COLOMBUS

The picture of Columbus which has been engraved for this work and which here appears is that known as the Janez portrait, which is generally accepted in Spain as the most faithful presentment of the features of the great Discoverer.

THE
HISTORY OF CUBA

BY
WILLIS FLETCHER JOHNSON
A.M., L.H.D.
Author of "A Century of Expansion," "Four Centuries of
the Panama Canal," "America's Foreign Relations"
Honorary Professor of the History of American Foreign
Relations in New York University
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS
VOLUME ONE

NEW YORK
B. F. BUCK & COMPANY, INC.
156 Fifth Avenue
1920

Copyright, 1920,
By CENTURY HISTORY CO.

All rights reserved
Entered at Stationers Hall
LONDON, ENGLAND.
PRINTED IN U. S. A.

———
THE REPUBLIC OF CUBA

CONCEIVED BY
JOSE MARTI

ESTABLISHED BY
THOMAS ESTRADA PALMA

VINDICATED BY
MARIO G. MENOCAL

———

PREFACE

It is my purpose in these volumes to write a History of Cuba. The title may imply either the land and its natural conditions, or the people and the nation which inhabit it. It in fact implies both, and to both I shall address myself, though it will appropriately be with the latter rather than with the former that the narrative will be most concerned. For it is with Cuba as with other countries: In the last supreme analysis the people make the history of the land. Apart from the people, it is true, the Island of Cuba is of unusual interest. There are few countries of similar extent comparable with it in native variety, charm and wealth. There are few which contribute more, actually and potentially, to the world's supplies of greatly used products. One of the most universally used and prized vegetable products became first known to mankind from Cuba, and there to this day is most profusely and most perfectly grown and prepared; while another, one of the most universally used and essential articles of food, is there produced in its greatest abundance. There also may be found an immense number and bewildering variety of the most serviceable articles in both the vegetable and mineral kingdoms, in noteworthy profusion and perfection, together with possibilities and facilities for a comparable development of the animal kingdom.

Nor is the geographical situation of the island less favorable or less inviting than its natural resources. Lying just within the Torrid Zone, it has a climate which combines the fecund influences of the tropics with the agreeable moderation of the Temperate Zones. It fronts at once upon the most frequented ocean of the globe and upon two of the greatest and most important semi-inland seas. It lies directly between the two great continents of the Western Hemisphere, with such supremely fortunate orientation that travel and commerce between them naturally skirt and touch its shores rather than follow the longer and more difficult route by land which is the sole alternative. A line drawn from the heart of the United States to the heart of South America passes through the heart of Cuba. A line drawn from the mouth of the Mississippi to the mouth of the Amazon traverses Cuba almost from end to end. Circled about the island and fronting on the narrow seas which divide them from it are the territories of no fewer than fourteen independent national sovereignties. It lies, moreover, directly in the path of the world's commerce between the two great oceans, the Atlantic and the Pacific, by the way of that gigantic artificial waterway which, created largely because of Cuba, was the fulfilment of the world's four centuries of effort and desire. There is scarcely a more suggestive and romantic theme in the world's history than this: That Columbus made his epochal adventure for the prime purpose of finding a passageway from the Atlantic to the Pacific; or rather from Europe to Asia by way of the Atlantic, since he assumed the Atlantic and the Pacific to be one; that, failing to find that non-existent passageway, he found Cuba instead and imagined that he had found therein the fulfilment of his dreams; that four centuries later that passageway was artificially provided through the enterprise and energy of a power which in his day had not yet come into existence; and that this transcendent deed was accomplished largely because of Cuba and because of the conflict through which that island violently divorced herself from the imperial sovereignty which Columbus had planted upon her shores.

Lying thus in a peculiar sense at the commercial centre of the world, between North America and South America, between Europe and Asia, between all the lands of the Atlantic and all the lands of the Pacific and subject to important approach from all directions, we must reckon it not mere chance but the provision of benevolent design that Cuba at almost all parts of her peculiarly ample coastline is endowed with a greater number of first-rate harbors than any other country of the world. In recognition of these facts and of their gradual development and application to the purposes and processes of civilization, is a theme worthy to pique the interest and to absorb the attention of the most ambitious historian, whether for the mere chronicling of conditions and events, or for the philosophical analysis of causes and results.

All these things, however, fascinating as they are and copious as is their suggestion of interest, are after all only a minor and the less important part of the real History of Cuba, such as I must endeavor to write. Without the Cuban people, Cuba would have remained a negligible factor in the equations of humanity. Without the people of the island, "what to me were sun or clime?" The genial climate, the fecund soil, the wealth of mines and field and forest, the capacious harbors and the encircling seas, all would be vanity of vanities. Nor is it for nothing that I have suggested differentiation between the Cuban People and the Cuban Nation. Without the development of the former into the latter, all these things could never have hoped to reach their greatest value and utility. The Cuban People have existed for four centuries, the Cuban Nation in its consummate sense for less than a single generation. Yet in the latter brief span more progress has been made toward realization of Cuba's possibilities and destinies than in all those former ages. It is a circumstance of peculiar significance that almost the oldest of all civilized communities in the Western Hemisphere should be the youngest of all the nations. It will be a task of no mean magnitude, but of unsurpassed profit and pleasure, to trace the deliberate development of that early colony into this late nation, and to observe the causes and forces which so long repressed and thwarted the sovereign aspirations of the Cuban People, and also, more gratefully, the causes and forces which inevitably, in the slow fullness of time, achieved their ultimate fulfilment in the secure establishment of the Cuban Nation.

The origin of the Cuban People presents a striking historical and ethnological anomaly. The early settlers of the island, and therefore the progenitors of the present Cuban people, were beyond question the flower of the Spanish race at the very time when that race was at the height of its marvellous puissance and efficience. The Sixteenth Century was the Golden Age of Spain, and they were conspicuous representatives of those who made it so who implanted the genius of their time upon the hospitable soil of the great West Indian island. That rule has been, indeed, common to the colonial enterprises of all lands. The best men become the pioneers. Colonization implies adventure, and adventure implies courage, enterprise, endurance, vision, prudence, the very essential elements of both individual and civic greatness. Strong men, not weaklings, are the founders of new settlements. Even in those lands which were largely populated involuntarily, as penal settlements, the same rule holds good; because many of the convict exiles were merely political proscripts, who in fact were men of virtue, light and leading, often superior to those who banished them.

There is fruit for almost endless thought and speculation in the circumstance that so many of the early Cuban settlers, as indeed of all the Spanish explorers and conquerors of the Sixteenth Century, came from the two Iberian Provinces of Estremadura and Seville. They were, and are, two of the most widely contrasting provinces of Spain. The one a rude, rugged, half sterile region of swineherds and mountaineers, poverty-stricken and remote; the other plethoric with the wealth of agriculture, industry and commerce, and endowed above most regions of the world with the treasures of learning and art. Yet it was from barren, impoverished and uncultured Estremadura that there came Cortez, Pizarro, Balboa, De Soto, and their compeers and followers. We might speculate upon the questions whether great men were thus numerously produced by nature in that region by way of compensation for the paucity and poverty of other products; and whether it was because of their innate genius or because of their desire to seek a better land than their own, that they became the adventurers that they were. The other province which most contributed to the founding of Cuba had from time immemorial been noted for its wealth and culture. In the days of the Cæsars it had been the favorite colonial resort of the plutocracy and aristocracy of Rome, and it had been the birthplace of the Emperors Hadrian, Trajan and Theodosius. Under the Catholic Kings it was the capital and the metropolis of Spain and the chief mart of her world-wide commerce. Indeed it would not be difficult to establish the proposition that it was with the removal of the capital from Seville to Madrid, and the change of national and international policy which was inseparably associated with that removal, that the decline of Spain began.

Cuba was thus in her foundation the fortunate recipient of the rugged and masterful spirit of Estremadura, and of the elements of government and of social grace and intellectual power which Seville could so well and so abundantly supply; and these two contrasting yet by no means incompatible elements became characteristic of the Cuban people; complementarily contributing to the development of a national character quite distinct from that of the Mother Country or that of any other of her offshoots. For the Cuban people and their social organism, separated far from Spain, though subject to her rule, retained largely unimpaired their pristine vigor, and avoided sharing in the degeneracy and decline which befell the Peninsula soon after the malign Hapsburg influence became dominant in its affairs of state; a decline which in the Seventeenth Century became one of the most distressing and pathetic tragedies in the drama of the world.

It was an interesting and a significant circumstance, too, that while Spain was resplendent and exultant in the Golden Age of the Sixteenth Century, Cuba remained intellectually dormant and inactive, and that when at the end of the Eighteenth Century Spain reached her nadir of degradation, Cuba began to rise to intellectual puissance. While Spain was great, it was to be said of Cuba stat nominis umbra; but when Spain declined, Cuba arose to take her place, insistent that the race and its letters, at least, should not universally fall into decay.

It is one of the anomalies of Cuban history that while the island was denied the enjoyment of even those incipient and inchoate intimations of potential nationality which were granted to other Spanish provinces, such as Mexico, Venezuela, Colombia and Peru, it was nevertheless, perhaps more than any other, involved from early times in the international complications and conflicts of Spain. At least equally with the mainland coasts Cuba's shores were ravaged by pirates and freebooters, and were attacked or menaced by the commissioned fleets of hostile powers. Her insular character and her geographical position doubtless accounted for this in great degree, as did also the purblind policy of Spain in failing to give her the care and protection which were lavished upon other no more worthy possessions.

So it came to pass that for a time Cuba was actually conquered and seized by an alien power and was forcibly separated from Spanish sovereignty; and that for many years thereafter she was the object of covetous desire and indeed of almost incessant intrigue for acquisition by two of Spain's chief rivals and adversaries. For nearly half a century Great Britain and France were frequently, almost continuously, each planning to annex Cuba as a colonial possession, either by conquest in war or through barter or purchase in time of peace. It was not until a third great power arose and asserted in unmistakable terms its paramount interest in the island, only a little while previous to our own time, that such designs were reluctantly forsaken.

It was the interesting fortune of Cuba, therefore, not only to engage the early and earnest diplomatic interest of the United States in her behalf, but also to afford to that country occasion for the conception, formulation and promulgation of perhaps the most important of all the fundamental principles of its state policy in international affairs. We have suggested, in anticipation of the narrative, that Cuba was largely to be credited with the inception of the impulse for the prompt construction of the Isthmian Canal. In a far more valid and direct sense Cuba suggested the enunciation of the Monroe Doctrine. It is true that in relation first to Louisiana and then to Florida there had previously been preliminary hints at and approximations to that Doctrine. But those were territories contiguous with our own and already marked by the United States for eventual annexation and incorporation. Cuba, on the contrary, was entirely detached from our domain, and while there were then those who anticipated and desired her ultimate annexation, there was no such confident and determined resolution to that effect that there was in the case of the other regions named. Cuba was therefore the first detached country, not destined for annexation, to which the United States extended and applied the fundamental principle which was later developed into the Monroe Doctrine. We may not doubt that the Monroe Doctrine would have been put forward, even had it not been for Cuba. We may not deny nor dispute that it was because of Cuba and concerning Cuba that the first specific and indubitable intimation of that doctrine was given.

The development of American policy toward Cuba is an important and interesting part of the history of the United States as well as of Cuba. The progressively significant utterances of the younger Adams, of Clay and of Forsythe, culminating years afterward in those of Cleveland and McKinley, form one of the most consistent, logical and convincing chapters in American diplomatic history. It is marred, we must confess, by some adventitious excrescences, chiefly contributed by Calhoun and Pierre Soule. Yet even these, deplorable as they ever must be regarded, fail to destroy the symmetry of the whole. It is a chapter, indeed, which more than any other is comprehensive and expository of the whole spirit and trend of American international transactions.

Cuba has also been intimately connected with three great issues of American domestic politics, as well as with that supreme principle of her foreign policy. The first of these was that of human slavery. From the end of the second war with Great Britain to the beginning of the Civil War that issue dominated American politics and therefore determined largely the American attitude toward Cuba. The pro-slavery influences, which were generally paramount at Washington, resisted all efforts, which otherwise might have been successful, to draw Cuba into the community of republics freed from Spanish rule in Central and South America, because of unwillingness to have her become, like them, free soil; and subsequently the same influences planned and plotted and fought for Cuban annexation to the United States, either by conquest or by purchase, in order that she might thus be added to the slave-holding domain. On the other hand, the anti-slavery party, because of its abhorrence of these schemes, opposed the manifestation of what would have been a quite legitimate and benevolent interest in Cuban affairs. For forty years Cuba was a pawn in the game between these contending factions. Of course this issue was disposed of by the Civil War and the consequent abolition of slavery in the United States.

Another issue was that of expansion. There was from the first a considerable party in the United States that favored the widest possible acquisition of territory, sometimes quite regardless of the means, and it early fixed upon Cuba as what Jefferson and the younger Adams had declared it to be, the most interesting and most natural addition that could be made to the federal system. There was also a party that was resolutely opposed to any further extension of American territorial sovereignty, whether by conquest or purchase. Sometimes the one and sometimes the other of these prevailed in American politics, and not infrequently Cuba was the chief issue between them. Ultimately it was over Cuba that their greatest conflict was waged; resulting in a compromise, under which the United States on the one hand renounced all designs of annexing Cuba, and on the other hand did annex other still more extensive territories.

The third of these issues was that of the tariff. Commercial relations between Cuba and the United States were naturally intimate and important to both countries, and afforded scope for almost endless discussions concerning and manipulations of tariff duties. It was in the power of the United States to enhance or to depress the prosperity of Cuba, by the adjustment of tariff rates. To admit Cuban sugar, not to mention tobacco, freely or at a low duty, into the American market meant prosperity for the island. To place a high tariff rate upon it meant hard times if not disaster in Cuba. During the period between the Ten Years' War and the War of Independence in Cuba, such tariff changes very seriously affected the economic and also the political condition of Cuba; and the final withdrawal of the reciprocity arrangement which had opened American markets to Cuba was one of the chief provoking causes of the final revolution in the island. That revolution would doubtless have come, in any case, but it was measurably hastened and exacerbated by the economic distress which was thus precipitated upon the island, and against which it was realized there could be no assurance until Cuba was an independent nation with full power to regulate and control her own commerce and her own economic system. Even then, as we shall see, for a time the island was involved in economic distress because of the unwillingness of certain sordid interests in the United States to perform the most obvious and indisputable moral duty of that country toward its neighbor. There are few passages which the friendly historian must more regret to record in the story of Cuban-American relations than that of the delay of the American Congress to enter into proper commercial reciprocity with Cuba as soon as the independence of that island was established.

We shall see in these pages why it was necessary, from the very beginning, for Cuba to be entirely freed and divorced from all political connection with Spain, and why all the various proposals of autonomy were essentially and inevitably unacceptable. Such proposals were repeatedly made, by the Spanish government, but they were invariably either consciously or unconsciously delusive. The story of Spain's promises to Cuba is a story of broken promises, and of disappointed hopes. Nor is that to be wondered at by those who take into consideration the circumstances in which the promises were made. When the impossible is promised, the promise is doomed to non-fulfilment. Spain was in an impossible position. In order to pacify Cuba she had to promise her reforms, autonomy, liberty. But in order to maintain herself at home she had to repudiate those promises. Their fulfilment in the West Indies would have been disastrous in the Iberian Peninsula. While Spain was a reactionary monarchy at home, she could not practice liberal and progressive democracy in her colonies. Even when her monarchy became constitutional, and even during the brief periods of her republican government, the full concession of Cuba's demands would have been incompatible with her domestic status. There was an irreconcilable conflict between the European system—even European republicanism—and the American system. Spain was compelled for the sake of her Peninsular integrity and tranquillity to adhere to the former, while Cuba would be and could be contented with nothing short of the latter. Such were the terms of the problem which arose in the early part of the Nineteenth Century. Its only possible solution was in the complete separation of the two countries, and the complete independence of Cuba.

We must not wonder, however, at the circumstance that this was not universally recognized at first, but that year after year some of the wisest and best of Cuban patriots strove merely for reforms in government under continued and perpetual union with the Spanish crown, and that they even deprecated and opposed all efforts at independence. We must not wonder, even, that so late as the War of Independence some of the foremost Cuban statesmen, who yielded precedence to none in purity of purpose and in sincere devotion to what they regarded as the best interests of the island, were willing and even proud to be known as Autonomists and to essay the impossible task of trying to make an Autonomist government successful. The Cubans of to-day, with vision cleared of the red glare of war and of the mists of misapprehension, doubtless understand what the conditions were at that time and appreciate the motives, however mistaken they proved to me, of the Autonomists. American readers, with less vision and comprehension of Cuban affairs, should equally understand the matter when they are reminded that the Cuban Autonomists were merely following the example of some of the men whom Americans most delight to honor.

