CHAPTER XVI

We must consider, in order rightly to understand the situation of Cuba

at the beginning of the nineteenth century, and the momentous train of

incidents in her history which then began, the salient features of the

history of Spain at that time. The reign of Charles III. had temporarily

restored Spain to a place in the front rank of European powers, with

particularly close relations, through the Bourbon crowns of the two

countries, with France. But that rank was of brief duration. In 1788

Charles IV. came to the throne, one of the weakest, most vacillating and

most ignoble of princes, who was content to let his kingdom be governed

for him by his wife's notorious lover. A few years later the Bourbon

crown of France was sent to the guillotine, and then came the deluge, in

which Spain was overwhelmed and entirely wrecked.

The first Treaty of San Ildefonso in 1796 made Spain little better than

the vassal of France in the latter's war against Great Britain. That was

the work of Godoy, the "Prince of the Peace" and the paramour of the

queen. Against him Spain revolted in 1798 and he was forced to retire

from office, only to be restored to it by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1800.

Then came the second secret and scandalous Treaty of San Ildefonso, in

which Spain was the merest tool and dupe of France, or of Napoleon; and

in 1803 there followed another international compact under which Spain

agreed to pay France a considerable yearly subsidy. A few years later

occurred the French invasion, the abdication of Charles IV., the

accession, then merely nominal, of Ferdinand VII., the imposition of

Joseph Bonaparte, and the Peninsular War.

The effect of these events was two-fold, the two parts strongly

contrasting. On the one hand, the Spanish national spirit was aroused as

it had not been for many years. Napoleon's aggressions went too far. His

ambition overleaped itself. In their resistance and resentment the

Spanish people "found themselves" and rose to heights of patriotism

which they had not scaled before. Concurrently they began the

development of a liberal and progressive spirit of inestimable

significance. They demanded a constitution and the abolition of old

abuses which for generations had been stifling the life of the

Peninsula.

On the other hand, the prestige of Spain in her trans-Atlantic colonies

was hopelessly impaired, and her physical power to maintain her

authority in them was destroyed. With French and British armies making

the Peninsula their fighting ground, Spain had no armies to spare for

the suppression of Central and South American rebellions. Thus while

there was an auspicious renascence of national vigor at home, there was

an ominous decline of imperial authority abroad. The work of Miranda,

San Martin and Bolivar was thus facilitated and assured of success.

In domestic affairs, Spain showed some progress, even under her worst

rulers. Godoy, vile as he was, abolished the savagery of bull-fighting

and promoted the policing of cities and the paving and cleaning of

streets, some advance was made in popular education, and the

intellectual life of the nation began to emerge from the eclipse which

it had been suffering. Possibly the most significant achievement of all

was the development of an approximation to popular government, with an

attempt to unify Spain and the colonies; which latter came too late. The

Junta Central in January, 1809, declared that the American colonies were

an integral part of the Spanish Kingdom, and were not mere appanages of

the crown. This was revolutionary, but it was insisted upon by the

Junta, and practical steps were taken to make the principle effective.

The Junta was driven from Seville by Napoleon, whereupon it fled to

Cadiz, and there, in superb defiance of the invader and oppressor,

arranged for the assembling of a Cortes, or National Parliament, in

which the colonies should be fully represented. This body, a single

chamber, met in September, 1810, with elected representatives from the

American colonies, including Cuba. Owing to the difficulty of getting

deputies from America in time, however, men were selected in Spain to

represent the colonies at the opening of the session.

A tangled skein of history followed. The Cortes, though far from radical

in tone, was progressive and was sincerely devoted to the principle of

popular government, and it insisted upon the adoption of the

Constitution of 1812, under which the people were made supreme, with the

crown and the church in subordinate places. All Spaniards, in America as

well as in Europe, were citizens of the kingdom, and were entitled to

vote for members of the Cortes and were protected by a bill of rights.

In many respects it was one of the most liberal and enlightened

constitutions then existing in the world.

