Chapter 3 No.3

A Brief History of the Island.

IT was on the morning of Friday, 12th October 1492, that Christopher Columbus first saw the New World rising on the ocean horizon. The ardently prayed-for land proved to be an island, called by the natives Guanahanè, and by the explorer baptized San Salvador, but known to us now as the chief of the Bahamas group. After making friends with the gentle natives, and taking in supplies of food and water, Columbus, though at some loss as to which way he should direct his course, set sail once more. Such a multitude of islands lay before him, large and small, "green, level, and fertile," that he grew fairly confused as to which way to turn. He fancied he was sailing in the Archipelago, described by Marco Polo as studding the seas which washed the shores of Chin, or China, a great, great distance from the mainland. These, the Venetian traveller had declared, numbered some 7000 or 8000-rich in gold, silver, drugs, spices, and many other precious objects of commerce. Night obscured the delightful vision, and the verdure-clad islands faded into the tropical darkness. The next morning Columbus landed on a pretty islet, the inhabitants of which greeted him in the most friendly manner, and to which he gave the name of Santa Maria de la Concepcion. But the extreme simplicity of their costume-they were clad in all their native innocence-and the absence of all signs of wealth, led the Discoverer to think that perhaps, after all, he was still far from that part of the world mentioned by the imaginative Marco. Next, he landed on a beautiful island, now known as Exuma, to which he gave the name of Fernandina, in honour of His Most Christian Majesty. Here the ladies betrayed more native modesty, for, he gravely assures us, "they wore mantles made of feathers, and cotton aprons." He had disembarked in a noble harbour, bordered by shady groves, "as fresh and green as in the month of May in Andalusia." The trees, the fruits, the herbs, the flowers, the very stones, were, for the most part, as different from those of Spain as day is to night.

On 19th October he left Fernandina, steering towards another island, called Saometo, where, as he gathered from the natives, he was to find rich mines of gold, and a monarch who held sway over all the surrounding lands. This potentate was said to dwell in a mighty city, and to wear garments studded with gold and gems. He reached the island in due time, but neither monarch nor mine found he. It was a delightful spot, however, blessed with deep lakes of fresh water, and with such swarms of singing-birds that the explorer felt, so he declared, that he could "never desire to depart thence. There are flocks of parrots which obscure the sun, and other brilliant birds of so many kinds and sizes, and all different from ours, that it is wonderful, and besides, there are trees of a thousand sorts, each having its particular fruit, and of marvellous flavour." To this enchanting island he gave the name of Isabella, after his royal patroness.

Whilst the Discoverer was seeking for healing herbs, and "delighting in the fragrance of sweet and dainty flowers," and, moreover, "believing that here were many herbs which would be of great price in Spain for tinctures and medicines," his followers were clamouring to the natives concerning the whereabouts of mines of gold and silver, which, we need hardly say, existed only in their ardent, greedy, and deluded imaginations. Whether Columbus and his companions mistook the natives' signs or not, certain it is that, for several days, he was once more convinced he was in the neighbourhood of the islands of which Marco Polo had written. The capital of this archipelago was supposed to be a city called Quinsai, and there Columbus intended personally to deliver the letter of the Castilian sovereigns to the mysterious Khan. With his mind full of such airy castles, he set sail from Isabella on the 24th October, steering, haphazard, west-south-west. After three days' navigation, in the course of which he touched at a group of small islands, which he christened Islas de Arena, now supposed to be the Mucacas, he crossed the Bahama Bank, and hove in sight of Cuba. Lost in contemplation of the size and grandeur of the new island, its high soaring mountains, which, he tells us, reminded him of those of Sicily, its fertile valleys, its long, sweeping, and well-watered plains; its stately forests, its bold promontories and headlands melting away into the softest distance, he once more concluded that this, at last, must be the enchanted country of the Venetian explorer. Landing, he took possession in the name of Christ, Our Lady, and the Sovereigns of Spain, and christened the new country Juana, in honour of the Infanta Do?a Juana. The land on which he set foot is believed to have been just to the west of Nuevitas del Principe, the seaport of the city of Puerto Principe. The objects which first arrested his attention were a couple of huts, from which the inmates had fled. Their interiors boasted no evidences of civilization or wealth. Their sole contents were a few fishing-nets, hooks, harpoons of bone, and a queer sort of dog (the breed, alas, is now extinct, I fear!), "which never barks." With the humane consideration which distinguished the illustrious Italian, though his Spanish followers can never be said to have followed his good example, Columbus ordered that nothing should be touched or disturbed in the two cabins. There was a certain foresight, too, about the order; it was more advantageous to pose as a demi-god than to run the risk of being taken for a thief.[7]