For precisely the same conditions prevailed, only to a much wider extent, in the Thirteen Colonies at the beginning of the American Revolution, when Washington and Franklin and Jefferson and Jay were American Autonomists, inexorably opposed to independence. Lexington, Concord and Bunker Hill were fought not for independence but for autonomy under the British Crown and in perpetual union with the British Empire. When the First Continental Congress met in the spring of 1774 there was no word, at least, of independence. On the contrary, according to some of the very foremost members of that historic body, the idea of independence, at least in the Middle and Southern colonies, was "as unpopular as the Stamp Act itself." Not only did that Congress complete its course without saying a word for independence, but it adopted an address to the people of Great Britain declaring that the reports which had got abroad that the Colonies wanted independence were "mere calumnies," and that nothing was desired but equality of rights with their fellow subjects in the British Isles. The Second Colonial Congress met after Lexington and Concord and just before Bunker Hill. John Adams and Thomas Jefferson were members of it. But they spoke no word for independence. Instead, Jefferson drafted a declaration, which Congress adopted, to the effect that the Colonies had "not raised armies with designs of separating from Great Britain and establishing independent states"; and in other addresses which the same Congress adopted after the battle of Bunker Hill it was explicitly stated that the Colonists were loyal to the British Crown, that they wished for lasting union with Great Britain, and that they had taken up arms not to find liberty outside of the British Empire but to vindicate and defend liberty within that Empire. After the adjournment of that Congress in August, 1775, less than a year before the Declaration of Independence, so representative a man and so ardent a patriot as John Jay publicly denounced the imputation that the Congress had "aimed at independence" as "ungenerous and groundless," and as marked with "malice and falsity." Not until the spring of 1776 was there any significant turning toward independence as the inevitable resort.

If I have thus dwelt at length upon well-known facts which pertain to the history of the United States rather than to that of Cuba, it is in order to remind American readers, on the strength of a precedent which they, at any rate, must regard with the highest respect, how reasonable it was for Cubans even as late as in 1897 and 1898 to cling to a policy and a hope substantially identical with those which were cherished by the foremost representative American patriots in 1774 and 1775. We can see now, they themselves can see now, that they were in error and that their hopes were vain. But they were no more in error than were the immortal American Autonomists of the beginning of the American Revolution.

Similarly it was necessary that Cuba should not only be entirely separated from Spain but also should be made independent, and not be annexed to the United States. On that point, too, many good men were in error. As we shall see, the first important Cuban revolutionist—although not himself a native Cuban—had in view not independence but annexation to the United States, and so did many another sterling patriot after him. Probably the general feeling was that the one thing supremely essential was to be sundered from Spain, and since annexation to the United States seemed to promise the effecting of that most promptly, most easily and most surely, it was to be accepted as the best solution of the problem. Of course, too, the annexation sentiment in Cuba was greatly encouraged and promoted by the advocates of annexation in the United States, who were numerous, and aggressive, and actuated by a variety of motives.

For three fundamental reasons, however, annexation would have been a deplorable mistake, for both parties. One was, that the Cuban people at heart wanted independence and would permanently have been satisfied with nothing less. Every other Spanish colony in the Western Hemisphere had attained independent sovereignty, and it would have been a reproach to Cuba to have been satisfied with any less status than theirs. The second reason was that Cuba and the United States were incompatible in temperament, and could not have got on well together. That is to be said without the slightest reflection upon either. The two countries were of different racial stocks, different languages, different traditions, different civic ideals. It was and is possible for them to be the best of friends and neighbors, but that is quite different from being yoke-fellows.

The third reason was, that Cuba would not have thought of annexation without Statehood in the Federal Union, to which the United States would not or at any rate should not have admitted her. Nor is that any reflection upon Cuba. The principle was established by governmental utterances, nearly half a century before Cuban independence was achieved, and indeed before any important efforts were made by the United States to purchase Cuba, that outlying territories not contiguous with the continental Union of States, were not to be considered as fitting candidates for statehood. Had Cuba been acquired by the United States at any time it is certain that her admission as a State would have been vigorously opposed on that historic ground. The sequel would have been either that Cuba would have been excluded from the Union, to her entire and intense dissatisfaction, or the United States would have abandoned a highly desirable policy and would have established a precedent under which grave abuses might thereafter have occurred.

The redemption of Cuba from Spanish rule was long delayed, for a number of reasons. One was, obviously, the difficulty of achieving it alone. The South and Central American provinces had revolted simultaneously, or in rapid succession, so that each was of assistance to the others. But at that time Cuba remained faithful to Spain; and when years afterward she sought to follow the example of the others, she found that she had to do so single-handed against the undivided might of the Peninsula. Another very potent reason was, the strength of the pro-Spanish sentiment and influence in the island, caused by the flocking thither of many Spanish loyalists from the Central and South American states and from Santo Domingo. Here, too, American readers may interpret Cuban conditions through reference to their own history. At the close of the American Revolution multitudes of British Loyalists left the United States and settled in Upper Canada, with the result that that Province of Ontario became proverbially "more British than Great Britain." We shall see in our narrative how strong the Spanish loyalist party in Cuba was, and to what extremes it went in its opposition to Cuban independence. In that we may perceive simply a repetition of conditions which prevailed at the close of the American War of Independence. It is probable, too, that the insular position of Cuba, with her coastal waters controlled by the Spanish fleet, and her central position, making her an object of intense international interest and intrigue, also contributed to the same end. Of course, too, since Cuba and Porto Rico were her last remaining possessions in the Western World, Spain made extraordinary efforts to retain them and to prevent the success of any revolutionary movement.

One other influence must be noted, that of the United States. If at any time the counsels of that country had been harmonious and united, they would have had a powerful, perhaps a preponderating, effect upon Cuban affairs. But as we have intimated, and as we shall more fully see in our narrative, they were strongly, often violently, divided. Some were for intervention, some were for non-intervention; some were for making Cuba a free country, some were for preserving it as a slaveholding land; some were for aiding it to become independent, some were for annexing it to the United States. There was no unity of policy, and therefore there was no assurance as to what the United States would do in any given emergency. Cubans did not know what they could depend upon. If they revolted, America might help them, and she might not. There can be no question that this uncertainty was a potent factor in restraining Cubans from radical action, and that it materially postponed the final crisis.

We shall see that more and more, however, the United States was forced by the logic of irresistible events into adopting a united and consistent policy toward Cuba, and that in the ultimate crisis that country was inextricably implicated with the Cuban cause. This was indeed a logical development. In each successive Cuban revolution, beginning with that of Lopez, the United States had been increasingly interested. Commercial and social relations between the two countries were strong and intimate. For nearly three quarters of a century the United States had maintained a quasi-protectorate over the island in behalf of Spain for the time being, but—though unconsciously—in behalf of Cuba itself for the greater time to come. The welfare of the United States had become involved in the disposition of the island in only a less degree than that of the Cuban people.

There can be no doubt that the United States was of very great service and assistance to the Cuban patriots in the War of Independence. Nobody has testified to that fact more earnestly or more comprehensively than the Cubans themselves. They realized it. They appreciated it. They were and are profoundly grateful for it. Their testimony to it is ample for all time. America is relieved of the need of vaunting herself upon it. It would, however, be of a great error and a great injustice to assume that the intervention of the United States in April, 1898, was indispensable to the achievement of Cuban independence, or indeed that it was the United States that set Cuba free from Spain. That would be as great a perversion of the truth of history as it would be to pretend that the United States went to war with Spain over the sinking of the Maine. For the United States to have done the latter would have been one of the monumental crimes of history; and of course it was not done. War was inevitable before the Maine went to Havana Harbor, and would have come just the same if the Maine had not gone thither; perhaps sooner than it did, perhaps not so soon. So Cuban independence would have been won by the Cubans themselves if the United States had not intervened. Possibly it would have come sooner than it did; probably it would not have come so soon. But it would have come. Nobody who has studied the condition of affairs as they then were in Cuba can reasonably doubt it. Nor should recognition of that fact lessen in any degree the propriety—indeed, the necessity—of the American intervention or the grateful appreciation thereof which Cubans feel.

To draw once more upon American history for an example which should convincingly appeal to Americans, the case may be likened to the intervention of France in the American Revolution. There is no American who does not remember that performance with sincere gratitude and with deep appreciation of the undoubtedly great aid which France rendered to the Thirteen Colonies. But I should doubt if there is a well informed American willing to concede that the French aid was indispensable, or that without it Washington and Greene would have been vanquished and the Revolution would have failed. American independence would have been achieved without French aid, though perhaps not so promptly and at greater cost.

An immense service, also, which the United States rendered Cuba in the War of Independence antedated the actual intervention, and consisted in the aid in men, money and supplies which went from the United States to Cuba. It is true that this aid was given largely by Cubans resident in the United States, though many Americans also gave much in money, and some were permitted by the Cubans to give themselves for service in the army. It is also true that much of it was done in surreptitious violation of the neutrality laws; a species of law-breaking at which many United States officials were inclined to wink, and which by common consent was to be regarded as culpable only when it was found out, and then the finding out was more to be regretted than the act itself was to be condemned! Such is the "unwritten law" of international relations in cases in which the technical requirements of the law run counter to generous and righteous human sympathies.

While, therefore, we must believe that even without American intervention in the actual war the Cubans would have won their independence, we may doubt whether such would have been the case if the United States had not all along been dose at hand, a resourceful and hospitable country, in which Cuban political exiles could find secure asylum, in which a Cuban Junta could plan revolution, in which funds to aid the patriot cause could be raised, and which, in brief, could partly in secret and partly in the open be used as a base of supplies and operations. It is to such aid that Cuba owes more than she does to the achievements of the American army and navy in 1898, admirable and useful as they were.

Comparably great, as we shall most notably see in the ensuing chapters, were the services of the United States to Cuba after the War of Independence. These were manifold. The first was diplomatic, in serving as an intermediary between Cuba and Spain, in making the treaty of peace, and in securing the Spanish withdrawal from the island. There is no doubt that all those things were done more smoothly, more satisfactorily and more expeditiously than they could have been had they been left to direct settlement between Cuba and Spain. The services of the United States during the last part of 1898 were more indispensable than those of the spring and summer of that year. Indeed, it might perhaps be claimed that the chief advantage in having the United States intervene was that it enabled her to play that important part in the making of peace and the post-bellum readjustment.

The second great service rendered by the United States was the rehabilitation of the island. This was a manifold undertaking. It comprised rehabilitation after many years of Spanish misrule and neglect, and rehabilitation after the ravages of three years of peculiarly destructive war. The civic maladies to be cured were thus both chronic and acute. Moreover, the work was political, and sanitary, and educational, and economic. Order was to be restored, law was to be administered, government was to be organized, pestilence was to be abated, schools were to be created, the whole work of civilization was to be performed. Splendid as was the work of Sampson's fleet at Santiago, still more beneficent was that of General Wood within the precincts of that city and throughout the Province of Oriente. Nobly memorable was the work of Shafter's army, but we shall read history to little avail if we do not give higher credit to the work of the Military Governor and his lieutenants.

A third service was in acting as guide, philosopher and friend in the great task of organizing and installing the native Cuban government which had been promised by the United States in the act of declaring war against Spain. That self-abnegatory pledge was a noble thing, and noble was the faithful fulfilment of it. I have heard of an eminent and enlightened Cuban who regarded that pledge with incredulity, saying, "It can never be fulfilled!" and who persisted in that incredulity until that memorable noonday when the American flag came down from the Palace and the Morro and the flag of Cuba Libre rose in its place; and then, with tear-suffused eyes, exclaimed, "It can't be; but it is!" Never before in the history of the world had such a thing been done, but it was done and it was well done.

There followed a fourth service, which we may hope has now been definitely completed, but which in the very nature of the case is a potentially recurrent service, which may—absit omen!—be needed again and again; and which the United States may be trusted to perform, if necessary, as faithfully and generously and efficiently as it has already performed it. For we shall see that after the Cuban government had been established and had vindicated its existence by great good service to the island, sordid and treacherous men unlawfully conspired against it and sought to overthrow it by violence and crime. Their success would have meant ruin for the island. Their partial success—for such they had—meant immeasurable loss. But fortunately the United States intervened as readily against Cuban crime as it had against Spanish oppression, and the republic was saved, though "as through fire."

It is this service, following the others which I have named, which differentiates the Cuban Republic from most of the other states which have been formed from the Spanish Empire in America. Of the two states which at one time planned to wrest Cuba from Spain by force and make her a part of their community of nations, Colombia was for half a century in a chronic condition of revolution, and Mexico through the same evil processes has given the word Mexicanize to the political vocabulary. It was the intention of the United States that Cuba should not fall into that category; but it is by no means certain that she would not have done so had it not been for the guardianship of that country.

Our history will disclose more than all these things. These are the records of achievement. But there are other records, even those of conditions as they exist, and as they have been made to exist by virtue of these achievements. Marvellous indeed shall we find them. The story of Cuba's development from a neglected and oppressed colony to an independent nation is stirring and impressive, adorned with the names and deeds of brave men. The story of her development in civilization, from a backward rank to the foremost, is no less impressive, and it is adorned with the names and the labors of wise men, statesmen and scholars, who gave of their best for the welfare of the insular republic for which so many of their kin gave willingly their very lives.

The account which we shall have of the opulent charms and resources of Cuba may be regarded as a volume of contemporary history. It will reveal to us some of the consequences of that narrative of the past which forms the major portion of our story. But it will be more and will do more than that. It must serve as an intimation, a suggestion, almost perhaps a prophecy, of what the future of the Pearl of the Antilles will be. Grateful as is the work of recalling and rehearsing the story of the past, from the days of Columbus and Velasquez to the present, the historian finds it more pleasant and more welcome to dwell upon the present scene. If these volumes, laboriously produced and with a consciousness too often of falling short of the high merits of the theme, shall serve their intended purpose of introducing Cuba, past and present, more fully and most favorably to the knowledge of the world, I shall be more than abundantly repaid. But the supreme and most enduring satisfaction will come from some assurance that I have brought to the appreciative attention of the world not merely the Cuba of four centuries past, with all its legends of adventure and romance, and too often of cruelty and crime, and with its fluctuating though still persistent progress toward the "foremost files of time," but also and still more the Cuba of this present moment and, we may hope, of unmeasured future time. It is a Cuba that is beautiful for situation, opulent in resources, entrancing in charm, illimitable in potentialities; a land of "fair women and brave men," upon which recollection fondly dwells; a land which justifies the latest writer concerning it to repeat once more the estimate of the first who ever wrote of it—"the most beautiful that the eyes of man have ever seen."

Willis Fletcher Johnson.
New York, U. S. A., June, 1919.

CONTENTS

ILLUSTRATIONS

THE HISTORY OF CUBA

CHAPTER I

Cuba; America: America; Cuba. The two names are inseparable. The record of each is in a peculiar sense identified with that of the other. Far more than any other land the Queen of the Antilles is associated with that Columbian enterprise from which the modern and practical history of the Western Hemisphere is dated. In Cuba the annals of America begin.

This island was not, it is true, the first land discovered by Columbus after leaving Spain. It was at least the fifth visited and named by him, and it was perhaps the tenth or twelfth which he saw and at which he touched in passing. But in at least three major respects it had the unquestionable primacy among all the discoveries of his first, second and third voyages, while in his own estimation it was not surpassed in importance by the main land of the continent which he finally reached in his fourth and last expedition. It was the first land visited or seen by him of the identity of which there has never been the slightest question. It was the first considerable land discovered by him, the first which was worth while sailing across the ocean to discover, and it was by far the most important of all found by him in his first three adventures. It was, also, the first and indeed the only land which caused him to believe that the theory of his undertaking had been vindicated and that the supreme object of his quest had been attained. Let us, in order to appreciate the transcendent significance of his discovery of Cuba, briefly consider these three circumstances.

We must remember with respect to the first that the identity of Columbus's first landing place has been much disputed, and indeed has never been determined to universal satisfaction: We know that it was an island of small or moderate size. Columbus himself called it in one place "small" and in another "fairly large." It was level, low-lying, well watered, with a large central lagoon, which may or may not have been a permanent feature, seeing that his visit was in the rainy season, when any depression in the land was likely to be flooded. It was certainly one of the Bahama archipelago. But that extensive group comprises 36 islands, 687 cays, and 2,414 rocks. Which of all these was it upon which the Admiral landed, which was called by the natives Guanahani, and which, with his characteristic religious fervor, Columbus immediately renamed San Salvador, the Island of the Holy Saviour?

The distinction has been claimed, by authorities worthy of respectful consideration, for no fewer than five. Down to the middle of the Nineteenth Century the weight of opinion and tradition favored Cat Island, and upon most maps and charts it was designated as "Guanahani, or San Salvador." It is by far the largest and the northernmost of the five islands in question. Next, to the southeast, lies Watling's Island, to which the distinction of having been the scene of Columbus's landfall has now for half a century been most generally given, and upon maps it is generally named San Salvador. It is the only one of the five which stands out in the Atlantic, beyond the generally uniform line of the Bahamas, as a sort of advance post to greet the voyager from the east. Samana, south by east from Watling's, also called Attwood's Cay, was selected as the true Guanahani by some officers of the United States Coast Survey. Mariguana, further in the same direction, was proclaimed "La Verdadera Guanahani" by F. A. de Varnhagen in a scholarly treatise published in 1864 at Santiago de Chili. Finally, Grand Turk Island, at the southeastern extremity of the Bahama chain, and just north of the coast of Hayti, was designated by Navarrete, in 1825, and by various other authorities, chiefly American, at later dates.