The first act of the wretched Ferdinand VII., however, when Napoleon

permitted him to return to Spain, was to decree the abrogation of this

constitution and the establishment of a most repressive and reactionary

régime which liberals were cruelly persecuted. The result of this was

to promote the revolution which had already begun in America, and to

provoke a revolution in the Peninsula itself; in the face of which

latter Ferdinand pretended to yield and to consent to the summoning of

another Cortes and the reestablishment of the Constitution of 1812.

These things were effected in 1820. But the false and fickle Ferdinand

made his appeal to the reactionary sovereigns of the Holy Alliance, with

the result that in 1823 the French invaded Spain to suppress Liberalism,

and those preparations were made for the resubjugation of Spain's

American colonies which were frustrated by the promulgation of the

Monroe Doctrine in the United States.

Meantime all the Spanish colonies on the American continents had not

only declared but had actually achieved their independence. There were

left to Spain in all the Western Hemisphere, therefore, only the islands

of Cuba and Porto Rico; and they remained intensely loyal. When the

legitimate King of Spain was deposed in favor of Joseph Bonaparte, Cuba

made it plain and emphatic that she would not recognize the French

usurper, but would remain true to Ferdinand VII. Again, when the

colonies of Central and South America seceded and declared their

independence, Cuba remained loyal to the kingdom. It was because of

these two acts that Cuba became known at the Spanish Court as "Our Ever

Faithful Isle."

For this contrast between Cuba and the rest of Spanish America there

were three major reasons. One was, the insular position of Cuba, which

separated her from the other Spanish provinces and their direct

influence and cooperation, and which thus placed her at an enormous

disadvantage for any revolutionary undertakings. The second was the

character of the people. The Spanish settlers of Cuba had come chiefly

from Andalusia and Estremadura, and were the very flower of the Iberian

race, and from them had descended those who after three centuries were

entitled to be regarded as the Cuban people. They retained unimpaired

the finest qualities of the great race that in the sixteenth century had

made Spain all but the mistress of the world, and they still cherished a

chivalric loyalty to the spirit and the traditions of that wondrous age.

In other colonies the settlement was more varied. Men had flocked in

from Galicia and Catalonia, with a spirit radically different from that

of Andalusians and Estremadurans. To this day the contrast between

Cubans and the people of any other Latin-American state is obvious and

unmistakable.

The third reason was this, that in the years, perhaps a full generation,

preceding the South and Central American revolt, Spain had manifested

toward Cuba a disposition and actual practices well calculated to

confirm that country in its loyalty and in its expectation of enjoying

liberty and prosperity under the Spanish crown in an age of Spanish

renascence. With the brief English occupation, indeed, the modern

history of Cuba began in circumstances of the most auspicious character.

The English opened Havana to the trade of the world and caused it to

realize what its possibilities were of future expansion and greatness.

Then the Spanish government, reestablished throughout the island, for a

time showed Cuba marked favor. The old-time trade monopoly, which had

been destroyed by the English, was abandoned in favor of a liberal and

enlightened policy. Commerce, industry and agriculture were encouraged,

even with bounties. Cuba was made to feel that there were very practical

advantages in being a colony of Spain.

Moreover, the island enjoyed a succession of capable and liberal

governors, or captains-general; notably Luis de las Casas at the end of

the eighteenth century, and the Marquis de Someruelos in the first dozen

years of the nineteenth century. Under benevolent administrators and

beneficent laws, and with Spain herself adopting the liberal

constitution of 1812, Cuba had good cause to remain loyal to the Spanish

connection.

But these very same conditions and circumstances ultimately made Cuba

supremely resolute in her efforts for independence. The men of

Andalusian and Estremaduran ancestry had been loyal to Spain, but they

were just as resolute in their loyalty to Cuba when they were once

convinced that there must be a breach of relations. The same

characteristics that made their ancestors the leaders of the Spanish

race in adventure and in conquest made them now equally ready to be

leaders in the great adventure of conquering the independence of Cuba

from Spain. And if the liberal laws and policy of Spain, and the

Constitution of 1812, had greatly commended Spanish government to them,

the restored Spanish king's flat repudiation of all those things equally

condemned that government.