The scenery of Cuba is described by Columbus in his usual glowing language. Then, as now, it was a marvel of tropical beauty. He was specially impressed by the vivid splendour of the jewelled humming-birds, which hovered around the innumerable and gorgeous blossoms clustering every bough. The smaller species of fireflies he had frequently seen in Italy, but the luccioli of the Old World were as sparks to lamps beside the meteor-like creatures which, even on the brightest nights, made a flickering radiance in the Cuban forests. In a word, Cuba broke upon him like an Elysium. "It is the most beautiful island that eye of man ever beheld, full of excellent woods and deep flowing rivers." He was utterly convinced, now, he had reached Cipango, that wonderful spot which, according to Marco Polo, possessed mountains of gold, and a shore the sands of which were strewn with oriental pearls. A worthy native further deluded the already over-credulous Discoverer by inducing him to believe that the centre of the island, at a place called Cubanacan, literally glittered with gold. Now Cubanacan is uncommonly like Cublia-Khan, the name of the Tartar sovereign mentioned by Polo, and this confusion of names probably led Columbus and his companions to the conviction that Cuba was not an island, but part of the main continent.

Suddenly, one day, the weather changed; the sky, hitherto as blue as a turquoise, grew dark and heavy, torrents of rain began to fall, and Columbus was obliged to relinquish all further pursuit of adventure in the heart of the island, and to confine his operations to the coast.

There is nothing more pathetic in the "Journal" of Columbus than those passages which deal with the discovery of Cuba. Illusion after illusion fades away. To-day there are reports of gold and silver mines; to-morrow someone has heard of cinnamon and nutmeg trees, and even of the humble rhubarb, but, on examination, gold and silver, cinnamon, nutmeg, and rhubarb, all prove delusions. The Spaniards showed the natives pearls, at which they merely smiled,-to them they were naught but pretty white beads. Gold did not impress them as being of any particular value or beauty; and they were understood to say that, in the more distant parts of the country, the people wore ornaments made of that precious metal about their necks, arms, and ankles. Then came an old native who announced that further on dwelt men who had but one eye, and that below their shoulders; others who had dogs' heads; and others, again, who were vampires, and sucked their prisoners' blood until they died of exhaustion, and thereby confirmed Othello's account of his adventures-

"In lands where dwell cannibals that each other eat,

The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads

Do grow beneath their shoulders."

Everything, in a word, was new and wonderful, and everything tended to make the Discoverer think he was approaching that object of his dreams, "the city of the Khan."

In November he was still wandering down the coast of the magnificent island, which he believed to be part of the Continent,-an error in which he continued until his death. Yet, had he but sailed three days further, he would have touched the main coast of Florida. Certain writers assert that he landed in British Honduras, without, however, realizing that, by so doing, he had discovered the real Continent of America.

Here we must take our leave of the illustrious Discoverer and his adventures. If I have dwelt so long upon them, it has been simply in order to impress my readers with the fact that, when Columbus reached Cuba, he discovered a country, the inhabitants of which were evidently at peace among themselves and their neighbours. Yet, almost from the day of his arrival to the present time, the unhappy island has been stained by incessant tragedy. The illustrious Italian firmly believed he had brought a blessing to the natives. His arrival, alas! only signified the beginning of their extermination.