MONUMENT ON SUPPOSED FIRST LANDING PLACE OF COLUMBUS, WATLING'S ISLAND

The chief interest of these speculations for present consideration in this writing is their bearing upon the subsequent course of Columbus, the identity of the next islands which he visited, and finally the point at which he first touched the coast of Cuba. If the original landfall was on Cat or on Watling's Island, then the second land visited, which Columbus called Santa Maria de la Concepcion, was probably either the tiny island now known as Concepcion or the larger Rum Cay; the third, called by him Ferdinandina or Fernandina, was either Great Exuma or Long Island; the fourth, Isabella, may have been either Long Island or Crooked Island, according to whether Fernandina was Great Exuma or Long Island; and the coast of Cuba was reached at some point between Punta Lucrecia and Port Nuevitas. On the other hand, if Grand Turk Island was first reached, the second land would naturally have been, as Navarrete held, at Gran Caico; the third at Little Inagua; the fourth at Great Inagua; and Cuba would have been reached somewhere between Cape Maysi and Sama Point. To me it seems decidedly the more probable that the former course was pursued, and I have accordingly adopted the theory that Columbus first landed in Cuba in the region between Nuevitas and Punta Lucrecia.

The second circumstance which I have mentioned scarcely requires discussion. The first, second and third voyages of Columbus were confined to discoveries and explorations of the West India Islands, and of all of these, even including Hayti and Jamaica, there can be no question of Cuba's primacy, whether in size, in wealth of resources, in political and strategical importance, or in historical interest. It was so recognized by Columbus himself, who indeed in one respect actually esteemed it more highly than it deserved. For after long and careful exploration he became convinced that it was not an island, but was the mainland of the Asian continent—Mangi, or Cathay: that country of the Great Khan of which Marco Polo had written and which Toscanelli had indicated upon his map, and the visiting of which was the supreme object of the Admiral's enterprise.

To understand this aright we must remember that Columbus was not seeking a new continent. He had no thought that one existed. He held, with Isidore of Seville, that all the lands of the world were comprehended in Europe, Africa and Asia, and that there was only one great ocean, the Atlantic, which stretched unbroken save by islands from the western shores of Europe and Africa to the eastern coast of Asia and the East Indies. Moreover, he considerably overestimated the extent of Asia and underestimated the circumference of the earth. Years later, long after the circumnavigation of the globe had been effected, Antonio Galvano, learned historian and geographer though he was, computed the equatorial circumference of the earth at only 23,500 miles, or about 1,400 miles too little; while the best maps of the sixteenth century indicated the Asian continent as extending far into the western hemisphere, and the Pacific Ocean as a narrow strip not nearly comparable with the Atlantic in extent. Schoener's globe, of 1520, which is still to be seen at Nuremberg, represents the "Terra de Cuba" as integral with the whole North American continent, with its western coast only five degrees of longitude or 300 miles from the shore of Zipangu or Japan, and only 30 degrees or 1,800 miles from the mainland of Asia.

Columbus therefore expected to find the coast of Asia in about the longitude in which he actually found America. When he reached the Bahamas he confidently assumed them to be the group of islands which Toscanelli had indicated as lying off the coast of Cathay; and when he learned from the natives of a much larger island lying to the south, which they called Colba, Cuba, or Cubanacan, he believed it to be none other than Cipango, or Zipangu, which Toscanelli had shown as by far the largest of the East Indian islands. It has been commonly assumed, apparently with little dispute or attempt at investigation, that Cipango was Japan. But the distance—1,500 miles—at which it was said to lie from the coast of China, the southerly latitude assigned to it, and the multitude of small islands which were clustered about and near it, are circumstances which suggest that instead of Japan the island meant may have been Luzon, the northernmost and largest of the Philippines. However that may be, Columbus promptly decided to steer straight for Cipango, with the result that he reached the northern shore of the eastern part of Cuba.

The third circumstance which I have mentioned was then developed. It was a great triumph, and a vindication of his enterprise, that he had reached Cipango. But even that was not enough. He was in quest of the mainland of Mangi or Cathay, the land of the Great Khan. He found in Cuba no traces of the opulence and splendor of which Marco Polo had written. Yet the natives frequently referred to "Cuba-nacan" as a great place somewhere in the interior. The phrase merely meant the central part of the island, but the final syllable was identified by Columbus with "Khan," and, with the wish as father of the thought, he presently conceived the notion that it was not the island of Cipango upon which he had landed, but the shore of Cathay itself. Further explorations, including coasting along the northern shore to within a few miles of the western extremity, confirmed him in this belief, which became absolute conviction. To the end of his life, therefore, he believed that Cuba was the eastern extremity of the Asian continent, which indeed Toscanelli had delineated upon his map as terminating in a long, narrow cape; and it was upon the strength of this belief and report of Columbus that Schoener in 1520 and Muenster in 1532 identified Cuba with the whole North American continent, while various other cartographers of that time made it integral with Cathay itself. The maps of La Cosa and Ruysch, in 1508, hinted at this. The Nancy Globe, and a notable map in the Sloane MSS. in the British Museum, dated 1530, do, it is true, indicate Cuba to be an island, but they also make India Superior and Tibet contiguous with Mexico at the northwest, with the latter country fronting directly upon the Indian Ocean. We know, of course, that during his second voyage, in 1494, while off the southern coast of Cuba, Columbus required his companions to sign with him a formal declaration that they were off the coast of Asia. Such, then, was the Admiral's estimate of Cuba, in which there is no reason to doubt he persisted to the end of his life. He had achieved the object of his great adventure: He had reached the country of the Great Khan.

Despite these delusions and vagaries, however, the facts remain that he did discover and partly explore Cuba, and that it was the first land in the Western Hemisphere of which that can confidently be said. Cuba is therefore the starting point of the history of the Columbian discovery and exploration and the subsequent colonization and civilization of America. With Cuba the history of the New World begins.

Similarly, and with equal truth, we may say that the history of Cuba begins with the Columbian discovery of America. That is not true of all parts of the American continents. Some of them had already had important histories. The northeastern coast of North America had been visited and temporarily colonized by the Norsemen, and the northwestern coast by the Chinese; and both of those peoples had left enduring traces of their enterprise. The Iroquois and Algonquins had for centuries enjoyed a degree of social, political and industrial development, the records of which still survive. The Toltecs, the Mayas and the Incas had risen to a height of culture not unworthy to be compared with that of Egypt, Persia, Greece and Rome, the remains of which to this day command the wonder and admiration of the world. But not so Cuba. Carlyle might well have had this island in mind when he said, "Happy the people whose annals are blank in history books."

The physical history of Cuba indicates that in some remote period the two mountainous ends of the island were two separate and distinctly different islands, separated by a considerable stretch of sea, and that they were afterward united by a rising of the bottom of the sea, to form the central plain of Cuba. It is observed that the two ends are unlike each other on geological structure and composition, in soil, and in indigenous flora. Indeed, they have ever differed from each other radically in their cultivated crops. At what date the union of them occurred, and by what means it was effected, we can only guess. But it is a reasonable assumption that the raising of the sea-floor to form the central plain of the island was caused by one of the seismic disturbances to which this general region of the earth's surface has from time immemorial been subject. There are, moreover, reasons for suspecting that this occurred at a time subsequent to the creation of man, and indeed after both of the original islands had become inhabited. That is because the two ends of the island appear, in Columbus's day, to have been occupied by different races. Of the inhabitants of the western end we know comparatively little, save that they were more warlike and adventurous than those at the east, and several authorities have likened them either to the Caribs or to the Mayas of Yucatan. That they were Mayas seems, however, doubtful, since they left no traces of the high degree of civilization which formerly prevailed among that distinguished race in Yucatan.

The people of the eastern end of Cuba, when the island was discovered by Columbus, were doubtless of Antillan stock, or "Tainan" as some have called them, with possibly a slight admixture of Carib, though not sufficient materially to affect them in any respect. They were physically a handsome, stalwart people, of a light reddish brown color, somewhat lighter than the North American Indians. They wore no clothing, with the exception of the married women, who wore breech clouts, and confined their adornments to slight necklaces and bracelets. They lived in neatly constructed cabins of cane or bamboo and thatch, rectangular or circular in form and generally of two or three rooms each; equipped with furniture of cane or of handsomely carved wood. For beds, however, they used hammocks, of woven cotton or plaited grass; the name, hammock, being of Antillan or Carib origin. These houses were, according to early Spanish testimony, kept scrupulously clean and neat. They were grouped in villages, around a central square which served as a market place and playground.

They were agriculturists, tilling the ground with considerable skill and producing yuca, corn, beans, peanuts, squashes, peppers and various other crops, besides fruits and tobacco. They were singularly expert fishermen, and for the purpose of that pursuit they constructed fine canoes, of the hollowed boles of large trees, but unlike the Caribs they do not seem to have resorted to navigation for any other purpose. They also hunted game on the land, solely for food, but their hunting was much restricted, since there were no large animals of any kind on the island. Their manufactures were confined to primitive cotton weaving, wood carving, basketry, pottery—of a pretty good quality of decorated ware—and various stoneware implements.

In disposition and manners they were friendly, hospitable, courteous, and confiding. Despite their nudity they had the unconscious modesty of nature, and their morals were superior to those of most primitive peoples. The tradition that venereal diseases prevailed among them and were thus first made known to European peoples through their having been acquired from the natives by Columbus's men, seems to be quite void of foundation; indubitable proof exists of the prevalence of those diseases in both Europe and Asia at an earlier date than Columbus's time. They practised but recognized domestic, social and civic equality of the sexes. They were almost universal tobacco smokers, and it was from them that the use of that plant was first learned. They were pleasure loving, much given to dancing, to games of ball, and to swimming.

Their form of government was patriarchal, though there seem to have been chiefs of some sort over whole villages or even districts. The laws were, however, mild and humane. In religion they presented a striking and most grateful contrast to the Toltecs, Aztecs and other peoples of the continent, having none of the human sacrifices and atrocious tortures that disfigured their worship. They believed in a Supreme Being and a future and immortal life. They had a form of worship in which the use of idols as symbols, and the smoking of tobacco, largely figured. They had a regularly constituted priest-hood, the members of which they credited with powers of divination and of healing. There were none of the revolting practises and superstitions, however, which have been common to many primitive peoples. They were not warlike, and had no military organization, but they certainly were not cowards, as some of the early Spanish conquistadors had cause to know.

They had, it is obvious, nothing which could survive them as a memorial of their existence. Their architecture, if so it may be called, was most perishable. They had no art, save in pottery, and that was not highly developed. They had no literature. The result was that when they perished through unfavorable contact with a more powerful and aggressive race they left scarcely a trace of themselves behind, save in the records and testimony of their conquerors and destroyers. Some specimens of their pottery have been preserved: the words "hammock" and "canoe" come to us from them; and the use of tobacco is their universal memorial.

Such were the aborigines, if not the absolute autochthones, of Cuba. Their only history lives in the brief and scanty records of them made by their destroyers. They left no enduring impress upon the island, save its name. How many they were is unknown, and estimates which are mere guesses differ widely. In a single generation they disappeared, partly through slaughter and partly through such diseases as small pox and measles, which were introduced to the island—of course, not intentionally—by the Spaniards, and which the natives were unable to resist. The only significant history of Cuba begins, therefore, with the landfall of Christopher Columbus upon its shores.

CHAPTER II

Sunday, October 28, 1492, was the natal day of Cuba; the day of its advent into the ken of the civilized world. At the island which he called Isabella—either Long Island or Crooked Island—Columbus had heard of a very great land which the natives called Cuba, and which, the wish being father to the thought, he instantly identified with Cipango. Toward it, therefore, his course had thereafter been directed. Progress was slow, because of contrary winds and calms, and there were numerous small islands along the way to engage at least passing attention. Particularly was there a group of seven or eight, lying in a row extending north and south, which he called the Islas de Arena, and which we may confidently identify with the Mucaras. Early on the morning of Saturday, October 27, he had left the last of the Sandy Isles behind, and from a point considerably to the eastward of them, probably near what is now known as Rocky Heads, he had set his course a little west of south for the shore of Cuba. Thus he had passed across the southeastern end of the Great Bahama Bank, since most appropriately called the Columbus Bank, until just at nightfall he had seen looming before him on the southern horizon the mountainous form of a vast land. It was too late, however, to continue the voyage that night, so he lay to, and at earliest daybreak of Sunday morning, leaving behind him the islet fittingly called Caya Santo Domingo, completed his course to the land which he fondly but vainly hailed as the much-sought Cipango.

The coast at the point at which he reached it seemed specially designed by nature for his favorable and auspicious reception. There lay before him what seemed the estuary of a large and beautiful river, free from rocks or other impediments, and with a very gentle current. It had an ample depth of water for his vessels, and was sufficiently broad, even at a considerable distance inland, for them to beat about in. It was encircled by lofty and picturesque hills, the aspect of which reminded him of the "Pena de los Enamorados" near Granada, in Spain; and upon the summit of one of them was what he described as another little hill, shaped like a graceful mosque. Enchanted with the vision, and gratified beyond expression at what he confidently assumed to be the reaching of his goal and the vindication of his enterprise, he gave to the spot a repetition of the name which he had devoutly bestowed upon his first landfall, calling the port San Salvador.

The identity of this spot has been much questioned and disputed; perhaps even more than that of Columbus's first landing in the Bahamas; and it is not to be regarded as entirely certain. Washington Irving pretty confidently placed it at Caravelas Grandes, far to the west of Nuevitas del Principe, while others insist that it was at Nuevitas itself. Navarrete, on the other hand, with his theory that the first landfall was at Grand Turk Island, held that Cuba was reached at Nipe Bay, east of Holguin; while Las Casas and Herrera insisted that the port of San Salvador was at Baracoa, near Cape Maysi, at the extreme eastern end of the island. Midway between the extremes, that most scholarly and judicious of geographers, Sir Clements Markham, selected the natural harbor of Naranjo, a little to the west of Punta Lucrecia and Punta Mulas. Other historians and geographers, after painstaking research, declare that they do not believe the place can be determined.

With this, in the ultimate analysis, I would agree. It is probably impossible to establish indisputably the identity of the place. Yet it does seem to me that the arguments in favor of Naranjo, as selected by Markham, are so strong as to be all but entirely convincing, and that it will be judicious, therefore, to assume that it was there that the Admiral first reached the shore of Cuba. A glance at the map shows this to be the region which was nearest and which he was likeliest to reach first, coming from either Long Island or Crooked Island, eastward of the Mucaras, on a south-southwest course, which, we are told, is what he steered. The port of Naranjo answers to his description in depth and breadth more nearly than any other on that part of the coast. It is the estuary of a considerable river, as was Columbus's San Salvador, though how large the river really was he does not appear to have undertaken to ascertain, though he did ascend the stream some little distance on his first day's visit. Finally, it is to be observed that Naranjo is girt about by hills, precisely as was his San Salvador, and on the crest of one of them there is a huge rock, jutting up like "another little hill" and roughly resembling in shape a mosque, because of which the hill is called "Loma del Temple." This, then, and not Nuevitas, Nipe, nor Baracoa, I believe to have been the scene of Columbus's discovery of Cuba.

QUEEN ISABELLA

We have seen that Columbus at first unhesitatingly believed it to be Cipango which he had reached. Despite that fact, and also despite the fact that the natives called it Cuba, he insisted upon renaming it. In accordance with his previous practice in nomenclature, it must have a very noble and distinguished name. His first landfall he had named for the Holy Saviour Himself; the second for the Holy Virgin; the third for the King, and the fourth for the Queen of Leon and Castile. The next name in order, in dignity and distinction, was that of the heir to the dual throne, wherefore he named the land Juana. Most writers, including Irving, have made the curious but facile mistake of saying that this name was given "in honor of Prince Juan, the son of Ferdinand and Isabella." It was, in fact, in honor of Princess Juana, the daughter of those sovereigns. She was that unhappy princess who because of her insanity was called "La Loca," and who by her marriage with Philip of Burgundy and of Hapsburg brought a new dynasty to the Spanish throne and greatly involved the monarchy in the politics and wars of Central Europe. Juana was mentally incompetent to succeed to the throne of Castile which she inherited upon the death of her mother, wherefore she was compelled to relinquish it to the regency of her father; and when he united Castile with Aragon, and conquered and annexed Navarre and Granada, and thus became the first King of Spain, Cuba was renamed in his honor and known no longer as Juana but as Ferdinandina, or Fernandina. Still later it was called San Diego, or Santiago; and again Ave Maria Alfa y Omega. But these names were transitory. The natives never accepted one of them, but clung to the old name of Cuba, and there was a fine touch of poetic justice in the fact that that name survived the extinction of the race that had cherished it. Under the ruthless rule of the Conquistadores the aboriginal population of the island almost entirely vanished, and with them practically all traces of their existence save four. These were the name and use of tobacco, the name and use of hammocks, the name and use of canoes, and the name of the island itself.

It would not have been surprising, and it would have been quite pardonable, had Columbus seen everything in the New World through glasses of couleur de rose. Naturally of a romantic and imaginative temperament, he experienced in the realization of his long-cherished ambition such a degree of spiritual and mental exaltation as seldom has come to mortal man. Yet quite apart from this, the native beauty of Cuba, as seen to our eyes to-day, abundantly justifies the rhapsodies in which he indulged in describing it. On that first memorable Sunday he wrote in his diary, "This is the most beautiful land ever beheld by human eyes." From the quarter-deck of the Santa Maria he gazed with rapture upon the profuse verdure of the shore and of the hills which rose in the back-ground, observing with admiration and surprise that the trees grew down to the very water's edge, as did also the herbage, as he had never seen it elsewhere. The palms and other trees were largely of different kinds from those which he had seen in Spain, in Guinea, and elsewhere, and they bore flowers and fruit in great profusion, while among them were innumerable birds, beautiful to the eye and with songs entrancing to the ear.

