  CUBA PAST AND PRESENT CHRISTOPHORUS COLUMBUS LIGURINDI.
CUBA | |||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
| PAGE | |||
| Preface | v | ||
| Chapter | I. | THE ISLAND | 1 |
| " | II. | POPULATION | 14 |
| " | III. | A BRIEF HISTORY OF THE ISLAND | 39 |
| " | IV. | THE BEGINNINGS OF THE REBELLION | 65 |
| " | V. | HISTORY OF REBELLION UP-TO-DATE | 93 |
| " | VI. | HAVANA AND THE HAVANESE | 121 |
| " | VII. | MATANZAS | 148 |
| " | VIII. | CIENFUEGOS | 161 |
| " | IX. | TRINIDAD AND SANTIAGO DE CUBA | 173 |
| " | X. | SOME WEIRD STORIES | 193 |
| " | XI. | PLANTATION LIFE | 205 |
| " | XII. | AN ISLE OF JUNE—A CONTRAST | 224 |
| Appendix | I. | THE BOYHOOD OF COLUMBUS | 237 |
| " | II. | SOME UNEDITED DOCUMENTS CONNECTED WITH THE HISTORY OF THE WEST INDIES | 257 |
| Footnotes | |||
| ILLUSTRATIONS | ||
|---|---|---|
| Portrait of Columbus | Frontispiece | |
| Havana | to face | 121 |
| MATANZAS | " | 148 |
| SANTIAGO | " | 173 |
| MAP OF CUBA | at end of Book | |
| click on any image to view it enlarged (n. of etext transcriber) | ||
CUBA PAST AND PRESENT
CHAPTER I.
The Island.
CUBA, "the Pearl of the Antilles" and the key to the Gulf of Mexico, is not only the largest, but the most important and the wealthiest island in the West Indian Archipelago. Its curious shape has been aptly compared to that of a bird's tongue,—a parrot's by preference. From Point Maisi, at one extremity, to Cape San Antonio, at the other, it describes a curve of 900 miles, being, at its greatest breadth, only 120 miles from sea to sea. It is traversed throughout its Eastern province by a range of mountains, which, according to Humboldt, continue under the Ocean, and emerge thence in British Honduras, to receive the somewhat unromantic appellation of the Coxcombe Chain,—another proof, if such were needed, of the fact that, in prehistoric times, this island, together with its numerous neighbours, formed part of the main Continent.
The coast of Cuba, on either side beyond the range of the Sierra Maestra, is singularly indented and irregular; and by reason of its innumerable tiny bays, capes, peninsulas, shallows, reefs, "cays," promontories, and islets, presents, on the map, the appearance of a deep curtain fringe. The surface measurement of the island is fully 35,000 square miles. In other words, it is a little bigger than Portugal, or somewhat over a fourth the size of Spain.[1]
The Sierra Maestra range rises from the coast, out of the Ocean, with grand abruptness, immediately opposite the sister island of Jamaica. It here presents much the same stately and varied panorama as may be admired on the Genoese Riviera, and, by a series of irregular terraces, reaches the Ojo del Toro, or the "Sources of the Bull," where it suddenly drops towards the centre of the chain, whence it sends up one exceedingly lofty peak, the Pico Turquino, rising 6900 feet above the sea. From this point the range diminishes in height again, until it reaches the valley of the Cauto River, whence it runs in a straight line to Santiago de Cuba, after which it rapidly declines in height, and loses itself in the unwholesome Guananamo Marshes. A section of this range is popularly known, on account of its mineral wealth, as the Sierra de Cobre, or Copper Chain. Its principal peak, La Gran Piedra, so called from a huge block of conglomerate perched upon its extreme summit, is about 5200 feet high. None of the numerous peaks and crags of the Sierra Maestra and the Cobre Ranges show the least trace of recent volcanic eruption, although limestone is found high up among the mountains, and alarming earthquakes are of frequent occurrence, notably in the province of Santiago. At the eastern extremity of the island are a number of isolated mountains, linked together by low-lying hills. Two other ranges of hills exist, in the neighbourhood of Matanzas, and at the back of Havana, but although they present an imposing appearance from the seaboard, at no single point do they exceed a height of 1000 feet. The mountain ranges occupy about one-third of the island; the other two-thirds are more or less spreading and fairly well cultivated plains and level valleys, but even these fertile regions are broken by lagoons and marshes, like those in the Campagna.
Until quite late in the last century, coffee and tobacco were the principal objects of the planter's care and industry, but in 1786 the French refugees from San Domingo persuaded the Cubans to extend their sugar plantations, and sugar very soon became the staple cultivation of the country. Next to sugar, tobacco and coffee are the chief products, but cotton is also grown, but not very extensively. Cocoa and indigo have received considerable attention lately, and maize has always been one of the absolute necessaries of life, and may be described as the bread of the country; cereals have no place in its husbandry, and are imported, for the most part, unfortunately, from Spain, which country holds a monopoly, which has had its share in bringing about the unhappy civil war of the last three years. As the negroes and the poor whites have rarely, if ever, tasted wheat flour, its absence is not felt by them, but it is an absolute necessity to the upper classes and to the foreigners. Yams, bananas, guavas, oranges, mangoes, and pineapples, are the chief fruits cultivated for exportation. The decline in the popularity of mahogany as a furniture wood in America and Europe—a mere freak of fashion—has been greatly felt. It used to be a most valuable product, and was exported in great quantities, especially to England,—the Cuban variety being considered the finest.