The early inhabitants, not only of Cuba, but of all the other islands, were certainly of common origin, spoke the same language, practised the same customs, and held similar superstitions. They bore a distinct resemblance to certain tribes of Indians on the main Continent, to the Arrowauk in particular. They were well made, of dark brown complexion, with goodly features and long straight hair. They went by the generic name of Charaibes or Caribees. Several distinct tribes may have existed, but the evidence is that they were all of one family, which had in all probability swarmed out of the great hive of the Mexican empire. Juan de Grijalva, a Spanish navigator, declared, in 1518, that he found a people on the coast of Yucatan who spoke the same language as the natives of the island. According to Las Casas, and to Peter Martyr, who wrote on the authority of Columbus himself, there were about 1,200,000 souls in Cuba at the time of its discovery. This was possibly the result of some rough calculation made upon the large number of people noticed as living upon the immediate sea-board. It is certain that not Cuba only, but all the neighbouring islands, were thickly populated at the time of their discovery, and also that the aborigines were exceedingly gentle in character. They almost invariably received the European adventurers as beings of a superior order, who had alighted from some spirit world, evidently with the intention of doing them good-a conviction strengthened by the graceful courtesy which still distinguishes their descendants in Spain and Italy. This conviction was, ere long, to be cruelly shaken! The islanders, in spite of many virtues, had a moral code of the loosest description, and, if we may believe Ovando, Europe owes them its first acquaintance with one of the most terrible penalties exacted by Nature from the too fervent worshipper of Venus. Labour and cultivation appear to have been little practised by the Caribbees, who found the great fertility of their country sufficient to enable them to lead a life of delightful indolence. Their fashions never changed-since they had none to change-and their wives' milliner's bills troubled them not. They spent their time in athletic exercises, in dancing, hunting, fishing, and in fact, according to contemporary Spanish evidence, the aboriginal Cubans would seem to have discovered the real secret of life, and to have been far more philosophical than their restless and over-ambitious conquerors.

They treated their elders with respect, and their wives with affection; and they were untainted with cannibalism and other objectionable savage practices. The discovery of fragments of ancient pottery, by no means inartistically designed, and other objects indicating a higher civilization than that for which Columbus gave them credit, would lead one to believe that the natives were not devoid of a certain degree of culture. Contemporary testimony is almost universally in favour of their firm belief in the existence of a personal Deity, who had power to reward merit and punish vice, a heaven and a hell. Columbus, according to his own account, seems, between the years 1492-4, to have acquired sufficient knowledge of the Indian language to understand a good deal of what was said to him. He had taken two Indians back with him to Spain, and had studied assiduously with them. However that may be, he declares that on one occasion, in July 1494, during his second visit, an aged Cuban made him the following speech as he presented him with a basket of fruit and flowers: "Whether you are a divinity," said he, "or a mortal man, we know not. You come into these countries with a force which we should be mad to resist, even if we were so inclined. We are all, therefore, at your mercy; but if you and your followers are men like ourselves, subject to mortality, you cannot be unapprised that after this life there is another, wherein a very different portion is allotted to good and bad men. And if you believe you will be rewarded in a future state, you will do us no harm, for we intend none to you."

The fairy-like opening of the dramatic history of Cuba, with all the quaint descriptions of its Eden-like beauty bequeathed to us in its Discoverer's Journal, was soon to degenerate into a horrible tragedy. Not a generation elapsed before the Spaniards were deep in the very tactics which have been disgracing their behaviour in Cuba during this last decade. In the most wanton, senseless, and barbarous fashion, they fell on the wretched natives, with no other object than that of extirpating them, so as to usurp their possessions. They even went so far as to assure the poor wretches that if they would embark with them on their ships they would take them to certain islands where their ancestors resided, and where they would enjoy a state of bliss of which they had no conception. The simple souls listened with wondrous credulity, and, eager to visit their friends in the happy region described, followed the Spaniards with the utmost docility. By these damnable devices over 40,000 human beings were decoyed from their homes and ruthlessly slaughtered. Las Casas and Peter Martyr relate tales by the dozen concerning the frightful cruelty of the men whom they had the misfortune to accompany to the New World. Martyr tells us that some Spaniards made a vow to hang or burn thirteen natives in honour of the Saviour and the Twelve Apostles every morning. Certain monsters, more zealous than the rest, drove their captives into the water, and after forcibly administering the rite of baptism, cut their throats to prevent their apostacy. But I will not harrow the reader with further accounts of the astounding cruelty shown by the Spanish conquerors of Cuba. I will simply repeat with their own historian, Martyr, "that in the whole history of the world such enormities have never before been practised." If any further testimony were needed, we have that of the venerable Las Casas. Even Oviado, who strives to palliate his countrymen's barbarities, confesses that in 1535, only forty-three years after the discovery of the West Indies, and when he himself was on the spot, there were not above 500 of the original natives left alive in the island of Hispaniola.[8]

