unt UNIVERSITY OF
THE MACMILLAN COMPANY
NEW YORK BOSTON CHICAGO
ATLANTA SAN FRANCISCO
MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED
LONDON BOMBAY CALCUTTA
THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD.
(Frontispiece) Photograph by American P1to Company
MORRO, CASTLE OF THE THREE KINGS
IRENE A. WRIGHT
H. E. SWANN OBisPO, 55 HAVANA
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY.
Set up and electrotyped. Published November, xgxo.
J. S. Cushing Co. Berwick & Smith Co.
Norwood, Mass., U.S.A.
CONSTANT, PATIENT, TIRELESS COMPANION
IN ALL MY WORK
Tuis book contains impressions of Cuba gathered during ten years' interrupted residence on this island, the last four of which have been spent largely in traveling hither and you through its provinces, on work entailed first by connections with local newspapers, next by an appointment as special agent of the Cuban department of agriculture, and, finally, by the business of editing a monthly magazine which describes the island principally from agricultural and industrial points of view. What is given of the history of the country, not as yet scientifically compiled, has been obtained in desultory reading, especially of earliest chronicles..
The whole is set forth as the personal opinion of the author only. After one has resided in Cuba through ten years, he ceases to hold any dogmas or doctrines concerning this country, which has, very justly, it seems to me, been called the land of topsy-turvey. Here logic and rational sequence are not the rule. Life runs, not like reality, but after the style of librettos of stage plays. From largest to smallest, contradiction exists in all the details of our daily life. Here there are woods which sink and stones which float. Here the executive pardons persons not yet convicted of any crime, and the congress legislates against incorrigible suicides. Business firms send creditors no bills, but signed receipts instead, to dun them. Here black is not necessarily black, but Vii
may carry a legal document to prove its color white; white is not surely white, but may only "pass" for such. Under these, and a thousand other circumstances of which they are typical, one learns to hesitate to call a spade either a qualified shovel or an agricultural implement, but compromises by stating, if one must commit oneself, that at a given time and at a given place it looked to one something like an azadon.
June 1, 1910.
I. HAVANA-TIHE CITY ITSELF. .. 1
I. THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 25
III. DAYS IN HAVANA .. ... .52
IV. ARRoz cON FRIJOLES 83
V. HOME LIFE ... 98
VI. FOREIGNERS IN CUBA 134
VII. "CUBA LIBRE"-A FARCE 164
VIII. WANTED: A MARKETI 194
IX. WEST BY WATER. 207
X. THE LAND 221 XI. WEST BY RAIL 238 XII. WEST BY ROAD 250 XIII. TOBACCO IN WESTERN CUBA 268
XIV. THE ISLE OF PINES 279 XV. THE NORTH COAST 337
XVI. SANTIAGO DE CUBA 352 XVII. OUR LADY OF COBRE 373
XVIII. THE SOUTH COAST 383
XIX. SANTA CLARA 389
XX. CAMAGUEY 396
XXI. COLONIES OF ORIENTE 411 XXII. THE NIPE BAY DISTRICT 464 INDEX 505
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Map of Cuba.... .... .. xiv
Morro, Castle of the Three Kings Frontispiece
Early Morning at Havana Harbor Mouth 1
A'Cuban Kitchen .5 Charcoal Burners 5
Ball Players on the Court 7
The Presidential Palace, Havana. 10
The "Green Room" of the Presidential Palace 10
The Templete, Havana 12
Havana City Mounted Police 16
The Prado, Havana 16
Central Park, the Heart of Havana 21
In Havana's Modern Suburbs -Jesus del Monte 21
La India -Looking North along Upper Prado 21
A Typical Havana Street 23
Cuban Pack Train 26
A Country Milk Peddler 26
Entrance to Cubafias Fortress 28
Cubafias Salutes 28
Tower of La Fuerza, showing Effigy, La Habana 33
La Fuerza, the Oldest Habitable and Inhabited Building in the
Western Hemisphere 33
La Chorrera .37 Remnant of Havana's Old City Walls, showing Part of the
Prado- Malecon Drive in Havana 37
Monument to Student Martyrs 44
Glories of a Funeral in Cuba 48
The Cathedral, Havana .53
Panorama of Mariel 56
Street Peddler selling Tin and Other Kitchen Ware 60
The Bread Man who delivers Flukes" from Door to Door 60
xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
Street Vendor, Havana. 60
Corridor of a Cuban Home of the Best Class 113
Portico of a Vuelta Abajo Planter's Home, Pinar del Rio 113 A Country Family in Gala Array 128
Window Courtship, Havana. 128
A "Compara "- Maskers in Carnival Time .148
Piero Gueria, Revolutionary Leader of the "Little War" 176 The Plaza at Pinar del Rio City 234 Raja Yoga Academy, Pinar del Rio 240
Hotel Ricardo, Piuar del Rio 24(0 A Typical Country Road in Cuba 254 The Peace Keeper in Pinar del Rio 257 Quarry beyond Luis Lazo 261 Quarrying Native Stones for Road Dressing, in Pinar del Rio 261 Approaching the Summit, Pinar del Rio 263 On the Bayamo Manzanillo Highway. 266
On the Line of the Bayamo Manzanillo Highway 266
An Old Road in Northwestern Pinar del Rio 266 Valley of Vinales 268 Shade-grown Tobacco Fields at San Juan y Martinez, Vuelta
A Tobacco Warehouse, Havana 272
Casas River 288
A Typical View in the Isle of Pines 293
An American Residence in the Isle of Pines 300
Colombo Bay 800
Pines of the Isle 332
A Young Isle Grove 332
Siboney, near'Santiago de Cuba Monument to Shafter's Command, erected on Site of Americans' Landing in 1808 353 San Juan Hill 353
Cespedes Park, Santiago 357
Santiago de Cuba, from Tivoli Hill 359
A Street in Santiago de Cuba 362
The Old Church at El Caney -Riddled by Shot and Shell 364 The Cemetery at Santiago de Cuba 368
A Back Street in Santiago de Cuba 368
View from Boniat Summit towards Santiago 3. 71
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS xiii
Loading a Cart in the Field. 382
Cutting and Stripping Cane. 382
At Sagua ]a Grande....... 394
In the Patio at Hotel Camaguey ... 408
Bayamo Manzanillo Highway 446
Hand-shaped Timbers of Valuable Hardwoods used for Bridgebuilding in Cuba .. .446
Primitive Coffee Mill 448
The First Incline out of Piedra Gorda. 498
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Photograph by American Photo Company
EARLY MORNING AT HAVANA'S HARBOR MOUTH
HAVANA THE CITY ITSELF
Llave del Nuevo Mundo y Balarte de las Indias Occidentales
I WISH that I might see Havana again in the light in which she appeared to me on the early winter morning of our first arrival here. We were on our steamer's deck before daybreak, as the wise traveler will be, if he would obtain at the very commencement of his acquaintance an impression of Havana not likely to be entirely obliterated by later familiarity with the city, no matter what contempt this may breed.
Ahead, over black waters, we beheld a strong and single light. It flashed encouragement to advance. We knew that it was Morro's. Presently, especially on the left hand, we distinguished above the waters the intenser black of shore. Later still we saw that the land was divided from the sea by an intermittent froth of white breakers. They made, however, no sound to disturb the absolute silence through which we cut. Then, gradually, details of a picture detached themselves from a gray background, becoming by instants more luminous. We made out the outlines of Morro. We saw minor lights, those of the barracks on the sloping shore to left of it, and those, more numerous, of the city itself, across the channel, at the right. Faint color crept into the sky; it deepened to brilliant red, against
which the lighthouse tower of the Castle was a black silhouette, bearing aloft a golden disk, that faded and went out. The sun had risen, and before us lay a city such in aspect as I had not supposed ever existed off the back curtain of a stage set for light opera. It lay along a shore that seemed to curve in a bow of gracious welcome. Its houses glistened with opalescent tints. We passed through the channel;' close under Morro (seated like a gray and weary veteran upon black rocks the sea has undermined), and beside Cabafias, with walls (long, low, irregular, upon a hill) painted rose color in the morning light. Over all lay the most delicate, shifting, blue-gray mist, which made what our eyes beheld seem the more unreal. I felt that we had arrived in an enchanted land; whatever disillusionment I have suffered since has not uprooted, nor ever can, the love for Havana born in me that morning, at first sight. Three times in utter disgust I have bidden her "farewell forever." Each time, before I'd lost her well astern, I realized that I should return. Arrived in the North, the bustle of busier streets than hers annoyed me ; brick and brownstone houses oppressed me with their gloom. I missed her sky from above me, all others look faded in comparison, for none were ever so blinding at noonday, so gaudy at sunset, so deep, so tender, so marvelously blue at night. The very airs that blow through her avenues penetrate the marrow with her charm, and the palm trees of her suburbs, with feathery tops that rustle in the wind, have haunted my dreams when I have sought to return to the land where I was born,' until longing for the light, the color, the warmth of Havana, was a pain not longer to be endured. Three times. have I come back, like a tippler to his drink, because I love her and I cannot keep away.
