. The
ardently prayed-for land proved to be an island, called by the natives
GuanahanA", and by the explorer baptized San Salvador, but known to us
now as the chief of the Bahamas group. After making friends with the
gentle natives, and taking in supplies of food and water, Columbus,
though at some loss as to which way he should direct his course, set
sail once more. Such a multitude of islands lay before him, large and
small, "green, level, and fertile," that he grew fairly confused as to
which way to turn. He fancied he was sailing in the Archipelago,
described by Marco Polo as studding the seas which washed the shores of
Chin, or China, a great, great distance from the mainland. These, the
Venetian traveller had declared, numbered some 7000 or 8000--rich in
gold, silver, drugs, spices, and many other precious objects of
commerce. Night obscured the delightful vision, and the verdure-clad
islands faded into the tropical darkness. The next morning Columbus
landed on a pretty islet, the inhabitants of which greeted him in the
most friendly manner, and to which he gave the name of Santa Maria de la
Concepcion. But the extreme simplicity of their costume--they were clad
in all their native innocence--and the absence of all signs of wealth,
led the Discoverer to think that perhaps, after all, he was still far
from that part of the world mentioned by the imaginative Marco. Next, he
landed on a beautiful island, now known as Exuma, to which he gave the
name of Fernandina, in honour of His Most Christian Majesty. Here the
ladies betrayed more native modesty, for, he gravely assures us, "they
wore mantles made of feathers, and cotton aprons." He had disembarked in
a noble harbour, bordered by shady groves, "as fresh and green as in the
month of May in Andalusia." The trees, the fruits, the herbs, the
flowers, the very stones, were, for the most part, as different from
those of Spain as day is to night.
On 19th October he left Fernandina, steering towards another island,
called Saometo, where, as he gathered from the natives, he was to find
rich mines of gold, and a monarch who held sway over all the surrounding
lands. This potentate was said to dwell in a mighty city, and to wear
garments studded with gold and gems. He reached the island in due time,
but neither monarch nor mine found he. It was a delightful spot,
however, blessed with deep lakes of fresh water, and with such swarms of
singing-birds that the explorer felt, so he declared, that he could
"never desire to depart thence. There are flocks of parrots which
obscure the sun, and other brilliant birds of so many kinds and sizes,
and all different from ours, that it is wonderful, and besides, there
are trees of a thousand sorts, each having its particular fruit, and of
marvellous flavour." To this enchanting island he gave the name of
Isabella, after his royal patroness.
Whilst the Discoverer was seeking for healing herbs, and "delighting in
the fragrance of sweet and dainty flowers," and, moreover, "believing
that here were many herbs which would be of great price in Spain for
tinctures and medicines," his followers were clamouring to the natives
concerning the whereabouts of mines of gold and silver, which, we need
hardly say, existed only in their ardent, greedy, and deluded
imaginations. Whether Columbus and his companions mistook the natives'
signs or not, certain it is that, for several days, he was once more
convinced he was in the neighbourhood of the islands of which Marco Polo
had written. The capital of this archipelago was supposed to be a city
called Quinsai, and there Columbus intended personally to deliver the
letter of the Castilian sovereigns to the mysterious Khan. With his mind
full of such airy castles, he set sail from Isabella on the 24th
October, steering, haphazard, west-south-west. After three days'
navigation, in the course of which he touched at a group of small
islands, which he christened Islas de Arena, now supposed to be the
Mucacas, he crossed the Bahama Bank, and hove in sight of Cuba. Lost in
contemplation of the size and grandeur of the new island, its high
soaring mountains, which, he tells us, reminded him of those of Sicily,
its fertile valleys, its long, sweeping, and well-watered plains; its
stately forests, its bold promontories and headlands melting away into
the softest distance, he once more concluded that this, at last, must be
the enchanted country of the Venetian explorer. Landing, he took
possession in the name of Christ, Our Lady, and the Sovereigns of Spain,
and christened the new country Juana, in honour of the Infanta DoA+-a
Juana. The land on which he set foot is believed to have been just to
the west of Nuevitas del Principe, the seaport of the city of Puerto