This wholesale massacre may have been carried out with a view to ensuring the complete Spanish repopulation of the islands. The destruction of the natives naturally led, in course of time, to the importation, on a very large scale, of negro slavery, and the unnatural trade continued until its final abolition, which took place some twelve years ago. Traces of Indian blood are still evident amongst the inhabitants of the wild regions in the eastern part of Cuba, who boast indeed that they are the "Caribbees." The women are especially beautiful, and remarkable for the extraordinary length of their hair, which sometimes touches the ground. A female attendant in the house of a planter whom I visited in this part of the island some years ago, was, I was assured, of undoubted Caribbean descent. She was rather tall, copper-coloured, and her hair, when she let it fall loose, nearly reached her ankles, perfectly straight, and intensely black. She was not a slave, and was treated with respect and kindness by her employers.

Although Columbus revisited the island three times before he returned to Spain, to rest his weary bones in that peace his enemies so persistently denied him, he died, as I have said, in the full conviction that it formed part of the Asiatic continent, and it was not until 1508 that, at the command of Nicola Ovanda, a certain Captain Sebastian circumnavigated the island, and established the undoubted fact of its being completely surrounded by water. In 1511, Columbus' son Diego, then Governor of Hispaniola, otherwise Hayti, sent Diego Velasquez to Cuba, with full authority to colonize it. This process he performed by parcelling out the island among his followers and reducing the natives to slavery. The poor creatures, never having been accustomed to hard work, rebelled, and were forthwith mercilessly exterminated. Velasquez founded many towns, among them Baracoa, Bayamo, Trinidad, Puerto Principe, Santiago de Cuba (in 1515), and San Christobal de Habana (Havana) (in 1519), this last city not exactly in its present position.

More interesting by far than Velasquez was his lieutenant, Hernando Cortez, eventually to be known as the intrepid explorer of Mexico. The lustre of his career in Cuba was stained, however, by his ferocious treatment of the aborigines, whom he condemned to work in his newly discovered copper mines, and tortured to death because they refused to obey their taskmaster. His love affairs, on the other hand, were romantic, and are still enshrined in the legendary history of the island. His great, if cruel, name figures in many a folk-lore tale, but no allusion is ever made to his subsequent adventures on the main continent. Velasquez, too, is not forgotten. His Governorship had evidently many features of excellence, and if he bears the shame of having introduced the curse of negro slavery, he must be given credit for having planted the first sugar cane in his fair domain.

After his death, in 1524, the history of Cuba is a blank until the year 1538, when Hernando de Soto landed in the island, and fitted out, in the harbour of Santiago, the celebrated but unfortunate expedition to Florida, by means of which he hoped to annex that country to the Spanish territory. The undertaking, one of vast importance to the future welfare of the New World, was disastrous in many ways. The flower of the Spanish colonists perished in numerous battles with the natives, Cuba was drained of her European population, and the progress of the island lamentably retarded. Meanwhile, the venerable Las Casas had settled himself in Havana, and started many wise reforms. Thanks to him, the future enslavement of the natives was rendered impossible. The benevolent law, unfortunately, came all too late-the great majority had already perished. Las Casas built several charitable institutions and hospitals in various parts of the island, notably at Havana and Santiago, and obtained for Havana the grant of civic rights, as capital of the island. For a few years Cuba enjoyed a measure of peace and prosperity, interrupted by fierce occasional raids by French, Dutch, and English buccaneers and pirates.

