But such qualities of head and heart, such fervour of self-sacrifice and steadiness of purpose, as marked the career of Carlos Manuel Cespedes, must surely ent.i.tle him to an honoured place on the golden roll of the world's true heroes. May he rest in peace!

CHAPTER V.

THE HISTORY OF THE REBELLION UP-TO-DATE.

The dying Cespedes bequeathed his honours to his friend and henchman, Don Salvador Cisneros y Betancourt, Marquez de Santa Lucia, who was forthwith elected President of the Republic. He displayed exceptional ability, endeavoured to bring some discipline into the ranks of his more or less disorderly followers, and succeeded for a time, not only in this attempt, but also in reviving the dashed spirit of the rebels in the Eastern Province. At length he wearied of what ultimately proved a thankless task, and retired to make room for Don Francisco Aquelera, who became third President of this essentially rural Republic, whose Parliament was wont to a.s.semble in the heart of a dense forest, or in some mountain solitude.

Aquelera, although a man of marked ability, was no longer in the prime of life, and soon grew tired of the roving existence circ.u.mstances compelled him to lead. After his retirement, a new name begins to figure prominently in Cuban affairs,--that of Maximo Gomez, who was elected Commander-in-Chief of the rebel forces, _L'Ejercito libertador de la Republica de Cuba_, some twenty years ago. With a comparatively small following, he managed, by sheer dint of audacity and profound strategical knowledge, to keep 20,000 Spaniards at bay. Gomez is a thorough soldier, one of the best the New World has possessed. I met him once, and was greatly struck by his martial bearing and his fiery black eyes, rendered still more conspicuous by his perfectly white hair, and long moustachios. He was born in 1837. Although afflicted with a terrible ulcer in his right leg, and unable to sit a horse except in a side saddle like a woman's, he is an intrepid rider, and knows not the meaning of the words fear or fatigue.

The other leader of the present rebellion is not less remarkable, Calixto Garcia Iniguez, who began his career as a bank clerk, and who, therefore, combines with soldierly qualities of a high order, considerable financial and business knowledge.

The treaty of Zanjou, signed February 10th, 1878, put a stop, for some years, to anything like rebellion on a serious scale. A good deal of mystery surrounds this treaty, to which the President of the Republic and his secretary, only, affixed their signatures, without the formal consent of the other rebel generals, officers, and deputies. However, Marshal Martinez Campos, Commander-in-Chief of the Spanish army, approved it, although the enemies of the Cuban cause describe the doc.u.ment, somewhat sarcastically, as being more of a deed of capitulation than a treaty. The clauses proposing that the political organization of the island should be placed on the same footing as that of Puerto Rico, that a general amnesty for all political offences should be forthwith promulgated, that political prisoners should be pardoned, and that coolies and fugitive slaves who had served in the Cuban army should be emanc.i.p.ated, met with the approval of Senor Canovas de Castillo, and the treaty was officially signed and accepted at Madrid.

For some time afterwards, peace nominally existed in almost every part of the island. The rebels were not, however, wholly inactive.

Notwithstanding the accepted treaty, there was still a President of the Cuban Republic, Vicente Garcia, and a Parliament, which sat in the wilderness, at stated periods of the year. In 1879 this "Parliament" was dissolved, and with its dissolution the period of the "big rebellions"

closes, and that of the little wars, _la guerra chiquita_, opens.

Meanwhile, Maximo Gomez, seeing there was no immediate work for him to do, betook himself to San Domingo, to bide his time, and to place himself in active correspondence with the Gran Junta, or princ.i.p.al Cuban Revolutionary a.s.sociation, in New York.

And here it may be as well to examine rather closely two matters connected with Cuban affairs. The first is the a.s.sistance afforded to the Cuban rebels by the United States, and the second, the conditions of the rebel army, as it stood three years since, when the insurrection began to a.s.sume alarming proportions.

As far back as 1823, John Quincy Adams said: "From a mult.i.tude of considerations, Cuba has become an object of transcendent importance to the commercial and political interests of our Union. Its commanding position, ... the nature of its productions and of its wants, furnishing the supplies and needing the returns of a commerce immensely profitable and mutually beneficial, give it an importance in the sum of our national interests with which that of no other foreign territory can be compared, and little inferior to that which binds the different members of the Union together."