Principe. The objects which first arrested his attention were a couple
of huts, from which the inmates had fled. Their interiors boasted no
evidences of civilization or wealth. Their sole contents were a few
fishing-nets, hooks, harpoons of bone, and a queer sort of dog (the
breed, alas, is now extinct, I fear!), "which never barks." With the
humane consideration which distinguished the illustrious Italian, though
his Spanish followers can never be said to have followed his good
example, Columbus ordered that nothing should be touched or disturbed in
the two cabins. There was a certain foresight, too, about the order; it
was more advantageous to pose as a demi-god than to run the risk of
being taken for a thief.[7]
The scenery of Cuba is described by Columbus in his usual glowing
language. Then, as now, it was a marvel of tropical beauty. He was
specially impressed by the vivid splendour of the jewelled
humming-birds, which hovered around the innumerable and gorgeous
blossoms clustering every bough. The smaller species of fireflies he had
frequently seen in Italy, but the _luccioli_ of the Old World were as
sparks to lamps beside the meteor-like creatures which, even on the
brightest nights, made a flickering radiance in the Cuban forests. In a
word, Cuba broke upon him like an Elysium. "It is the most beautiful
island that eye of man ever beheld, full of excellent woods and deep
flowing rivers." He was utterly convinced, now, he had reached Cipango,
that wonderful spot which, according to Marco Polo, possessed mountains
of gold, and a shore the sands of which were strewn with oriental
pearls. A worthy native further deluded the already over-credulous
Discoverer by inducing him to believe that the centre of the island, at
a place called Cubanacan, literally glittered with gold. Now Cubanacan
is uncommonly like Cublia-Khan, the name of the Tartar sovereign
mentioned by Polo, and this confusion of names probably led Columbus and
his companions to the conviction that Cuba was not an island, but part
of the main continent.
Suddenly, one day, the weather changed; the sky, hitherto as blue as a
turquoise, grew dark and heavy, torrents of rain began to fall, and
Columbus was obliged to relinquish all further pursuit of adventure in
the heart of the island, and to confine his operations to the coast.
There is nothing more pathetic in the "Journal" of Columbus than those
passages which deal with the discovery of Cuba. Illusion after illusion
fades away. To-day there are reports of gold and silver mines; to-morrow
someone has heard of cinnamon and nutmeg trees, and even of the humble
rhubarb, but, on examination, gold and silver, cinnamon, nutmeg, and
rhubarb, all prove delusions. The Spaniards showed the natives pearls,
at which they merely smiled,--to them they were naught but pretty white
beads. Gold did not impress them as being of any particular value or
beauty; and they were understood to say that, in the more distant parts
of the country, the people wore ornaments made of that precious metal
about their necks, arms, and ankles. Then came an old native who
announced that further on dwelt men who had but one eye, and that below
their shoulders; others who had dogs' heads; and others, again, who were
vampires, and sucked their prisoners' blood until they died of
exhaustion, and thereby confirmed Othello's account of his adventures--
"In lands where dwell cannibals that each other eat,
The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads
Do grow beneath their shoulders."
Everything, in a word, was new and wonderful, and everything tended to
make the Discoverer think he was approaching that object of his dreams,
"the city of the Khan."
In November he was still wandering down the coast of the magnificent
island, which he believed to be part of the Continent,--an error in
which he continued until his death. Yet, had he but sailed three days
further, he would have touched the main coast of Florida. Certain
writers assert that he landed in British Honduras, without, however,
realizing that, by so doing, he had discovered the real Continent of
America.
Here we must take our leave of the illustrious Discoverer and his
adventures. If I have dwelt so long upon them, it has been simply in
order to impress my readers with the fact that, when Columbus reached
Cuba, he discovered a country, the inhabitants of which were evidently
at peace among themselves and their neighbours. Yet, almost from the day
of his arrival to the present time, the unhappy island has been stained
by incessant tragedy. The illustrious Italian firmly believed he had
brought a blessing to the natives. His arrival, alas! only signified the
beginning of their extermination.