The mountain regions of Cuba are extremely picturesque, but very sparsely populated, and, for the most part, little known. Their slopes are often covered by forests or jungles, whose rich vegetation, constantly moistened by innumerable springs, rivulets, and heavy dews, is rankly luxuriant. Immense mineral wealth is supposed to be hidden in the heart of these mountains, but, though the copper mines are fairly well worked, neither gold nor silver have yet been discovered in any quantity, notwithstanding the ancient and persistent tradition as to their abundance.
The entire coast of Cuba is protected, in a measure, by coralline and rocky reefs, "cays," and muddy shallows, which stretch out into the sea for miles. These are most dangerous, and have often, in stormy weather, proved fatal to large vessels, as well as to small fishing craft. Some of these banks are really fair-sized islands, covered with beautiful vegetation, but, as a rule, they are only inhabited by fishermen, and that merely at certain seasons of the year. In many localities the sea is very deep quite close in-shore, and offers excellent harbours and refuges for vessels plying on the busiest sea-road in the Western Hemisphere. The most important of the numerous outlying islands is La Isla dos Pinos, a famous health resort, where, for some unaccountable reason, the pine-tree of our northern regions flourishes to perfection amid tropical surroundings.
Every part of Cuba is supplied with fresh water. There are several fairly broad, though shallow rivers. The Cauto, which takes its rise in the Sierra Maestra, and flows into the sea at the mouth of Manzanillo Bay, is about 130 miles in length, and navigable for small craft. The only other rivers of any importance are the Sagua Grande and the Sagua Chica. Neither of these is navigable, even for small craft, except for a week or so at the close of the rainy season. Springs and streams of exquisitely pure water are to be found in incredible abundance. Indeed, the island has been described as consisting of a series of vast caverns rising over huge reservoirs of fresh water, and the number of caves and grottoes to be found circling over pools of limpid water is really remarkable. In the mountains there are lovely waterfalls, amongst which the cascades of the Rosario are the most celebrated. A number of fair-sized lakes add considerably to the beauty of the scenery in the interior of the island, and, what is more, they are well stocked with a variety of fish of delicious flavour.
Cuba is phenomenally free from noxious animals and reptiles. Columbus only found two quadrupeds of any size on the whole island—a sort of barkless dog, the guaquinaji, possibly a racoon,[2] and a long-bodied squirrel. Many imported domestic animals, such as the horse, the pig, the dog, the cat, and the goat, have in the course of time run wild, and are to be found in great numbers in the densest parts of the forests in the interior. Our canine friend has modified himself considerably since he first landed on Cuban soil. He has dwindled, on the one hand, into the tiny Havanese toy spaniel, and has developed on the other into the colossal molasso, which was constantly employed, but a few years back, in the highly humane sport of slave-hunting. The prehistoric sportsman, however, must, if he was an amateur of big game, have had a good time of it in Cuba, for fossils of mastadons, elephants, hippopotami, and other large and uncanny beasts of the antediluvian world, who have joined the majority countless ages ago, are still constantly to be found.
Some members of the bat family grow to an enormous size, their wings measuring from a foot to a foot and a half from tip to tip. I remember one night, on a plantation near Puerto Principe, one of these most unpleasant monsters flopped through my bedroom window on to the floor. For a few moments I was convinced that I had received a visitation either from Minerva's very own owl or from a dusky cherub.
With the sole exception of a rather long, but not particularly harmful boa, venomous or dangerous snakes are, I was assured, not to be found anywhere on the island. This, however, is a popular error, for in most of the sugar plantations there dwells a small red asp, whose bite is exceedingly dangerous. The creature may not be indigenous; he may have come over with the first sugar-canes from San Domingo. According to the Cubans, imported reptiles, even after a short residence on their native soil, become innocuous, and it must be confessed that the scorpion, which is disagreeably prominent in the island, is less hurtful here than elsewhere. As I happen to have been bitten both by an Italian and a Cuban scorpion, I am in a position to know something about the matter. The Italian rascal stung me in the foot, and sent me to bed with a frightful pain, and a fever which lasted a week. The Cuban gentleman nipped my finger, caused me awful agony, the arm swelling up to twice its size; but I had no fever, neither was I obliged to seek my bed. My Cuban wound, I, remember, was rubbed with a decoction of deceased scorpions, preserved in oil, which certainly soothed the pain, and, further, I was plentifully dosed with Kentucky whisky. In a few hours the suffering passed off, and, after two days of extraordinary numbness in all parts of the body, I completely recovered. My private opinion is that the cure was effected by the decoction of defunct scorpions, and that no difference really exists between the poisonous qualities of the European and the Cuban reptile.
If Cuba possesses no very obnoxious reptiles, their absence is amply atoned for by the surprising collection of annoying insects of all sorts and kinds. The Cuban mosquitoes must be heard, seen, and felt, before they can be imagined. I had hitherto thought the Venetian zanzare diabolical pests enough in all conscience, but, when compared with their Cuban brethren, they stand as angels to demons. Then there are irritating jiggers, ants, giant wasps, infernal little midges, spiders as big as the crown of your hat, and other disreputable gentry who shall be nameless, and who, I learn on good authority, were first imported into our own unsuspecting continent from the West Indies. Alas! they are with us still! In Cuba they haunt the woods and gardens, secrete themselves in the turn-up of your trousers, and in the train of your skirt. They soon let you know their whereabouts, I can assure you! Two very remarkable insects deserve special mention. One is the large "vegetable bee," a member of the bee family, condemned by nature to carry an umbrella-shaped fungus of the Clavara tribe on his back, and the other, the superb cucullo, a monster fire-fly, who emits rays of light from two eyes on his back and one in his breast. Three of these creatures under a glass shade suffice to illumine a moderate-sized room, and, if it were not for the rhythmical flickering glare produced by the breathing of the insects, it would be easy to read by their extraordinary glow.