HAVANA- THE CITY ITSELF 3
Havana wa s the last of seven cities founded in Cuba by the Adelantado Don Diego Velazquez, conqueror and first governor of the country. It was established first on July 25, 1515, near the mouth of the Guines or Mayabeque River, on the south shore of Cuba, almost directly across the island from the city's present site. That, date is St. Christopher's day, and to honor him, and also, undoubtedly, Columbus, the place was called St. Christopher of Havana, Havana being the Indian name for, approximately that part of Cuba which has since become the Province of ilabana. Oddly enough, the spelling (with v) which is usual in English seems to have been the original, the present Spanish version (with b) being, I judge, a corruption occasioned by local mispronunciation of v and its consequent confusion with b. The 25th of July is not, however, celebrated as the city's natal day. The Catholic calendar ascribes that date to two saints, to St. Christopher and to the great St. James, patron of Spain, and also of Cuba. To avoid conflict with festivities in honor of Santiago, His Holiness, long ago, gave Havana special permission to make merry in St. Christopher's name. on November 16, because of her beginning, four centuries ago, in the vicinity of the present south coast port of Batabano.
It is, on first consideration, incredible to those who know Cuba that reasoning men should have selected that location for a town. 'Batabano is considered the best port in its neighborhood, but not a particularly good one. The harbor is shallow, not fully protected, and the coast is unattractive, low, and hot. Explanation lies in the fact that at the time Havana was founded all explorations made and making were to the south of Cuba, along the north shore of the South American
mainland, where the Spanish were struggling fiercely for a foothold on the Pearl Coast, and on the Isthmus, at Darien. What traffic there was in these as yet unfrequented seas coasted the south shore of Cuba from Santo Dom-ingo, center of Spanish colonization, to Urabd, first, and finally to Peru and to Mexico.' Of the continent of North America, on the other hand, nothing was known save that an Englishman and a Frenchman had found land in distant latitudes. Spain and her subjects were interested to forestall solely the King of Portugal, with whom only they expected to share the New World, and his exploring expeditions sailed south.
Havana's situation on the south shore of the island was, however, insufferable, despite its commercial advantages. The people were plagued with mosquitoes; newborn babies died, books tell, of the bites of those pestiferous insects. The settlement moved, therefore, across the island, to a location near the mouth of the Almendares River, which comes into the sea at the far edge of the present suburb of Vedado. Here, unfortunately, it was exposed to the attacks of pirates, who were a reality upon the Spanish Main in those days. In 1519, on this account, it moved again, to a site easier of defense, this time settling down to stay in its present place on the west shore of the bay that was originally called Carenas, by Sebastian de Campo, who discovered it in 1508, when, on the first voyage of circumnavigation made about Cuba, he entered to careen his ships. The name he gave it has been forgotten in
I'Cortes put into Havana on his way to Tenochititlan when Havana was still on the south coast of Cuba; he did not, as Prescott, for instance, supposes, sail clear around the west end of the island to. the present port.
Photograph by American Photo Company
A CUBAN KITCHEN
Photograph by American Photo Company
A pile of wood ready for the conflagration
HAVANA- THE CITY ITSELF 5
its present title of Havana Harbor. Entrance is by way of a very narrow channel which seemed easy to close against unwelcome visitors. The bay then swept in between Punta and La Fuerza much further than it does now, so that the nascent city huddled really upon a peninsula projecting into the harbor. To the landward it was protected, I gather from reading, by a thick growth of manigua (almost impenetrable bush) through which its citizens took good pains to make no trails for marauders' guidance; despite this precaution it was visited more than once by buccaneers who anchored in San Lazaro Inlet, an insignificant arm of sea, now well within the city limits and destined soon to disappear, leaving only a curve in the modern seawall drive to indicate its former whereabouts.
I can, rightly or wrongly, imagine a fat caravel anchored where the house I live in stands (on made land) in the downtown district to-day, and leaning upon the low protecting wall along our front azotea (flat roof), as upon that caravel's gunwale, I can overlook with my mind's eye a very different scene from that the physical eye beholds.
No tall buildings, packed together in city blocks, obstruct imagination's view; they have scattered and shrunk! Morro is gone from its headland behind me,
-Cabafias is gone from its hill! There, to the left, just past the angled wall of Fuerza, the fort where the governor lives, upstairs, I see the top of a tall ceiba tree. Opposite it, across the Plaza de Armas, is, not the Palace (modern and ordinary residence of captainsgeneral, American governors, and Cuban presidents), but the old adobe parish church, thatched with palm leaves. Beyond it and above it, on Calle Real (Muralla or Ricla Street), on Redes (now Inquisidor), on
Sumidero (O'Reilly), on Basurero, (Teniente Rey), the houses of the earliest Havana, built of cedar and roofed with thatch, stand in rows. Elsewhere, they observe no order. They are fenced about, front, sides, and back, with double walls of prickly cactus. There are fruit trees in these enclosures. The furniture within the houses consists of benches, and chairs of cedar and mahogany, without backs, the bottoms being of canvas or hide, of which materials, too, are the beds (hammocks) of the poorer citizens. Richer residents ship black and red precious woods which abound here to Castile, whence the logs return converted into handsome "imperial couches." Cooking utensils are usually of iron, although the native Indians make earthen pots which they prefer in preparation of their dishes. The people eat stews of fresh or salt meats, flavored with peppers, and corn and cazabi bread, which hunger makes palatable. Tableware is of Sevillan crockery, with platters of wood. There are pretty cups of a wood called guayacan, deemed to possess prodigious medicinal qualities because of the material from which they are fashioned In every parlor is a sacred picture, before which lights are burned at nightfall when the customary prayers are said. For illumination the poor use tallow candles; the rich, brass lamps from Seville fed with olive oil. After dark no one ventures out unless compelled to do so, and then 'he goes with a goodly company, armed, carrying lanterns. Wild dogs and runaway negro slaves enter the town, with darkness, to fight each other through its garbage for food !
My friend, Hernando de Paula, servant of the governor, D. Juan Maldonado, leans with me over the rail, pointing out details of interest. "You won't find here," he warns me, "those birds with gold and silver
Photograph by Anerican Photo Company
BALL PLAYERS ON THE COURT
General Leonard Wood, a Jai Alai enthusiast among them
HAVANA- THE CITY ITSELF 7
beaks and enameled plumage of which they told us before we left Castile, nor do I see any prospects of rich mines. But this land is lovely; its fields are green as spring the year around. There is good and abundant water. Herds multiply marvelously. If sugar and
tobacco projects prosper, traffic will increase until this city becomes the richest and most important .
A trolley car thundering up Chacon Street shatters my revery. I open my eyes to fact, not fancy, and behold his prophecy come true. The caramel-colored walls of the Supreme Court building are between me and the Plaza, but I know that La Fuerza is dwarfed beside the Senate building (and only the commanding general of the Rural Guard resides upstairs). The Templete is back, with its stone monument where the historic ceiba tree used to stand. The Palace has shouldered the parish church into ancient history. From all this, the wholesale and office district of the modern capital, arises a very tumult of congested traffic, increased and increasing, because, indeed, Amigo Hernando, projects in sugar and tobacco have prospered mightily 1
Now from the bay shore (from the Maestranza Building on the north to the Arsenal on the south) many narrow streets (the same Hernando knew and still others parallel to them) lead west by a little south to those open and parked places, between Monserrate and Zulueta, where stood formerly the city walls.
I In the foregoing description of ancient Havana I have taken liberties with an account which appears in Maria de la Torre's handbook entitled "What We Were and What We Are." The article from which I have lifted purports to be notes (Mss., fifth copy, dated 1598) made by Hernando de Paula, servant of the governor, Juan Maldonado, continued by Alonso Ifigo de Cordoba. The Mss. once belonged to Diego de Oquendo, and was printed with some modernization of the language by Jose Joaquin Garcia in 1846.
Originally all the neighborhood west and south of these walls, now covered solidly with the houses of newer parts of the city itself, was wild country, overgrown, as I have said, with bush through which, at first, there were not even any trails. Vedado, the name of Havana's handsomest modern suburb, means "Forbidden"; there was a time when it was prohibited to pass through the tangled woods there lest in so doing paths be made by which pirates anchored offshore might feel encouraged to approach the city and attack. Gradually, however, farms were cultivated all about the town. Then the suburbs of Jesus del Monte and Cerro, for instance, were not parts of Havana, but separate villages to which roads that have since become Jesus del Monte and Cerro avenues (Calzadas) lead out. The farms changed, as the city grew, into suburban villas and chalets of the rich upon which humbler homes ventured, in time, to crowd uncomfortably. Now the grounds of Count Villanueva, for instance, prized as a rural estate, are a city park and the site of a centrally located railway station; elsewhere electric cars pass along paved streets which have developed from lanes and sylvan byways. "The old city," as they call that part of it east of the line of the walls, between their relies and the bay, is in area but a small part of the greater Havana.
It has become the business district of the modern city, yet not exclusively so. Streets here are exceedingly narrow, as the law required when they were laid out that they should be, for it was supposed that they would be cooler if the houses on one side shaded the facades of those on the other. It did not occur to those who planned them, however, to lay Havana's avenues with any intelligent reference to prevailing
HAVANA -THE CITY ITSELF 9
winds. These streets were first paved with cobblestones; it is only within the last ten years that cement, wooden blocks, and, in sticky patches, a little asphalt, have replaced the round rocks on a few of the principal thoroughfares. Houses stand close along these streets, without the intervention of sidewalks worthy the name, except on a few modernized avenues, notably Obispo and O'Reilly. In the beginning no sidewalks were planned. Persons of importance rode: mere pedestrians merited no consideration. All that protected the houses from traffic passing in the streets, then, was a curb intended to keep wheels from scraping on the buildings; these curbs have, wherever possible, been converted into sidewalks. In many places, however, they render only their original service. When the pavement, a foot or two wide at its best, on side avenues, dwindles to an inch or two instead, a person walking takes to the street, precisely as it was intended he should do, and continues on his way as best he can, quite at the mercy of his betters, passing with right-ofway in hired "coaches" and private vehicles of all sorts whose drivers hiss and halloo at him to step lively, unmindful how the wheels slipping into puddles between cobbles may spatter him with water and mud, unless, foreseeing the catastrophe, he dodge uninvited into an open door and so escape the flying mire.