The early inhabitants, not only of Cuba, but of all the other islands,
were certainly of common origin, spoke the same language, practised the
same customs, and held similar superstitions. They bore a distinct
resemblance to certain tribes of Indians on the main Continent, to the
Arrowauk in particular. They were well made, of dark brown complexion,
with goodly features and long straight hair. They went by the generic
name of Charaibes or Caribees. Several distinct tribes may have existed,
but the evidence is that they were all of one family, which had in all
probability swarmed out of the great hive of the Mexican empire. Juan de
Grijalva, a Spanish navigator, declared, in 1518, that he found a people
on the coast of Yucatan who spoke the same language as the natives of
the island. According to Las Casas, and to Peter Martyr, who wrote on
the authority of Columbus himself, there were about 1,200,000 souls in
Cuba at the time of its discovery. This was possibly the result of some
rough calculation made upon the large number of people noticed as living
upon the immediate sea-board. It is certain that not Cuba only, but all
the neighbouring islands, were thickly populated at the time of their
discovery, and also that the aborigines were exceedingly gentle in
character. They almost invariably received the European adventurers as
beings of a superior order, who had alighted from some spirit world,
evidently with the intention of doing them good--a conviction
strengthened by the graceful courtesy which still distinguishes their
descendants in Spain and Italy. This conviction was, ere long, to be
cruelly shaken! The islanders, in spite of many virtues, had a moral
code of the loosest description, and, if we may believe Ovando, Europe
owes them its first acquaintance with one of the most terrible penalties
exacted by Nature from the too fervent worshipper of Venus. Labour and
cultivation appear to have been little practised by the Caribbees, who
found the great fertility of their country sufficient to enable them to
lead a life of delightful indolence. Their fashions never changed--since
they had none to change--and their wives' milliner's bills troubled them
not. They spent their time in athletic exercises, in dancing, hunting,
fishing, and in fact, according to contemporary Spanish evidence, the
aboriginal Cubans would seem to have discovered the real secret of
life, and to have been far more philosophical than their restless and
over-ambitious conquerors.
They treated their elders with respect, and their wives with affection;
and they were untainted with cannibalism and other objectionable savage
practices. The discovery of fragments of ancient pottery, by no means
inartistically designed, and other objects indicating a higher
civilization than that for which Columbus gave them credit, would lead
one to believe that the natives were not devoid of a certain degree of
culture. Contemporary testimony is almost universally in favour of their
firm belief in the existence of a personal Deity, who had power to
reward merit and punish vice, a heaven and a hell. Columbus, according
to his own account, seems, between the years 1492-4, to have acquired
sufficient knowledge of the Indian language to understand a good deal of
what was said to him. He had taken two Indians back with him to Spain,
and had studied assiduously with them. However that may be, he declares
that on one occasion, in July 1494, during his second visit, an aged
Cuban made him the following speech as he presented him with a basket of
fruit and flowers: "Whether you are a divinity," said he, "or a mortal
man, we know not. You come into these countries with a force which we
should be mad to resist, even if we were so inclined. We are all,
therefore, at your mercy; but if you and your followers are men like
ourselves, subject to mortality, you cannot be unapprised that after
this life there is another, wherein a very different portion is allotted
to good and bad men. And if you believe you will be rewarded in a
future state, you will do us no harm, for we intend none to you."
The fairy-like opening of the dramatic history of Cuba, with all the
quaint descriptions of its Eden-like beauty bequeathed to us in its
Discoverer's Journal, was soon to degenerate into a horrible tragedy.
Not a generation elapsed before the Spaniards were deep in the very
tactics which have been disgracing their behaviour in Cuba during this
last decade. In the most wanton, senseless, and barbarous fashion, they
fell on the wretched natives, with no other object than that of
extirpating them, so as to usurp their possessions. They even went so
far as to assure the poor wretches that if they would embark with them
on their ships they would take them to certain islands where their
ancestors resided, and where they would enjoy a state of bliss of which
they had no conception. The simple souls listened with wondrous
credulity, and, eager to visit their friends in the happy region
described, followed the Spaniards with the utmost docility. By these
damnable devices over 40,000 human beings were decoyed from their homes
and ruthlessly slaughtered. Las Casas and Peter Martyr relate tales by
the dozen concerning the frightful cruelty of the men whom they had the
misfortune to accompany to the New World. Martyr tells us that some
Spaniards made a vow to hang or burn thirteen natives in honour of the
Saviour and the Twelve Apostles every morning. Certain monsters, more
zealous than the rest, drove their captives into the water, and after
forcibly administering the rite of baptism, cut their throats to prevent
their apostacy. But I will not harrow the reader with further accounts
of the astounding cruelty shown by the Spanish conquerors of Cuba. I
will simply repeat with their own historian, Martyr, "that in the whole
history of the world such enormities have never before been practised."