Two canoes, containing each several natives, put out from a recess in the harbor shore to meet the Spanish ships, but when a boat was lowered from one of the latter, to proceed ahead and take soundings, they incontinently fled. Columbus himself then entered a small boat and went ashore, where he found two houses, which he assumed to belong to the owners of the two canoes. No persons were to be found upon the premises, and the only living things were "a kind of dog that never barks," which we may assume to have been some small animal of the ant bear tribe, now probably extinct or at any rate no longer domesticated. The houses were notably neat and clean, and were evidently the abode of fishermen, since in them were nets and cordage of palm fibre, fish-hooks of horn, and harpoons of bone. All about the houses the herbage was as profuse, at the end of October, as it was in Andalusia in May. Most of the herbs as well as the trees were strange to Columbus, but he found some wild amaranth, and much common purslane. He went some distance up the harbor, or river as he called it, at every step or stroke of the oars seeing something new to excite his admiration.

The natives of Guanahani whom he had brought on his ship informed him that Cuba was a very large island, which could not be circumnavigated in twenty days; that it contained ten large rivers and that its whole expanse was well watered. They were also understood by Columbus to say that gold mines and pearls were to be found in the island, and that large ships came thither from the mainland domains of the Grand Khan, ten days' sail away. The bulk of this "information" was of course quite mistaken by Columbus, his vivid imagination and his eager desires easily misleading him into interpreting anything which the natives might say, largely in sign language, as meaning just what he wished to be true.

The next day Columbus left San Salvador and sailed westward along the coast. That was the direction in which, according to the natives of Guanahani, the mainland and the capital of the King or the Grand Khan were to be found. That, too, was the direction in which Mangi and Cathay were to be found according to the map of Toscanelli, assuming Cuba to be Cipango: which Columbus at this stage of his enterprise confidently believed. Of the researches of the great voyager along the Cuban coast we have a detailed account in his journal. Unfortunately, there is no certain means of identifying the points at which he landed. They are described as being so many leagues from his starting point, San Salvador; wherefore it is obvious that all depends upon the identity of the latter. Yet it seems to me that his account of his coastwise explorations strongly confirms the theory that his San Salvador was Port Naranjo and not Nuevitas. For we are told that six leagues westward he found a cape or point of land extending toward the northwest; ten leagues further another point, extending toward the east; one league further a small river, which he called the Rio de la Luna; and beyond it another much larger river, which he called the Rio de Mares. This latter river had for its estuary a broad basin resembling a lake, and its entrance was marked by two round mountains on the one side and a lofty promontory on the other.

Now, making reasonable allowance for lack of accuracy in measurements and for discrepancies in descriptions, this account may readily be applied to the coast westward from Port Naranjo to Nuevitas, while it is altogether inapplicable to the coast westward from Nuevitas. For a score of leagues westward from Naranjo there are capes and mountains and rivers, and there is more than one river with precisely such a lagoon-like estuary as that which Columbus found at his Rio de Mares. Indeed, Port Padre, with its extensive lagoon into which several rivers flow, or Port Manati, with the Cramal and Yarigua rivers, might either of them be identified, in approximate distance and in topography, with the Rio de Mares. On the other hand, if we were to assume Nuevitas to have been the starting point, what should we find? Either he must have been skirting the outer side of the Sabinal and Romano keys, and Guajaba Island, which do not at all coincide with the description given, or he must have been navigating the great littoral lagoon between those keys and the mainland of Cuba; in which latter case it is to be observed that that part of the Cuban coast does not correspond with his description, and that it is certainly extraordinary that he made no mention of his voyage having been in what is practically an inland sea. That he could have passed in through the Nuevitas Channel, or the Carebelas Channel, or the Guajaba Channel, without observing and remarking upon Sabinal Key, Guajaba Island, or Romano Key, is simply not supposable. Such a feature of "Cipango" could not have escaped notice on his first arrival there, though it might easily have been ignored or passed over as of no special significance in subsequent explorations.

On Tuesday of that memorable week, October 30, Columbus left the Rio de Mares and sailed to the northwest for fifteen leagues, and there discovered a point which he named the Cape of Palms. Beyond it was a river, the entrance of which was said to be four days' journey from what the natives called Cubanacan, meaning the heart of the island, the centre of Cuba. With his characteristic habit of interpreting native names and statements in accordance with his own desires, Columbus at once assumed this to mean Kublai Khan, or the City of the Khan, of which he was in quest; and accordingly he bent all his energies and gave all his attention to getting thither, disregarding the things which he passed by on the way. It was probably at this time, therefore, that he sailed through one of the channels among the keys, and entered the great coastal sound which stretches from Nuevitas to Caibarien, if not indeed to Cardenas. He reached the river on Wednesday, but found it too shallow for his ships, and therefore, after some fruitless cruisings, returned to the Rio de Mares.

It was on November 12 that he again sailed from the Rio de Mares, and on the next day that he sailed south-westward into a great gulf, which he supposed to divide Cuba from another island called by the natives "Bohio"—the word really meaning not an island at all but "home." Thereafter for some time he was obviously cruising around Guajaba Island and Romano Key, which, with Sabinal Key, he supposed to be the mythical "Bohio." Some port, possibly Boca de la Yana, he called Puerto Principe, and the water, presumably between Thiguano Island and Cocos Key, he called the Mar de la Nuestra Senora. Rounding Guillermo Key, as we may suppose, he swung into the Old Bahama Channel, and by wind and tide was carried backward to Guajaba Island and perhaps to Nuevitas. Thence he made his way westward and southward, rounding Point Sama and Point Lucrecia, and reaching Port Nipe and Port Banes on the morning of November 27. Those two capacious bays he did not attempt to enter. He regarded them indeed not as bays but as straits, or arms of the sea, and the promontory between them he supposed to be an island. At Taco he landed for a few moments, and then pursued his way, and at nightfall dropped anchors at what he called Puerto Santo, which we may probably identify with the modern Baracoa. There he remained until December 4, when he sailed to the southeast, and the following day passed out of sight of Cape Maysi and left Cuba behind him; crossing the Windward Passage to reach "Bohio" or "Babeque," where there were said to be pearls and gold, and reaching Hayti, or Santo Domingo, which he called Espagnola. He did not revisit Cuba during the remainder of his first American voyage.

Espagnola, Latinized by us into Hispaniola, became thereafter the chief care of the Admiral. It was there that he planted, on his second voyage, the first European colony in the western hemisphere. But after various operations in Hayti, marked with both trials and triumphs, during his second American expedition he returned to the Cuban coast for further explorations of what he still thought to be Cipango. It was at the end of April, 1494, that he sailed from Mole St. Nicholas, Hayti, across the Windward Passage toward Cape Maysi, which he himself had called Cape Alpha and Omega. Instead, however, of retracing his way to Baracoa and along the north coast, he went to the left of Cape Maysi and began skirting the southern coast of Cuba. This route would, according to Toscanelli's map, take him to the southward of Mangi and Cathay, but it would lead him to the Golden Chersonesus, around the southern shore of Asia, and so home to Europe by circumnavigating the globe.

The points visited by him on this excursion are more easily and surely to be identified than those of his first voyage. His first landing was at Guantanamo, which he called Puerto Grande. He found an entrance passage, winding but deep, leading in to a spacious land-locked lagoon, surrounded by hills covered with verdure. Here he established friendly relations with the natives, and remained for two or three days. Thence he sailed westward, as close to the shore as safety would permit, and frequently entered into friendly intercourse with the natives who thronged the strand to gaze in wonderment at his strange ships. At Santiago de Cuba he spent a night, and during his stay he diligently inquired of the natives for the land in which gold was to be found. They indicated it to lie farther to the south and west, doubtless meaning South America. Columbus thereupon set sail in that direction, partly because gold was most desirable to obtain, and partly because he assumed the land of gold to be the land of the Great Khan, which he was still intent upon reaching. The result was his discovery of Jamaica. A fortnight later, however, on May 18, he returned to Cuba, reaching it at Cabo de la Cruz, or Cape Cruz. Here he found a large village, whose chief and indeed all whose inhabitants had heard of him as one descended from heaven. He was hospitably received, and was able to make many inquiries about the country. He was told that Cuba was an island, but of so vast extent that nobody had ever sailed around it. He thereupon set out to circumnavigate it and sailed from Cape Cruz northward into the Gulf of Guacanabo. There he found a multitude of small islands, which he named the Queen's Gardens, and there, remembering that Marco Polo and Sir John Mandeville had both reported the coast of Asia to be fringed with a crowded archipelago, he was again confirmed in his belief that he was approaching the shore either of Cathay or of the Golden Chersonesus.

Navigation among these islands, however, was difficult, dangerous and slow, particularly when tropical thunderstorms were raging, as they then were almost daily, and it was with much relief that the expedition at last reached the Cuban coast, probably at or near Santa Cruz del Sur. There they were told that they were in the province of Ornofay; the province which they had formerly visited, at Cape Cruz, was Macaca; and to the west there lay the important province of Mangon, where they could secure much fuller information on all subjects. They were again assured that Cuba was an island, but so vast in extent that nobody could hope ever to go around it. The mention of the province of Mangon again stimulated the hopes and fancy of Columbus. He identified it with Mangi, the southernmost and richest province of the Great Khan, and in this he was confirmed by the fantastic statement of the natives, that the people of Mangon had tails and wore long robes to conceal them! Columbus recalled that Sir John Mandeville had related a similar story as current among some tribes in Eastern Asia. He therefore set out with renewed eagerness and expectation for the coast of Mangon.

Emerging from the archipelago, he sailed for many miles along the southern coast of Cuba, through an open sea, with the mountain ranges of Santa Clara at his right hand and at his left the open expanse of the Caribbean, its intense blue attesting its depth. After passing the Gulf of Xagua, however, there came a sudden change. The sea became shallow, and thickly dotted with small islands, keys, and banks, while the water was white as milk. The voyagers had crossed the Gulf of Cazones and were among the Juan Luis Keys, where the water is shallow and where at times the agitation of the water by storms causes it to be whitened and rendered opaque with the calcareous deposit with which the sea floor is there thickly covered. This character of the bottom also made it impossible for the vessels to find anchorage. The anchors dragged and the water became more white and turbid. To the members of the crews these phenomena caused great terror, which was by no means ill founded, since there was imminent danger of the vessels being driven ashore and wrecked. To Columbus, in his state of mental exaltation and high expectancy, however, they were full of inspiration and encouragement to proceed, indicating to him that he was entering strange regions where extraordinary discoveries were to be made. For we must remember that, far as he was in advance of his time in geographical vision, he still thought that the earth was not globular but pear-shaped, and he expected to find tribes of men with tails, and with only one eye and with their heads growing beneath their shoulders!

Finding anchorage at last upon the shore of a small island, he sent the smallest of his vessels forward to explore the archipelago and also to visit the coast of the mainland. The report which was brought back to him was that the archipelago was as dense and as intricate as the Gardens of the Queen which they had left behind them, and that the coast of the mainland was flat, marshy, and covered with almost impenetrable mangrove forests, far beyond which fertile uplands and mountain ranges were to be seen, while numerous columns of smoke ascending gave token of a considerable population. At this the entire expedition proceeded, to retrace the course which had been pursued by the pilot caravel, and after much difficulty and occasional groundings of the vessels, the coast of Cuba was reached, doubtless near the eastern extremity of the great Zapata Peninsula. The vast marshes gave little encouragement for landing, and the expedition continued eastward until Punta Gorda was reached, to which Columbus gave the name of Punta Serafina.

Rounding this point and heading northward, the fine expanse of Broa Bay confronted them, with the coast of the Province of Havana far beyond, and with another archipelago at the west. The mountains which lie between Guines and Matanzas fringed the horizon, and toward them the Admiral steered, presently reaching good anchorage off a most inviting coast. The mangrove swamps of Zapata had been left behind, and here the shore was high and dry, and covered with groves of palm and other trees. Here a landing was made, and copious supplies of fresh water were found for the refilling of their casks, while some of the archers strayed into the forest in quest of game. One of the latter presently returned in haste and fear, crying for help. He reported that he had seen in a forest glade three men of white complexion, clad in long white tunics, leading a company of about thirty more, armed with clubs and spears. They did not attack him, but one of them advanced alone as if to speak with him; whereupon he fled. At this report all his companions joined him in hastening back to the ships for safety.

When Columbus heard these things he was much pleased. He saw in them confirmation of what he had been told about the Province of Mangon, with its men who had tails and who wore long robes to hide them. He at once sent a strongly armed party inland to seek these men and parley with them; directing them to go as much as forty miles inland, if necessary, to find them, and to find the populous cities which he confidently believed to exist in that region. These explorers readily enough traversed the open palm forest which bordered the coast. But then they came to extensive open upland plains or savannahs, with few trees but with rank grass and other herbage as high as their heads and so dense as to be almost impenetrable. No roads or paths were to be found, and it was necessary to cut a trail through the herbage. For a mile they struggled on, and then gave up the attempt and returned to the ships. The next day another party was sent in another direction, with no better results. Its members found fine open forests, abounding with grapevines laden with fruit, and they saw flocks of cranes which they described as twice the size of those of Europe. But they also saw on the ground the footprints, as they supposed, of lions and of griffins, which so alarmed them that they beat a hasty retreat.

Lions, and indeed all large beasts of prey, were never known to exist in Cuba, and the griffin was of course never anything but imaginary—unless a tradition of some prehistoric monster, ages ago extinct. But huge alligators or caymans abounded in Cuban waters, and the footprints which frightened Columbus's explorers were doubtless made by them. The observation of large cranes suggests, also, an explanation of the panic-stricken archer's story of men clothed in white robes. A flock of those huge birds, standing erect and in line, with their leader advanced before them, as is their custom, in the semi-gloom of a strange forest, might well have given him the impression of a company of white-robed men. Of course, no men of that description were ever found in Cuba, nor were there traces of any.

It did not take Columbus long to explore Broa Bay sufficiently to ascertain that it was not an arm of the sea, but a mere coastal indentation; whereupon he resumed his westward cruising. A little further on, probably in the neighborhood of Batabano, he found the shore inhabited, and though neither he nor his interpreters could understand the language of the natives, they contrived to hold some communication with them by means of signs. He gleaned from them in this manner the information that far to westward, among the mountains, there was a great king, ruling in magnificence over many provinces; that he wore long white robes and was considered a semi-divine personage, and that he never spoke but conveyed his decrees in signs, which nobody dared to disobey. To what extent this was really intended by the natives, and to what extent was the mere figment of the Admiral's lively imagination, it is impossible to say. It is entirely conceivable, however, that the Cubans had some knowledge of the Aztecs and Toltecs of Mexico, and the Mayas of Yucatan, and were referring to them. Certainly they could not have referred to anybody in Cuba. But Columbus, as ever fondly believing whatever he wished to be true, confidently assumed that they were telling him of the mythical Prester John, and that he was on the shores of that potentate's domain. The mountains of which the natives spoke, he supposed, were those of Pinar del Rio, which were already in sight on the northwestern horizon.

Concerning the extent of Cuba, and of the coast along which he was sailing, Columbus could get little information. He was told that the coast extended westward for at least twenty days' journey, but whether it then ended, and how it ended, he could not learn. He therefore took one of the natives with him as a guide, and resumed his voyage. Almost immediately, however, he plunged into another archipelago, almost as dense and troublesome as that through which he had passed a few days before. Making his way through it with great difficulty, he reached the coast of Pinar del Rio, and effected a landing amid swamps and forests, only to find the region uninhabited, though frequent columns of smoke rising inland indicated to him the presence of a considerable population. For some time he made his way along that inhospitable coast, which trended steadily toward the southwest, a direction agreeing with his conceptions of the Asian coast as described by Marco Polo. Surely, he thought, he was on the coast of Indo-China, headed straight for the Golden Chersonesus. If he persisted, he would cross the Indian Ocean and reach the Red Sea, whence he could complete his journey to Europe overland by way of Palestine; or he could steer southward along the African coast and around that continent, and so reach home by circumnavigating the globe.

These fancies appear to have been shared by his companions, among whom were several accomplished navigators and geographers. The delusions were of course largely due to the erroneous estimate of the size of the globe, which made its circumference too little by some thousands of miles. But his companions could not be persuaded to approve his scheme of going on to circumnavigate the globe. The glamor of that vision did not blind their eyes to the worn and dilapidated condition of the ships, the lack of supplies, and the weariness of the crews. They were in no condition, they insisted, to proceed further through unknown regions. It was already satisfactorily demonstrated, they held, that they had reached the Asian coast. The part of prudence was to turn back to Isabella, if not to Spain, and refit their vessels for another and longer voyage.