These houses are generally two stories in height; in some this is equivalent to three, for there is a low-ceiled between floors," intended originally, I think, for the accommodation of menials. The National Bank building scrapes the sky with five stories. There are onestory buildings beside it with sloping roofs of curled red tile. These houses are built of stone, or as durable peculiar old brick, or a composition known as mam-
posteria; the outside of all alike, however, is smoothly plastered and gayly colored: white, cream, buff, pink, blue, yellow, green, lavender, indigo, in single tones and in startling combinations which astonish the eye and, combined with a tangled sky line, constitute no small proportion of Havana's attraction for a stranger here.
The street fronts of the buildings are all quite plain. There are large rectangular windows, barred, and immense and sometimes ornate doorways, through which, if they stand open, one sees patios (courtyards) beyond.
Erected for residences, some buildings even in the heart of "the old city" have remained so; business has, however, invaded most of them here, so that in the handsome palace of the Count of San Fernando an American company stores farm wagons. On another corner of Cathedral Square a senator of the republic lives above a corner caf6 where omnibus drivers spend their small leisure between trips. Residences of foreign diplomats stand side by side with steam laundries. The laughter of children at play on the roof of the adjoining house enlivens the quiet of the American consul's private office. There are tenements on the tops of warehouses. Factories, schools, government departments, and convents may be neighbors in the same square. The most notorious street in town is within a block or so of the most fashionable church and of the American Legation, opposite it. In short, "the old city" is a grab bag,- its contents unsorted. West of the Prado, the wider streets there, and the suburbs beyond them, are now more the residential districts than any below the line of the former walls, where business predominates, yet does not wholly control.
Havana grew westward from her water front, and
Pholtograph by A merican Photo Company
THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE, HAVANA
'Photograph by American Photo Company
THE GREEN ROOM" OF THE PRESIDENTIAL PALACE
HA VANA THE CITY ITSELF 1
close to it, naturally, are the oldest and the most interesting parts of town. The very center of the original settlement was the Plaza de Armas, the little park above Caballeria, the oldest wharf. Recent cyclones have stripped its trees; they used to cast a grateful shade, but now the sun beats through their lopped, bare branches so that at noon their shadows hardly wrap their boles around. There are foliage plants, and some flowers in little beds, I believe, but, to tell the truth,' when I must cross the Plaza de Armas I lay me a clear course from one corner to the other, shut my eyes and "9go it blind," for I cannot endure the glare from its paths, which penetrates the eyes like a white-hot knife. Walking so, or swimming, rather, buoyed along on heat waves that surge through here at noonday like high tide in the Bay of Fundy, I have often made myself oblivious to the discomfort of the moment by reconstructing scenes and events which have transpired here.
I am fond of abolishing the Palace, that smug yellow square which faces upon the Plaza from its west side. It has been the Mecca ever since it came into existence, in 1834, and through all r6gimes, of the pest of the country, office seekers in hordes (politicians, patriots," false friends and flattering favorites, with now and then an honest man temporizing in bad company). Its marble steps are bent to the tread of their persistent feet. I fancy its walls have sheltered from the too curious stare of outsiders more than one sore heart, not wholly hidden behind its red and blue plush curtains, nor, even further, safe within the privacy of its "green room." This building shook as the Maine blew up, and when he learned the details of that explosion they say the governor-general in his office upstairs
smote his desk with his clenched fist, crying: "This is the saddest day Spain ever saw !" Here his successors, American military governors, ruled with a high hand, and once, so gossip goes, the wife of an American minister did a pas .seul on the stair landing, which may or may not have helped to determine her husband's following transfer to a lesser post. From here President Palma, betrayed and broken, departed, leaving his country in the hands of William Howard Taft. I am fond, I say, of abolishing the whole edifice and all its sordid history. I prefer to fancy the old parish church that preceded it, as it was, say, on a festival day in 1667, when Dofia Maria de Cepero, the governor's daughter and exalted patroness of the occasion, was killed by a ball from an arquebus saluting in the course of the festivities. She was buried under the' floor where she fell, for it was long before the time when the good Bishop Estrada protested against the use of the churches as charnel vaults. When the old church was demolished, a relative of the lady preserved the stone commemorative of her accidental death; he set it in the wall of the nearest building convenient, and there, on Obispo near the corner of Oficios, the curious may find it yet, for neither time nor repeated coats of whitewash have quite obliterated it or its simple Latin inscription.
Across the Plaza from the Palace is the Templete, that odd, chapel-like building marking the site where, when Havana moved in 1519, the first town council was held and the first mass sung. The Templete was erected in 1828 and contains only three oil paintings, the work of the artist Escobar. In one he has depicted the installation of the first municipal council in Cuba, at Santiago de Cuba, Don Diego Velazquez presiding.
THE EMPETE HAANA PhotograPh by A merican Photo Comn ay
HAVANA THE CITY ITSELF 13
In the second he portrays the celebration of the first mass in Havana, on this spot, and this is the scene I prefer to imagine I witness, as, before a temporary altar erected in the shade of a robust ceiba tree, the priest officiates. About him gathers in attendance the little company of earliest settlers here. Standing behind them, Indians watch curiously the mysterious ceremony. The third picture represents the inauguration of the Templete itself ; among the figures on the canvas are excellent likenesses of Governor Vives, his chief officers, and many a prominent resident and fair belle of the artist's personal acquaintance. These are the ladies and the beaux who used to foregather in the Plaza in the days of Spain" when the military band played "retreat." The betlas came, then, in volantas (two-wheeled Cuban carriages) and quaint chaises; they were gowned in stiff silks, they wore mantillas, and they coquetted with perfumed fans. They had high combs and flowers in their sleek black hair, and to them, pressing close against their conveyances, as these paused in the park, while music sounded and the full moon shone as it shines only in a southern sky like this, exquisite gentlemen in very tight trousers and remarkable tall hats paid extravagant court, as was expected of them. Or, again, late in the afternoons, when the privileges of evening were not permitted to these gallants, they congregated before "Mr. Tavern's coffee house," which was, I think, where the Ambos Mundos is to-day, and perforce contented themselves to watch the fair from a distance as they drove by on "the little promenade (so the phrase goes) along the then fashionable route which lay through what are now wholesale streets, noisy by day and redolent at every hour of raw sugar,
hides, onions in bulk, and baled tobacco! I imagine, too, it was some one of the inexperienced ladies on Escobar's third canvas who, when an enterprising caf6 along the line of the preferred drive served by way of refreshment the first ice manufactured in Havana, clapped her kerchief to her mouth and shrieked that she was burned. The driver of her volanta whipped up the caparisoned mules which drew it and departed down street, over the cobbles, with a fearful clatter, while other adventurous patrons of the salon, tasting the novelty, threw down the glasses in which it was served, and joined in the hubbub with shouts of alarm!
The Templete is open but once a year, on the night of November 15th and on November 16th, celebrated, as I have explained, by special permission as the anniversary of the city's founding, -on which dates all Havana, much with the air of going to church, walks down to the little edifice, made gay with gas lamps and electric lights, to gaze dutifully year after year upon the three paintings which are all it shelters.
Each and every street south of the Plaza de Armas is interesting, in itself as it is now, and for details of its previous history. Here, at Oficios 94, lived the bishop of the, diocese, D. Pedro Agustin Morel de Santa Cruz, who used to take his daily promenade up Obispo, and thereby gave that avenue its name (Bishop's Street) ; it has since been rechristened Pi y Margall, for a Cuban patriot, but nobody heeds the change. On the corner of Mercaderes and Obrapia (Pious Act Street) is the house (its handsome high entrance with coat of arms above it, its stairways, its corridors, its quiet patio retaining in decay the aristocratic bearing of better days), income from which the owner, D. Martin Calvo
HAVANA THE CITY ITSELF 15
de Arrieta, willed, in 1679, to be divided into dowries for five orphan girls yearly; the city is executor and in this capacity still launches five brides per annum so dowered by Don Martin. Lamparilla is "Little Lamp Street" (in commemoration of a light a devotee of All Souls' kept burning on the corner of this and Habana in years when there was no public illumination). Here, too, on the corner of Mercaderes and Amargura, is "The Corner of the Green Cross." The cross is there, and it is green; no painter, furbishing up the house it marks, would venture to give it any other color, though why it should be green nobody knows. It was one of the stations when, before religious processions were prohibited in the streets, good Catholics used to travel the Via Crucis along Amargura (Bitterness) Street from Cristo Plaza at its head to San Francisco Convent at the other end. In the house walls along the way one can distinguish yet where other stations were. Damas is Ladies' Street because of the number of pretty women who at one time made its balconies attractive. Inquisidor was so called because a Commissary of the Inquisition once resided in a house facing upon it which now the Spanish legation owns and occupies. Refugio (Refuge) got its name because once General Rocafort was caught in a storm and found refuge in the house of a widow named Mendez, who lived there. Here and in other districts throughout town not only the streets had names, Empedrado, because it was the first paved (between the Cathedral and San Juan de Dios Square); Tejadillo (Little Tile) because a house upon it was the first to have a tiled roof ; Blanco (Target) because the artillery school practised there when it was well outside the walled city,- but many corners and crossings had their own
particular titles. The corner of Havana and Empedrado was called "The Corner of the Little Lamp," because in a tobacco shop there shone steadily the only street light in the district. The corner of Compostela and Jesus Maria was "Snake Corner" because of the picture of a serpent painted on a house wall there. Sol and Aguacate was "Sun Corner" for a similar reason, and the facade decoration there probably named the whole of Sol (Sun) Street. The block on Amargura between Compostela and Villegas was known, as the "Square of Pious Women" because two very religious ladies lived near, and because, too, of the particular "station of the cross" located on Amargura at this point. Other streets are named for famous men,O'Reilly, for instance, for General Alejandro O'Reilly (a Spaniard despite the cognQmen), who entered the city by way of that avenue when Havana was delivered from the English in 1763; the Count of Albemarle, the British commander who had lorded it over Havana since he and Admiral Pocock captured it the year before, retired down Obispo Street as the Spanish marched in, up O'Reilly. Tacon, Chacon, Carlos III, and very many others are, obviously, named for personages who have figured in local history. The streets (like the whole city and all the island, for that matter) are disappointingly barren of legends, ghosts, or recollections of any sort, except, now and then, of squalid crimes, these, usually, of very recent date. They depend for their interest upon details of their architecture .(handsome and heavy doors, intricate window grilles, color, unexpected balconies), and, especially, upon the passing show of their daily life.