The reasons which induced Adams to make this statement have not diminished in late years; far from it, especially since the enormous development of the Mississippi valley, and of the Gulf Coast. Although there can be no question that the vast majority of the people of the United States have expressed an unselfish sympathy for the unfortunate Cubans, their politicians, and, above all, their financiers, have added to this sentiment a profound knowledge of the great value which Cuba must eventually prove to the Union, were she more firmly governed, and her American interests better protected. Among the advocates for the annexation of Cuba have been the following Presidents: Jefferson, Monroe, John Quincy Adams, Jackson, Polk, Fillmore, Pierce, and Buchanan.

A remarkably interesting article on Cuban Diplomacy from 1795 to 1898 appeared recently in _Harper's Magazine_, in which Professor Albert Bushnell traces the rise of the sympathy of the American people for Cuban independence or annexation, and points out very plainly that "when, as in 1886, slavery was definitely abolished, the Spanish Government promised other excellent reforms, but, as usual, very soon things fell back into their old rut. The Captain-General was still practically absolute; the island was saddled with the debt created to hold it in subjection; it was still exploited for the benefit of Spain, and the same wearisome impediments were laid on foreign traders. For example, in 1880 several vessels were fired upon by Spanish gunboats outside the jurisdiction of Cuba; in 1881 an American cattle steamer, subject to a tax of $14.90, was taxed $387.40, because she had some lumber on board. In 1882 began a long drawn-out correspondence on overcharges and illegal exactions by Spanish consuls over vexatious fines for small clerical errors, and over annoying pa.s.sport regulations.

The most serious trouble arose out of the refusal of the Spanish authorities, to return estates confiscated during the war to American citizens of Cuban birth.

"Meanwhile trade between the United States and Cuba was advancing by leaps and bounds. In 1850 the sum of the Cuban trade into and out of the United States was $20,000,000; in 1880 $76,000,000; in 1894 $105,000,000. American capital became engaged in sugar and other industries. The two countries tried to put their tariffs on a better footing by the Convention of 1884, for the mutual abandonment of discriminating duties; in 1893 Spain accepted reciprocity under the tariff of 1890; but the Cuban authorities evaded the privileges thus conferred, on the ground that they were governed by a special Spanish translation from the English version of the treaty, and not by the original Spanish version; and it was three years before the Home Government could straighten out this petty snarl.

"In 1884-5 came some filibustering expeditions; the United States exerted itself to stop them, and there was no Cuban insurrection. On the whole, the years from 1879 to 1894 were freer from diplomatic controversy than any like period since 1845. Meanwhile the Cubans in the United States had acc.u.mulated a revolution fund of a million dollars."

I have already stated that a network of secret societies has covered Cuba, ever since the beginning of this century. Branches of these mysterious a.s.sociations have been established in nearly every city on the seaboard of the two Americas, from New York to Buenos Ayres, at Boston, Savanah, Charlestown, Norfolk, Tampa, Kingston (Jamaica), etc.

Their headquarters have been established, for some five and forty years, in the American metropolis, and are known as the Gran Junta, or Cuban Revolutionary Agency.

From this centre, the rebellion has been mainly worked. It is presided over, at the present time, by Senor Thomaso Estrado Palma, who was born at Bayamo, some sixty-seven years ago, and who for a short time acted as President of the Cuban Republic. He was captured by the Spaniards, and imprisoned for several years. About 1895 he reappeared in New York, as headmaster of a Hispano-American College, and as one of the leading members of the Junta. He is not only thoroughly well aquainted with all the secrets of the rebels, but is also by no means ignorant of the movements of the Spaniards. He bears an eminently respectable character, is a man of considerable literary attainments, and, considering his age, may be described as remarkably active. The New York Junta publishes a bi-weekly paper, ent.i.tled _La Patria_, edited by Don Enrique Jose Varona, who, if I mistake not, is a brother of that Varona who was shot during the affair of the "Virginius." The line of Presidents of the Cuban Republic is still unbroken, and the gentleman who at present fills the position is a man of considerable culture, and, moreover, a wealthy planter, whose estates, however, he has neglected for some years, in order the better to serve his country.

One of the great grievances of the Spaniards is the fashion in which the American Government has tolerated the existence of this Gran Junta, and the formation of branch offices, all over the States. And, when you come to think of it, it does seem somewhat intolerable that a power which calls itself friendly,--since it has a representative at the court of Madrid,--should encourage a whole network of conspiracy against a Government, with which it keeps up a constant interchange of official courtesies; but at the same time, it should be remembered that these a.s.sociations cannot be suppressed, in a free country like America, so long as the members take care not to go beyond the letter of the law.