These counsels finally prevailed upon Columbus himself, at the time when his flotilla lay at anchor in the Bay of Cortez, near the western extremity of Cuba. He was indeed so near that extremity that a day or two more of sailing would have brought him to Cape San Antonio and would have shown him that Cuba was an island. Or from the top of some tall tree, or even from the mast head, he might have looked across the lakes and lowlands of that region and seen the waters of Guadiana Bay, on the north side of the island. But this was not to be. Instead, he required every member of his company, from sailing master to cabin boy, to swear to and sign a formal declaration to the effect that the land which they had discovered and explored was a part of the Indies and of the Asian continent. Then, on June 13, he turned his course toward the southeast, only to enter another archipelago, the San Felipe and Indian keys. Beyond lay a large land, with mountains, to which he gave the name of Evangelista. It was, of course, the Isle of Pines, which he reached a little south of Point Barcos. Taking in a supply of water and wood, he skirted the coast southward, with the result that he ran into the land-locked recesses of the Bay of Sunianea. Finding no thoroughfare in that direction, he sailed back almost to the Bay of Cortez, and then made his way along the Cuban coast, through the archipelagoes, milky seas and what not which had given him so much trouble on his westward trip.

It was on July 7 that the next landing in Cuba was made, at a point on the southeastern coast of Camaguey, and at the mouth of a fine river which Columbus called the Rio de la Missa but the identity of which is now uncertain. It may have been the San Juan de Najasa or the Sevilla, or one of the several streams between those two. There, in a most genial and fruitful region, they spent some days and established friendly relations with the chief of a considerable community. In the presence of this chief and his retainers an altar was erected beneath a great tree, and mass was celebrated. An aged native, apparently a priest, watched this proceeding with much interest, and at its close approached Columbus and addressed him, saying:

"This which thou hast done is, I perceive, thy method of worshipping thy God; which is well. I am told that thou hast come hither with a strong force, and hast subdued many lands, filling the people with great fear. Be not, however, vainglorious. The souls of men after these bodies are dead have, according to our belief, one of two journeys to pursue. One is to a place that is dismal, foul and dark, which is prepared for those who have been cruel and unjust to their fellow men. The other is to a place of light and joy, prepared for those who have practised peace and justice. Therefore if thou art mortal, and must some time die, and dost expect that all men are to be rewarded according to the deeds done in their bodies, see that thou work justice and do no harm to those who have done no harm to thee."

In this address was revealed the most that we know of the religion of the Cuban aborigines. Columbus listened to it with surprise and gratification, not having supposed that any such faith or such knowledge of the future life existed among the natives of Cuba. He responded through his interpreter sympathetically, assuring the old man that he had been sent forth by his sovereigns to teach the true faith and to do good and no evil, and that all innocent and peaceable men might confidently look to him for friendship and protection. He also had his interpreter tell the people of the greatness, riches and splendor of Spain; to which they listened in credulous bewilderment. Then, on July 16, he sailed away from Cuba again, amid expressions of regret by the chief and his comrades; taking with him one of the young men whom he afterward sent to the Spanish court. But a storm struck his feeble vessels and nearly wrecked them. On July 18 they anchored near Cape Cruz for repairs, and were most hospitably received by the natives. At last, on July 22, they departed for Jamaica, whence they returned to Isabella. Never again did Columbus visit Cuba, though he approached its southern shore on his fourth voyage, on his way to the coast of Central America. To the end of his life, presumably, he believed Cuba to be a part of the Asian continent, continuous with Honduras and Veragua.

CHAPTER III

We have already quoted the enthusiastic encomium of Columbus upon Cuba at his first sight of and landing upon its shore. His diary and his narrative to the sovereigns of Leon and Castile on his return to Spain abound with similar expressions, as well as with informing bits of description of Cuba as they then found it. In the very first days of his first visit he found villages of houses "made like booths, very large, and looking like tents in a camp without regular streets but one here and another there. Within they were clean and well swept, with furniture well made. All were of palm branches, beautifully constructed. They found many images in the shape of women, and many heads like masks, very well carved. It was not known whether these were used as ornaments, or were to be worshipped."

The waters abounded in fish, and the people of the coast regions were apparently nearly all fishermen. The only domestic animals were the "dogs which never barked," and birds in cages. There were seen, however, skulls like those of cows, on which account Columbus assumed that inland there were herds of cattle. All night the air was vocal with the songs of birds and the chirping of crickets and other insects, which lulled the voyagers to rest. Along the shore and in the mouths of rivers were found large shells, unlike any that he had known in Spain, but no pearls were in them. The air was soft and salubrious, and the nights were neither hot nor cold. On the other islands which he had visited the heat was oppressive, a circumstance which he attributed to the flat and low-lying land; while Cuba was mountainous and therefore was blessed with cooling breezes.

At some point on the northeastern coast, probably in the neighborhood of Point Sama, a month after his first landing, he imagined that he had discovered deposits of gold. It was in the bed of a river, near its mouth, that he saw stones shining, as if with gold, and he had them gathered, to take home to Spain and to present to the sovereigns. At the same point some of the sailors called his attention to the pine trees on a neighboring hill. They were "so wonderfully large that he could not exaggerate their height and straightness, and he perceived that in them was material for great stores of planks and masts for the largest ships of Spain."

Further on, probably in the neighborhood of Baracoa, "they came to the largest inhabited place that they had yet seen, and a vast concourse of people came down to the beach with loud shouts, all naked, with darts in their hands." Columbus desired to have speech with them, and accordingly anchored his ships and sent boats ashore, bearing gifts for the natives. The people at first seemed inclined to resist any landing, but when the Spaniards in the boats pressed on and began to land, without manifesting any fear, they abandoned their hostile attitude and began to withdraw. The Spaniards who landed called to them and strove to lure them back, but without success. They all ran away. In consequence of this and similar incidents, Columbus wrote:

"I have not been able to see much of the natives, because they take to flight. But now, if Our Lord pleases, I will see as much as possible, and will proceed little by little, learning and comprehending; and I will make some of my followers learn the language—for I have perceived that there is only one language up to this point. After they understand the advantages I shall labor to make all these people Christians. They will readily become such, because they have no religion nor idolatry; and Your Highnesses"—he was addressing the sovereigns, in his journal—"will send orders to build a city and fortress, and to convert these people.

"It does not appear to me," he continued, "that there can be a more fertile country or a better climate under the sun, with more abundant supplies of water. This is not like the rivers of Guinea, which are all pestilential. I thank Our Lord that up to this time there has not been a person of my company who has had so much as a head-ache, except one old man who has suffered from stone all his life, and he was well again in two days. I speak of all three vessels. If it should please God that Your Highness should send learned men out here, they will see the truth of all I have said."

While in the neighborhood of Baracoa, at the end of November and beginning of December, 1492, he saw a canoe made of the hole of a single tree, 95 palms long and capable of carrying 150 persons. "Leaving the river, they came to a cove in which there were five large canoes, so well constructed that it was a pleasure to look at them. They were under spreading trees, and a path led to them from a very well built boathouse, so thatched that neither sun nor rain could do any harm. Within it there was another canoe made out of a single tree like the others, like a galley with 17 benches. It was a pleasant sight to look upon such goodly work.

"The Admiral ascended a mountain, and afterward found the country level and cultivated with many things. In the middle there was a large village, and they came upon the people suddenly, but as soon as they were seen the men and women took to flight. The Admiral made the Indian from on board, who was with him, give them bells, copper ornaments, and glass beads, green and yellow, with which they were well content. He saw that they had no gold nor any other precious thing, and that it would suffice to leave them in peace. The whole district was well peopled.... No arms are carried by them except wands, on the point of which a short piece of wood is fixed, hardened by fire, and these they are very ready to exchange.

"Returning to where he had left the boats, he sent back some men up the hill, because he fancied he had seen a large apiary. Before those he had sent could return, they were joined by many Indians, and they went to the boats, where the Admiral was waiting with all his people. One of the natives advanced into the river near the stern of the boat and made a long speech, which the Admiral did not understand. At intervals the other Indians raised their hands to heaven and shouted. The Admiral thought that the orator was assuring him that he was pleased at his arrival. But he saw the Indian who came from the ship change the color of his face and turn as yellow as wax, trembling much and indicating to the Admiral by signs that he should leave the river, as they were going to kill him. The Admiral then pointed to a cross-bow which one of his followers had, and showed it to the Indians, making them understand that they would all be slain, because that weapon killed people at a great distance. He also drew a sword from its sheath and showed it to them, telling them that it, too, would slay them. Thereupon they all took to flight; while the Indian from the ship still trembled from cowardice, though he was a tall, strong man."

Columbus then determined to seek further acquaintance with the natives, and accordingly had his boat rowed to a point on the shore of the river where they were assembled in great numbers. They were naked, and painted; some wearing tufts of feathers on their heads, and all carrying bundles of darts. "I came to them," said Columbus, "and gave them bread, asking for the darts, in exchange for which I gave copper ornaments, bells and glass beads. This made them peaceable, so that they came to the boats again and gave us what they had. The sailors had killed a turtle, and the shell was on the boat, cut into pieces, some of which the sailors gave them in exchange for a bundle of darts. They were like the other people we had seen, with the same belief that we had come from heaven." They were ready, he added, to give anything that they had in exchange for any trifle, which they would accept without saying that it was little, and Columbus believed that they would thus give away gold and spices, if they had had any. In one of the houses which he entered "shells and other things were fastened to the ceiling." He thought that it was a temple, and he inquired, by signs, if such was the case and if prayers were there offered. The natives replied in the negative, and one of them climbed up to take down the ceiling ornaments and give them to Columbus, who accepted a few of them.

It was early in November, 1492, that one of the most noteworthy discoveries in relation to Cuba was made. At that time Columbus sent inland from the port at the mouth of the Rio de Mares two men, Rodrigo de Jerez and Luis de Torres, to explore the inland country and to find if possible the high road to the capital and palace of the Great Khan. These men did not find what they had been sent for, but something else, which proved in after years to be of incalculable value to Cuba and to the world. To quote Las Casas:

"They met on the road many men and women, passing to their villages, the men always with half-burned brands in their hands and certain herbs for smoking. These herbs are dry and are placed in a dry leaf made in the shape of the paper tubes which the boys make at Easter. Lighted at one end, at the other the smoke is sucked or drawn in with the breath. The effect of it is to make them sleepy and as it were intoxicated, and they say that using it relieves the feeling of fatigue. These rolls they call 'tabacos.'" Some of Columbus's men, when it was reported to them, tried smoking the "tabacos," and the habit soon became prevalent among the Spanish colonists in Hispaniola.

These few items, then, compose practically the sum and substance of the knowledge which Columbus acquired of that land which was, second to only the continent, by far the most important of all his discoveries. They are few and meagre. It is indeed doubtful if history records an even approximately comparable instance of the disappearance of a numerous and capable people from a country of vast interest and importance, leaving behind them so few traces of themselves and so little information concerning them. For these things are not merely all that Columbus learned about Cuba. They are all that his successors learned and that the world has ever learned about Cuba as it existed prior to and at the time of the great discovery. Tobacco, hammocks, canoes, and the name of the island and the names of various places on it which have persisted in spite of the repeated attempts to substitute a new nomenclature; these are the world's memorials of pre-Columbian Cuba.

The brief visits and superficial inspection which we have recorded were not, however, destined to be the full compass of the Discoverer's personal relationship to Cuba. While he did not again visit the island in life, nor give to it any of the attention which ampler knowledge would have shown him it deserved, his mortal remains were conveyed thither, and there remained for a considerable period; though by a strange fatality this fact, well authenticated as it is, has been persistently and elaborately disputed, until the tomb of Columbus has in the minds of many become almost as much a matter of speculation and uncertainty as the place of his birth.

It was on Ascension Day, May 20, 1506, that Columbus died at Valladolid, in Spain, and there his body was laid to rest in the parish church of Santa Maria de la Antigua, a church of the Franciscan Fathers. The date of the first removal is unknown, and is much disputed. Some have placed it as late as the year 1513, while others, as the result of later and more assured research, declare it to have been within a year or two, or at most within three years, of his death. Of the new place of sepulture, however, there is no question. It was in a chapel of the Carthusian monastery of Santa Maria de las Cuevas, at Seville; where also, years afterward, were laid the remains of his son, Diego, who died at Montalban on February 23, 1526.

But as in life, so in death Columbus must needs be a wanderer. In 1542 the city of Santo Domingo, the capital of that island colony of Hispaniola to which Columbus's chief attention had been given, demanded to be made the repository of the body of its founder. Accordingly, Charles I decreed the removal, and the bodies of Christopher Columbus and his son Diego were both transferred from Seville to a double tomb in the cathedral of Santo Domingo, hard by the fortress in which the Discoverer had once been confined by Bobadilla as a prisoner. Thus far the record was and is clear; and for two and a half centuries the tomb remained inviolate. Indeed, it was so little meddled with that its precise location became a matter of doubt, save that it was somewhere "in the main sanctuary" of the cathedral.

The first attempt to determine it was made about 1783 by the French politician and writer, Moreau de Saint-Mery, a kinsman of the Empress Josephine and a member of the Colonial Council of Santo Domingo. Diligent inquiry, without actual exhumation, resulted in the information that the remains of Christopher Columbus, enclosed first in a leaden casket and then in a massive coffin of stone, lay underneath the Gospel side of the sanctuary, and that those of his brother, Bartholomew Columbus, similarly enclosed, lay underneath the Epistle side. This was contrary, in one respect, to the understanding of years before, which was that it was the body of Columbus's grandson Luis which lay under the Epistle side of the sanctuary. The problem was complicated by the fact that the cathedral had been so remodelled that the tomb of Columbus was underneath its wall, where actual examination was difficult; and in fact no exhumation was then attempted.

In 1795, however, the island was transferred to French sovereignty, and the Spanish governor, on relinquishing his rule, requested permission to remove the remains of Columbus to Havana, Cuba, in order that they might continue to rest beneath the Spanish flag. This was granted to him, and accordingly, in January, 1796, the tomb beneath the wall on the Gospel side of the sanctuary of the cathedral of Santo Domingo was opened, and the coffin found within was reverently removed and borne to Havana, where it was deposited in a new tomb in the cathedral—formerly the Church of the Jesuits—where its presence was indicated by a medallion and inscription on the wall of the chancel. For many years that was indubitably regarded as the tomb of the Discoverer.

It was not until 1877 that doubt of this fact arose. In that year repairs were made to the cathedral of Santo Domingo, in the course of which the rector, the Rev. Francis Navier Billini, insisted upon reopening the tomb underneath the Epistle side of the sanctuary, which had of old been reputed to contain the coffin of Luis Columbus, but which Saint-Mery had been informed contained the remains of Bartholomew Columbus. There was discovered a leaden casket, which, like that which had been taken to Havana, bore no inscription. But upon or close by it there lay a sheet of lead bearing the words, "The Admiral Don Luis Colon, Duke of Veragua and Marquis of...." The remainder was undecipherable. The casket was therefore accepted as that of Columbus's grandson; confirming the common belief before the time of Saint-Mery.

Not content with this discovery, the enterprising rector continued his excavations, and presently the finding of another leaden casket was announced, which was reported to bear an inscription, much abbreviated, which, amplified, ran thus: "Discoverer of America; First Admiral." This created a great sensation, and stimulated Dominican pride. The rector at once sent for the President of Santo Domingo and other dignitaries of state and church, including various foreign diplomats and consuls, and in their presence continued the examination of the treasure trove. Upon opening the casket, the inner side of the lid was found also to bear an inscription, greatly abbreviated, which was interpreted as reading: "Illustrious and Noble Man, Don Cristoval Colon." This the Dominicans joyfully proclaimed to be proof positive that the remains of the Discoverer were still in their possession, and that the casket which had been taken to Havana contained the bones of some other member of the Columbus family.

From that event arose a controversy which probably will never be settled to universal satisfaction. The Dominicans marshalled to the support of their claims various historical and antiquarian authorities, and the Cubans and the Spanish government secured at least an equal array in support of their claim that the remains of Columbus had been transferred to Havana. A strongly convincing report to the latter effect was made to the Spanish government by Señor Colmeiro, of the Spanish Royal Academy of History, and his judgment was generally accepted throughout Cuba and Spain. It was pointed out that the inscriptions contained various anachronisms indicating that they must have been written at a much later date than that of the death and interment of Columbus.

Havana therefore continued confidently to pride itself upon being the repository of the dust of the Great Admiral, and his tomb in the ancient cathedral was thus recognized and revered by countless visitors. But at last, in 1899, after the independence of Cuba from Spain had been accomplished, a request was made by the Spanish Government for the transfer of the casket and its precious contents back to Spain, where historically they belonged. It was indeed pointed out that the transfer to Havana in 1796 had been intended to be only temporary, pending a fitting opportunity for a further removal to Spain. This request was granted, and the dust of the Discoverer was finally reinterred in the cathedral of Seville.

[THE HAVANA CATHEDRAL]

Originally the church of the Jesuits, this imposing edifice was built in 1656, though not completed until 1724, and took the place of the first cathedral in 1762. Within a tomb within its walls the remains of Columbus rested from 1796, when they were taken thither from Santo Domingo, to 1899, when they were conveyed to Spain.

CHAPTER IV

Between these first merely tentative and inconclusive visits of Columbus to Cuba, in which so much was imagined and so little learned or done, and the actual occupation and settlement of the island, which were reserved for a few years later, it will be profitable to pause for a brief space, to review what science has revealed to us of not merely the pre-Columbian but indeed what we may term the archaic history of this chief member of the Antillean group. It is a history written in the rocks and soils, in the mountains and plains and rivers; in brief, the natural history of the island.