From the Plaza de Armas two principal avenues Obispo and O'Reilly lead west, connecting with the
Phlotoqrap1h by Amrercan P1holo Cornpanyj
THE PRADO, HAVANA
HAVANA-THE CITY ITSELF 17
newer parts of town. Above the monumental pile of the National Bank building Obispo is our principal retail shopping street; below the Bank the tranquillity of business done by wholesale has settled noticeably within even the last five years. Remembering that originally the shops which line Obispo stood along Mercaderes (as that name, meaning Merchants, indicates) overflowing then into Oficios (Trades) as now they overflow into O'Reilly, it seems plain to me that their journeying is only half accomplished; their course is laid for the Prado, destined to cease to be our Fifth Av6nue, only to become our Broadway as Broadway is between the Flatiron and Times Square. Then we shall recognize Obispo as Wall Street, Central Park as our Madison Square, San Rafael as Twenty-Third Street, and Galiano as Sixth Avenue.
At the head of Obispo Street, joining it, in fact, with Central Park, is Monserrate Plaza, alias Albear Square. It contains a statue of the Spanish engineer, Albear, who built the Vento works that supply all this city and its suburbs with an abundance of pure sweet water. He was born in Havana in 1811, was educated as a civil engineer in Madrid, and served with distinction in the Spanish army. He died in 1889, and Havana, as the inscription reads, erected this tribute to her "illustrious son." Originally Havana got her water from an open ditch, the course of which Zanja (Ditch) Street follows. It crossed the walled city and entered the sea via Chorro (Stream) Street, a blind alley now, off Cathedral Plaza. Vento is some nine miles from Havana. There a multitude of springs well up through clean pebbly creek bottom; they are the outlet of a buried river which finds the surface here. Albear built a reservoir about these springs; it is the admiraC
tion of beholders who gaze into its shallows and see no source of supply. They note, however, a slight stirring of the surface, which maintains its level, although from one corner of this square inclosure a great volume of water pours into pipes which conduct it underground to another reservoir, at Palatino, whence it is distributed through the city and even across the bay. That the supply seems limited, toward noon, in tall buildings and in houses built on high land, is due, I am told, not to any scarcity of water, but to inadequate pumps and to pipes that are too small for the service required of them. This water is very hard; it coats receptacles, especially those in which it is boiled. It is, however, exceptionally pure. Albear, as he stands with feeble fountains striving and failing to play at his feet, bows his head in modesty, I think, at the thanks a truly grateful city bestows upon him for his great work. They say that Albear made it a requirement that all who use Vento water must give of it to drink to any person who asks. I have not been able to satisfy myself as to whether this is so, but certain it is that any caf6 or similar establishment will give a glass of water at request, and usually, if one prefers it "cold" as contrasted with natural," they will drop in a bit of ice as good measure.
Across Havana, following roughly the general direction the old walls had, but just beyond their site, reaching from Monte Street almost due north, including Central Park and the Prado, to Malecon and the sea, is a series of parks and promenades which constitute this capital's chief recreation ground.
This series begins with Colon Park, which, in itself, comprises two parks. The smallest of these is La India Park. It is diminutive, consisting merely of a plot of ground about a statue of an Indian girl of really
HAVANA-THE CITY ITSELF 19
Grecian loveliness, symbolical of Havana. This statue was presented to the city by the Count of Villanueva, after whom the railway station, facing it from Dragones Street, was named. The count at one time owned all the land in this vicinity; it constituted his country place. La India (the Indian girl) attained an increased interest for me the day a tourist explained to me, in all seriousness, that she is a likeness of Christopher Columbus' wife! When I added that I supposed the necklace she wears is the same Queen Isabel pawned to equip the Discoverer's fleet, the statue acquired an increased interest for him!
Opposite La India is Campo Marte (The Field of Mars), to me the handsomest park in Havana, especially when, as used to be customary in carnival times before the government "went broke," it was illuminated with gas lamps that shone, softly brilliant, through shades colored red, white, and blue. Campo Marte was so named by Governor-General Tacon, who fenced it in as a drill ground for troops.
From Colon Park (La India and Campo Marte considered together) Upper Prado leads to Central Park, and from there Prado proper extends to the water front drive of Malecon, skirting the sea from the Maestranza building on the north edge of "the old city," to San Lazaro Inlet on its way to Vedado and beyond.
The Prado is a double drive, with a double promenade down the center, shaded by a double row of laurel trees. When first we strolled here, delighted to watch, especially of Sunday afternoons, the people who promenade down the middle and the other people who drive around the outside, we trod on dirt, and under thousands of shuffling feet fine dust arose to annoy the senses and ruin, clothes. It was during the American
Military Government of the island that cement was laid the full length of the middle walk, around central reservations for landscape gardening in miniature. In those first years, however, the Prado was handsomer than it is now, despite these later improvements, for then its laurel trees were monarchs of their kind, widespread and leafy;- the cyclone of 1906 leveled all but two or three of them, and the rest, even though some lived on after they were straightened to place again, are thin shadows of what they used to be. Beautiful homes face upon the Prado, which is still the most desirable residence avenue within the city, but it is indicative of the trend of aff airs that, among its palaces, boarding houses, tenements, garages, cafes, and other sometimes very humble business places not only hold their own, but multiply.
Central Park is the present pulsing heart of Havana. It is a large rectangle, paved with cement, around garden plots where ornamental shrubs and flowering plants flourish in the shade of laurels and royal poncianas trimmed horizontally above the heads of the people, the people of every nationality, type, and condition, who pass and repass through that square ceaselessly, so that it is never deserted, neither by night nor by day.
In the middle of Central Park there is a statue of Jos6 Marti, the Apostol of Cuban liberties, pointing significantly down Obispo Street to the wholesale district where foreigners in shops and offices hold control over trade and commerce and agriculture in this, his and his followers' native land. According to Saavedra, the sculptor who designed the monument, Marti is addressing the Cuban people "just after he has once more given to the air the single-starred banner of freedom furled at Zanj on. Inspired by him the Cubans
J'Jwojraph bjy A alcrican Photo C'omlpan~y
CENTRAL PARK-THE HEART OF HAVANA
PhotoQrraph by Aniri(fl Photo Company
LA INDIA-LOKING NORTH ALONG UPPER PRADO
Photograph by A,,uatwo P'hoto Company
IN HAVANA'S MODERN SUBURBS JESUS DEL MONTE
HAVANA -THE CITY ITSELF 21
in 1895 threw themselves into the second war of independence. In high relief around the pedestal I have," the author explained to me, "'symbolized their action. There are sculptured nineteen figures which show this nation moving forward, men, young and old, women and children, all eager, all straining toward the goal ahead, which is Independence. Overshadowing them with her great white wings is Victory, bearing the palm of peace." They have not, however, be it well noted, overtaken Victory, nor yet laid hand on the palm branch she carries far aloft. This is why, I think, that Marti continues to point so earnestly down Obispo Street where, in the less noisy but not less strenuous fields of business, Cubans must win against invaders or lose all and more than they have ever obtained in battle fields by force of arms.
It seems to me that surely I know Central Park in all its moods and all its humors. Many and many a morning I have crossed it early, when the caretakers were washing its pavements with splashing streams from a hose. Then from the soil, above which roses nodded, heavy with sprinkling, there exhaled a fragrance to remind me, hopefully, of open country and freedom there. I've seen it at noonday, when its cement reflects the sunlight in blinding glare, and one, obliged to cross it, tacks from spot to spot of the scarce shade its cropped trees now cast. I've seen it late in the afternoon and in the early evening when the sun, setting, pours down Neptuno Street into its open space all the varying, now flaming, now failing, tints of an ending day, which illumine the facades of all the buildings facing upon it, removing from them the sordidness of what they are, till one might imagine* them pleasant fairy palaces of innocent gingerbread delights.