Under President Cleveland, matters were otherwise. The United States Government made some pretence of moderating the zeal of the Juntas, and spent many million dollars in endeavours to prevent the departure of filibusters, to join the rebel forces. But notwithstanding the dignified policy of President Cleveland, which for some years gave the Spaniards a fair chance of pacifying the distracted island, they utterly failed to avail themselves of the opportunity.

The task of restoring order in such an island as Cuba is one demanding almost superhuman energy and tact, and these are qualities in which the Spanish race, a naturally excitable one, is absolutely deficient. Yet it must be allowed that the Cuban civil war resembles none other that has ever been fought in any part of the world, or at any period of recorded history. Revolution, as a rule, starts from the large cities, and thence penetrates by degrees into the villages and rural districts. It is quite otherwise in Cuba. With the exception of one or two easily quelled riots in Havana, Cienfuegos, Santiago, and Bayamo, the capital cities and towns of the island have scarcely partic.i.p.ated in the rebellion; their citizens, although for the most part Cuban born, have apparently remained aloof,--possibly because the rebellion has proved exceedingly injurious to their trade and commerce. This accounts for the curious fact that while we hear so much about the terrible sufferings of the Cuban people, and their deadly hatred of their Spanish masters, we see in numberless photographs, reproduced in our ill.u.s.trated papers, and representing the departure or arrival of Spanish troops at Havana or other leading cities, such a display of enthusiasm on the part of the citizens, as we should have little expected.

The long streets are thronged, the balconies are crowded, Spanish flags float in all directions, and the troops march along under a shower of flowers, whilst young ladies are seen rushing forward to offer them refreshments. Now it must be remembered that at least two-thirds of these enthusiastic spectators are quite as Cuban as the most ardent of the rebels; but they are people who have something to lose by the continuance of the civil war, and a good deal to gain by its cessation, therefore they eagerly welcome the Spanish soldiers, in the hope that they may suppress the rebellion, without the intervention of the Americans, a people who, however well-intentioned they may be, are, from the Cuban point of view, aliens in race, and even in religion. We should never lose sight of the fact that the rebels are not the angels some writers would lead us to believe them. Even enthusiasts, who see their budding wings, acknowledge that they have destroyed, burnt, pillaged, and retaliated, quite as barbarously as their Spanish enemies.

I remember hearing, from the lips of one who saw the outrage perpetrated, a story of some eight or ten Spanish women who, in the war of 1873, went to the rebel camp to beg the lives of their captured fathers, brothers, and husbands.

The unhappy women were treated in the most revolting manner, and subsequently butchered. Hundreds of other stories, just as horrible, have been told of Maceo, and above all, of Manuel Garcia, the ex-brigand chief, who joined the rebel army, and boldly styled himself Manuel Ist, King of the Cuban highwaymen. He surrounded himself with a gang of picked ruffians, and became the terror of all the peaceful planters of both parties, from whom he used to levy tribute, and whom he never hesitated to murder, if they refused to submit to his extortions. This abominable personage was killed on February 24th, 1895, by the sacristan of the parish church of Arcos de Canosina.

Last year the rebel army was composed, so far as I have been able to ascertain, very much as follows: 25,000 infantry without transport; 14,000 cavalry, with 13,000 horses and mules; artillery,--22 guns, 190 mules or horses, and about 800 men; the whole regular and irregular army, amounting to about 70,000 men, some 10,000 of whom are absolutely unarmed. During the last two years these numbers have probably been greatly reduced. The duty of the unarmed men consists in going round the field after a battle, and gathering up the arms dropped by the wounded and the dead. Behind this regular army, if so it can be called, is another, consisting of a horde of civilized and uncivilized adventurers, recruited from all parts of the island, and indeed from the four quarters of the globe; among them you will find field hands out of employment, the riffraff turned out of the neighbouring islands, Americans, Mexicans, Germans, Italians, and even a few Englishmen. Yet a third band follows behind this extraordinary ma.s.s of heterogenous humanity,--a mob of ex-slaves, reinforced by coolies, who may be described as camp followers, and bring their women and children with them. This formidable and incessantly moving army is divided into sections, and distributed over various parts of the island, in camps (by courtesy so called, for their tents are exceedingly few in number, and the majority have to sleep in the open, unless they have time and skill to make themselves huts with palm branches). These Cuban rebels, being acclimatized, have a great advantage over the Spaniards in pursuit of them, who, as often as not, are trapped by "Yellow Jack." They are less easily overwhelmed by the deadly miasmas which hang over the desolate places where, for safety's sake, they are compelled to pitch their tents.[11] Still thousands of them do perish, for though the _vomito nigro_ does not attack the blacks, it carries off thousands of whites and coolies, while other loathsome diseases decimate the uncleanly negroes and their coolie brethren.