If any further testimony were needed, we have that of the venerable Las
Casas. Even Oviado, who strives to palliate his countrymen's
barbarities, confesses that in 1535, only forty-three years after the
discovery of the West Indies, and when he himself was on the spot, there
were not above 500 of the original natives left alive in the island of
Hispaniola.[8]
This wholesale massacre may have been carried out with a view to
ensuring the complete Spanish repopulation of the islands. The
destruction of the natives naturally led, in course of time, to the
importation, on a very large scale, of negro slavery, and the unnatural
trade continued until its final abolition, which took place some twelve
years ago. Traces of Indian blood are still evident amongst the
inhabitants of the wild regions in the eastern part of Cuba, who boast
indeed that they are the "Caribbees." The women are especially
beautiful, and remarkable for the extraordinary length of their hair,
which sometimes touches the ground. A female attendant in the house of a
planter whom I visited in this part of the island some years ago, was,
I was assured, of undoubted Caribbean descent. She was rather tall,
copper-coloured, and her hair, when she let it fall loose, nearly
reached her ankles, perfectly straight, and intensely black. She was not
a slave, and was treated with respect and kindness by her employers.
Although Columbus revisited the island three times before he returned to
Spain, to rest his weary bones in that peace his enemies so persistently
denied him, he died, as I have said, in the full conviction that it
formed part of the Asiatic continent, and it was not until 1508 that, at
the command of Nicola Ovanda, a certain Captain Sebastian
circumnavigated the island, and established the undoubted fact of its
being completely surrounded by water. In 1511, Columbus' son Diego, then
Governor of Hispaniola, otherwise Hayti, sent Diego Velasquez to Cuba,
with full authority to colonize it. This process he performed by
parcelling out the island among his followers and reducing the natives
to slavery. The poor creatures, never having been accustomed to hard
work, rebelled, and were forthwith mercilessly exterminated. Velasquez
founded many towns, among them Baracoa, Bayamo, Trinidad, Puerto
Principe, Santiago de Cuba (in 1515), and San Christobal de Habana
(Havana) (in 1519), this last city not exactly in its present position.
More interesting by far than Velasquez was his lieutenant, Hernando
Cortez, eventually to be known as the intrepid explorer of Mexico. The
lustre of his career in Cuba was stained, however, by his ferocious
treatment of the aborigines, whom he condemned to work in his newly
discovered copper mines, and tortured to death because they refused to
obey their taskmaster. His love affairs, on the other hand, were
romantic, and are still enshrined in the legendary history of the
island. His great, if cruel, name figures in many a folk-lore tale, but
no allusion is ever made to his subsequent adventures on the main
continent. Velasquez, too, is not forgotten. His Governorship had
evidently many features of excellence, and if he bears the shame of
having introduced the curse of negro slavery, he must be given credit
for having planted the first sugar cane in his fair domain.
After his death, in 1524, the history of Cuba is a blank until the year
1538, when Hernando de Soto landed in the island, and fitted out, in the
harbour of Santiago, the celebrated but unfortunate expedition to
Florida, by means of which he hoped to annex that country to the Spanish
territory. The undertaking, one of vast importance to the future welfare
of the New World, was disastrous in many ways. The flower of the Spanish
colonists perished in numerous battles with the natives, Cuba was
drained of her European population, and the progress of the island
lamentably retarded. Meanwhile, the venerable Las Casas had settled
himself in Havana, and started many wise reforms. Thanks to him, the
future enslavement of the natives was rendered impossible. The
benevolent law, unfortunately, came all too late--the great majority had
already perished. Las Casas built several charitable institutions and
hospitals in various parts of the island, notably at Havana and
Santiago, and obtained for Havana the grant of civic rights, as capital
of the island. For a few years Cuba enjoyed a measure of peace and
prosperity, interrupted by fierce occasional raids by French, Dutch, and
English buccaneers and pirates.
The great Buccaneering period in West Indian history, from the second
quarter of the sixteenth century till the end of the seventeenth, is one
of the most romantic and exciting that can be conceived. This celebrated
association of piratical adventurers maintained itself in the Caribbean
seas for over a century, by dint of audacity, bravery, and shrewdness.