The great Buccaneering period in West Indian history, from the second quarter of the sixteenth century till the end of the seventeenth, is one of the most romantic and exciting that can be conceived. This celebrated association of piratical adventurers maintained itself in the Caribbean seas for over a century, by dint of audacity, bravery, and shrewdness. It was organized for a systematic series of reprisals on the Spaniards; but in the course of time all sense of honour disappeared, and its members indulged in indiscriminate piracy. Its name, singular to relate, is derived from the Caribbee word bucan, a term for preserved meat, smoked dry in a peculiar manner. From this the French adventurers formed the verb bucaner and the noun bucanier, which was eventually adopted, oddly enough, by the English, whereas the French preferred the word filibustier, a possible corruption of our "freebooter," still used to designate a certain portion of the Cuban rebels. The real motive for the existence of the buccaneers was the universal detestation in which Spain was held in the West Indian Archipelago. The Spanish assumption of a divine right to half of the New World, in accordance with the grant bestowed on them by Pope Alexander VI., and traced in his own hand on the famous Borgian map, and the diabolical cruelties practised by them upon all foreign interlopers who chanced to fall into their hands, led to an association for mutual defence among all adventurers of other nations, whom the reports of its fabulous wealth had attracted to this part of the New World. Their policy was war to the death against all Spaniards. Their code was of the simplest. They lived in community: locks and bars were proscribed as an insult to their honesty. Each buccaneer had his comrade, who stood by him when alive, and succeeded to his property at his death. Their centre of operations was the island of Tortuga, near San Domingo, where, when not hunting the Spaniards or being hunted by them in return, they enjoyed peace of a kind. Their life was wild and terrible, and their history teems with cruelty and bloodshed, but the lurid page is lighted here and there by tales of romantic adventure, chivalrous valour, and brilliant generalship. Cupid, too, occasionally lent his aid to soften the rugged asperities of the buccaneer's career. Who has not heard how Peter of Dieppe fell in love with, and carried off, the daughter of the Governor of Havana? and of how Van Horn lost his life in saving his daughter's honour? Pre-eminent amongst such names as L'Olonnais, Michael de Busco, Bartholomeo de Portuguez, and Mansvelt, stands forth that of Henry Morgan, the Welshman, who organised fleets and armies, besieged rich cities, reduced strong fortresses, displayed throughout his long career an absolute genius for command, was finally knighted by Charles II., and ended his wild and spirited career as Deputy-Governor of Jamaica, a somewhat tame conclusion! Had he loved gold less, and power more, he might have died Emperor of the West Indies, but he was content to retire into comparative obscurity with his enormous fortune, after having made the western hemisphere, from Jamaica to Rio, ring with his name and fame. The buccaneers were then, as we see, a thoroughly well organised association of sea-banditti, consisting mainly of English, French, and Dutch adventurers, who harassed the coast of Cuba for over a century, and finally, with the connivance of their respective Governments, laid hands on Jamaica, Hayti, and others of the islands. In 1528 they even ventured to attack Havana, set the town on fire, and reduce it to ashes. There were no fortifications to repel them then, and the straw and wooden buildings burnt merrily. When the buccaneers evacuated the ruins, Hernando de Soto, the future discoverer of the Mississippi, hastened from Santiago, where he was residing, and set himself to work to rebuild the city in its present position, and surround it by well-designed and constructed fortresses. So great was the terror inspired by the buccaneers, that special laws were enacted in Cuba to protect the seaports from their predatory attacks. People were ordered to keep within their doors after certain hours of the night. Every man was commanded to wear his sword, not only by day, but by night, and it was death to assist any buccaneer who attempted to escape, after falling into the hands of the Spaniards. In 1556, Jacob Sores, a famous pirate, whose much-dreaded name was used by the Cuban women to frighten their unruly children, again attacked Havana, reduced the fortress, and sacked the church and city. Terrible stories are told of the outrages and murders which he committed, and of his hair-breadth escape from being captured, which he owed to a Spanish lady who had fallen desperately in love with him. After the departure of Sores and his gang, Havana and the other growing cities of the island were fortified afresh, so that when Drake arrived in 1555, he thought twice before attacking the capital, and sailed away without firing a shot. In 1589 Philip II. built two castles, the Morro and Los tres Reyes (The Three Kings), designed by Giovanni Batista Antonelli, an Italian architect in his employ. These exist to this day, though, of course, greatly modified, especially of late years, by being adapted to modern purposes of warfare. Havana now had become too strong for the buccaneers, and although they frequently threatened it, they dared not venture near enough to do much harm. The town repulsed the persistent attack of the Dutch Admiral, Jolls, who menaced it from August to September 1628.