The wildest imagination can scarcely conceive a more wonderful scene than that presented by an encampment of Cuban rebels in one of the virgin forests which still cover a considerable portion of the island, or else on those level marsh lands, called Manigua, which bear so strong a resemblance to the Roman Campagna.

Only those who have been in a tropical forest can form any idea of what it is like. I remember once being taken by two excellent guides a few hundred yards into one of these jungles. An English forest generally consists of one, or, at the most, four or five varieties of tree--the oak, the pine, the ash, the birch, the beech--with an undergrowth of wild nuts and bramble, and a still lower one of bracken fern and gra.s.s.

In a tropical forest almost every tree and shrub is wholly different from its neighbour.

The first impression made upon me, as I sauntered into this green maze, was one of absolute amazement, not unmingled with a certain sense of terror. The vegetation around me was of such unusual proportions that I felt myself a mere pigmy, a sort of Jack the Giant-Killer wandering in quest of the Ogre's Castle. And indeed the thick growth of tree trunk and palm stems, absolutely leafless for some forty or fifty feet, might easily be mistaken for the dead walls of some enchanted fortress.

Looking up, however, one beheld, instead of blue sky, an aerial canopy of the densest foliage, varying in tint from the deepest to the tenderest green.

These Cuban forests are pathless: to traverse them you must cut or burn your way; their labyrinths remind you at every turn of the opening lines to Dante's _Inferno_:

"Nel mezzo de cammin di nostra vita Mi ritrovai per una selva, oscura Che la diritta via era smarrita."

As you pa.s.s along, clouds of winged creatures rise out of the gra.s.s, some of them infamously unkind and pernicious, others beautiful and harmless. In the openings the most inconceivably lovely flowers bloom, and humming birds flash hither and thither, sparkling like variegated jewels in the few rays of sunshine that penetrate the ma.s.sive canopy of leaves.

Now and again their pa.s.sage is barred by the rope-like branches of some uncanny creeper, that come pouring down from above like the tangled rigging of a wrecked ship. You draw back in alarm, lest the strange thing should suddenly come to life, and turn into a chain of angry serpents. To your surprise you perceive one side of it to be literally blazing with flame-coloured orchids, red and orange. In the centre of yonder little open s.p.a.ce is a dead tree that some huge parasite has seized upon, dragged out of earth and imprisoned in a woody cage, every bar of which is tapestried with the most exquisite orchids. Yonder growth, which reaches far above your knees, consists of the great wheel-shaped maiden-hair fern, whose fronds are so exquisite and so brittle that you feel remorse at trampling so tender and delicate a carpet under foot. Presently you find yourself ascending a rocky eminence, crowned by half a dozen soaring cabbage palms, and thence you plunge into a shrubbery where the exquisite Tabernae-montana, or the resplendent Calycophyllum, fills the hot moist air with an overpowering perfume, recalling that of our homely syringa. On and on you go, through groves of palm trees, tied together by entwined lianas, looking, for all the world, like motionless boa constrictors, and on which countless tiny lizards, or harmless little snakes, glisten in the sunlight. Now and then a flying squirrel flashes past, or a monster bat is disturbed, or you form the acquaintance of an ugly old iguana, who winks at you with a knowing eye, and withdraws, as suddenly as he appeared, behind a trap door of broad glossy leaves. Here are cl.u.s.ters of begonias, there a veritable cataract of morning glory, the deep blue flowers so thickly set together that not a green leaf is to be seen, for many yards. When you least expect it, the wooden walls open, and discover a glimpse of some placid lake, embedded like a jewel in a frame of dark green orange trees laden with golden fruit, and covered with every sort of water lily, varying from the most dazzling white to the deepest crimson and violet. The heat is so great that you feel an irresistible impulse to throw off your clothes and jump into the pellucid water; but your guide, divining your intention, soon makes you alter your mind, a.s.suring you that the bed of the lakelet swarms with uncanny aquatic snakes, while perchance that unpleasant individual, the ugly caiman, lurks in the dark, under yon ma.s.s of arum lilies, ready to pounce upon you, and snap off your leg. Yonder is a turtle scudding along, and round the sh.o.r.es of an islet, covered with delicate bamboo cane, sails a whole fleet of gorgeous water fowl. The impulse to push forward and discover new wonders and beauties for yourself is swiftly checked by your guide, who warns you that, as the sun begins to drop, noxious vapours presently will rise,--vapours charged with deadly fevers and incurable agues. And so you hurry back, thanking heaven, all the time, that you have a guide with you, for without his friendly aid you might wander round and round in this maze of luxuriant vegetation, never straying far from the point whence you started, and sink at last, exhausted, to die of hunger and thirst, with, it may be, a cl.u.s.ter of tempting poison peaches dripping luscious but death-dealing syrup just above your parched lips. In forests such as these, stretching for leagues across the island, do the Cuban rebels pitch their camps.