We must therefore reckon the rise of the spirit of Cuban independence

from the date on which Ferdinand VII. repudiated the constitution which

he had sworn to defend. From 1812 to 1820 that spirit passed through the

period of gestation, and in the years following the latter date it was

born and began to make its vitality manifest. The king's pretended

repentance and readoption of the Constitution of 1812 in 1820 came too

late, and when it was followed by several years of alternating weakness

and violence, and by the French intervention in 1823, the Cuban

resolution for independence was formed. To that resolution, once formed,

Cuba clung with a persistence which for the third time entitled her to

the name of "Ever Faithful Isle." But now it was to herself that she was

faithful.

[Illustration: JUAN JOSÉ DIAZ ESPADA

Born at Arroyave, Spain, on April 20, 1756, and educated at Salamanca,

Juan José Diaz Espada y Landa entered the priesthood of the Roman

Catholic Church, and on January 1, 1800, was Bishop of Cuba. Much more

than a mere churchman, he applied himself with singular ability and

energy to the promotion of the mental and physical welfare of the people

as well as to their religious culture. He strongly assisted Dr. Tomas

Romay in introducing vaccination into the island and in the prosecution

of other sanitary measures, and was one of the foremost patrons of

education. He also gave much attention to the correction of abuses which

had grown up in the ecclesiastical administration. He died on August 13,

1832, leaving a record for good works second to that of no other

ecclesiastic in the history of Cuba.]

Seldom, indeed, has there been an era in the history of the world more

strongly suited to cause the rise of a revolutionary spirit in such a

people as the Cubans, than was the early part of the nineteenth century.

We have already referred to the United States of America and its

attitude toward Cuba and Cuban affairs. That country had achieved its

independence in circumstances scarcely more favorable than would be

those of a Cuban revolt; and it presently waged another war which made

it formidable among the nations. On the other hand, all Europe was in

war-ridden chaos, with the rights of peoples to self-determination made

a sport of autocrats. There was nothing more evident than that

republicanism was the policy of order, stability and progress. The

United States had just forced Spain to sell Louisiana to France, and

then had forced France to sell it to itself. That was an object lesson

which was not lost upon thoughtful Cubans any more than upon the peoples

of Central and South America. It demonstrated that the power of Spain

was waning, and that the dominant power in the western world was that of

Republicanism. And Cubans, as well as others, were not blind to the

practical advantages of being on the winning side.

Indeed, before that Cuba had had another great object lesson. At the

middle of the eighteenth century the English had seized Havana. That in

itself indicated clearly the decline of Spain and her inability to

protect or even to hold her own colonies. But the English force which

achieved that stroke was by no means purely English. It was largely

composed of Americans, soldiers from the British Colonies in North

America who were, of course, British subjects but who were more and more

calling themselves Americans; and who in course of time altogether

rejected British rule and established an independent republic. First,

then, Spain was beaten by England; and next England was beaten by the

United States. Obviously the latter was the power to whom to look for

guidance and support.

There were still other circumstances making toward the same end. We have

remarked upon the puissant opulence of Spanish intellectuality in the

first century of her possession of Cuba, and upon, also, the paucity of

native Cuban achievements in letters. But in the seventeenth century a

decline of Spanish letters and art began, with ominous progression,

until at the end of the eighteenth century and the beginning of the

nineteenth the very nadir of intellectual life had been reached. This

was the more noteworthy and the more significant because of the contrast

which the Peninsula thus presented to other lands. Elsewhere throughout

Europe and in America that was an era of great and splendid intellectual

activity. In almost every department of letters, science and art fine

deeds, original and creative, were being done. The colossal military

operations that convulsed the world from the beginning of the American

Revolution to the fall of Napoleon sometimes blind our eyes and deaden

our ears to what was then done in the higher walks of life; but the fact

is that probably in no other equal space of time in the world's history

was the mind of man more fecund, in both theory and practice.

In science that era was adorned with the names of Priestly, Jenner,

Herschel, Montgolfier, Fulton, Whitney, Volta, Pestalozzi, Piazzi, Davy,

Cuvier, Oersted, Stevenson, Humboldt, Lavoisier, Buffon, Linnaeus. In

music, Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven. In literature the annals of

those days read like a recapitulation of universal genius: Goethe, Kant,

Herder, Lessing, Diderot, Voltaire, Rousseau, De Stael, Chateaubriand,

Beranger, Lamartine, Burns, Scott, Goldsmith, Johnson, Adam Smith,

Keats, Shelley, Byron, Colderidge, Lamb, Alfieri, Richter, Niebuhr,

Derzhavin. The steamboat and the railroad came into existence. The

Institute of France, the University of France, and the University of

Berlin were founded. As on more than one other occasion political and

military activity, in the direction of liberal revolution, stimulated

intellectuality and made invention and letters vie with arms.