During the seventeenth century, Havana and the other large towns of Cuba were greatly extended, surrounded by walls (portions of which, as well as the picturesque old gates, were recently standing), and soon became renowned throughout the West Indies for their wealth and luxury. The long series of Spanish Governors, or Captains-General, as they were and are still called, made a point of importing splendid equipages, plate, china, and even pictures by the great Spanish masters. When His Excellency went abroad, it was in a gilded coach, not unlike that of our Lord Mayor, drawn by twelve mules, caparisoned in yellow, red, and gold, the national colours of the kingdom. A host of slaves of every tint, wearing gorgeous liveries, followed, some on horseback, others running by the side of the sumptuous vehicle. Trumpeters preceded, and men in armour closed the procession. His Excellency's consort, who had to enact the part of Vice-Queen, was instructed, before leaving Madrid, in all the formidable etiquette of the Spanish court. Those members of noble Spanish families who had established themselves, at an early period, in the colony, continued to bear their titles, and formed an aristocracy which held aloof from the untitled planters, and attended the court of the Governor with all the state it could possibly assume. These magnates, likewise, went abroad in gilded coaches, drawn by four, six, and even eight richly caparisoned mules, and had their trains of gaily liveried slaves. Horses were at one time scarce in the island, but before the end of the seventeenth century they were numerous enough, and the volante, a picturesque carriage, evidently a modification of a similar vehicle then in use in the Peninsula, made its first appearance. Another feature of those days, which has long since disappeared, was the state barges which served to convey the rich and highly-born across the harbour, and which, if I may rely on a contemporary engraving now before me, were richly carved and gilded, and rowed by as many as twenty oarsmen in gaudy costumes. In another print, dated 1670, representing the market-place at Havana, a number of ladies are seen wearing the old Spanish costume, farthingale and mantilla au grand complet, as we see them in the pictures of Velasquez, and attended by slaves carrying China silk parasols with deep fringes, to shield their mistresses from the sun. In one corner a slave is being sold, while in another a sacred image is carried in procession by a number of friars. Half-naked negroes are running about hawking bananas, oranges, and pineapples. To the left of the market-place is a church, now no longer in existence, which must, I presume, have been that of San Domingo, annexed to which were the prisons of the Holy Office, which undesirable institution was established early in the 16th century, soon after the foundation of the colony. It worked in Cuba with as much fierce cruelty as in all the other Spanish dominions, and autos da fé of heretics and heathens were a frequent form of entertainment. Early, too, in the 17th century, a good-sized theatre, where the plays of Calderon and Lope de Vaga were doubtless performed, was opened in Havana. In Holy Week, autos, or sacred dramas, were given in the open, "weather permitting." In a word, Havanese life, in those far-off times, was a reflection of life in Spain as it has been depicted by Cervantes and Lesage, and the Countess d'Aulnoy.

Very soon after the Conquest, the Church obtained large grants of valuable property, and down to the first quarter of the present century a good fifth of the island was Church property. Most of the great religious orders were represented-including the Benedictines and the Carthusians. The Franciscan and Dominican friars had a number of priories in various parts of the island, and were much esteemed by the people, whom they steadily befriended. To their credit, be it recorded, the Dominican friars occupied themselves a great deal with the condition of the slaves, obtained the freedom of many, and redressed the wrongs of thousands. The Jesuits made their first appearance very soon after the creation of their celebrated order. They established themselves in Havana, Santiago, Matanzas, and Puerto Principe, where they opened Colleges for the education of the sons of the upper classes. There were also many nunneries, peopled generally by sisters from Europe, who educated the daughters of the wealthy, and gave primary instruction to the children of the people. As is usually the case in Catholic countries, numbers of churches were built, some of them of considerable architectural pretensions, in the well-known Hispano-American style, of which many excellent examples are still extant, not only in Havana, but throughout the whole of South America. Some of the more popular shrines, like that of Neustra Se?ora de Cobre, the Lourdes of Cuba, were, and are still, rich in ex votos, in gold, silver, and even jewels.

The Holy Week ceremonies still remain rather crude reproductions of those which annually attract so many hundreds of visitors to Seville. But notwithstanding the existence of many learned and estimable prelates and priests, the general character of the clergy in Cuba has been indifferent, and I am afraid the Cubans have ever held the gorgeous ceremonies of their Church in greater affection than her moral teachings.

Up till 1788, the Cuban Church was ruled by a single bishop, but in that year it was divided into two dioceses, each covering about one half of the island. In 1804, Santiago, the eastern diocese, was raised to the dignity of an archbishopric. The other, which contains the city of Havana, still remains a bishopric.