The Cuban birds are identical with those found in other West Indian islands. Among the great variety of humming-birds, only one is recognised as indigenous to the island. All sorts of tropical fish abound, both in the sea, in the rivers, and the lakes. On the latter, the rather exciting sport of tortoise-hunting may be enjoyed, and the sportsman may chance an unpleasant encounter with the dangerous, but easily avoided cayman. Most Cuban travellers make acquaintance with the frightful-looking, but perfectly harmless iguana, at some friend's house, where he occasionally joins the family circle in the capacity of prime domestic pet. As to the lizards, they are exceedingly well represented, both in gardens and in woods, from the charming, bright-eyed little metallic green and blue opidian, to a very large and ugly brown old lady and gentleman—they usually go abroad in pairs—to be met with in your walks, and which the uninitiated are apt to mistake for a couple of miniature crocodiles. But they are simply very large and harmless lizards, with prodigiously long Latin names. Then, too, there is the interesting and ever-changing cameleon, and the pretty striped flying squirrel, and the delightful little dormouse, a long-established native of the island, well beknown, it would seem, to Christopher Columbus and his companions, who have condescended to make special mention of his timid, yet friendly presence.
As to the flora, it is surpassingly beautiful. I shall have occasion to return to it at greater length, and will only say in this place that it embraces nearly every variety of plant, flower, and fern known in the tropical and sub-tropical zones. European fruits, flowers, and vegetables can be easily and largely cultivated on the highest plateaux of the Sierra Maestra.
The climate of Cuba is, for the tropics, a very tolerable one, quite enjoyable indeed from November to the beginning of May, during which time the heat is rarely oppressive. The summer season is extremely enervating, and in many parts of the island actually dangerous, on account of the excessive heat and the incessant torrents of rain, which together create an unhealthy steaming miasma. The forests, with their prodigious stratas of decaying vegetation, emit, especially in summer, unwholesome malarial vapours, and the lagoons and marshes on the broads are sometimes hidden for days at a time by a dense and deadly but perfectly white fog. Yellow fever is said not to have made its appearance till 1761; at any rate it is from that date only that it has been regarded as a distinct disease indigenous to the island. The deadly vomito nigro has often appeared in various parts of Cuba in epidemic as well as isolated form. It rarely if ever attacks the negroes, but has proved only too fatal to newcomers.[3] I cannot help thinking that it is mainly due to the filthy habits of a people unacquainted with the hygienic laws, and who do not object to have their latrines in the middle of their kitchens, and to a general system of drainage, which, even in the capital and in the other principal towns, is wretchedly antiquated. Dysentery annually carries off a great number of European colonists, especially children, and cholera very frequently decimates the blacks and Chinese, without doing the slightest injury to the whites among whom they live. The wholesomest parts of the island are in the eastern provinces, where yellow fever rarely makes its appearance. This is simply due to a healthy combination of sea and mountain breezes. The outlying island of Pinos, already mentioned, is remarkably healthy, no epidemic ever having been known there, and it is, consequently, a favourite resort with the wealthier Cubans and European colonists, who have built charming cottages amongst its fragrant pine-groves.
I am quite persuaded that Cuba could be rendered fairly healthy by proper irrigation and drainage. The towns are nearly all without proper drains, and the inhabitants are generally very uncleanly in their habits, although well-managed public baths abound. Like most members of the Latin family, the Cubans seem to have a horror of cold water, and rarely indulge in a "tub." On the other hand, to do them justice, at certain seasons of the year they seem never out of the sea, which is often so warm that you can stop in it for hours without getting a chill. However, whether they wash or not matters little, for even in the best regulated families their hygienic habits apparently are indescribably filthy. Add to this state of affairs the still dirtier practices of the immense negro and coolie population, and a faint idea may be formed of the real cause of the unhealthiness of the place. I have often wondered that the pest did not carry off half the population. It has occasionally done so, and Yellow-Jack is always seeking whom he may devour,—generally some invalid from the United States, who has come out in search of health, or some over-robust European emigrant. As an illustration of the rapidity with which this fell disease overcomes its victims, I will relate an incident which occurred during my first visit to the island, very many years ago. On board the ship which conveyed us from New York to Havana was a certain Senator L...., well known in New York and Washington for his good looks and caustic wit. In his youth he had been engaged to a lovely Cuban girl, whose parents had sternly rejected his suit, and had obliged their young daughter to marry a wealthy planter very much her senior. She had recently become a widow, and our friend, who had already been to Havana to lay his fortune at her feet, and had been accepted, was hastening back to claim her as his bride. On our arrival in Havana we all breakfasted together, the party including the still very handsome widow DoÑa Jacinta. In the afternoon the bridegroom went sketching in the market-place. Yellow-Jack laid his hand on him, and before morning he was dead! The funeral took place on the very day appointed for the wedding. I shall never forget the procession. The whole of Havana turned out to witness it. The church of the Merced, where the Requiem was sung, was so crowded that several persons were seriously injured. The floral offerings were of surprising beauty. All the Donnas in the town, in their thousands, accompanied the cortÈge conveying the coffin to the port, where it was placed on an American steamer to be taken to New York for burial. The local papers contained many really charming sonnets and poems addressed to the afflicted DoÑa Jacinta, who, by the way, some time afterwards followed her lover's body to New York, and there became a Little Sister of the Poor.
CHAPTER II.
Population.