Then the park lamps are lighted, and they remind me of very yellow diamonds set in palest gold. Taxicab chauffeurs turn on their headlights. Coachmen waiting along the curb dismount grudgingly, and touch up their candles with tips of flame. From the staffs of the National, and Albisu, and Polyteama theaters, waving pennants proclaim "functions" about to begin. The top story of Hotel Plaza, sidling up to the Park at one corner, is ablaze with light. Similarly, the lower floor of the Inglaterra shines. In all the caf6s hereabouts there is animation. A band arrives, and its members take their places upon the raised platform about the statue of Marti. As they play the crowd already gathered in the Park grows more and more compact. All the green chairs are occupied, and many persons, finding or desiring no seats, walk, circling slowly round and round. have noticed, through the years,
how the quality of this "concert night" crowd in Central Park changes. Formerly, on the Inglaterra side, seated in the chairs there, one found "the good people," especially of the American colony. After the band had played "Bayameses" and then "America" they, already standing, turned with one accord to the Telegrafo, crowded about its little marble-topped tables and ordered ice cream,. and other things not as cold. Now one sees, if any, only the stragglers in the old places. "The good people" have deserted to the Miramar. The general color tone of the Central Park crowds is darker than it used to be; I have sometimes wondered if, eventually, there will not be a division among pleasure seekers in Havana as there is in Mexico, where, on Sundays, for instance, frock coats parade (or did when I was there) in the Alameda, while zarapes take the air in the Zocalo. Our discrimination
Pholograp'h by A inerican Photo Company
ATYPICAL HAVANA STRzEET-CRISTI CHURCH IN BACKGROUND
HAVANA -THE CITY ITSELF 23
will not, however, be based on the cut of clothes, but rather on the unalterable hue of skin beneath them. When the band players pack up their instruments and depart, ladies disappear from the Park with them. Men, however, stay on, sitting about in little groups, some of which are rather well organized tertutias, parties of friends who keep an unspoken engagement to meet there often to discuss politics, finance, and every other phase of life as they live it. Before the patrolling police have "moved on," toward dawn, the lingerers who outstay even these gossipers, the acrid smell of kindling fires, and a general reawakening in all the establishments about the square, announce another day. Milkmen, riding in from outlying farms, pewter pots a-jangle in their panniers, pass, singing in high, strained key in time to the patter of their horses' hurrying feet. 'When the Tres Hermanos puts out its lights (it never closes its doors), that other day is well begun.
Years come, years go, but I have not discovered that their seasons vary this routine particularly. In summer the poncianas spread a canopy of flame, and driving rains, beating little waves of water across the mirrorlike surface of the Park's cement, carry red petals from under the trees, where they have dripped like blood. In the spring there are other posies than those which occupy the garden plots in the fall, and when one meets in Central Park a strange folk, wearing Panama hats and carrying guidebooks, who halt one with accusing index finger and the challenge: "Do you speak English?" demanding, as countersign, directions how to get to Morro Castle and to Obispo Street, then one knows that it is the dead of winter (though the Park bloom all about one as before) and that we are besieged, invaded, by aliens who desecrate our sacredest places,
and, viewing them, commune together: Huh We can beat it on Main Street " I can't say I think so much of that !" Now ain't this interestin' ? " How much will it cost to get there?" How long will it take to get back?" "We've seen enough of this man's town." "You'll have to hurry if you're going to make the boat."
THE TOURISTS HAVANA
The "Florida Duck" is a festive bird,The famous goose of whom ye've heard
That laid gold eggs was a piker jay
Compared to the subject of this here "lay .....
- From El Pato de la Florida."
LIKE the -little boy who couldn't see the forest for the trees, the average tourist fails, I think, to see Havana because of the points of interest here he manages to include in his hurried itinerary, fortifications and churches especially, at which he stares without any understanding.
He ranks chief in his estimation Morro, Castle of the Three Kings, that gray fortress on the headland (morro means promontory, which gives this and many other forts similarly situated their common name) at the harbor's mouth. It is irregular in shape, built (1589-1597) in part on solid rock and in part hewn out of rock, so that it has the character of a natural formation shaped and modified by man. It rises from 100 to 120 feet above sea level; even its most prominent feature the lighthouse tower erected in 1844 by Governor-General O'Donnell, whose name it bears, high up in immense letters is dwarfed now by the spiderwork of an aspiring and useless wireless station at its rear.
The ascent to Morro is by an inclined road, which is shaded with laurels and royal poncianas, and hedged with cactus. The moat, some seventy 'feet deep, thirty 25
of which are cut in rock, is crossed by a drawbridge to the sallyport and the entrance, between dark rooms, to the central court. I went all through it once, down to the farthest dungeon we could reach with ropes and lanterns, saw cells, casemates, kitchens, bomb-proofs, and admired grated embrasures, vaulted roofs, dark recesses, but I wouldn't go again, not for pay, for the stairs are wearying and the climb hot; the smells I remember were sickening, and all in all I found there nothing to recompense me for the energy I expended upon that trip.
The guns on the ramparts are neither very old, nor yet modern. Below the castle, on the harbor side, are the dozen which constitute the Battery of the Twelve Apostles. It commands the harbor mouth. Five hundred yards below is the Battery La Pastora. East of the castle, commanding the sea, is Velasco Battery, named -in honor of that Captain Velasco whose fame is associated with the only fighting (1762) Morro despite its warlike aspect has ever experienced. He refused to surrender to the British, although he knew that Morro was undermined. Some of his men deserted him, even swimming across the harbor mouth to get away. He stayed on like the brave soldier that he was, and died of wounds received in defense of the fort intrusted to his charge. Hostilities were suspended between the English, attacking, and the Spanish on the defense, during the day that his funeral occurred. As his body was borne to its tomb in one of the churches the salutes of the Spanish guns in Havana were answered by those of the British across the bay. In the report Sir George Pocock made to the Admiralty the Englishman paid a just tribute to his enemy. In recognition of his services in defense of Morro (which was, however,
Photograph by American Photo Company
CUBAN PACK TRAIN
Photograph by American Photo Company
A COUNTRY MILK PEDDLER
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 27
taken when the English sprung their mines and stormed the breach made in its walls) Spain created his son Visconde del Morro, and decreed that a ship in the Spanish navy should always bear the name of Velasco. The vessel so named at the time of the Spanish-American War (it was built in 1861) was one of the fleet at Manila, and it was sunk by the American ship Boston. In the assault on Morro, Velasco's second in command, the Marques de Gonzalez, fell, sword in hand, and with these leaders died 130 men of their garrison; 400 more were wounded. There is a tablet to their memory set in one of the upper walls, on the seaward side, above those rocks upon which the Spaniards were, according to common report and little evidence that I know of, fond of tossing the bodies of Cuban patriots as tidbits to sharks.
From Morro one may walk to Cabafias, or, to give it full title, the Castle of St. Charles of the Cabin, which occupies a long length of hill above the harbor, and just opposite Havana. The harbor frontage is a continuous wall extending along the crest of the bay's east bank. The landward side has three pronounced bastions, and is protected by ditches forty feet deep. Within the fortification is a wearying labyrinth of windings and turnings, ascents and descents, narrow, high-walled passages and vaulted halls, covered ways, courts, barracks, prisons, quarters, a chapel; there are tree-lined roads and a drill ground; ramparts, parapets, and terrepleins, one beyond another, in confusion interminable. The point of greatest 'interest is Laurel Ditch, an inclosure against the walls of which Culans were lined up and shot by squads of Spanish soldiery detailed to the duty. When I was there the line marked by bullets in the wall was distinct for a distance of eighty-five feet;
it was called significantly the dead line." Under a tree where the firing squads stood the grass was worn till the ground showed bare; in contrast, close by the wall it grew thick and rank, fertilized, I veritably believe, by the blood shed there. A bronze memorial tablet has been set in the wall outside the ditch to commemorate the martyrdom of those who died there. The design represents an angelic messenger receiving the soul of an expiring patriot; when I saw the spot it flow occupies nothing but a painted board sign filled it.
Ascending to the ramparts, one gains a commanding view of harbor and town and sea and palm-fringed hills encircling Havana. The antiquated Spanish guns, elaborately ornamented and each one bearing the name of a sovereign, are quite in keeping with Cabafias age and general uselessness. These are the ones fired in salutation to entering ships. The marble shaft which rises from the next parapet commemorates the valor and loyalty- of Spanish soldiers who marched out from Havana and- captured Lopez and the Americans with him, who were betrayed into their hands in the hills of green Rangel, and executed with very unnecessary brutality at Atares along in 1851 or thereabouts. As a maze of intricacy, Cabafias is a place to see and marvel how governments spend their money; its real worth has never been proven, for there has been no fighting here since it was built. It was erected after the English, who captured Havana because they occupied this hill, fully demonstrated that whoso holds its eminence cradles Havana in the hollow of his hand.
Beyond Cabafias, at Triscornia, the Immigrant Station, there is an old and almost forgotten fort, San Diego, converted now to perfect peace, which antedates, I believe, both its neighbor and Morro.
Photograph by Alnericanl Photo Company
ENTRANCE TO CABAKIAs FORTRESS
Photograph by AmeicaCn Photo Comnpony
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 29
The oldest and by all odds the most interesting fortification in all Cuba, I should say, is La Fuerza, half hidden between the Senate and the old post-office building, on the Plaza de Armas. Here, now, is a place to see. It is in form quadrilateral, having a bastion at each of its four corners. It is twenty-five yards in height; the walls are double and the terrepleins are supported on arches, so I read, though what the statement means I have no more notion than others who ponder guidebooks and are impressed with warlike terminology. There used to be a moat. The drawbridge is replaced by a permanent plank walk. They say there is a bell in the tower which formerly sounded the hours and clanged alarm at sight of a hostile sail in years before there was a Cabafias, a Morro, even a Punta, or any walls to protect the town La Fuerza alone guarded.