The European revolutions of the end of the last and the beginning of the present centuries had their effect on Cuba, and a great number of monasteries and convents were closed, their inmates scattered, and their property confiscated.

Unfortunately, the Inquisition, which had been implanted at an early period everywhere in the Spanish colonies, with the object of compelling the aborigines and the imported slaves to embrace Catholicism, was used as a means of overawing refractory colonists, who were soon made aware that either open or covert disapprobation of the proceedings of their rulers was the most deadly of all heresies. From the middle of the 17th century until the close of the 18th, the annals of the Havanese Inquisition contain endless charges of heresy against native-born Spaniards-charges which were in reality merely expressions of political displeasure, and had nothing whatever to do with religion.

The palace of the Holy Office and its prisons, which stood close to the Church of San Domingo, were destroyed many years ago, and are now replaced by the old market-place of Cristina, once the scene of an unusual number of autos da fé-a favourite form of religious entertainment in South America, it would appear, for in a curious old book, dated 1683, which I picked up in Havana for a few pence, the author complains of the dull times, "nobody, not even a negro, having been burnt alive for nearly six months." A Havanese auto da fé, in the palmy days of Spanish supremacy, must have been quite a pretty sight, including, as it did, an allegorical procession to the place of execution, with children dressed in white as angels, and little nigger boys as devils, tails and horns complete, dancing before the condemned, who, of course, wore the traditional san benito, a sort of high mitre and shirt, embellished with demoniacal representations of Satan and his imps, capering amid flames and forked lightning. Then came the Governor and his court, the civil and military officials, the clergy, the monks, and the friars singing the seven penitential psalms-in a word, everything "muy grandiose y espectacolos."

The early years of the 18th century were exceedingly prosperous for Cuba. The buccaneers and pirates had almost entirely ceased from troubling. The sugar trade was at its zenith, and although the Spanish administration was vile, the governors rapacious, and the taxation preposterous, colossal fortunes were made by the Cuban planters, and the name of the island was synonymous with the idea of wealth and riotous living. The Havanese carnival was almost as brilliant in its way as that of Venice, and public and private gambling was tolerated on a scale which attracted adventurers from all parts of the southern hemisphere. Those were halcyon days, disturbed in 1762 by the rather unexpected appearance, in the port of Havana, of an English war squadron of 32 sail, with 170 transports, bearing a considerable body of troops under the command of his Grace of Albemarle and Sir George Picknell. This formidable armament, altogether the largest America had yet seen, laid siege to the city, which surrendered after an heroic defence of two months' duration. The British troops were landed and marched on Guanacaboa, from the heights of which place they fired down upon Morro Castle and the city proper. The Spaniards made a fatal mistake-blocking up the harbour by sinking two vessels at its mouth. This they did to exclude the English and prevent the destruction of the Spanish fleet. But though they did shut out the English they also imprisoned themselves, and the enemy, seeing it was impossible for the Dons to escape, even if they would, directed their whole attention to their land attack. After a gallant struggle, the Spaniards, who numbered some 27,600 men, surrendered, and were permitted to march out of the city with the honours of war, the spoil divided by the British amounting to ￡736,000. The English troops next took Matanzas, and remained in possession of this portion of the island of Cuba for nine months, when, by the Treaty of Paris, it was restored to Spain, in exchange for Florida. During the British occupation the trade of the country was greatly improved by the importation of slaves from other British possessions and by the newcomers' superior knowledge of agriculture; so that the invasion proved, on the whole, a distinct benefit to the country, opening out a new era of prosperity for the Spaniards and other colonists. It has been said, indeed, that the real prosperity of the islands dates from our occupation, which ended July 18, 1763.

About 1765 there was a remarkable emigration of Frenchmen, partly from Martinique and partly from the mother-country into Cuba. The new colonists brought improved agricultural implements, and not a few of them opened shops in the chief cities, and did a large trade in French goods. Some French missionaries also arrived about the same time. These were mostly Jesuits, who, when they had acquired the language, began to preach practical sermons, which were greatly relished by the inhabitants. The French introduced apiculture, a branch of industry which has flourished ever since, and which has enabled the Cubans to supply the neighbouring islands with wax candles at a much cheaper rate than those hitherto imported from Europe. It is curious to notice, in some of the old log-books still preserved, the numerous entries as to the importation of wax candles made at Havana, to Jamaica, Trinidad, and Nassau. In the log-book of the ship "Royal George," which was in the harbour of Havana on 16th June 1810, I find this entry-"Sent two men over to the town to purchase wax candles, which are very well made in this city, and also 20 bars of French bees-wax, and some soap for friends of mine in the Bahamas."