THERE must have been people in Cuba in the very night of time, for some prehistoric race has left its trace behind. Numerous stone implements of war and agriculture, closely resembling those so frequently found in various parts of Europe, have been unearthed, near Bayamo, in the Eastern Province. Then, again, within the last thirty years, a number of caneyes or pyramidical mounds, covering human remains, many of them in a fossilized condition, have been discovered in the same part of the island. Specimens of rude pottery, bearing traces of painting, have also been dug up in various places, and I have in my possession a little terra-cotta figure, representing an animal not unlike an ant eater, which was found in the neighbourhood of Puerto Principe, and exhibited in the Colonial Exhibition of 1886. Many small earthenware images of a god, wearing a kind of cocked hat, and bearing a strong resemblance to Napoleon I., are often picked up in out-of-the-way places, but we have no other evidence that the ancient Cubans were blessed with any conspicuous knowledge of the fine arts. The majority of the friendly Indians who greeted Columbus on his first landing are believed to have spoken the same language as the Yucayos of the Bahamas, and the aboriginal natives of Hayti and Jamaica. Grijalva declares they used a language similar to that of the natives of Yucatan—at any rate, on his first expedition into that country, he was accompanied by some Cubans, who made themselves understood by the inhabitants. Although Columbus mentions the good looks of the early Cubans with admiration, there is every reason to believe that the Discoverer flattered them considerably. They seem to have been men of medium height, broad-shouldered, brown-skinned, flat-featured, and straight-haired. The women are described as better looking than the men, and do not appear to have disfigured themselves by ornamental cheek slashes and other hideous tattooing. They were, as we have already seen, an amiable set of savages, quite innocent of cannibal tastes. Their huts were made of palm branches, and their cooking was performed in the most primitive fashion, over a wood fire, lighted in the open air. Some of their tribes, more advanced in civilization than others, wore aprons decorated with shells or with the seeds of the caruba, strung together in rather pretty designs.[4]
In order to understand the very complex matter known as the Cuban question, it is necessary for the reader to know something about the exceedingly mixed population of the island, whereof "Cubans" form by far the greater part. The present population, estimated at over 1,600,000, may be divided into six sections[5]:—The Cubans, the Spaniards, the Creoles, the foreigners, the coloured folk of African origin, of all shades, from the deepest ebon to the lightest cream, and the coolies or Chinese.
For three hundred years Cuba was exclusively inhabited by Spaniards, or people of Spanish descent. The political and religious conditions of the country were therefore far more favourable to peace and unity, and the island was much less difficult to govern, than in these troublous times of ours.
The "Cubanos" are the descendants of Spanish colonists, who have inhabited the island for at least two generations. The slightest admixture of African blood debars the enjoyment of this distinction. The first Spanish immigration into Cuba began very soon after the conquest of the island, and consisted mainly of adventurers who had accompanied the earlier expeditions, and who settled permanently in the country, after having returned to Spain, and transported their wives, and such members of their families as were ready to follow them, to their new homes. Almost all these individuals were either of Castilian or Andalusian origin. A few years later, emigrants began to come in from the Basque Provinces, and from Catalonia.
The descendants of these early colonists form the present aristocracy of Cuba, and many of them bear names which have cast lustre on Spanish history.[6]
Cuba was governed, for over three centuries, by the laws which bound the other Hispano-American colonies. These were framed by Philip II., and are still known as Las Leyes de Indias.
The unbending nature, and jealous religious orthodoxy of the Spaniards, offered scant encouragement to the establishment of settlers of any other race or faith. The Inquisition soon reigned in the island, in all its gloomy and mysterious horror. To its merciless pressure, and frequently cruel action, we may perhaps ascribe the instinctive hatred of the "powers that be"—so characteristic of the modern Cuban—even as hereditary memories of the doings of Mary Tudor and her Spaniard husband have implanted a sullen distrust of the Spanish nation in the breast of the average Englishman.
From the physical point of view, the Cubans are inferior to their Spanish forefathers, a fact which may be attributed, perhaps, to the effect of an enervating climate on successive generations. Still, it has been remarked that they do not seem to have deteriorated, intellectually, to the same extent as the descendants of the French and other European Creoles in the West Indies. They are lithe, active, and occasionally very good-looking, in spite of their pasty complexions and somewhat lustreless dark eyes. They are certainly more progressive in their ideas, and more anxious to educate their sons, at all events, to the highest possible standard, than are their Spanish cousins. A remarkable impetus was given to education in Cuba by the celebrated Las Casas, who governed the island from 1790. He increased the endowment of the University of Havana, which had been established in 1721, and greatly extended its sphere of action, by creating several important professorial chairs, and notably one of medicine. He assisted the Jesuits in improving their colleges. It should be noted, to the credit of this much maligned order, that the Fathers provided their pupils with a thorough classical education, and also instructed them in foreign languages.