Work on La Fuerza was begun by Hernando de Soto, and by 1544 a royal decree went forth that all warships entering thereafter should salute the place (then almost complete) with a ceremony not enjoyed by any other city in the New World save Santo Domingo. Here in Fuerza De Soto lived, and from here he sailed away to explore unknown areas of his jurisdiction, which embraced everything he might discover to the north. He found the Mississippi and a grave in its dark waters. On his departure De Soto left La Fuerza, and with it his office as governor, in command of his bride, the Lady Isabel de Bobadilla, "like her mother, a woman of character, and kindly disposition, of very excellent judgment and appearance." For four years she
awaited his return, scanning the sea, the story goes, from the little tower above Fuerza, which one may discover by looking close through intervening tree tops
from a certain position in the Plaza de Armas. The little bronze image upon the top of this tower is La Habana, and until one has set eyes upon it one has not "seen Havana," as the usual raillery runs. When at last the remnants of De Soto's fleet limped in by the harbor's mouth, and survivors, landing, hastened to tell the Lady Isabel of her husband's fate, her heart broke, and, the chroniclers add briefly, "she died."
La Fuerza is then the oldest habitable and inhabited building in the western hemisphere. Certain edifices at Santo Domingo antedate it (convents that while Christopher Columbus still lived arose in now despised Hayti, in size and architecture surpassing, their ruins show, any church edifice upon Fifth Avenue to-day excepting only the Catholic cathedral there) ; but they are abandoned wreckage, whereas La Fuerza houses a garrison of Rural Guards; its dungeons are storerooms,' and General Monteagudo and his family reside on the second floor.
To make him comfortable they have repaired the stairway; smooth cement steps have replaced the old stones, worn hollow by the feet which through the centuries had passed up and down. Arms and ammunition of latest design are packed away in the dungeons,
- damp and silent chambers, lighted by way of narrow apertures cut in the thick walls. I wonder into which of these they thrust "Mr. Bryant, prize master" ?
It was in the year 1779, to digress in consideration of Mr. Bryant, while the American war for independence was on, that out of the North came sailing the Yankee sloop Hero, square-sterned, twenty tons, carrying four guns and forty men, captain, Caleb Greene, of Providence, Rhode Island. She 'had a cargo of hoops and long staves, and she was bound to sell the same at Santo
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 31
Domingo, in commendable Yankee fashion. There were, however, two British vessels, the Carlisle and the Gayton, cruising West Indian waters in wait for precisely such as she. She was taken, to be brief, and a prize crew was put aboard, in command of "Mr. Bryant, prize master." "With strong gales and cloudy" they got her by Monte Cristi, bound straightaway for the prize courts of Jamaica. They were chased, however, by a Yankee brig through "brisk gales and hazey" and to keep right before the wind and outdistance her, as they did, they went far north of their course and brought up with a crash, in a storm, on the shores of eastern Cuba. Here is no place to repeat details I read with such interest in Mr. Bryant's logbook, preserved in the files of the National Archives of Cuba, then stored on the upper floor of La Fuerza. They "caught a young shark and eat him"; they caught "some crabbes and eat them" too; and they rifled a pelican's nest of its young. They flew "signals in Destress," and a brig and a sloop went by, disregarding these as well as the voice of their swivel gun. They were finally taken off by "ye Havannah," a small schooner whose master used" the castaways "discreetly," but at its destination, Port au Prince, they were, in accordance with the hospitable customs of the time, committed to the guardhouse. Mr. Bryant
escaped "just as the Spaniards were saying their pater noster." A guide he bribed left him "to wander about to and fro in a very dark and dismal night far from House or anything like a House, although I had," Mr. Bryant adds, "before paid his fee." Fortune had not, however, entirely deserted "the Englishman," for he got liberty from a "Humain Spaniard, a gentleman, to stay at his House," upon which he chanced,
where he amused himself, until opportunity offered to get to the British possession of Jamaica, by teaching English to the family of his benefactor, Captain D. Bernabe de la Torre, and from them, in turn, acquiring at least their names in Spanish. He left on hearing that a fisherman from Jamaica was on shore. The ladies assembled as he departed, and wished him "good Luck," on which he, not ungallant, "give them three hearss" The fisherman refused him passage and set him ashore on Sandy Key "where 2 Spaniards, a mulatto and a portageezeman was living to fish for Turtle." Time went by. "No appearance of any relief," Mr. Bryant confided to his log, "and God only knows when any will offer. . Every day seems a year, and still not the smallest appearance of any relief. . ." Then blank pages. Mr. Bryant reached Cuba alive, however, for from Bayamo they forwarded to the captain-general the documents I examined, "papers found on the Englishman." Possibly they brought him, too, to Havana, though here I permit imagination to transgress. I do not know that the captain-general imprisoned "Mr. Bryant, prize master," in Fuerza, as he might be surely expected to do, however, at that particular period especially; I do not know that he forgot to bring him forth again,- but such, things have occurred. Perhaps "the Englishman" found favor with Santiago or with those of its people who had removed to Bayamo through fear of buccaneers; perhaps they gave him passage on the first smuggler's ship outbound. for Jamaica, from where in time he returned his thanks to Captain D. Bernabe de la Torre, the" Humain Spainard" of Hayti, along with "2 english game cocks and a case of good Razon." Yet I declare that the ghost of Mr. Bryant gazes out at me from behind the double, barred
Photograph by American Photo Company
TOWER OF LA FUERZA Showing effigy, La Habana
7 .. ....
Photograph by American Photo Company
The oldest habitable and inhabited building in the western hemisphere
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 33
doors of those dungeons at Fuerza, he's looking through all the centuries for the smallest appearance of any relief "
And, as he turned from the unsympathetic sea around Sandy Key to reform the business methods of "2 Spaniards, a mulatto and a, portageezeman, living to fish for Turtle, because, as he gravely observes, they had not the right notion of catching them, so, I fancy, finding "no appearance of any relief in visitor after visitor who intrudes, now, on his retirement, he must solace himself with criticising the barrack life of the motley garrison with which he shares La Fuerza, time being. Mr. Bryant was something of a soldier, I doubt not, in his day; I wonder if his judgment here, too, is that they have ''not the right notion !"
The very picturesque fort which adds so greatly to the beauty of the Glorieta at the foot of Prado where that avenue joins the sea wall boulevard of Malecon, is Castle San Salvador of the Point. Its construction was begun in 1589, work having commenced just previously on Morro opposite, which the fortlet at Punta complements in defense of Havana. Upon the outer walls of the fort are old cannon; they have earned their honorable retirement, for when the English besieged Havana in 1762, they were silenced only by the batteries of Morro itself, held by the enemy. The reluctant surrender of Punta marked the end of this city's resistance to Pocock and to Albemarle.
Formerly the fort at Punta was well outside the city proper. It was 200 yards from the city walls, and it was separated from them by a moat and a drawbridge. Where the walls once stood is now a sloping reach of parked ground, stretching from the sea wall here to
Trocadero Street, and, interrupted by modern buildings, on to the old Arsenal.
The building of these walls began in 1633, and nine thousand men, mostly African slaves, lent pro rata by residents in the city, labored upon them. A tax on wine went toward payment of the work, and the coffers of Mexico contributed. Originally there were two gates only in the city walls, one near Punta and the other at the head of Muralla Street. Later two other gates were opened. The walls were finished in 1797.
Havana outgrew the protection they furnished. No longer a necessity, they became a nuisance. I remember that in 1900-1902 squatting tenements sheltered squalor all along their length, for we visited the last of the reconcentrados at about that time, in crowded and dirty quarters standing then under the single turret left now, like a landmark, back of the Church of the Angels and in front of the Tobacco Trust. It was under the Palma administration that the last of their wreckage was removed, leaving only this monument and another somewhat similar at the head of Teniente Rey Street as mementoes.