In 1763, France having ceded Luisiana to Spain, Don Antonio Alloa sailed for New Orleans, to take possession in the name of Their Catholic Majesties. He was so ill received as to be obliged to return forthwith to Havana, where Marshall O'Reilly, an exile of Irish origin, organized an expedition to Luisiana, and seized the capital, which, however, was not held for very long.

A very interesting incident took place in 1776. The United States were struggling for their independence, when their first embassy, headed by the famous Benjamin Franklin, arrived in Paris in the spring of that year, and solicited authorization from Louis XVI. to proceed to Madrid, to implore Don Carlos III. to grant them the aid and protection of Spain. Two members of the embassy, Messrs Arthur and Charles Lee, were allowed to present themselves at court, and the king accorded them a most gracious reception, and cordially promised them his support. His Majesty permitted Mr John Jay, a prominent representative of the American Congress, to remain in Madrid to continue negotiations, which resulted in Spain's affording the Americans truly practical assistance in the shape of money and men, the Spanish Minister for the Interior, Conde de Florida-Blanca, making them several grants of money out of the treasury. Permission was also given them to raise a corps of Spanish volunteers, who proceeded to Cuba, where they were reinforced by Cubans, and embarked thence for the States. These services were rewarded by the Americans with expressions of unbounded gratitude. "The people of America can never forget the immense benefit they have received from King Carlos III.," said Washington, and a few years later, in 1780, a messenger was sent from Congress to the Spanish King, carrying with him an illuminated address of thanks and a new bill for ￡100,000, which they begged him to accept, "in the name of an everlastingly grateful people." But even in those days there were doubts cast upon the "lasting gratitude" of the American people. The Conde d'Aranda, the Ambassador at Paris, wrote a letter to Florida-Blanca containing these significant words:-"This American Republic was born a dwarf, but one day she will become a giant. She will then forget the blessings she received from France and Spain, and only think of her own aggrandisement."

The administration of Don Luis Las Casas, who arrived as Captain-General in 1790, was one of the most brilliant epochs of Cuban history. With indefatigable industry he promoted a number of public works of the first importance, introduced the culture of indigo, extended the commercial importance of the island by removing, as far as his authority permitted, the trammels imposed upon it by the old system of ecclesiastical and aristocratic privileges, and has left a glorious name in the long list of Captains-General, only equalled by that of Tacon in our own century.

The great French Revolution produced a prodigious impression throughout the whole of the West Indies. In many of the neighbouring islands, especially in Jamaica and San Domingo, the negroes revolted, and the action of Toussaint L'Ouverture, who had started as a Royalist, but who, on the emancipation of the slaves in 1794, went over to the Republic, was a subject of common talk in Havana, where the Spaniards had great difficulty in suppressing a popular rising on the part of the Cubans, who were already heartily disgusted with their maladministration. On many of the plantations the more intelligent negroes, discovering that a decree for the emancipation of slavery had been passed in the French colonies, clamoured in vain for a like act of grace from the Spanish Government, and finally rebelled, escaping into the woods, where they formed themselves into bands, which soon became a dangerous nuisance, and were ruthlessly suppressed by the cruel methods which have ever characterised Spanish rule. Throughout the last quarter of the 18th century the Cubans, as distinguished from the Spanish, manifested a strong desire to free themselves from the oppression of the mother-country, and not a few ardent spirits were made to feel the power of the Holy Office, their patriotism being skilfully interpreted as heresy, and punished accordingly. I think I am correct in considering the year 1766 as the date of the commencement of the Cuban Independence movement, which has lately culminated in a breach of the prolonged peace of two continents. But this is a subject which will require another chapter, and this brief history of Cuba must close, for the present, on the threshold of the century which has only two more years to run-years destined, in all probability, to witness the opening of a new era, one, let us hope, of peace and prosperity for the Pearl of the Antilles.