This was something at which Columbus could merely have guessed, if indeed he had taken the trouble to think of it at all. He knew only that it was a fair land to look upon and promised to be a pleasant land in which to dwell; and his successors in the quest hoped to find its river beds and its mountain rocks rich with the gold which they coveted. That was all. It remained for the ampler knowledge and the more patient and painstaking research of later years to analyze the structure of the island, to discern the causes and the processes through which it had been developed into its present beautiful and opulent condition, and to learn that on the surface and just below the surface of its almost infinitely variegated face there lay the potency and the promise of wealth beyond the utmost limits of the dreams of those conquistadors of ancient Spain who were oestrus-driven by the auri sacra fames.

Let us consider, then, the geological history of Cuba, so far as it has been ascertained; and the topography of the land as it has been revealed through a far more comprehensive survey than that of the Great Admiral's enraptured vision.

It is, of course, impossible to know the geological history of a country until its paleontology has been thoroughly studied and investigated. Where formations of different geological ages are lithologically so similar as to be often indistinguishable, the only method of differentiating them is by their fossils. Some paleontological work has been done in Cuba, but the specimens collected were not accompanied by the necessary data.

In the present imperfect state of our knowledge of the stratigraphy and areal geology of the island, it would be hazardous to attempt to indicate the times at which the various levels were developed, or to designate the periods during which they remained above the level of the sea. To do this would require a detailed knowledge of nearly all the various phases of its geology.

The oldest rocks in Cuba, with the possible exception of the schistose limestones of Trinidad, are composed of granites and serpentines. The relative age of these rocks, to the central mass of limestones in the province of Pinar del Rio, has not been determined, but we do know that the oldest igneous rocks were themselves folded, faulted and subjected to other processes of metamorphism, and that subsequent to the changes to which they were subjected, the entire region was uplifted and deeply eroded before the cretaceous sedimentation began. No data are available for determining the geologic period at which the pre-cretaceous erosion began, but the region has doubtless been standing above the waters of the ocean for a very long interval, since the amount of rock carried away has been manifestly great.

The surface upon which the cretaceous sediments were deposited, appears to have been reduced by erosion to a very low relief, so that the land was a featureless plain when the cretaceous subsidence began. The time interval required for the accomplishment of this erosion must have been very long, since when it began the region was undoubtedly mountainous.

The complex character and disturbed altitude of the pre-cretaceous rocks, the granites, diorites and other granular rocks which appear on the surface because of this erosion, were originally formed deep within the crust of the earth, and therefore furnish a reason for believing that this period of erosion was exceedingly long.

It has been suggested that during the Jurassic times, the southeastern coast of the United States was connected by a long isthmus, following the line of the Antilles, to the northeastern coast of South America. The data presented would seem to indicate that at least the eastern half of Cuba stood high above the level during this period of the earth's history, and although data concerning the western half are less definite, it too was probably composed of high land masses.

The elevation, and long period of erosion just described, were followed by subsidence, and on the surface of these old rocks the cretaceous formations were deposited. The lowest cretaceous rocks yet found are composed of an arkose, derived in large part from the original igneous mass. The main body of the strata is composed of limestones, and such fossils as they contain belong to the genera similar to those of the cretaceous rocks of Jamaica—Radiolites, Barrettra, Requienia, etc.

During this time the whole of the Island of Cuba was probably submerged below the level of the sea. The cretaceous rocks in Santa Clara province occur in the bottoms of synclines, and the projected dips appear sufficiently to carry the beds over the tops of the dividing anti-clinal axis. It is believed, however, that the depth of the cretaceous sea over the island was probably never very great.

Owing to a lack of paleontological data, the history of the island during the Eocene time is vague, but it is probable that a large part of it was submerged. This is certainly true of the province of Oriente, where Eocene fossils have been collected. During, and possibly previous to that period, volcanic agencies were active in Oriente, since volcanic rocks are found interbedded with sediments of the Eocene age. The same forces were probably active in other sections of the island, and the intrusion of Diorite porphyries in Santa Clara and other provinces probably took place during that period.

A portion of the island, at least in the vicinity of Baracoa, was deeply submerged during the lower Oligocene times, as is proved by the occurrence of radiolarian earth beneath the upper oligocene limestones near the above town. Radiolarian oozes are at present being formed on the sea bottom at depths of between 2,000 and 4,000 fathoms. This, of course, does not prove that the deposits of Baracoa were laid down at so great a depth as present day dredging would indicate, but we can at least feel confident that they were formed in very deep water. This does not imply however that the whole island was sunken to the abysmal depths.

During the upper Oligocene time very nearly the whole island was undoubtedly submerged. Previous to this volcanic agencies had been very active throughout the larger portion of the island. Mountain building in Oriente had begun before the deposition of upper Oligocene strata, and the Sierra Maestra had already been elevated to a considerable height above the sea. It is probable that the sea at this time covered the whole of the island, with the exception of portions of Oriente province along its north and south coast, and occasional high peaks along the axis of the provinces further west.

The Miocene period was one of general uplift. The whole of the island as we at present know it, was above the level of the ocean's waters. There were foldings and uplifts during this period, and volcanic elevation along the axial line being greater than at the sides. It is probable that the folding of the Oligocene strata noted in the vicinity of Havana and Matanzas took place during this time. It may be inferred that the central portion of the province of Oriente was more highly elevated than the coastal portions, since upper Oligocene limestones occur in this section at considerably higher elevations than along either the north or south coast.

It is furthermore very probable that the terracing of the Oligocene coral reefs, such as may be seen in the vicinity of the city of Santiago, was taking place during that time. All the evidence goes to show that these are wave-cut terraces. It may be added here that all of the elevated Pleistocene coral reefs recorded are plastered on the surface of the upper Oligocene formations, or in some instances older geologic rocks. This applies to every later coral terrace that has been described, beginning with Cabanas and extending entirely around the island to the City of Santiago.

The existence of marine Pliocene in Cuba has not been proved. There may be pliocene rocks in the vicinity of Havana some 60 feet above the sea level. If these are true Pliocene, it would indicate a subsidence during that time of from ISO to 180 feet. The character of the fauna found in the quarry on Calle Infanta does not indicate a greater depth than from SO to 70 feet for the water in which the limestone was deposited.

Subsequent to this deposition, there was an elevation which caused the land to stand some forty or fifty feet higher than it does to-day. This probably took place in early Pleistocene times, at which time the Isle of Pines and Cuba were connected. One reason for the belief in this elevation is the existence of an old, deep and comparatively narrow cut in the bed of the present channel leading out of Havana harbor. There is further evidence of a general elevation found in borings for water, three miles southeast of the city of Santiago.

At a depth of some 70 feet below the sea level, in the Rio San Juan Valley, stream-carried pebbles were found. This would indicate that the bottom of this valley once stood at least 70 feet or more above sea level. Subsequent to this elevation, there was a subsidence varying from 40 to 70 feet. There were doubtless other slight oscillations during the Pleistocene period, and these may be going on at the present time, although we have no evidence from records of actually measured monuments established since the Spanish occupation of the island.

Paleontologic, biologic and physiographic research seems to indicate that there has been no land connection between Cuba and North America at any time since the beginning of the Tertiary, unless perhaps during the Oligocene period, and it seems probable there was no connection whatever during cretaceous times.

Cuba furnishes a very interesting field, not only for geologic research, but for a far more extended study and survey of its many important mineral zones both for scientific and for economic reasons.

Topographically the surface of Cuba may be divided into five rather distinct zones, three of which are essentially mountainous. The first includes the entire eastern third of the province of Oriente, together with the greater part of its coast line, where the highest mountains of the island are found. The second includes the greater part of the province of Camaguey, made up of gently rolling plains broken by occasional hills or low mountains, that along the northern coast, and again in the southeast center of the province, rise to a height of approximately 1,500 feet above the general level.

The next is a mountainous district including the greater part of eastern Santa Clara. The fourth comprises the western portion of this province together with all of Matanzas and Havana. The surface of this middle section is largely made up of rolling plains, broken here and there by hills that rise a few hundred feet above the sea level.

The fifth includes the province of Pinar del Rio, the northern half of which is traversed from one end to the other by several more or less parallel ranges of sierras, with mean altitudes ranging from 1,000 to 2,000 feet, leaving the southern half of the province a flat plain, into which, along its northern edge, project spurs and foot hills of the main range.

The highest mountains of Cuba are located in the province of Oriente, where their general elevation is somewhat higher than that of the Allegheny or eastern ranges of the United States. The mountainous area of this province is greater than that of the combined mountain areas of all other parts of the island. The mountains occur in groups, composed of different kinds of rock, and have diverse structures, more or less connected with one another.

The principal range is the Sierra Maestra, extending from Cabo Cruz to the Bay of Guantanamo, forty miles east of Santiago. This chain is continuous and of fairly uniform altitude, with the exception of a break in the vicinity of Santiago where the wide basin of Santiago Bay cuts across the main trend of the range. The highest peak of the island is known as Turquino, located near the middle of the Sierra Maestra, and reaching an altitude of 8,642 feet.

The hills back of Santiago Bay, separating it from the Valley of the Cauto, are similar in structure to the northern foothills of the main sierra. In the western part of the range, the mountains rise abruptly from the depths of the Caribbean Sea, but near the City of Santiago, and to the eastward, they are separated from the ocean by a narrow coastal plain, very much dissected. The streams which traverse it occupy valleys several hundred feet in depth, while the remnants of the plateau appear in the tops of the hills.

East of Guantanamo Bay there are mountains which are structurally distinct from the Sierra Maestra, and these continue to Cape Maysi, the eastern terminus of Cuba. To the west they rise abruptly from the ocean bed, but further east they are bordered by terraced foothills. Towards the north they continue straight across the island as features of bold relief, connecting with the rugged Cuchillas of Baracoa, and with "El Yunque" lying to the southwest.

Extending west from this eastern mass are high plateaus and mesas that form the northern side of the great amphitheatre which drains into Guantanamo Bay. Much of this section, when raised from the sea, was probably a great elevated plain, cut up and eroded through the ages since the seismic uplift that caused its birth.

The most prominent feature of the northern mountains of Oriente Province, west of "El Yunque," is the range comprising the Sierras Cristal and Nipe. These extend east and west, but are separated into several distinct masses by the Rio Sagua, and the Rio Mayari, which break through and empty into harbors on the north coast. The high country south of these ranges has the character of a deeply dissected plateau, the upper stratum of which is limestone.

The character of the surface would indicate that nearly all the mountains of the eastern part of Oriente have been carved through erosion of centuries from a high plateau, the summits of which are found in "El Yunque" near Baracoa, and other flat topped mountains within the drainage basins of the Mayari and the Sagua rivers. The flat summits of the Sierra Nipe are probably remnants of the same great uplift.

Below this level are other benches or broad plateaus, the two most prominent occurring respectively at 1,500 and 2,000 feet above sea level. The highest summits rise to an altitude of 2,800 or 3,000 feet. The 2,000 foot plateau of the Sierra Nipe alone includes an area estimated at not less than 40 square miles. It would seem that these elevated plateaus with their rich soils might be utilized for the production of wheat, and some of the northern fruits that require a cooler temperature than that found in other parts of Cuba.

In the province of Oriente, the various mountain groups form two marginal ranges, which merge in the east, and diverge toward the west. The southern range is far more continuous, while the northern is composed of irregular groups separated by numerous river valleys. Between these divergent ranges lies the broad undulating plain of the famous Cauto Valley, which increases in width as it extends westward. The northern half of this valley merges into the plains of Camaguey, whose surface has been disturbed by volcanic uplifts only by a small group known as the Najassa Hills, in the southeast center of the province, and by the Sierra Cubitas Range, which parallels the coast from the basin of Nuevitas Bay until it terminates in the isolated hill known as Loma Cunagua.

The central mountainous region of the island is located in the province of Santa Clara, where a belt of mountains and hills following approximately northeast and southwest lines, passes through the cities of Sancti Spiritus and Santa Clara. Four groups are found here, one of which lies southwest of Sancti Spiritus and east of the Rio Agabama. A second group is included between the valleys of the Agabama and the Rio Arimao.

The highest peak of Santa Clara is known as Potrerillo, located seven miles north of Trinidad, with an altitude of 2,900 feet. A third group lies southeast of the city of Santa Clara, and includes the Sierra del Escambray and the Alta de Agabama. The rounded hills of this region have an altitude of about 1,000 feet although a few of the summits are somewhat higher.

The fourth group consists of a line of hills, beginning 25 miles east of Sagua la Grande, and extending into the province of Camaguey. The trend of this range is transverse with the general geological structure of the region.

East of the city of Santa Clara the hills of this last group merge with those of the central portion of the province. The summits in the northern line reach an altitude of only a thousand feet. The principal members are known as the Sierra Morena, west of Sagua la Grande, Lomas de Santa Fe, near Camaguini, the Sierra de Bamburanao, near Yaguajay, and the Lomas of the Savanas, south of the last mentioned town.

In the province of Pinar del Rio, we find another system, or chain of mountains, dominated by the Sierra de los Organos or Organ mountains. These begin a little west of Guardiana Bay, with a chain of "magotes" known as the "Pena Blanca," composed of tertiary limestone. These are the result of a seismic upheaval running from north to south, almost at right angles with the main axis of the chains that form the mountainous vertebrae of the island.

Between the city of Pinar del Rio and the north coast of La Esperanza, the Organos are broken up into four or five parallel ridges, two of which are composed of limestone, while the others are of slate, sandstones and schists. The term "magote," in Cuba, is applied to one of the most interesting and strikingly beautiful mountain formations in the world. They are evidently remnants of high ranges running usually from east to west, and have resulted from the upheaval of tertiary strata that dates back probably to the Jurassic period.

The soft white material of this limestone, through countless eons of time, has been hammered by tropical rains that gradually washed away the surface and carved their once ragged peaks into peculiar, round, dome-shaped elevations that often rise perpendicularly to a height of 1,000 feet or more above the level grass plains that form their base. Meanwhile the continual seepage of water formed great caverns within, that sooner or later caved in and fell, hastening thus the gradual leveling to which all mountains are doomed as long as the world is supplied with air and water. The softening and continual crumbling away of the rock have formed a rich soil on which grows a wonderful wealth of tropical vegetation, unlike anything known to other sections of Cuba, or perhaps to the world.

The valley of the Vinales, lying between the city of Pinar del Rio and the north coast, might well be called the garden of the "magotes," since not only is it surrounded by their precipitous walls, but several of them, detached from the main chain, rise abruptly from the floor of the valley, converting it into one of the most strangely beautiful spots in the world.

John D. Henderson, the naturalist, in speaking of this region, says: "The valley of the Vinales must not be compared with the Yosemite or Grand Cañon, or some famed Alpine passage, for it cannot display the astounding contrast of these, or of many well-known valleys among the higher mountains of the world. We were all of us traveled men who viewed this panorama, but all agreed that never before had we gazed on so charming a sight. There are recesses among the Rocky Mountains of Canada into which one gazes with awe and bated breath, where the very silence oppresses, and the beholder instinctively reaches out for support to guard against slipping into the awful chasm below. But the Valley of Vinales, on the contrary, seems to soothe and lull the senses. Like great birds suspended in the sky, we long to soar above it, and then alighting within some palm grove, far below, to rejoice in its atmosphere of perfect peace."

A mountain maze of high, round-topped lomas, dominates almost the entire northern half of Pinar del Rio. It is the picturesque remnant of an elevated plain that at some time in the geological life of the island was raised above the surface 1,500, perhaps 2,000, feet. This, through the erosion of thousands of centuries, has been carved into great land surges, without any particular alignment or system.

Straight up through the center of this mountainous area are projected a series of more or less parallel limestone ridges. These, as a rule, have an east and west axis, and attain a greater elevation than the lomas. They are known as the Sierras de los Organos, although having many local names at different points. Water and atmospheric agencies have carved them into most fantastic shapes, so that they do, in places, present an organ pipe appearance. They are almost always steep, often with vertical walls or "paradones" that rise 1,000 feet from the floor or base on which they rest.

The northernmost range, running parallel to the Gulf Coast, is known as the "Costanero." The highest peak of Pinar del Rio is called Guajaibon, which rises to an altitude of 3,000 feet, with its base but very little above the level of the sea. It is probably of Jurassic limestone and forms the eastern outpost of the Costaneros.

The southern range of the Organos begins with an interesting peak known as the Pan de Azucar, located only a few miles east of the Pena Blanca. From this western sentinel with many breaks extends the great southern chain of the Organos with its various groups of "magotes," reaching eastward throughout the entire province. At its extreme eastern terminus we find a lower and detached ridge known as the Pan de Guanajay, which passes for a few miles beyond the boundary line, and into the province of Havana.

Surrounding the Organos from La Esperanza west, and bordering it also on the south for a short distance east of the city of Pinar del Rio, are ranges of round topped lomas, composed largely of sandstone, slate and shale. The surface of these is covered with the small pines, scrubby palms and undergrowth found only on poor soil.

From the Mulato River east, along the north coast, the character of the lomas changes abruptly. Here we have deep rich soil covered with splendid forests of hard woods, that reach up into the Organos some ten miles back from the coast. Along the southern edge of the Organos, from Herredura east, lies a charming narrow belt of rolling country covered with a rich sandy loam that extends almost to the city of Artemisa.