Through these wild forsaken regions there are neither roads nor paths, and the enemy has concealed the trace of his footsteps with the utmost precaution. Every bush may mask an ambuscade, and behind every rock some danger lurks. Sometimes the Spaniards--to whom experience has taught many things--may mark the exact position of the rebels by the whirl of the vultures, circling high above it, watching the time when, after the camp has broken up, they may make a descent upon the scanty fragments of victuals left behind, or upon the dead bodies of those who have perished of wounds, of starvation, perchance, or of some malignant fever.

Overhead is a brazen black-blue sky, through which the sun darts red-hot rays, or else a black stretch of dense clouds, belching cataracts of water from week's end to week's end, and frequently torn by the most terrific storms of thunder and lightning. The marvel of it is that so many men, and even women, are able to live at all, under such dreadful conditions, more often than not lacking the veriest necessaries of life, and depending for their daily food on their knowledge of the qualities, poisonous or harmless, of the various fruits, berries, and herbs they find about their path. I wonder if it ever occurs to people who talk so glibly of Cuban affairs, over their well-spread tables, that at this very moment there are considerably over a hundred thousand human beings encamped, under these appalling conditions, in various districts of Cuba, not to mention the miserable _reconcentrados_, or men out of employment, whom the towns-people reject, whom the rebel army is not allowed to absorb into its ranks, and who, between the two camps, have been systematically starved to death, especially under the merciless and cruel rule of General Weyler.

In the dry season matters are a trifle better, the fevers diminish, and it is possible to sleep in the open air without serious risk. The insects, too, are a trifle less vicious, and the brilliant moonlit winter's nights are often pleasant enough. Then the bivouac becomes endurable, and if the enemy is sufficiently distant, a certain element of gaiety lends a picturesque, even romantic, character to the barbaric gathering. The negroes tw.a.n.g their banjos, blow their horns, and dance in rings, and the white adventurers gather round the camp fires, to tell old-world stories, or dream, perchance, of their childhood, spent under more temperate skies,--and in their heart of hearts, as their recollection slips back to home, to regret they ever embarked on such pitiful adventures as these. Suddenly the alert is called, the trumpet blows, an order is hoa.r.s.ely shouted, and the motley crowd moves on elsewhere, or is commanded to make a descent on some plantation to demand provisions, and, may be, if the owner does not comply, to fire his sugar canes. Not unfrequently, to screen their flight, they set light to the prairie or to the forest, and the gra.s.s and the trees burn on for days and nights on end. Some of these bands have a chaplain with them--a priest of the sort called in England, before the Reformation, a "hedge-priest"--who, on Sundays and feast days, celebrates Ma.s.s at an improvised altar, in some forest glade. But, on the other hand, the negroes, of whom there are thousands, seem, as a result of the free life they lead, to have reverted, in most cases, by a species of atavism, to their old savage habits.

I have said elsewhere that in the olden days their Cuban masters only gave them a veneer of Christianity; they soon relapse into the obscene and b.l.o.o.d.y creed of Voudism, the traditions of which they have never lost. And in almost every rebel camp there are a number of coolies who, although--to please the Cubans--they prostrate themselves before the images of Neustra Senora de Cobre, and of Our Lady of Guadalupe, secretly practise the lowest forms of Buddhism.