It was organized for a systematic series of reprisals on the Spaniards;
but in the course of time all sense of honour disappeared, and its
members indulged in indiscriminate piracy. Its name, singular to relate,
is derived from the Caribbee word _bucan_, a term for preserved meat,
smoked dry in a peculiar manner. From this the French adventurers formed
the verb _bucaner_ and the noun _bucanier_, which was eventually
adopted, oddly enough, by the English, whereas the French preferred the
word _filibustier_, a possible corruption of our "freebooter," still
used to designate a certain portion of the Cuban rebels. The real motive
for the existence of the buccaneers was the universal detestation in
which Spain was held in the West Indian Archipelago. The Spanish
assumption of a divine right to half of the New World, in accordance
with the grant bestowed on them by Pope Alexander VI., and traced in his
own hand on the famous Borgian map, and the diabolical cruelties
practised by them upon all foreign interlopers who chanced to fall into
their hands, led to an association for mutual defence among all
adventurers of other nations, whom the reports of its fabulous wealth
had attracted to this part of the New World. Their policy was war to the
death against all Spaniards. Their code was of the simplest. They lived
in community: locks and bars were proscribed as an insult to their
honesty. Each buccaneer had his comrade, who stood by him when alive,
and succeeded to his property at his death. Their centre of operations
was the island of Tortuga, near San Domingo, where, when not hunting the
Spaniards or being hunted by them in return, they enjoyed peace of a
kind. Their life was wild and terrible, and their history teems with
cruelty and bloodshed, but the lurid page is lighted here and there by
tales of romantic adventure, chivalrous valour, and brilliant
generalship. Cupid, too, occasionally lent his aid to soften the rugged
asperities of the buccaneer's career. Who has not heard how Peter of
Dieppe fell in love with, and carried off, the daughter of the Governor
of Havana? and of how Van Horn lost his life in saving his daughter's
honour? Pre-eminent amongst such names as L'Olonnais, Michael de Busco,
Bartholomeo de Portuguez, and Mansvelt, stands forth that of Henry
Morgan, the Welshman, who organised fleets and armies, besieged rich
cities, reduced strong fortresses, displayed throughout his long career
an absolute genius for command, was finally knighted by Charles II., and
ended his wild and spirited career as Deputy-Governor of Jamaica, a
somewhat tame conclusion! Had he loved gold less, and power more, he
might have died Emperor of the West Indies, but he was content to retire
into comparative obscurity with his enormous fortune, after having made
the western hemisphere, from Jamaica to Rio, ring with his name and
fame. The buccaneers were then, as we see, a thoroughly well organised
association of sea-banditti, consisting mainly of English, French, and
Dutch adventurers, who harassed the coast of Cuba for over a century,
and finally, with the connivance of their respective Governments, laid
hands on Jamaica, Hayti, and others of the islands. In 1528 they even
ventured to attack Havana, set the town on fire, and reduce it to ashes.
There were no fortifications to repel them then, and the straw and
wooden buildings burnt merrily. When the buccaneers evacuated the ruins,
Hernando de Soto, the future discoverer of the Mississippi, hastened
from Santiago, where he was residing, and set himself to work to rebuild
the city in its present position, and surround it by well-designed and
constructed fortresses. So great was the terror inspired by the
buccaneers, that special laws were enacted in Cuba to protect the
seaports from their predatory attacks. People were ordered to keep
within their doors after certain hours of the night. Every man was
commanded to wear his sword, not only by day, but by night, and it was
death to assist any buccaneer who attempted to escape, after falling
into the hands of the Spaniards. In 1556, Jacob Sores, a famous pirate,
whose much-dreaded name was used by the Cuban women to frighten their
unruly children, again attacked Havana, reduced the fortress, and sacked
the church and city. Terrible stories are told of the outrages and
murders which he committed, and of his hair-breadth escape from being
captured, which he owed to a Spanish lady who had fallen desperately in
love with him. After the departure of Sores and his gang, Havana and the
other growing cities of the island were fortified afresh, so that when
Drake arrived in 1555, he thought twice before attacking the capital,
and sailed away without firing a shot. In 1589 Philip II. built two
castles, the Morro and Los tres Reyes (The Three Kings), designed by
Giovanni Batista Antonelli, an Italian architect in his employ. These
exist to this day, though, of course, greatly modified, especially of
late years, by being adapted to modern purposes of warfare. Havana now
had become too strong for the buccaneers, and although they frequently
threatened it, they dared not venture near enough to do much harm. The
town repulsed the persistent attack of the Dutch Admiral, Jolls, who
menaced it from August to September 1628.