During the great Revolutionary and Napoleonic periods there was considerable chaos in the island, and the vigilance of the censorship became so relaxed, that the large towns were flooded with French and Italian literature of an advanced kind, and the ex-pupils of the Jesuits devoured the translated works of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Beccaria with an avidity which must have sorely scandalized their orthodox instructors. The Voltarian spirit thus introduced amongst the better class of Cubans has endured to this day, and though they pay every outward respect to their religion, they are exceedingly sceptical both in thought and speech. During the last seventy years, again, the country has been overrun by Americans, who have introduced every form of Protestantism, from Episcopalianism to Quakerism, and even Shakerism. This large acquaintance with varied schools of religious thought has had its effect in broadening the horizon of the Cuban mind. Many young men are sent to schools and colleges in the United States, in England, in France, in Germany even, or else to the Jesuits' colleges at Havana and Santiago. Yet the mother country refused for years to admit even the best class of Cubans to any share in the administration of the island, and though within the last two decades this rule has been somewhat relaxed, the result, politically speaking, has not always been satisfactory, even to the natives. In the legal and medical professions they have attained brilliant success, and some very large fortunes have been made. The majority, however, follow the life of planters, or engage in mercantile pursuits. Here again there is cause for trouble. In bygone days the Spanish hidalgos were granted large estates in Cuba, and though they rarely visit the country, they still retain them, entrusting the management of their property to agents and overseers. Among these absentee landlords are the Aldamas, Fernandinas, dos Hermanos, Santovenios, and the Terres, whose palaces in the Cerro quarter of Havana have stood uninhabited for years, except, perhaps, for an occasional and rare winter visit. Still there are, or were, until quite lately, many wealthy Cuban planters who reside on their plantations, with their wives and families. A few years ago—I daresay it is so still, on such estates as have not been devastated by the Rebels or the Spaniards—the grown-up sons lived with their parents, each attending to a separate department of the plantation, until the father died. Then one of them—the eldest, as a rule—took over the whole estate, paying each of his brothers a proper proportion of his net yearly earnings, and if sufficient frugality was exercised, he was able to pay them a share of the original property into the bargain. But even when these events took place, they did not necessitate the separation of the family.
The Cubans are naturally a domestic and affectionate people, exceedingly happy in their home relations. In many a Hacienda, from one to four or five families will live most peaceably, under the same roof. The men, as a rule, make excellent husbands, and are passionately fond of their children, whom they are apt to spoil, and often ruin, by allowing the coloured servants to over-indulge them. In these patriarchal homesteads, the children, being not a little isolated from other society, become exceedingly attached to each other. When the girls attain a marriageable age they are placed in seclusion, under the charge of a governess, or else sent to one or other of the great convents in the Capital managed by French and Spanish nuns of the SacrÉ Coeur, Assumption, and Ursuline orders. The results of this system are not always fortunate. Premature marriages abound. Many a Cuban is a father before he is eighteen years of age, by a wife a couple of years his junior—a fact which may account, even more, perhaps, than the much-blamed tropical climate, for the physical inferiority of the race. Then again, as is invariably the case in slave countries, a pernicious laxity in morals is tolerated, and Cuban life, in cities and plantations alike, will not, I have been assured on good authority, bear too close investigation. If the ancestors were devoted to their Voltaire and their Jean Jacques, the modern descendants are equally zealous readers of all the most suggestive French and Italian novels. The fine literature of the mother country has never found much favour in Cuba, and the educated islanders are far more intimately acquainted with Zola, Gaboriau, Gyp, and Huyssman than with Cervantes, Calderon, Lope, and Fernan Cabalero. They do not even patronise their own national drama, preferring modern French and Italian plays. It is a curious fact that even really excellent Spanish troupes have failed to attract audiences in Havana, whereas French and Italian companies have done tremendous business during the few weeks of their stay in the city. I shall have occasion to speak elsewhere of the great love of music which has long distinguished the Cubans, whose principal Opera House has been kept up all through the century to a pitch of excellence worthy of one of the great European capitals.
The Cuban women, even in the lower classes, are generally far better looking than the men. Those of the upper ranks are often extremely fascinating. Their features are small and delicate, their eyes dark and fine, and their hair magnificent. Their feet and hands are small, and although they cannot vie in grace with their Andalusian sisters, they have a distinct and striking charm, peculiar to themselves. They have a regrettable weakness for plastering their faces with rice powder, to an extent which sometimes makes them look absolutely ghastly, and, like most Creoles, they are apt, except on formal occasions, to neglect the elementary duty of personal neatness. They are fond of lolling about in their own homes, in wrappers, none of the cleanest, and are much addicted to swinging in hammocks, coiling themselves up on sofas, and, above all, rocking lazily to and fro, in low American chairs.
Of society, even in the city of Havana, there is little or none. A few large parties are given by the wealthier families in the winter season, but very few people can converse easily on any interesting subject. Conversation must soon flag, indeed, in a country where the intellectual pabulum of the fair sex consists, generally speaking, of a singular combination of the Catholic prayer-book and the worst stamp of French novel. The usual way of spending the evening in a Cuban house is to place two long rows of rocking-chairs opposite one another, and sit chatting, everybody, meanwhile, smoking the inevitable cigarette. In some of the houses, music of a high order may be heard, and not a few of the Cuban ladies sing charmingly. During the Carnival, a good many dances take place in private houses, but even these are extremely dull, for as soon as a gentleman has danced with a lady, he is expected to lead her back to her rocking-chair, where she sits smoking in smiling silence till the arrival of another partner. It would be thought highly improper for a young man to start a conversation, let alone a flirtation, with an unmarried girl.
The general want of that association between the sexes, so necessary to the welfare of each, makes the Cuban women indifferent to the opinion of the Cuban men. They care for nothing but the most childish chatter and gossip, have no desire to improve their minds, no ambition beyond that connected with their own personal comfort and vanity. They marry when they are mere children, from twelve years of age to about eighteen,—and if no suitor has appeared upon the scene by that time, they are looked on as old maids. Belonging to a most prolific race, those who marry soon have large families about them, and devoted as they are, in most cases, to their children, they find their happiness in their domestic circle. The haughty spirit derived from their Spanish ancestry is not dead in the hearts of the Cuban ladies. Many of them have proved the fact, of late, by qualities of self-sacrifice, courage, and splendid heroism, which have gone far to carry the revolutionary struggle to its present phase. The exceedingly pernicious habit of bandaging infants in swaddling clothes is still prevalent, even in the best regulated Cuban families. This may account for the excessive infant mortality, for though as many as eight or ten children are born to most parents, they rarely succeed in rearing more than three or four.