The fortification known as Principe Castle, crowning Principe, formerly Arostegui Hill, at the end of Carlos III Boulevard, was built by Silvestre Albarca in 17741779. The height had been temporarily fortified in 1771. This is now the national penitentiary. Beside it are many barrack-like buildings, constituting Military Hospital No. 1. Beyond these, on the seaward side of the hill, overlooking Vedado, Havana, green hills and valleys of inland country, and a wide blue sweep of gulf, is the old Pirotecnia Militar, now the University of Havana, an institution founded in 1721, by a papal bull issued to Dominican monks by Innocent XIII. It
THE TOURISVS HAVANA 35,
was then the Royal and Pontifical University of Havana. It lost the "pontifical" in 1842, with the secularization of the Dominican Order, and the "royal" became "national" somewhere along in 1902, when the school removed from its old home in the Dominican Convent building, down town, to its present far pleasanter situation. It seems strange, yet is a fact, that the University has always been co-educational; first it was only potentially so, for it was so far from the thought of its founders that women would attend that they forgot to bar them, and now perhaps one sixth or even a fifth of the students are girls; most of these are enrolled in the school of pedagogics, but some study medicine, and, now and then, one or two take to law. It is the University of Havana that legalizes foreign diplomas. Graduates of foreign institutions, in order to practice their respective professions in Cuba, must conform to the requirements of a long military order that subjects them to fees and examinations and red tape measureless; time, money, and patience are consumed, but after the ordeal the name of the successful candidate is published in the yearly report of the University, and the applicant is then considered incorporated in the college." Of what Americans know as "college life" there is none at all in this University. When I investigated I found that the student body was not organized; there were no elections, and so no perennial excitement of petty but very practical politics. I found no rushes, rows, and rivalries between the "years." In fact, the courses are so arranged that no recognition of classes is practicable. There were no flourishing athletic organizations; those boys who constituted the nine and the eleven that did exist were regarded as suspicious characters by faculty and students alike. There was
then no attempt at field sports. There is no gymnasium. I have heard since some dispirited "yells. There is no campus daily paper, no comic weekly, no literary monthly; in 1904 a "Literary Review" issued a few solemn numbers, in comparison to which the annual report of an archeological society would seem frivolous reading. In short, the student here never goes to college; he merely attends school. He goes to classes and he comes home again, not to a dormitory or a club or a friendly "frat house," but to a bordin where he is decidedly persona non grata, because he and his kind (so one who ought to know confessed it to me) delight to break furniture and to steal small ornaments, to make love to lady lodgers, to invite ejectment by every known wile and others especially invented as need appears. There is an excellent physician in this capital whose boast it is that in college days he lived through all the student boarding houses in Havana, paid none, and from each was finally summarily set into the street without a latchkey. If then the Cuban student is not talking politics, or plotting against the class above, organizing next semester's campaign for his frat, "
- what, besides "beating" his boarding house, is the young man doing with his leisure time? The question had better pass uninvestigated. They re a solemn set, these Cuban students, pale, emaciated, and sunken eyed. I'd like to think it is consumption of too much midnight oil ails all of them. Some, certainly, are serious-minded and well-informed, and they take a surprising, and, to an American, inexplicable, interest in matters one might imagine would concern them not at all. They frequently lead in demonstations for or against the government. They stoned the office of an editor who denounced Ferrer, and they compelled the
Photograph by Americau Photo Company
REMNANT OF HAVANA'S OLD CITY WALLS Showing part of the Prado-Malecon Drive in Havana
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 37
speaker of the house of representatives to apologize to them for certain utterances of his. There is perhaps no body in this community any single man or institution desires less to antagonize, nor any body that, once antagonized, or, vice versa, pleased, can make its opinions quite so obvious to all concerned, as can the students of Havana University.
Atares Castle, beyond the Western Railway Station, in the suburb of Jesus del Monte, was built by Agustin Cranmer in 1763-1767 after Havana's English captors had emphasized the strategical importance of its hill, at the head of the harbor. On the slopes of Atares Crittenden of Kentucky and fifty of the Americans who with him had a share in the Lopez Expedition of 1851 were shot, and their bodies were dragged at the heels of the Spaniards' horses through the streets of the town over rocks and through mire.
A park before the Beneficencia Orphan Asylum covers the site of Reina Battery; Santa Clara, also on the Vedado car route, is still occupied, as are those other battery-barracks along the shore in this suburb. There is a fortlet at Chorerra, at the mouth of the Almendares, and another corresponding to it at Cojimar. All are recent constructions compared with the torreon (tower) at San Lazaro, just beside that vanishing inlet, in front of the leper hospital. This was built in 1556, not as a defense, but as a lookout against pirates. Here citizens kept watch by night and by day, and on sight of a suspicious sail, they warned Havana.
Of all the churches the Cathedral interests the visitor most, because here in a niche now marked by a patch of fresh plaster, near the altar, on the left as one faces it, the bones of Christopher Columbus used to rest. In 1898, when the Spanish evacuated Havana, they took the
remains with them, reinterring them with ceremony in the Cathedral at Seville. Our Cathedral of agestained stone faces Cathedral or Cienaga (Swamp) Square. It was planned as a convent by the Jesuits as early as 1656, and by them erected in 1724; after their expulsion it became the Cathedral in 1789. Its interior seems to me utterly devoid of interest, for despite guidebook assertion I cannot discover either value or beauty in its altar paintings, nor anything in particular to admire in its decoration, because, to my notion, this decoration is not only in itself unlovely, but it actually detracts from what beauty the building might have by right of its size. Certain mahogany chests of the rooms back of the church proper are attractive because they look old and mysterious, and in one tall wardrobe-like casing there I saw a handsome silver "holy of holies" and a cross set with precious stones; the genuineness of some (the emerald drops) I doubt seriously.
The old Dominican Convent, filling the block bounded by Obispo, San Ignacio, O'Reilly, and Mercaderes, is older than the Cathedral, for it was founded in 1578. The white friars deserted it, however, years ago. Warehouse brokers and clerks hold forth in its cloistered corridors now.
The Franciscan Convent, its tower standing well above any other in the city, faces the Plaza de San Francisco in the very center of the wholesale district. The convent building is, I believe, the oldest of its kind in the city, for it was begun in 1574 and finished in 1591. It has been several times remodeled and improved. It was "desecrated"' by the English when they captured Havana in 1762; I understand that they used it as a barracks, and, what was worse, held "Protestant"' services here. From that date it has been deemed fit
THE TO URIST'S HAVANA 39
for secular purposes only; it is the Havana customs house now.
On O'Reilly Street, between Compostela and Aguacate, is the dreary pile of Santa Catalina Convent, a nunnery of the old and storied style. Some hundred women, bound by the strictest vows, pass their lives within its inclosure. The windows are closed; no gleam of light ever shines through. One never sees the cloistered nuns. Acceptable girls who desire to immure themselves are received on a year's probation. At the end of that time they may leave, it is said, if they will, but they generally elect to remain, despite, sometimes, the prayers of their relatives, to whom they are lost forever once the doors close upon them at the end of their novitiate. The convent is wealthy. It has received many bequests, and girls who become its "'brides of Christ" "(by joining the sisterhood that is immured) usually bring some dowry to the institution. The convent building was begun in 1680, and the church was dedicated in 1700. It contains relics of the holy martyrs Saints Celestine and Lucida, brought from Rome in 1803.
La Merced Church, on the corner of Cuba and Merced streets, is one of the most fashionable in town. Among its possessions is a faded painting representing with considerable inaccuracy in dates, names, and drawing what is considered to have been the first miracle performed in the New World, on a battle field in Santo Domingo, when Columbus and his men appealed to Our Lady of Mercies for help against the Indians and were rewarded with an apparition of the Virgin and the Child.
Other churches are Cristo, where Catholic services are held in English, the Church of the Holy Angel, a comparatively modern edifice on Pefia Pobre Hill, well worth visiting if for nothing more than the view down
the queer narrow streets that lead to its doors; San Agustin; and, in that suburb, Jesus del Monte Church, on a hill, from the yard before which a very beautiful view of Havana is to be had; and, finally, Bolen, on the corner of Luz and Compostela. It was built in 1704, and takes its name from Our Lady of Bethlehem, patroness in Spain of the Francisan Order of Jeronymites. The church and monastery, and free school in connection, were maintained by the Franciscan monks for nearly a century. Then the buildings were taken by the government for use as barracks. In 1853 they were given to the Jesuits, who established the College of Belen for boys, and set up an astronomical and meteorological observatory reputed to be the best in all Latin America, they also collected a library rich in prints and drawings illustrating Cuban history, and formed a museum of native woods and natural history specimens. James Anthony Froude wrote of them in 1887, when they had a school of 400 pay pupils and hundreds free: "'They keep on a level with the age; they are men of learning; they are men of science; they are the Royal Society of Cuba," a reputation to which they live up even to this day. They have established a seismic station at Luyano. It is of Belen Church that the Countess Merlin wrote, in her letters, when she said: "Yesterday afternoon I drove with my aunt, Maria Antonia, and before making our way to Tacon Boulevard (then the popular promenade) we went to see my cousin Pepilla. As we crossed Belen Square our way was blocked by a mob gathered about the church. The crowd beat at the doors, but did not dare to enter. One door was shut and the other half open; through it suddenly appeared the head of a man who cried out solemnly: 'Pray for the criminal, oh my brothers!' I asked what all this meant, and was told
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 41
that a murderer escaping from justice had just taken refuge in that church, which can extend the right of asylum. 'He made a clever escape,' added the unknown man who explained to us. 'It was a long distance and everybody ran after him. If he had not succeeded in reaching Belen .. ' How is that?' I asked. 'Have not all the churches the same. privilege of extending the right of asylum?' 'No, madame. Belen and one other are the only ones that have the right and no one but the priests know which that other church is. If by chance a fugitive does happen to get into it, his having guessed correctly is considered a proof of divine protection, and the malefactor is pardoned."'
Few church services in Havana, even during Holy Week, are really interesting. I attended misa de qalto (cock's mass) one Christmas Eve at midnight, and heard the barnyard fowls imitated in the music, at Santa Catalina, the cloistered convent! That was years ago; only recently I walked the town over on another Christmas Eve, and failed to find any church where such services were being held. It may be that the faithful were at mass behind the doors we found closed, but assuredly the half drunk and wholly irreverent public abroad on the streets on Christmas Eve is no longer admitted freely. During Holy Week, we have "the Monument," when the altars are brightly illuminated and the Sacrament displayed to adoration, but even on these occasions the churches close early, to avoid scenes entailing disrespect. On Saturday of Glory", the Ascension is commemorated, as a tremendous clangor of bells at ten o'clock announces to an uninterested and unobservant town.