During the seventeenth century, Havana and the other large towns of Cuba
were greatly extended, surrounded by walls (portions of which, as well
as the picturesque old gates, were recently standing), and soon became
renowned throughout the West Indies for their wealth and luxury. The
long series of Spanish Governors, or Captains-General, as they were and
are still called, made a point of importing splendid equipages, plate,
china, and even pictures by the great Spanish masters. When His
Excellency went abroad, it was in a gilded coach, not unlike that of our
Lord Mayor, drawn by twelve mules, caparisoned in yellow, red, and
gold, the national colours of the kingdom. A host of slaves of every
tint, wearing gorgeous liveries, followed, some on horseback, others
running by the side of the sumptuous vehicle. Trumpeters preceded, and
men in armour closed the procession. His Excellency's consort, who had
to enact the part of Vice-Queen, was instructed, before leaving Madrid,
in all the formidable etiquette of the Spanish court. Those members of
noble Spanish families who had established themselves, at an early
period, in the colony, continued to bear their titles, and formed an
aristocracy which held aloof from the untitled planters, and attended
the court of the Governor with all the state it could possibly assume.
These magnates, likewise, went abroad in gilded coaches, drawn by four,
six, and even eight richly caparisoned mules, and had their trains of
gaily liveried slaves. Horses were at one time scarce in the island, but
before the end of the seventeenth century they were numerous enough, and
the volante, a picturesque carriage, evidently a modification of a
similar vehicle then in use in the Peninsula, made its first appearance.
Another feature of those days, which has long since disappeared, was the
state barges which served to convey the rich and highly-born across the
harbour, and which, if I may rely on a contemporary engraving now before
me, were richly carved and gilded, and rowed by as many as twenty
oarsmen in gaudy costumes. In another print, dated 1670, representing
the market-place at Havana, a number of ladies are seen wearing the old
Spanish costume, farthingale and mantilla _au grand complet_, as we see
them in the pictures of Velasquez, and attended by slaves carrying
China silk parasols with deep fringes, to shield their mistresses from
the sun. In one corner a slave is being sold, while in another a sacred
image is carried in procession by a number of friars. Half-naked negroes
are running about hawking bananas, oranges, and pineapples. To the left
of the market-place is a church, now no longer in existence, which must,
I presume, have been that of San Domingo, annexed to which were the
prisons of the Holy Office, which undesirable institution was
established early in the 16th century, soon after the foundation of the
colony. It worked in Cuba with as much fierce cruelty as in all the
other Spanish dominions, and _autos da fA(C)_ of heretics and heathens were
a frequent form of entertainment. Early, too, in the 17th century, a
good-sized theatre, where the plays of Calderon and Lope de Vaga were
doubtless performed, was opened in Havana. In Holy Week, _autos_, or
sacred dramas, were given in the open, "weather permitting." In a word,
Havanese life, in those far-off times, was a reflection of life in Spain
as it has been depicted by Cervantes and Lesage, and the Countess
d'Aulnoy.
Very soon after the Conquest, the Church obtained large grants of
valuable property, and down to the first quarter of the present century
a good fifth of the island was Church property. Most of the great
religious orders were represented--including the Benedictines and the
Carthusians. The Franciscan and Dominican friars had a number of
priories in various parts of the island, and were much esteemed by the
people, whom they steadily befriended. To their credit, be it recorded,
the Dominican friars occupied themselves a great deal with the condition
of the slaves, obtained the freedom of many, and redressed the wrongs of
thousands. The Jesuits made their first appearance very soon after the
creation of their celebrated order. They established themselves in
Havana, Santiago, Matanzas, and Puerto Principe, where they opened
Colleges for the education of the sons of the upper classes. There were
also many nunneries, peopled generally by sisters from Europe, who
educated the daughters of the wealthy, and gave primary instruction to
the children of the people. As is usually the case in Catholic
countries, numbers of churches were built, some of them of considerable
architectural pretensions, in the well-known Hispano-American style, of
which many excellent examples are still extant, not only in Havana, but
throughout the whole of South America. Some of the more popular shrines,
like that of Neustra SeA+-ora de Cobre, the Lourdes of Cuba, were, and are
still, rich in _ex votos_, in gold, silver, and even jewels.
The Holy Week ceremonies still remain rather crude reproductions of
those which annually attract so many hundreds of visitors to Seville.
But notwithstanding the existence of many learned and estimable prelates
and priests, the general character of the clergy in Cuba has been
indifferent, and I am afraid the Cubans have ever held the gorgeous
ceremonies of their Church in greater affection than her moral
teachings.
Up till 1788, the Cuban Church was ruled by a single bishop, but in
that year it was divided into two dioceses, each covering about one half
of the island. In 1804, Santiago, the eastern diocese, was raised to the
dignity of an archbishopric. The other, which contains the city of
Havana, still remains a bishopric.