There is a saying in Havana that "the church is good enough for the old maids of both sexes." The women are pious from habit. Nearly all of them begin the day by going to Mass, and in Holy Week they literally live in church. But, for all this, religion does not seem to have any deep influence on their lives. The men make no pretence to piety. Generally speaking, Catholicism in Cuba has become a mere matter of form and custom, although there are doubtless many sincerely pious people in the island, who practise all the Christian virtues, both in public and in private. Still, I fear the clergy can hardly have done their duty by their flocks for many generations past. Yet, I am assured, a more evangelical spirit is stirring among them at the present moment. This we may fairly ascribe to the vigilance and zeal of the present Pope, Leo XIII., who has appointed more energetic and able bishops than any of his predecessors, since the Apostolic age. I am assured that the present Archbishop of Santiago and Bishop of Havana—the island is divided into two dioceses—have effected many remarkable reforms, not only among their clergy, but also among the laity.
To resume: the Cubans are, as I have already indicated, the descendants of Spaniards born on the island. They form considerably over a third of the population. The true Spanish population, which is not at all numerous, includes the absentee grandees, who own at least a fourth of the island, the numerous officials sent out from Spain, and the very considerable garrison which has always been kept in Cuba, to maintain order, and suppress all attempts at open rebellion. The Spaniards keep very much to themselves, although, of course, many of them are allied with Cuba by family ties, and are on very friendly terms, in times of peace, with their own kinsfolk. Still, there is a local feeling against them, as the representatives of bad government in a sorely-troubled colony. Their manners and customs are not quite identical with those of the natives. Their women, for instance, have a far higher sense of dignity than the native ladies. They are more sincerely pious, and, in many cases, far more highly educated and accomplished. On the other hand, the men are extremely overbearing and exclusive. Their manners are ridiculously elaborate, but their hospitality, though courteously proffered, is less genuine than that of the native Cubans. When a Cuban says, "Come and stay," or "Come and dine with me," he means it, and is hurt, however humble his circumstances may be, if you refuse.
During the last fifty years, a great many Americans have established themselves in Cuba as planters, merchants, and shopkeepers. They come from all parts of the United States, and associate very little with the Spaniards, although they are generally very friendly with the Cubans. The principal American settlements are at Cardenas, quite a modern town, and known as "The American City," Havana, Cienfuegos, and Santiago. The Spaniards, on the other hand, suspect and dislike the Americans. There are not many English established on the island. The railroads, however, and some of the best tobacco estates, are mainly in British hands. There is a small French colony, consisting mainly, I am assured, of persons who cannot live in their own country. In the old slave times, most of the overseers were Frenchmen who had been expelled from France, and not a few were well known as having "served their time." There is also a small Italian colony, and a very considerable German contingent, who live their own lives, apart from their neighbours. Until within quite recent times no religion but the Roman Catholic was tolerated on the island, but, at the present moment, there is, if anything, greater freedom of worship than in Spain itself. From all I have heard, Cuba is the last place in the world where people trouble their heads over theological or philosophical questions. Life is essentially materialistic, and the chief aim and struggle of existence is to get as much comfort as may be, out of an exceedingly uncomfortable climate.
The Jews in Cuba barely number 500, and are mostly of Spanish origin, and engaged in trade. A great many Jews fled to the West Indies from Spain, in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, but few remained in the Spanish possessions. The danger was too great. Five or six of the Cuban Jewish families are reported wealthy, and are much respected, but they keep entirely to themselves. We next come to the two last divisions of the heterogeneous population of the Pearl of the Antilles,—the coloured race, and the Coolies.
The coloured folk of Cuba, who vary, as I have said, from the deepest ebony to the lightest cream, form a little over a third of the whole population. That they are not more numerous in proportion to the whites, is due to causes which I shall endeavour to explain hereafter. At a very early date, slaves were introduced into Cuba, to replace the massacred aborigines. At first the black merchandise was exceedingly dear; in fact, according to ancient authorities, slaves were "worth their weight in gold." But, in the seventeenth century, the importation from Africa began on a great scale, though very few females were at first landed, as the majority died on the way over. This fact necessitated a system of constant replenishment of the males, and it was only in the last century that negresses were brought to Cuba in any great numbers. Their appearance was followed by the inevitable result—a peaceful invasion of small niggers. And the dusky Venus found scores of worshippers, among the haughty Dons. Even worthy Brian Edwards, the pious author of the History of the West Indies, did not neglect to pay tribute to the charms of the "Sable Aphrodite" in an Ode from which I cannot resist culling the following lines:—
| Her skin excell'd the raven plume, Her breath the fragrant orange bloom, Her eye the tropic beam. Soft was her lip as silken down, And mild her look as ev'ning sun That gilds the Cobre stream. The loveliest limbs her form compose, Such as her sister Venus chose In Florence, where she's seen, But just alike, except the white, No difference, no—none at night, The beauteous dames between. O sable Queen! thy mild domain I seek, and court thy gentle reign, So soothing, soft, and sweet, Where meeting love, sincere delight, Fond pleasure, ready joys invite, And unbought raptures meet. The prating Frank, the Spaniard proud, The double Scot, Hibernian loud, And sullen English, own The pleasing softness of thy sway, And here, transferr'd allegiance pay, For gracious is thy throne. |