Extensions, or occasional outcroppings, of the Pinar del Rio mountain system, appear in the Province of Havana, and continue on into Matanzas, where another short coastal range appears, just west of the valley of the Yumuri. This, as before stated, has its continuation in detached ranges that extend along the entire north coast, with but few interruptions, until merged into the mountain maze of eastern Oriente.

Outside of the mountainous district thus described, the general surface of Cuba is a gently undulating plain, with altitudes varying from only a few feet above the sea level to 500 or 600 feet, near El Cristo in Oriente. In Pinar del Rio it forms a piedmont plain that entirely surrounds the mountain range. On the south this plain has a maximum width of about 25 miles and ascends gradually from the shores of the Caribbean at the rate of seven or eight feet to the mile until it reaches the edge of the foothills along the line of the automobile drive connecting Havana with the capital of Pinar del Rio.

North of the mountain range, the lowland belt is very much narrower and in some places reaches a height of 200 feet as a rule deeply dissected, so that in places only the level of the hill tops mark the position of the original plain.

The two piedmont plains of Pinar del Rio unite at the eastern extremity of the Organos Mountains and extend over the greater part of the provinces of Havana and Matanzas and the western half of Santa Clara. The divide as a whole is near the center of this plain, although the land has a gradual slope from near the northern margin towards the south.

In the neighborhood of Havana, the elevation varies between 300 and 400 feet, continuing eastward to Cardenas. The streams flowing north have lowered their channels as the land rose, and the surface drained by them has become deeply dissected, while the streams flowing toward the south have been but little affected by the elevation and remain generally in very narrow channels.

East of Cardenas the general elevation of the plain is low, sloping gradually both north and south from the axis of the island. Considerable areas of this plain are found among the various mountain groups in the eastern half of Santa Clara province, beyond which it extends over the greater part of Camaguey and into Oriente. Here it reaches the northern coast between isolated mountain groups, extending as far east as Nipe Bay, and toward the south, merges into the great Cauto Valley.

From Cabo Cruz the plain extends along the northern base of the Sierra Maestra to the head of the Cauto Valley. Its elevation near Manzanillo is about 200 feet, whence it increases to 640 feet at El Cristo. In the central section of Oriente, the Cauto River and its tributaries have cut channels into this plain from 50 to 200 feet in depth. In the lower part of the valley these channels are sometimes several miles across and are occupied by alluvial flats or river bottoms. They decrease in width toward the east and in the upper part of the valley become narrow gorges.

A large part of this plain of Cuba, especially in the central provinces, is underlaid by porous limestone, through which the surface waters have found underground passages. This accounts for the fact that large areas are occasionally devoid of flowing surface streams. The rain water sinks into the ground as soon as it falls, and after flowing long distances under ground, emerges into bold springs, such as those of the Almendares that burst out of the river bank some eight miles south of the City of Havana. Engineers of the rope and cordage plant, just north of the City of Matanzas, while boring for water, found unexpectedly a swift, running river, only ten feet below the surface, that has given them an inexhaustible supply of excellent water.

Most of the plains of Cuba above indicated have been formed by the erosion of its surface, and are covered with residual soil derived from the underlying limestones. Where they consist of red or black clays they are, as a rule, exceedingly fertile. Certain portions of the plains, especially those bordering on the southern side of the mountains of Pinar del Rio, are covered with a layer of sand and gravel, washed down from the adjoining highlands, and are, as a rule, inferior in fertility to soils derived from the erosion of limestone. Similar superficial deposits are met in the vicinity of Cienfuegos, and in other sections of the island, where the plain forms a piedmont adjacent to highlands composed of silicious rocks.

The most striking and perhaps the most important fact in regard to the climate of Cuba is its freedom from those extremes of temperature which are considered prejudicial to health in any country. The difference between the mean annual temperature of winter and that of summer is only twelve degrees, or from 76 degrees to 88 degrees. Even between the coldest days of winter, when the mercury once went as low as 58 degrees, and the extreme limit of summer, registered as 92 degrees, we have a difference of only 34 degrees; and the extremes of summer are seldom noticed, since the fresh northeast trade winds coming from the Atlantic sweep across the island, carrying away with them the heated atmosphere of the interior.

The fact that the main axis of the island, with its seven hundred mile stretch of territory, extends from southeast to northwest, almost at right angles to the general direction of the wind, plays a very important part in the equability of Cuba's climate. Then again, the island is completely surrounded by oceans, the temperature of which remains constant, and this plays an important part in preventing extremes of heat or cold.

Ice, of course, cannot form, and frost is found only on the tops of the tallest mountain ranges. The few cold days during winter, when the thermometer may drop to 60 after sundown, are the advance waves of "Northers" that sweep down from the Dakotas, across Oklahoma and the great plains of Texas, eventually reaching Cuba, but only after the sting of the cold has been tempered in its passage of six hundred miles across the Gulf of Mexico.

A temperature of 60 degrees in Cuba is not agreeable to the natives, or even to those residents who once lived in northern climes. This may be due to the fact that life in the tropics has a tendency to thin the blood, and to render it less resistant to low temperature; and also because Cuban residences are largely of stone, brick or reinforced concrete, with either tile or marble floors, and have no provision whatever against cold. And, although the walls are heavy, the windows, doors and openings are many times larger than those of residences in the United States, hence the cold cannot readily be excluded as in other countries. There is said to be but one fireplace on the Island of Cuba, and that was built in the beautiful home of an American, near Guayabal, just to remind him, he said, of the country whence he came.

Again, in the matter of rainfall and its bearing on the climate of a country, Cuba is very fortunate. The rains all come in the form of showers during the summer months, from the middle of May until the end of October, and serve to purify and temper the heat of summer. On the other hand, the cooler months of winter are quite dry, and absolutely free from the chilling rains, sleets, snows, mists and dampness, that endanger the health, if not the life, of those less fortunate people who dwell in latitudes close to 40 degrees.

Cloudy, gloomy days are almost unknown in Cuba, and the sun can be depended upon to shine for at least thirty days every month, and according to the testimony of physicians nothing is better than sunshine to eliminate the germs of contagious diseases. Hence we can truthfully say that in the matter of climate and health, Cuba asks no favor of any country on earth.

CHAPTER V

For a considerable time after the last visit of Columbus, Cuba was strangely neglected by the enterprising explorers and conquistadors of Spain. Hispaniola, since known as Hayti or Santo Domingo, became the chief colony and centre of Spanish authority in the Antilles, and it for many years far outranked Cuba in interest and importance. It does not appear that for more than a dozen years after the last visit of Columbus any attempt whatever was made to colonize or to explore the great island, if indeed it was so much as voluntarily visited. Navigators doubtless frequently passed near its shores, on their way to and from Darien and the Venezuelan coast, and occasionally stress of weather on the "stormy Caribbean" or actual shipwreck compelled some to land upon it. Such involuntary landings were presumably made either in the neighborhood of the Zapata Peninsula or, still more probably, not exactly upon Cuba at all but upon the southern shore of the tributary Isle of Pines. In consequence, the voyagers carried back to Hispaniola or to Spain the not unnatural report that Cuba consisted of nothing but swamps; a report which of course did not inspire others with zeal to visit so unfavorable a place.

For a similar space of time, too, the delusion that Cuba was a part of the continent generally prevailed. It is true that on a map of Juan de la Cosa's, to which the date of 1500 is attributed, Cuba is indicated to be an island. But the date is not certain, by any means; and it is notorious that more than one early cartographer drew upon imagination as well as upon ascertained geographical facts. Somewhat more significant is the fact that Peter Martyr spoke of Cuba as an island, and said that some sailors pretended to have circumnavigated it. There is no proof, however, that this was more than rumor. What seems certain is that as late as 1508 the best authorities were ignorant whether Cuba was island or mainland, and that not until that time was the question settled.

Columbus had been succeeded in authority in Hispaniola by Francisco de Bobadilla, and the latter in turn had in 1501 given way to Nicholas de Ovando. It does not appear that Ovando sought to colonize Cuba. But he did wish to determine its extent, and whether it was insular or continental, and in a memorial to the King of Spain he broached a proposal for at least its littoral exploration. Ferdinand gave him, however, no encouragement. On the contrary, he forbade him to spend any public money on so needless and useless an enterprise. Ovando then decided to undertake the exploit at his own charge, and, according to Las Casas, commissioned Sebastian de Ocampo to explore the coasts of the country and, if he found it to be an island, to circumnavigate it. This Ocampo did, returning to Hispaniola in the fall of 1508 with the report that he had sailed completely round Cuba. On the way, he said, he had made occasional landings, and had found the whole island to be inhabited by a kindly and intelligent people, well disposed toward Spain.

Immediately following this expedition, various efforts were made to colonize Cuba, and to enter into relations with the natives. Conspicuous among these efforts was one which had for its object the introduction of Christianity into Cuba, and of which an interesting account is given by Martin Ferdinand de Enciso in his "Suma de Geografia," the first book ever published about America. Enciso, it will be remembered, was a partner of Alonzo de Ojeda, that brilliant and gallant cavalier of Spain who in 1508 was Governor of Nueva Andalusia, a region which we now know as the Caribbean coast of Colombia. It was Enciso who in 1509 went to Uraba to the relief of Francisco Pizarro, who had been in command there but who had become discouraged, had suffered heavy losses from attacks by the natives, and who was about to abandon the place. It was on one of Enciso's ships, too, that his friend Vasco Nuñez de Balboa, concealed in a cask to avoid his creditors, escaped from Hispaniola and was conveyed to Darien, thus getting his opportunity to cross the isthmus and to discover the Pacific Ocean.

Enciso relates that a Spanish vessel, cruising off the southern coast of Cuba, somewhere near Cape de la Cruz, put ashore a young mariner who had fallen ill, so that he might have a better chance to recover from his illness than he would on shipboard. The identity of this young man is not assured, though it has been strongly suggested that he was no other than Ojeda himself. However that may be, he found himself in his convalescence the guest of a native chieftain or Cacique who professed Christianity. The chief had presumably been visited by Ocampo's expedition. He had been much impressed by the prowess and culture of the Spaniards, and had desired to become affiliated with the religion which they professed and to which he attributed their superiority to the natives of Cuba. Hearing from them that they had been sent thither by the Comendador Ovando—the Governor of Hispaniola was a Comendador of the Order of Knights of Alcantara—he chose that title for his own baptismal name, and was thenceforth known as the Cacique Comendador.

Pleased to find a Christian chief, and grateful for his own restoration to health, Ojeda—if it was indeed he—erected in Comendador's house an altar and placed thereon an image of the Holy Virgin, and instructed the people to bow before it every evening and to repeat the "Ave, Maria!" and "Salve, Regina!" This was pleasing to Comendador, but offensive to the neighboring Caciques, who worshipped an idol which they called Cemi. In consequence a primitive religious war arose among the natives, in which, according to Enciso, Comendador and his followers were pretty uniformly successful. His victories were attributed to the intervention and aid of "a beautiful woman, clad in white, and carrying a wand." Finally a test was agreed upon which reminds us of Elijah's Battle of the Gods on the scathed crest of Mount Carmel. A representative warrior of each party was to be bound securely, hand and foot, and be placed in an open field for the night, and if one of them was set free from his bonds, that would be proof of the superiority of his God. "The God who looses his servant's bonds, let him be the Lord!" This was done, and guards of both parties were placed about the field, to make sure that nobody should meddle with the experiment.

At midnight, says Enciso, Cemi came to unbind his follower. But before he could reach him or touch his bonds, the Holy Virgin appeared, clad in white and bearing a wand. At her approach, Cemi incontinently fled. At a touch of her wand the bonds fell from the limbs of the Christian champion, and were added to those already on the limbs of the other man. Despite the presence of the guards, the Caciques insisted that there had been trickery, and demanded another trial, to which Comendador, confident in his faith, agreed. The result was the same as before. Still they were unconvinced, and demanded a third trial, at which they themselves would be present as watchers and guards. This also was granted, and once more the same miracle was wrought. At that the Caciques all confessed their defeat and the defeat of Cemi, and declared that the Virgin was worthy to be worshipped.

This auspicious implanting of Christianity and of good relations between the natives and the Spaniards did not, unfortunately, endure. It was interfered with by the too common cause of trouble in those days, the auri sacra fames, the accursed lust for gold. We have seen that King Ferdinand was unwilling, in his niggardliness, for money to be spent from his treasury for the exploration of Cuba. But after that work had been done at Ovando's personal cost, Ferdinand desired to reap the gains, if any there were. The suggestion was revived that Cuba might be rich in gold. The King suspected that Ovando and others were deceiving him concerning the island, and were secretly planning to secure its riches for themselves. These suspicions were materially increased by the course of Diego Columbus which, while probably quite honest, was lacking in tact and worldly wisdom. For when Diego succeeded Ovando as Governor-General or Viceroy of the Indies, at Hispaniola, one of his first acts was to commission his uncle, Bartholomew Columbus, to lead an expedition for the exploration and settlement of Cuba. That was a legitimate and indeed praiseworthy enterprise. But unfortunately Diego did not secure in advance the King's authority for it, nor did he acquaint the King with his intentions. His enemies, however, of whom he had many, were quick to report the matter to the King, putting it in the light most unfavorable to both Diego and Bartholomew; and the result was that Ferdinand at once recalled Bartholomew Columbus to Spain, and compelled Diego to select another head for the expedition.

In 1510, then, the King directed Diego Columbus to send forth his proposed expedition to Cuba, to make a careful examination of the island, to ascertain the character of its resources, and above all to determine whether it contained gold. He took pains, moreover, to impress upon Diego and through him the actual members of the expedition, the eminent desirability of cultivating the most friendly and confidential relations with the natives, both as a matter of policy and for the sake of humanity and religion. The result was the sending, early in 1511, from Hispaniola, of an expedition in which were interested if not actually implicated a number of the most conspicuous men in the Indies, and which marked the actual and permanent opening of Cuba to Spanish settlement and civilization.

Diego Columbus was the son and heir of the Great Discoverer, who under the terms of the royal compact of 1492 was to inherit all his father's powers and dignities as Admiral and Viceroy of the Western Hemisphere. For a time Ferdinand on various pretexts refused to fulfil that compact and to recognize his rights, but appointed Ovando to rule in Hispaniola in his stead. But after Diego's marriage to Doña Maria de Toledo, the daughter of the Grand Commander of Leon and the niece of the King's favorite councillor and friend, the Duke of Alba, a combination of personal, social and political influence prevailed for the vindication of his claims, and he was invested with supreme authority in place of Ovando, who was provided for elsewhere. Diego seems to have been a man of integrity and engaging character, though perhaps more idealistic than practical, and not always a match in policy for the scheming politicians by whom he was surrounded.

Bartholomew Columbus was the brother of Christopher, was intimately associated with him in his great enterprises, and was named by him Adelantado, or Lieutenant Governor, of the Indies. He too was a man of character and fine parts, bold and enterprising, and possessed of more practical worldly wisdom than either his brother or his nephew.

These two stood alone, against a numerous company of personal and political enemies, both in Hispaniola and in Spain. Indeed, as Bartholomew was recalled to Spain and was kept there for some time, Diego was left solitary to contend with or to yield to his foes. It was therefore probably through necessity that he organized the Cuban expedition largely with men hostile to him.

Miguel Pasamonte was his chief foe. He had been the secretary of Queen Isabella, and had filled important Ambassadorships, but was now the royal treasurer in Hispaniola. He had been one of the bitterest enemies of Christopher Columbus, and had transferred a full measure of hostility to Diego; and it was he who reported to the King in its most unfavorable light Diego's plans for sending Bartholomew Columbus to Cuba. In his hostility to both Christopher and Diego Columbus he was greatly aided and abetted by Juan Rodriguez de Fonseca, Bishop of Seville; who had violently quarrelled with Christopher Columbus over the fitting out of his second voyage and who also had transferred his hatred to the Admiral's son.

DIEGO VELASQUEZ

Diego Velasquez was another of the faction hostile to the Columbuses, though at first he had been a friend and companion of the Admiral. It is probable that he had no personal enmity toward Diego Columbus, but joined himself to the other faction through motives not unconnected with personal pecuniary profit. He had gone from Spain to Hispaniola with Christopher Columbus on his second voyage, and had ever since been one of the most efficient administrators in that island and indeed in all the Indies. For a time he was a military leader in campaigns against hostile natives, and afterward he became Lieutenant Governor of the island. He was a man of high ability, of singularly handsome person, of engaging manners, of much popularity, and of abundant force of character for successful leadership and command of men. He was, however, not always scrupulous in his dealings, and it was not to his moral credit that he became the richest man in all the Indies. He was a close friend and partisan of Pasamonte, and associated with him in the same alliance were the royal secretary in Hispaniola, Conchillos, and also the royal accountant, Christopher de Cuellar, who was both the cousin and father-in-law of Velasquez.

Diego Columbus, then, either through policy or through compulsion, appointed Velasquez to be his lieutenant in Cuba, and commissioned him to organize and personally to lead the intended expedition to that island. He also promised that the King would refund whatever private expenditures Velasquez and his companions should make on account of it; a promise which was authorized by the King, but not fulfilled save in the indirect way of empowering the members of the expedition to recoup themselves at the expense of the people of the island; an arrangement decidedly at variance with Ferdinand's former solicitude for good treatment for the natives. Further than that, Diego had little or nothing to do with Cuba, and in a short time Velasquez was known not as Lieutenant but as Governor, as though he were entirely independent of the Viceroy in Hispaniola.