The European revolutions of the end of the last and the beginning of the
present centuries had their effect on Cuba, and a great number of
monasteries and convents were closed, their inmates scattered, and their
property confiscated.
Unfortunately, the Inquisition, which had been implanted at an early
period everywhere in the Spanish colonies, with the object of compelling
the aborigines and the imported slaves to embrace Catholicism, was used
as a means of overawing refractory colonists, who were soon made aware
that either open or covert disapprobation of the proceedings of their
rulers was the most deadly of all heresies. From the middle of the 17th
century until the close of the 18th, the annals of the Havanese
Inquisition contain endless charges of heresy against native-born
Spaniards--charges which were in reality merely expressions of political
displeasure, and had nothing whatever to do with religion.
The palace of the Holy Office and its prisons, which stood close to the
Church of San Domingo, were destroyed many years ago, and are now
replaced by the old market-place of Cristina, once the scene of an
unusual number of _autos da fA(C)_--a favourite form of religious
entertainment in South America, it would appear, for in a curious old
book, dated 1683, which I picked up in Havana for a few pence, the
author complains of the dull times, "nobody, not even a negro, having
been burnt alive for nearly six months." A Havanese _auto da fA(C)_, in the
palmy days of Spanish supremacy, must have been quite a pretty sight,
including, as it did, an allegorical procession to the place of
execution, with children dressed in white as angels, and little nigger
boys as devils, tails and horns complete, dancing before the condemned,
who, of course, wore the traditional _san benito_, a sort of high mitre
and shirt, embellished with demoniacal representations of Satan and his
imps, capering amid flames and forked lightning. Then came the Governor
and his court, the civil and military officials, the clergy, the monks,
and the friars singing the seven penitential psalms--in a word,
everything "_muy grandiose y espectacolos_."
The early years of the 18th century were exceedingly prosperous for
Cuba. The buccaneers and pirates had almost entirely ceased from
troubling. The sugar trade was at its zenith, and although the Spanish
administration was vile, the governors rapacious, and the taxation
preposterous, colossal fortunes were made by the Cuban planters, and the
name of the island was synonymous with the idea of wealth and riotous
living. The Havanese carnival was almost as brilliant in its way as that
of Venice, and public and private gambling was tolerated on a scale
which attracted adventurers from all parts of the southern hemisphere.
Those were halcyon days, disturbed in 1762 by the rather unexpected
appearance, in the port of Havana, of an English war squadron of 32
sail, with 170 transports, bearing a considerable body of troops under
the command of his Grace of Albemarle and Sir George Picknell. This
formidable armament, altogether the largest America had yet seen, laid
siege to the city, which surrendered after an heroic defence of two
months' duration. The British troops were landed and marched on
Guanacaboa, from the heights of which place they fired down upon Morro
Castle and the city proper. The Spaniards made a fatal mistake--blocking
up the harbour by sinking two vessels at its mouth. This they did to
exclude the English and prevent the destruction of the Spanish fleet.
But though they did shut out the English they also imprisoned
themselves, and the enemy, seeing it was impossible for the Dons to
escape, even if they would, directed their whole attention to their land
attack. After a gallant struggle, the Spaniards, who numbered some
27,600 men, surrendered, and were permitted to march out of the city
with the honours of war, the spoil divided by the British amounting to
AL736,000. The English troops next took Matanzas, and remained in
possession of this portion of the island of Cuba for nine months, when,
by the Treaty of Paris, it was restored to Spain, in exchange for
Florida. During the British occupation the trade of the country was
greatly improved by the importation of slaves from other British
possessions and by the newcomers' superior knowledge of agriculture; so
that the invasion proved, on the whole, a distinct benefit to the
country, opening out a new era of prosperity for the Spaniards and
other colonists. It has been said, indeed, that the real prosperity of
the islands dates from our occupation, which ended July 18, 1763.
About 1765 there was a remarkable emigration of Frenchmen, partly from
Martinique and partly from the mother-country into Cuba. The new
colonists brought improved agricultural implements, and not a few of
them opened shops in the chief cities, and did a large trade in French
goods. Some French missionaries also arrived about the same time. These
were mostly Jesuits, who, when they had acquired the language, began to
preach practical sermons, which were greatly relished by the
inhabitants. The French introduced apiculture, a branch of industry
which has flourished ever since, and which has enabled the Cubans to
supply the neighbouring islands with wax candles at a much cheaper rate
than those hitherto imported from Europe. It is curious to notice, in
some of the old log-books still preserved, the numerous entries as to
the importation of wax candles made at Havana, to Jamaica, Trinidad, and
Nassau. In the log-book of the ship "Royal George," which was in the
harbour of Havana on 16th June 1810, I find this entry--"Sent two men
over to the town to purchase wax candles, which are very well made in
this city, and also 20 bars of French bees-wax, and some soap for
friends of mine in the Bahamas."