Notwithstanding the nominal abolition of the slave trade, something like half a million of slaves have been imported into Cuba since the first treaty between England and France,—for the gradual abolition of slavery was officially signed in 1856. The traffic continued even as late as 1886, when slavery was at last entirely and finally suppressed. It was often connived at by the Governor, and other high officials at Havana, who thus increased their popularity, and their private fortunes. In the course of 1878 I was told, on good authority, of a cargo of sixty Congo negroes, which had just been landed in a small port in the neighbourhood of Havana, and sold to planters in the interior. The first step towards emancipation was the freeing of all infants born of slave parents, and of all slaves who had attained their fiftieth year. This was achieved in 1856, with very curious consequences. The infants, being deemed worthless by their parents' owners, as soon as they realised the fact that when the children were reared they would have no control over them, were purposely neglected, and thousands of them perished in their earliest years. The old folk, on the other hand, were, in most instances, turned adrift, to enjoy their freedom as best they might, as vagrants on the highways and byways, or as beggars in the towns. Not a few died of starvation, and this is one of the main causes which has reduced the coloured population in Cuba much below its natural proportion, to that of other countries, where slavery has lately existed. Many years have elapsed since slaves were publicly sold in the market-places of Havana and the large cities, but until ten years ago, advertisements for their sale continued in the principal papers, and I hold a collection of these, which proves that very little or no attention was paid to the freedom of infants, even after the passing of the law in 1856. For the majority of these advertisements refer to children of twelve and fifteen years of age, who are generally offered for "private sale," the intending purchaser being asked to "inspect the goods at the house of the present proprietor." Here is a specimen, dated April 1885:—"Anyone who requires a nice active little girl of light colour, aged 12, can inspect her at the house of her mistress. Price to be settled between the parties privately" (here follows the address). This is a proof, if proof were needed, of how the slave laws were regarded in Cuba; and even now, I am assured, in many of the more lonely plantations, the blacks have not fully realized that they are free, and continue working gratuitously, as in the old days. On the other hand, the vast majority, being of opinion that freedom means idleness, have ceased labour altogether, and, as their requirements are remarkably modest, a number of them have departed for the woods and wildernesses, where they lead much the primitive life led by their forebears in their native Africa. These refugees have proved admirable recruits for the rebel army, and have, on more than one occasion, found an opportunity of wreaking their vengeance on their late masters' plantations and homesteads.
I do not think the slaves were any worse treated in Cuba than in the Southern States of America before the Abolition, and, indeed, I have not noticed in Latin slave-owning countries that strong prejudice, on the part of the whites, against the blacks, which exists all over the United States, and amounts to a sense of absolute loathing. I am convinced the free blacks in Cuba are better treated than their liberated brethren in the Southern States. They are more civilly handled by the whites, who appear to me to have very little or no prejudice against them. They mingle freely with the white congregations in the churches, and are even allowed to walk in the various religious processions, side by side with their late owners. If the Americans ever conquer Cuba, they will have to deal with a coloured population which has long been accustomed to far more courteous treatment than the Yankees are likely to vouchsafe to it.
The Spanish laws for the protection of the slaves were remarkable for their humanity. According to the Leyes de Indias, all slaves had to be baptized, and their marriages were to be considered legal. It was unlawful to separate families. In the towns and villages, judicial tribunals were instituted, to which any slave could have recourse against his master. It was illegal to administer more than twenty-five lashes in a single week on the bare back of any slave, male or female. It was murder to kill a slave, unless, indeed, it could be proved that he had attempted to assassinate his master, or strike him, to burn his house or property, or to violate his wife, daughter, or any other white female, howsoever humble, in his employ. But these laws, unfortunately, were rarely observed. It is true that Syndicates, as they were termed, existed in the capital and in all the larger towns, and were occasionally useful to the household slaves. But the unfortunate plantation hands were either utterly ignorant of the existence of these tribunals, or were unable to reach them. If a bold applicant contrived to apply to these organizations, his master soon found means to make him regret his temerity. The slaves were well fed, because they were considered useful beasts of burden. But during the sugar harvest they were cruelly overworked, sometimes labouring nineteen or twenty hours out of the twenty-four, and this for weeks at a stretch, without any interruption, even on the Sundays. They would often fall down exhausted from sheer fatigue, only to struggle to their feet again under the overseer's merciless whip. Personally, I witnessed very few acts of cruelty, during a visit to the island before the emancipation. Once I did see a number of blacks in the coffee fields wantonly flipped with the whip, simply to keep them "spry," as the Yankees say. One horrible instance, however, took place to my knowledge. A strikingly handsome mulatto had escaped into the woods. For a week after his recapture he was daily subjected to the most horrible tortures, the ostensible object of which was to strike terror into the souls of such of his fellow slaves who might be tempted to follow his example. They subjected him to torments too shocking for description, and rubbed his wounds with agua ardiente. The poor wretch, writhing in agony, and shrieking with pain, was bound hand and foot to the stump of a tree. The strangest part of it was that the niggers for whom this torture, which eventually ended in death, was intended as a warning, did not seem impressed by its horror. They merely laughed and shrieked like so many fiends—possibly they were accustomed to such scenes, and callous. The excuse given for the diabolical treatment of this particular slave was that he had escaped into the forest, where a number of other runaways were in hiding, and had formed a dangerous association, with the object of pillage and incendiarism. I afterwards learnt that the master of the plantation on which the awful crime took place was notorious for his brutality, and consequently shunned by all his neighbours. A year or so later, he was arrested on some charge or other connected with the ill-treatment of his slaves, and after paying a heavy fine, found it to his interest to leave the island. He came to Paris, where he was well known for his eccentricity and extravagance, and there died some years ago. Even in the case of this unfavourable specimen of the Cuban planter the household slaves were