Amid all this, Spain alone stood singular in her decline. Not one name

of the first rank adorned her annals. In the two departments of letters

which perhaps most of all reflect the national mind and spirit, lyrical

poetry and the drama, she was almost entirely lacking. Most of such

writers as she had seemed content to copy weakly French examples. And

even when the Spanish people rose with splendid patriotic energy against

the tyranny of Napoleon, fought their war of independence, and strove to

establish their liberal Constitution of 1812 upon the wreck of broken

Bourbonism, there was scarcely a glimmer of intellectual inspiration

such as those deeds might have been expected to produce. It was reserved

for later years, even for our own time, for Spanish letters to regain a

place of mastery amid the foremost of the world.

Meantime the intellectual life of Cuba was beginning to dawn. As early

as 1790 a purely literary journal of fine rank, _El Papel Periodico_,

was founded in Havana, and during many years contained contributions of

sterling merit. As these were all unsigned, their authorship remains

chiefly unknown. We know, however, that among them were two poets of

real note, Manuel Justo de Rubalcava and Manuel de Zequiera y Arango.

These were not, it is true, native Cubans. They were Spaniards from New

Granada. But with many others from the South and Central American

provinces they became fully identified with Cuban life and Cuban

aspirations. In the third year of the nineteenth century, too, there was

born of Spanish refugee parents from Santo Domingo, Cuba's greatest poet

and indeed the greatest poet in Spanish literature in that century, José

Maria Heredia. True, he called himself a Spaniard, in the spirit of the

"Ever Faithful Isle," and referred to Spain as his "Alma Mater." He was

in his youth a passionate partisan of the liberal movement in the

Peninsula, especially of the revolution led by Riego, and his earliest

poems were written in support of that ill-fated struggle and in scathing

denunciation of the French oppressor of Spain and of those unworthy

Spaniards who consented to the suppression in blood of the rising cause

of liberty. A little later these very poems were equally applicable to

the situation in Cuba, when the people of that island began to rise

against their Spanish oppressors, and when a certain element among them

consented to oppression. Thereafter his writings were largely the

literary inspiration of Cuban patriotism; and he himself was doomed by

Spain to perpetual banishment from the island of his birth.

One other factor in the situation must be recalled. During the period

which we are now considering Cuba was the asylum for a strangely mingled

company of both loyalists and revolutionists; with the former probably

predominating. When Spain lost Santo Domingo to France, many of the

Spanish inhabitants of that island removed to Cuba; and when the island

under Toussaint rose against Spain, there was a flight of both Spanish

and French in the same direction. Also, when one after another of the

Spanish provinces on the continent began to revolt, Cuba was sought as

an asylum. Spanish loyalists came hither to escape the revolution which

they did not approve; and it is quite possible that they were in

sufficient numbers materially to affect the course and determination of

the island, first in standing by Ferdinand against Napoleon and later in

declining to join the revolutionists of the American continents. Yet not

a few of these became in a short time imbued with Cuban patriotism and

cast in their lot with the natives of the island.

There were also many revolutionary refugees, who sought asylum in Cuba

when their cause seemed not to be prospering in other lands. As we shall

see, the first important Cuban revolutionist, Narciso Lopez, came from

Venezuela; and there were others from that country, and from Guatemala

and Mexico; sufficient to exert much influence in insular affairs.

It was in these strangely diverse and complex circumstances that Cuba

entered the third great era of her existence. She was still a Spanish

colony, and she was still a potential pawn in the international games of

diplomacy and war. But she had at last gravitated politically toward the

American rather than the European system, and she had begun to develop a

spirit of individual nationality which was destined after many years and

many labors to assure her a place among the sovereign states of the

Western Hemisphere.

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