No tourist in Havana fails to visit Colon Cemetery, the unlovely city of our dead. There are here no wide and
quiet lawns, no restful vistas, to comfort the living in the thought that they make the final abiding place of those who sleep eternally a little easier to endure, but only hard, dry paths among vaults of brick and marble, hung with hideous garlands of bisque flowers fastened, with painted tin leaves, on wire stems. One passes beneath a ponderous entrance, on the pinnacle of which stands a group of three figures, heroic size, representing Faith, Hope, and Charity. A bas-relief below shows Columbus bearing the light of Christianity into the New World. One looks, of course, for the tomb of General Calixto Garcia, recipient of the famous message, and for that of Maximo Gomez, who commanded the Cuban Army of Liberation, at the head of which he rode into Havana when the tricolor flag of the single star made its first official entrance into this capital. A little to the left as one advances, on a side avenue, is a monument erected to the Student Martyrs, shot at Punta in 1871. The figures at the base of the shaft represent Justice and vindicating History, truth written on her scroll. The very peculiar winged figure emerging from the door open in the pedestal is symbolical of Innocence. The eight young men who lie buried here were members of a medical class in the University. The class entire was charged with desecrating, in an idle moment while they waited a lecture to be given in a classroom adjoining the old Espada Cemetery, the grave of a Spanish journalist killed in Key West in the course of a political quarrel with a Cuban. Later this man's son was summoned from Spain; the niche was opened, and the fact that no desecration had occurred was demonstrated. But meanwhile the class was arrested and tried by court-martial. It was a time of very bitter feeling; for some reason or other the Spanish Volunteers,
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 43
quartered in Havana in numbers, took up the matter, and, parading the streets in a state of mutiny, demanded the death of the young men, who were Cubans, though of very loyal Spanish parentage. They were bravely defended by a Spanish officer, Capdevilla, but nevertheless to appease the mob eight were sentenced to be shot, and were duly executed, on November 27, 1871. The youngest was sixteen years old and the eldest in his twenties. It was considered significant then, but to me at least it seems natural enough now, that the last letters of these eight were addressed to their mothers, none wrote to the Spanish fathers, one of whom offered his considerable fortune, first for his boy's life, and then for merely a delay in the proceedings. After the execution, which occurred by the city prison, where a fragment of the house wall against which they were lined up is left standing as a monument, the bodies of the eight young victims were carted away and buried outside consecrated ground, crisscross, in one ditch, as those of traitors. Later, they were removed to their present resting place. Others of their classmates were sentenced to hard labor, and were jeered as they marched, like convicts, through the public streets of this city. Still others were exiled to Spain, and found more kindly reception there. Later, by way of pardons, the government did all that it could in reparation for the fearful damage the mob had inflicted, in a moment when its madness found local officials weak. The man who signed the death warrant of his eight young compatriots was a Cuban, acting, in the governor-general's absence, as his substitute. I ehind the chapel in Colon Cemetery is the plot of ground where the victims of the Maine were buried until their removal to
the United States. Before one arrives there, one passes the costly Firemen's Monument, erected by popular subscription to the memory of thirty members of the Volunteer Brigade who lost their lives in performance of their duty when a warehouse burned on Mercaderes Street. Gunpowder stored within the building, in defiance of the law, exploded in the conflagration, and many persons besides these were injured and killed.
There is to my notion nothing whatsoever either pleasant or peaceful about this cemetery of ours, but there is much which is astonishing to be seenalong about four o'clock on any afternoon when funerals arrive. Cuba is a bad enough place to live in, but certainly it is a still worse place in which to die !
Twelve or fifteen years ago it was no uncommon sight to see upon the streets of Havana a carriage (perhaps an elegant conveyance, or maybe merely a hired hack) moving slowly, carrying inside a Catholic priest in the full regalia of his office; an altar boy, bearing the articles necessary to the ceremony of the last sacrament, preceded the equipage. Men who passed lifted their hats; women crossed themselves and prayed, while the singular procession moved forward to the sound of a tinkling bell toward the house death menaced. Now, however, that .:public manifestations are forbidden to the Church, its priests go to administer Extreme Unction quietly, with less display, but I remember seeing a coche pass one day, conveying a priest and his impedimenta, and learned from a pedestrian, who uncovered and stood with head bowed, that although no altar boy was in evidence (a bell did sound) this padre preceded the Dark Messenger through somebody's door.
The pristine glories of funerals, however, remain
Photograph by Americau Photo Company
MONUMENT TO STUDENT MARTYRS
Colon Cemetery, Havana
THE TOURIST'S HAVANA 45
undimmed. The great black hearses still gleam with gold; their coachmen wear bright red coats trimmed with gilt braid, smallclothes to match, and cocked hats on flaxen wigs. The cars are drawn by three or four spans of horses, draped in black nets, with yellow garnishings. Occasionally, while one hearse suffices to carry the coffin, three or four more follow after it with flowers, the huge wreaths hung often upon the four corners of the conveyance, and across the decorative figures that kneel on top. At the cemetery these extra or gala cars (the more of them the finer the funeral) draw aside while the one conveying the body passes through the great entrance, slowly approaching the chapel, which is within the burial grounds. Chanting priests, dispensing holy water, meet it as it enters, and, turning, follow it, chanting still. If by chance the dead man died "out of the faith," he receives no such welcome, -lucky he to get within the "holy field" at all! The friends who have come in carriages leave their conveyances at the gate, and, bareheaded, march on foot to the church. No women, be it said in passing, attend funerals in this country; her grave is the only place a Latin lady approaches unchaperoned. The candles on the chapel altar are lighted, and from a long distance without they can be seen shining against the semi-darkness indoors. The hearse stops before the chapel, the coffin is withdrawn and carried inside upon the shoulders of the pallbearers, the priests having entered already. .The friends troop after. Solemn chantings and responses sound. Without, however,, the red-clad attendants of the hearse have unceremoniously snatched off their yellow wigs, and stand mopping their faces free of sweat and lugubrious expression. The coachmen of the carriages which have
followed up the avenue at the rear of the procession of pedestrians tilt back their high hats, and with the movement cast aside solemnity. They laugh and chat together.' All the pomp and circumstance in which they acted part is tawdriest mummery! From the chapel the coffin is borne to its vault, or to its grave in earth, for there are some such, in the excavated dirt of which one may see the unjointed bones of predecessors in this resting place, who have been removed to make room for the newcomer, deposited next with a jolt.
Graves are for sale (price, $10 to $30 a meter) or for rent. There are, besides, certain burial dues, which may be waived in the case of the solemnly poor." If at the end of five years payments of rent have ceased, the body is dug up, passed through the crematory, they say, and consigned to the bone heap. Along in 1901-1902 I climbed the wall of this osario (somebody bad placed a plank conveniently), and photographed the moldering scrap heap inside, skulls, thigh bones, arms, legs, and broken coffins, tossed there pell-mell and left to bleach in air and sun and rain !
Undertakers are scarce in Havana, or were five years ago, to be exact, when I had occasion to investigate and "write them up." I learned enough then to satisfy me once for all, and have not turned any attention to this matter since. Embalming was then a novelty here. The business of a tren funerario does not usually include it. Such an establishment merely sells (or rents !) coffins, provides hearses, and stands ready to take more or less complete charge of the funeral in all its details. Coffins vary in elegance. There are plain boxes the poor buy, and carry away on their shoulders, receiving reverence in lifted hats of
THE TOURIST' S HAVANA 47
men and signs of the cross made by women in all the streets along which they pass. Or the very poorest may hire a- coffin in which to convey the dead to the grave, where the body is taken from the box and buried in earth without any protection, the coffin being duly returned to the funeral establishment from which it was engaged. Nor is a hearse necessary to get a poor man's corpse to the cemetery. Sometimes (especially if it is small) the coffin is carried on the shoulders' of mourners, or the sanitary department will provide a wagon. If the deceased is rich, however, he buys his lot and pays his dues and his friends fare forth and hire him not only one hearse, but several of them. They buy him dozens and scores and maybe hundreds of hideous purple and white funeral wreaths tied with broad bands of purple ribbon and lettered in gold. If he is prominent, they lay him in "burning chapel,5' that is, they light candles around the coffin and mount guard about it. Maybe they lay him in his place of business or in the public office where he was chief, and let the people file by and gaze upon him for the last time. Maybe they bring a priest there and have him chant responses, or they stop at a church door en route, and the priest comes forth to perform the service as all stand in the street. The body may not be taken into the church, so strong now is the reaction against the former custom of burying all the dead under the church floors or in the church walls. I shall never forget the interview I had with the proprietor of a very well-known "funeral train" (establishment). "The cost of a funeral," said he, "depends upon the luxury of the display made, upon the financial status of the fan-lily' and upon the affliction the survivors feel. I charged $1000 the other day for a funeral I would have
conducted for $500 if the persons who made the arrangements had been in any condition to bargain, which they were not; I took advantage of the situation and cleared $800 on the deal. One charges what one can, naturally, for customers don't die but once, and we must make the most of every opportunity. If you are thinking of burying anybody, my advice to you is to make your bargain first, and stand firm; stand firm, and you'll find the price adjustable, exactly like the price of all other things. If you make no arrangements beforehand, of course a funeral establishment will charge as it pleases, and when the affair is over and done with the bills must be met."
The street car visitors take back to town from the cemetery passes along Seventeenth Street in Vedado ,the handsomest residence avenue in this, the newest and most aristocratic suburb. From a block above the car line clear to the sea there are avenues of homes, in beautiful gardens, the most attractive of which combine American comfort with local styles in architecture which assure coolness. It is here that the majority of the American colony resides.
There are other suburbs, all of them worth visiting by street car. Out Principe way are the Botanical Gardens and the Villa of the Mills, so called because once there were tobacco mills in this vicinity. The old royal ditch (zanja real) which used to supply Havana with water flows through the grounds. This was formerly the summer residence of captains-general, but was made later a public school.
The car line into Cerro used to be a country road, as I have said. Beyond Palatino now a highway leads past the palace Las Delicias, the handsomest private, residence in the island, to Vento, where the waterworks
GLORIES OF A FUNERAL IN CUBA Photograph W,'American Photo Company