treated with the utmost indulgence, and petted and pampered to their hearts' content. They were as vicious, idle, happy-go-lucky a lot as ever existed! I did hear some horrible stories of fiendish cruelty devised by spiteful mistresses, and inflicted upon their female servants. One, for instance, which may or may not have been true, of a lady who, because her own eyes worried her, stabbed out those of her waiting-maid with pins. Perhaps the worst features of slavery in Cuba were, as I have already stated, the length of the working hours, and the fact that the masters considered their religious duty to have ended with the wholesale administration of baptism. It never entered their heads to teach the poor wretches any lesson beyond that of implicit obedience to their own will and caprice. Even the rudiments of the catechism were absolutely forbidden. Many a worthy priest has found, to his cost, that any attempt to Christianize the field hands was the worst possible mistake he could make in their owners' eyes. It not only involved him in difficulties with the masters, but with his own ecclesiastical superiors. The Jesuits and Franciscans were persecuted, and threatened with expulsion over and over again, because they persisted in their efforts to convert the negroes. The fact is, the masters were quick to understand that the ethics of Christianity are not compatible with slavery. Yet many household slaves received a religious education rather elaborate than otherwise, were obliged to attend morning and evening prayers, and to say the Rosary, a very favourite form of devotion at the present time with all Cuban negroes, who will sit for hours in the glaring sun, telling their beads and smoking cigarettes, with the oddest imaginable expression of mingled piety and self-indulgence on their faces. Although the days of slavery are long since passed,—and they were quite as harmful to the whites as they were to the negroes,—the condition of the dark population in Cuba has not greatly improved. On some of the more lonely plantations, as I have pointed out elsewhere, they still seem unaware that they are emancipated, but the vast majority have foresworn all regular employment, and live as best they can, from hand to mouth.
That portion of the coloured population of Cuba which has been free for several generations, is in better case than the corresponding section in the United States. The negroes belonging to it earn their living as labourers, workmen, servants, hackney-coach drivers, messengers, and even as musicians, in the various towns. Some few are fairly well off. Whatever their vices may be, they are by no means ambitious, and are contented with the simplest pleasures. The men love a glass of agua ardiente, and the women delight in any scrap of cast-off finery with which they can parade the streets, and show themselves off to the admiration and envy of their neighbours. I fancy that half the old ball dresses in Europe find their way, after various vicissitudes, to Cuba. On a Sunday or a feast-day, the ebon ladies sally forth in all their glory, arrayed in their white sisters' cast-off finery, with low necks and short sleeves. The matter of underclothing is frequently altogether overlooked, shoes and stockings never by any chance appear, but a bright flower is invariably stuck in each woolly pate. Some of the holiday makers sport a pair of long kid gloves, which have the oddest possible effect. In church the dusky beauties squat, beads in hand, upon the floor of the nave, which is reserved for their accommodation, while the gentlemen darkies stand round in the side aisles. When Mass is over, the sable congregation pours forth into the sunny streets, each member, almost without exception, armed with a cigarette. The little negro children are the sweetest little rascals upon earth, and I can quite understand the enthusiastic lady who was heard to exclaim "Oh, why can't we have black babies who turn white when they grow up." These said black babies are inconceivably quaint, and the older children charming, and very intelligent, till they reach their twelfth year, when their brains suddenly appear to cease all development, excepting in the imitative arts. The Cuban negroes are madly fond of music, and although they prefer the dreadful tom-tom, and their own barbaric sounds, imported, doubtless, from Africa, they will crowd the galleries of the Tacon Theatre to listen to Italian operas. When I was last in Havana, nearly every darkie you met was whistling the Toreador song from "Carmen," the favourite opera then being performed, to the accompaniment of an orchestra largely composed of coloured people,—a peculiarity which would never be tolerated in the States, where no white conductor would lead a mixed band, and where half the audience would leave the house on beholding woolly heads bending over instruments played by sable hands. Many members of the Tacon orchestra, one of the best in existence, are full-blooded negroes, and, with their co-operation, not only Italian, but Wagnerian opera, is successfully performed.
Slavery has unfortunately been replaced, in Cuba, by coolie labour, a form of the same cruel institution, which, for some occult reason, has never excited the same amount of horror in Europe, possibly because it does not bear the actual name of slavery, and because most people imagine the wretched coolie sells himself, instead of being sold. In 1877 there were 43,000 Chinese workmen on the island, all that remained out of 100,000, originally imported, of whom not less than 16,000 had died on their way out from China. At the present moment the coolies number something like 40,000. These poor wretches do not bring their female belongings with them, and are consequently reduced to a condition of enforced celibacy; for so great is the contempt in which these voluntary slaves are held, not even the lowest negress will have anything to do with them. Despised by the whites, and detested by the blacks, they lead a miserable life, and die like flies, in the scorching climate. The very partial success of the coolie immigration scheme led, some years ago, to the importation of Mayas from Yucatan, but this has not been followed by happy results; and what with the depreciation of tropical produce, the number of estates which have gone out of cultivation, and the revolutionary movement, the present condition of the coloured class, and of the coolies, is exceedingly deplorable. They have swollen the ranks of the malcontents, and form a portion of that starving multitude of which we have heard so much of late. In a word, they are workmen out of employment, starving plantation hands, and their condition seems irremediable, unless, indeed, some wealthy Power should eventually take the island in hand, and spend countless millions in the endeavour to lift it, once more, to its former condition of prosperity.
CHAPTER III.
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 GuanahanÈ, 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 DoÑa 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."