In 1763, France having ceded Luisiana to Spain, Don Antonio Alloa sailed
for New Orleans, to take possession in the name of Their Catholic
Majesties. He was so ill received as to be obliged to return forthwith
to Havana, where Marshall O'Reilly, an exile of Irish origin, organized
an expedition to Luisiana, and seized the capital, which, however, was
not held for very long.
A very interesting incident took place in 1776. The United States were
struggling for their independence, when their first embassy, headed by
the famous Benjamin Franklin, arrived in Paris in the spring of that
year, and solicited authorization from Louis XVI. to proceed to Madrid,
to implore Don Carlos III. to grant them the aid and protection of
Spain. Two members of the embassy, Messrs Arthur and Charles Lee, were
allowed to present themselves at court, and the king accorded them a
most gracious reception, and cordially promised them his support. His
Majesty permitted Mr John Jay, a prominent representative of the
American Congress, to remain in Madrid to continue negotiations, which
resulted in Spain's affording the Americans truly practical assistance
in the shape of money and men, the Spanish Minister for the Interior,
Conde de Florida-Blanca, making them several grants of money out of the
treasury. Permission was also given them to raise a corps of Spanish
volunteers, who proceeded to Cuba, where they were reinforced by Cubans,
and embarked thence for the States. These services were rewarded by the
Americans with expressions of unbounded gratitude. "The people of
America can never forget the immense benefit they have received from
King Carlos III.," said Washington, and a few years later, in 1780, a
messenger was sent from Congress to the Spanish King, carrying with him
an illuminated address of thanks and a new bill for AL100,000, which
they begged him to accept, "in the name of an everlastingly grateful
people." But even in those days there were doubts cast upon the "lasting
gratitude" of the American people. The Conde d'Aranda, the Ambassador at
Paris, wrote a letter to Florida-Blanca containing these significant
words:--"This American Republic was born a dwarf, but one day she will
become a giant. She will then forget the blessings she received from
France and Spain, and only think of her own aggrandisement."
The administration of Don Luis Las Casas, who arrived as Captain-General
in 1790, was one of the most brilliant epochs of Cuban history. With
indefatigable industry he promoted a number of public works of the first
importance, introduced the culture of indigo, extended the commercial
importance of the island by removing, as far as his authority permitted,
the trammels imposed upon it by the old system of ecclesiastical and
aristocratic privileges, and has left a glorious name in the long list
of Captains-General, only equalled by that of Tacon in our own century.
The great French Revolution produced a prodigious impression throughout
the whole of the West Indies. In many of the neighbouring islands,
especially in Jamaica and San Domingo, the negroes revolted, and the
action of Toussaint L'Ouverture, who had started as a Royalist, but who,
on the emancipation of the slaves in 1794, went over to the Republic,
was a subject of common talk in Havana, where the Spaniards had great
difficulty in suppressing a popular rising on the part of the Cubans,
who were already heartily disgusted with their maladministration. On
many of the plantations the more intelligent negroes, discovering that a
decree for the emancipation of slavery had been passed in the French
colonies, clamoured in vain for a like act of grace from the Spanish
Government, and finally rebelled, escaping into the woods, where they
formed themselves into bands, which soon became a dangerous nuisance,
and were ruthlessly suppressed by the cruel methods which have ever
characterised Spanish rule. Throughout the last quarter of the 18th
century the Cubans, as distinguished from the Spanish, manifested a
strong desire to free themselves from the oppression of the
mother-country, and not a few ardent spirits were made to feel the power
of the Holy Office, their patriotism being skilfully interpreted as
heresy, and punished accordingly. I think I am correct in considering
the year 1766 as the date of the commencement of the Cuban Independence
movement, which has lately culminated in a breach of the prolonged peace
of two continents. But this is a subject which will require another
chapter, and this brief history of Cuba must close, for the present, on
the threshold of the century which has only two more years to run--years
destined, in all probability, to witness the opening of a new era, one,
let us hope, of peace and prosperity for the Pearl of the Antilles.