It is now time to turn our attention to an extremely interesting personage, who, in his day, has given the mother country more trouble, probably, than any other of the numerous leaders of the rebellion--the famous Maceo. He was a true son of the revolution, born at Santiago di Cuba in that great year of universal revolt, 1848. He was not, as has been so frequently stated in English newspapers, a gentleman of n.o.ble family. As a matter of fact, he began life as a muleteer. Hence his wonderful knowledge of the Cuban ravines and pa.s.ses, which has been so precious both to his followers and to himself. He never made any pretence of being a "Caballero," but gave himself out for what he was, a blunt man of the people (egregiously vain, let me add, and astonishingly ignorant!). Four years ago the following description of Maceo was written me from Cuba by a friend who knew him well. "This wonderful man, though short of stature, looks the very incarnation of a Spada.s.sin of the good old times of Calderon and Lope, and this notwithstanding his strong evidences of negro blood. True, his features are none too regular, but his complexion is, to say the best of it, swarthy. His eyes are splendid, and he has formidable moustachios, which would have roused the envy of a musketeer. He is scrupulously neat in his dress, and wears his much belaced gold uniform with a gallant air. His broad-brimmed white felt hat sets off his face to advantage. On the whole, he at first impressed me very favourably. Suddenly, however, something annoyed him, and he turned round on one of his men, and burst into a storm of oaths. Then he showed his white teeth, shook with nervous fury, and looked very fierce." For a good many years, Maceo was the hero of the day. Even in the towns, where interest in the rising is apt to flag, people liked to talk of his adventures. He bore the marks of twenty-five wounds,--twenty caused by bullets, and five by sword thrusts. He possessed a quality of ubiquity which at times seemed almost miraculous.

When the Spaniards were perfectly certain that Maceo and his men were in the west, they were tolerably certain to turn up in the east. A dozen times, at least, he was reported killed, but sooner or later he always reappeared, and in a condition altogether too lively for Spanish taste.

Some persons even now believe he was not shot, as reported, on December 9th, 1895. But there can be but little doubt his adventurous career is ended, otherwise he would have certainly reappeared ere this, especially as he is sorely needed, no one having as yet risen up to take his place.

General Gomez and Maceo have been by far the most interesting figures in the Cuban rebellion. In the time to come he will, I feel sure, be the hero of a score of novels, as startling and sensational as any of those of Mayne Reid or Fenimore Cooper.

Far be it from me to disparage the motives of the men who have conducted this revolt against a distinctly vicious and obsolete government. The saddest fact connected with the present struggle is that Spain's punishment has come upon her at a time when she least deserves it, for during the last ten years, though all too late, a great deal has been done for the island by the mother country. In the first place, it is not true that Cubans are not admitted to any official position in the administration of their country. At this present time at least one-half of the Government employes, high and low, are Cubans. There are some scores of Cuban officers in the Spanish army. Cuba is represented at the Cortes by thirteen Senators, and thirty Deputies. The University of Havana is almost entirely in the hands of Cubans; the Rector, Don Joaquim F. Lastres, and the Vice-Rector, are both of them natives of the island. All the Deans are Cubans, and out of eighty Professors, sixty are Spaniards born in the island, _ergo_ Cubans. All the Advocates of the Supreme Court are Cubans, many belonging to families which have resided for generations in the island. Still there is widespread and well-founded discontent. The island is not properly administered.

Everything is in a state of confusion. Red-tapeism--the curse of Spanish bureaucracy--is rampant, and the system of petty backsheesh is almost as universal as in Turkey.

There is much truth, too, in Mr Gossip's statement in his article in the May number of the _Fortnightly Review_, ent.i.tled "The Mournful Case of Cuba," which runs as follows:--

"Spain has placed an almost insuperable barrier in the way of American merchants, should they attempt to enter her ports with American products, in the form of a protective tariff, which resembles in many respects, the policy once pursued by England against her American colonies, of which the 'Boston tea party' was the direct result, has proved very detrimental to American interests. For while the United States purchases, at least, more than seventy per cent. of everything Cuba has to sell, Cuba in return buys from the United States less than twenty per cent. of the articles she imports--chiefly flour, petroleum, and other non-compet.i.tive articles, which Spain is unable to furnish; so that it is to the land of the Stars and Stripes that Cuba must look, since, as long as beets are grown in Europe, the product of the sugar cane will find no market on the European side of the Atlantic. Thus, the mother country pockets annually, through her antiquated inst.i.tutions, the Yankee millions, which, under proper conditions of trade, would be returned to the people of the United States in payment for American coal, iron, and manufactured goods, which are often sent to Spain and then re-shipped to Cuba, as the only practical method of getting into the latter country. Owing to the backwardness of Spanish industries, and the inability of Spain to supply Cuba with the products she requires, the Cubans have to consume Spanish articles of inferior quality, or pay exorbitant prices for foreign goods, owing to the prohibitive duties imposed, which merely place large sums in the Spanish exchequer. Spanish merchants practise a novel fraud by nationalising foreign products for importation into Cuba, and thus the senseless commercial policy of Spain is the cause of inextinguishable discontent.

"It is true, also, that Cuba is within the economic orbit of the United States, and that the commerce of the island is a strong factor in the Cuban problem, inasmuch as it is the active agent of civilization everywhere; and sugar is omnipotent from the purely commercial American point of view. There are certain fixed economic laws, which are as sure in their operation as gravitation, and must inevitably affect the ultimate destiny of Cuba."

I do not think sufficient attention has been paid by students of the Cuban question to facts wholly unconnected with bad government and of a purely economic nature. First and foremost of these is the depreciation in the commercial value of local produce, especially the loss on sugar, which is mainly due to the popularity and cheapness of beetroot sugar on the continent of Europe. Without undue entering into details, I would point out that Cuba is in this respect going through precisely the same financial and commercial crisis as the other and better-governed West Indian Islands. The tobacco trade, I hear, is less flourishing than it used to be. It has to contend with the prodigious development which has recently taken place in the tobacco markets of Asia Minor, Egypt, Europe, and the United States. In a word, Cuba has been doing very badly now for over twenty years, and families which were not very long ago amongst the richest of our period, are now paupers, eager to sell their few remaining jewels, bric-a-brac, and even their fans, lace, and brocades, to the pa.s.sing stranger. To add to the general distress came the completion of the abolition of slavery, with its usual result--the negroes refused to work. Coolies were imported, but the climate did not suit them. White labour has not been tried, for the simple reason that it is a foredoomed failure. Masters who have had to deal with negroes all their lives are never able to manage poor whites. Hundreds of plantations have gone out of cultivation, and thousands of half savage, coloured folk, have gone to swell in the all-pervading anarchy which the Spanish Government is not strong enough to suppress.

Meanwhile the rebellion has absorbed an incredible amount of Spanish capital, and drained the mother country of hundreds of thousands of young men, the great majority of whom will never see their homes again.

Cuba, in her present condition, is Spain's ruin, and it would have been well for the Spaniards if they had sold the island half a century ago.

"Cuba," said a Spanish writer the other day, "is a sort of bottomless waste-paper basket. The women of Cadiz and its neighbourhood hold the very name of Cuba in execration, they have seen so many of their sons and sweethearts depart thither, never to return."

I am not one of those who see an angel in every Cuban rebel, and a devil in every Spaniard; I hold that in this, as in almost every other human concern, the case, to put it vulgarly, is "six to the one, and half a dozen to the other." There are grave faults, nay, crimes, on both sides, and the condition of the island in the present half of the century, and especially during the last five years, is a disgrace to civilization.

When individual Spaniards have tried to do their best for the Cubans, their good intentions have not received much response from their superiors. Take, for instance, Martinez Campos, who was sent out to the island some years back as Commander-in-Chief; he was an honourable and humane man, desirous of doing the best he could to reduce bitterness and evolve peace. But his efforts were frequently baulked by the home Government, which was for ever pressing him to take active measures. He knew the island, having been there twenty years before, and under exceptional circ.u.mstances, but he was powerless to plant the olive branch he had brought with him from Spain, whence he had started amidst the most enthusiastic expectations, and to which he returned, not unlike the proverbial rocket that went up in a blaze of glory, to fall a flat, burnt stick. I cannot forbear thinking that the gravest mistake of the Spanish Government in the whole of this Cuban business was its peremptory recall of Martinez Campos, and, above all, the despatch of such a man as General Weyler, with the strictest orders to put the rebellion down at any cost.