Early in 1511 Velasquez assembled a flotilla of three or four vessels on the northwest coast of Hispaniola, at or near the place where Columbus had landed when he discovered that island and first visited it from Cuba. In the adjacent region he recruited a company of about three hundred men, and with that force set out for the conquest and colonization of Cuba. The precise date of his expedition is not to be ascertained, but it was probably in February or at latest March of that year. The place of his landing in Cuba, however, is known. It was at Baracoa, where also Columbus had landed before him. Following the practice of Columbus and the other explorers he promptly gave the place a new name of his own selection, calling it the City of Our Lady of the Assumption. There he established his seat of government and base of further operations, giving to the place in both civil and ecclesiastical affairs the technical rank and dignity of a city. But, as also frequently happened, the new name was unable to supplant the old one in popular usage; and when, in 1514, the insular capital was transferred to Santiago de Cuba, and in 1522 the cathedral of the diocese was similarly transferred, the new name was permitted to lapse, and the place became again universally known as Baracoa. Despite its vicissitudes of fortune, therefore, and its loss of its former high estate, Baracoa is entitled to the triple distinction of having been the site of the first permanent European settlement in Cuba, of the first civilized government, and of the first cathedral church.

At Baracoa, immediately upon his arrival, Velasquez built a fort, the exact site of which is now matter of conjecture, and various other edifices. These were all constructed of wood, probably of bamboo and thatch, and no trace of them remains to-day. Search was also promptly made for gold, and some seems to have been found in the beds of streams, though in no large quantities, and the attempt to operate mines was soon abandoned. Attention was then turned to further explorations and conquests, and to the quest for gold in other parts of the island.

Still more unfortunate than the failure to find much gold, and largely because of that fruitless quest, was the rise of bitter hostilities between the Spaniards and the natives. This was also a sequel to and in part a consequence of the Spanish administration in Hispaniola and particularly of the part which Velasquez had played therein. Shortly before coming to Cuba, Velasquez had waged several strenuous and probably somewhat ruthless campaigns against the natives of Hispaniola, chiefly in that part of the island which lay nearest to Cuba and in which he recruited his Cuban expedition. His chief opponent there was a native chief named Hatuey, who, finding himself unable to cope with the Spaniards, fled to Cuba with many of his followers and settled in the country near Baracoa. These refugees were of course quick to report to the natives of Cuba the cause of their migration, and to portray the conduct and character of the Spaniards, and of Velasquez personally, in the most unfavorable light. The natural result was to predispose the Cuban natives to regard the Spaniards with distrust and aversion. And when Velasquez himself presently appeared among the very people who had been thus prejudiced against him, trouble inevitably arose.

The leader in the trouble was Hatuey, who had a large following both of his own tribe from Hispaniola and also of Cubans. He had maintained a system of spying and communication through which he kept himself perfectly informed of the doings of Velasquez, whom he considered his chief foe, not only politically but personally, and when he learned that he was coming to Cuba he busied himself with preparations to resist him. He was foremost in spreading among the Cuban natives all manner of evil reports concerning the Spaniards, all of which, whether true or false, found ready credence.

Thus on one occasion, as related by Herrera, he gathered many of the natives together with a promise to reveal to them the God of the Spaniards, whom they worshipped and to whom they made human sacrifices of Indians' lives. When they were assembled and their anticipation was whetted, he placed before them a small basket filled with gold. "That," said he, "is the God which the Spaniards worship, and in quest of which they are following us hither. Let us, therefore, ourselves pay this God reverence and implore him to bid his Spanish worshippers not to harm us when they come hither!" The natives performed a religious dance and other rites about the gold, until they were exhausted, and then Hatuey further counselled them to cast the gold into the river, where the Spaniards could not find it; since if they found it they would continue their search for more, even to cutting out the hearts of the people in quest of it.

Whether true or fabricated, the story indicates the attitude of Hatuey toward the Spaniards and explains the intensity of the bitterness which prevailed between him and Velasquez. Of course, when the Spaniards arrived and immediately began to hunt for gold, Hatuey's words about their God seemed to be confirmed. War began, which soon resulted in the defeat and capture of Hatuey, who was put to death. Tradition has it that he was burned at the stake, as was the common custom in those times, and that just before the fire was lighted he was invited to accept Christianity and be baptized, but refused on the ground that he did not want to meet any Spaniards in the other world. He was succeeded in command of the hostile natives by Caguax, who had been his comrade in Hispaniola and who had come to Cuba with him; and the hostilities were continued with the usual result of conflicts between a higher and a lower civilization. In a short time the province of Maysi was conquered and partly pacified, and that of Bayamo was invaded.

PANFILO DE NARVAEZ

At this time and in these operations there appeared in Cuba two more men of commanding importance in the early history of the island, who were sent thither from Hispaniola to assist Velasquez soon after the defeat and death of Hatuey. One of these was Panfilo de Narvaez, a soldier and the leader of a company of thirty expert crossbow-men who had been serving in Jamaica but were no longer needed by the governor of that island, Esquivel. Narvaez was a native of Valladolid, Spain, near which city Velasquez also had been born. It is possible, indeed, that the two men were related, since there was a marked physical resemblance between them; both being tall, handsome, and of a pronounced blond complexion. At any rate, they had long been friends, and Velasquez was glad to make Narvaez his chief lieutenant and right-hand man. Narvaez appears to have been a man of high intelligence, honorable character, and much personal charm. He was, however, too much inclined toward fighting, was sometimes reckless in his leadership, and was no more scrupulous in his conduct toward the natives than were many other conquerors of various lands in those days of adventure and violence. At the head of a force of more than a hundred and fifty men, including a score of horsemen, he led the way in the conquest, first of Bayamo and finally of all the rest of the island. In his campaign he enjoyed immense advantage from the awe and terror which were caused among the natives by the appearance of the horses, which were the first ever seen in Cuba.

BARTHOLOMEW DE LAS CASAS

The other and more famous of these two men was Bartholomew de Las Casas, known to the world as the "Protector of the Indians" and as the "Apostle to the Indies." As a youth he had accompanied his father on Columbus's third voyage to America, and he had come to the Antilles a second time and permanently with Ovando, the Governor of Hispaniola, in 1502. In 1510 he was ordained to be a priest, and it was in that clerical capacity that he was sent over to Cuba to assist Velasquez in the conquest, pacification and settlement of the island. He appears at first to have had no important religious scruples against oppression of the natives, but joined with Velasquez and Narvaez in their sometimes ruthless policy. When the island was divided among the conquerors under the system of repartimientos, or allotments of natives as practical slaves of the Spaniards, he received and accepted without demur his encomienda or commandery, and held it for some time in partnership with his friend Pedro de Renteria. But a little later, realizing the injustice and cruelties which the natives suffered under this system, he became, as he himself described it, "converted," and thereafter was an earnest, zealous and almost fanatical champion of their rights. He visited Spain several times, to secure commissions of inquiry and other measures for their relief. Also, thinking thus to redeem them from enforced servitude, he secured royal sanction for the introduction of Negro slavery and the importation of Negro slaves into Cuba; a policy which he afterward deeply regretted.

After a brief campaign in Bayamo, which was not particularly successful, beyond the killing of Caguax and the final dispersion of the force which Hatuey had organized, Narvaez formed an expedition of perhaps five hundred men for more extended enterprises, in which he had as his principal companions Las Casas and a young nephew of Velasquez, Juan de Grijalva. The precise route of this expedition cannot now be stated. It certainly, however, traversed the Bayamo region, and went as far west as Camaguey. It also visited the neighborhood of Cape Cruz and there passed through the town of Cueyba, as Las Casas called it, where, as hitherto related, a Spanish mariner, presumably Ojeda, had landed and had established a Christian shrine with a statue of the Holy Virgin. Here and at other places amicable relations were maintained between the Spaniards and the natives.

Unhappily that was not always the rule. At the large town of Caonao, probably near Manzanillo, a number of Spanish soldiers, as if suddenly stricken with madness, began a massacre of the natives, killed a great number, and drove the rest into flight. Narvaez does not seem to have ordered nor to have taken part in the slaughter, but neither did he exert himself to prevent it or to stop it. Whereupon Las Casas, righteously wrathful, bade him to go to the Devil, and thereafter devoted himself to ministering to the sufferers and to reassuring the survivors.

From Caonao the expedition moved westward, through the southern part of the Province of Camaguey, where the natives were so frightened that they fled to the little islands off the coast which Columbus had named the Queen's Gardens. Thence it went across the island to the north coast, and probably in the region of Sagua la Grande, in Santa Clara Province, found some small deposits of gold. After stopping there for some time, it continued its progress into Havana Province, where more gold was found and where, unhappily, serious trouble with the natives was renewed.

On the way across the island Narvaez had heard of three Spaniards, a man and two women, who had been shipwrecked on the coast and were living with the Indians somewhere in the west. He sent word of this report back to Velasquez, who returned him orders to search for the castaways even in preference to gold, and who also dispatched a ship along the north coast to meet Narvaez and his party in the region to which they were going. In Santa Clara the two women were found, unharmed and well, and they presently married members of the expedition. Finally, in Havana the man also was found. He too was unharmed and well, though he had become in speech and habits more like an Indian than a Spaniard. According to his story, he and the two women were the sole survivors of a company of twenty-six. They had fled from Ojeda's ill-starred settlement at Uraba, on the Gulf of Darien, and were trying to make their way back to Hispaniola, but had been driven out of their course around the north coast of Cuba. Not far from Cape San Antonio they had been shipwrecked and thence had made their way by land, along the north coast. Most of them had been killed by natives while trying to cross an arm of the sea, which has been assumed to have been the Bay of Matanzas, which was so named on that account.

On the Havana coast the expedition met the vessel which Velasquez had sent. But leaving it in port there the expedition went across the island again to Xagua, or Cienfuegos, there to meet Velasquez himself and another expedition which he was leading, and there to spend with him the Christmas season of 1513. At the beginning of 1514 Narvaez and a hundred men returned to Havana and thence marched westward into Pinar del Rio, the vessel keeping in touch with them along the coast. How far they went in that province is not now certainly known. Some accounts have it that they stopped at Bahia Honda and there took ship back for Baracoa, while others insist that they got as far as Nombre de Dios. All that is certain is that Narvaez and his comrades visited on this expedition all parts of the island, and thus completed the nominal exploration and occupation of Cuba in the early part of 1514.

CHAPTER VI

Velasquez was for a number of years the dominant figure in Cuban history, and he much more than any other man is to be credited with the settlement of the island and its social, political and economical organization. He was married at Baracoa in the early part of 1513 to Donna Maria de Cuellar, daughter of Christopher de Cuellar, the royal treasurer in the island, but within a week was left a widower. To find solace for his grief in action, he threw himself with extraordinary energy into the work of exploring, pacifying and colonizing the island.

After founding the town of San Salvador de Bayamo he went westward, as already stated, to meet Narvaez and to spend Christmas at Xagua or Cienfuegos. Less than a month later he founded La Villa de Trinidad, and later in the year La Villa de Sancti Spiritus and, finally, Santiago de Cuba. At all of these places excepting the last named gold was found, though not in any large quantities. He was thus encouraged to continue his search for that precious metal, while at the same time he was admonished not to look too much to it for the prosperity of the Island, but to pay attention to the development of its other resources, and particularly its obvious agricultural potentialities.

Accordingly in the spring of 1514 he sent a vessel to Hispaniola for horses and cattle with which to stock Cuba, and for supplies of grain and other seeds, and agricultural implements. In the cargo which it brought back to him lay the germ of the subsequent agricultural greatness of Cuba. At about the same time, also, he founded Cuban commerce by the establishment of regular communication between the island and Jamaica, Darien and other Spanish settlements at the south. In this latter enterprise the King was especially interested, and his directions to Velasquez were that he should develop it to the largest possible extent. He did not expect Cuba ever to rival Darien and other regions in mineral wealth, but that island could, he thought, surpass them in agriculture, and thus could serve as a source of supply to them, and as a base of operations.

It was, indeed, in pursuance of this policy of commerce with the countries at the south and west of the Caribbean that Santiago de Cuba was founded as the seventh of the seven cities among which the island was partitioned, and that it was made the insular capital. The site was, as already stated, the only one at which gold was not found. It was selected partly because of the secure and commodious harbor, one of the finest anywhere on the shores of the Caribbean, and partly because its situation on the south coast made it particularly accessible to and from Jamaica, Darien and the other regions in which the Spanish crown was interested. As soon as it was founded, the seat of civil, military and ecclesiastical authority was transferred thither from Baracoa, and Santiago de Cuba became the second capital of the island. Meantime Narvaez, at the north, had founded Havana, which was destined to be the third and final capital.

Each city or town was made, however, a capital unto itself. The principle of local autonomy or home rule had long been cherished by the Spanish people in the Iberian Kingdom, and it was transplanted by them in an increased degree to their Antillean colonies. In accord with that principle, these first seven cities were planned and arranged with a view to civic self-sufficiency. The plan was uniform. Each place had its central park or plaza, upon which fronted the town hall, the parish church and the residence of the governor or the alcalde. The plan of government was also uniform. In each place Velasquez appointed an Alcalde, who was not a mayor but a judge of first instance; a Deputy Alcalde, and three regidores or councillors; the Alcalde and the regidores sitting together forming the Town Council. There were also a procurador, or public prosecutor; an alguacil, or sheriff; and one or more escribanos, or notaries public.

There was also at this time established throughout the island a social and economic system borrowed from Hispaniola, where it had not been in operation long enough for its evil effects to be demonstrated. Its intention was unquestionably benevolent, and, given a sufficiently altruistic quality of human nature, its results might have been good. With human nature what it was, it became almost unrelievedly evil. This was known as the system of Repartimiento, or Encomienda. First of all, the whole territory of the island was partitioned among the seven cities. Then in each there were appointed persons whom we might describe as land-holders and slave-holders. The former, known as vecinos, were the representatives of the king in ownership of the land, all of which was regarded as the property of the crown, to be apportioned for working to suitable loyal subjects. The latter were called encomenderos, and to them were apportioned the native population, in tutelage and servitude.

Now the fundamental evil of the system lay in the appropriation of the land. It was all taken for the crown, and the natives who had been occupying it were ipso facto transformed into squatters, or trespassers. But as the king claimed the whole area of the island, there was no other land for them to occupy; wherefore they must remain on the king's land. But if they did that, they must become his serfs. They were therefore apportioned among the land-holders; to remain in their homes and to be educated, fed and clothed and generally cared for by the latter; and in return to do a certain amount of useful work. Thus they would become civilized and Christianized, and perhaps themselves fitted to become land-holders.

It was an excellent plan, in theory; and it seemed the more likely to succeed because the Spanish colonists manifested no such caste prejudice against the natives as those of some other lands did. Thus it was an unusual thing for a French settler in North America, and a still more unusual thing for a British settler, to marry an Indian woman, and such unions, when they did occur, were generally regarded as debasing. But there was no such feeling among the Spanish, and intermarriages between the races, of an entirely legal and honorable character, were not uncommon and were not regarded with disfavor. Nevertheless, the repartimiento system soon lapsed into utter evil, as such a relationship between a superior and an inferior race seems certain to do. In brief, it became slavery, pure and simple.

The benevolent and statesmanlike spirit of Velasquez was shown, in contrast to that of most other conquistadors of that time, in the circumstance that he ordered the natives to be thus impressed into work for a period of only a single month, to be paid for their labor at a prescribed rate, and to be engaged as largely as possible in agricultural pursuits. He did not prohibit the employment of them at gold mining, but he strove earnestly to extend agricultural enterprise. This was partly, no doubt, in pursuance of the king's order, that he should make Cuba a source of food supplies for the supposedly less favored regions at Darien and elsewhere, but was partly, too, because Velasquez recognized the agricultural possibilities of Cuba and was determined to make it self-supporting. He exercised this authority, not merely as Governor General of the island, but also as Repartidor, or Partitioner of the Natives, to which office he was expressly appointed by the king, with responsibility to nobody but the king himself. He apportioned the natives in lots of from not fewer than forty to not more than three hundred, according to the land held by the vecino, and ordered that they be well treated, and of course be not sold nor transferred from one master to another.

There was, unfortunately, another class of native servitors, to wit, those taken as captives in battle in the occasional hostilities between the two races. These were by royal decree made outright and life-long slaves, subject to be bought and sold and even branded with their owners' names, like cattle. The number of these being few after the collapse of Hatuey's short-lived resistance, the practice arose of adding to their number natives from Mexico, Darien and elsewhere, who were seized and brought to Cuba as slaves. All this was declared to be illegal and was ordered abolished by a royal decree which was promulgated in Cuba in November, 1531. But long before that time the evil system had become widespread, and had involved in absolute slavery encomendado natives as well as the captives. The bad results of the system were reflected upon the masters if possible more than upon the slaves, and were felt for many years after the native population had so nearly vanished as to be no longer a factor in Cuban affairs worthy of consideration.

PONCE DE LEON

Following the establishment of these political and industrial systems, Cuban colonization made extraordinarily rapid progress. The island which for years had been neglected and all but ignored became the chief centre of Antillean interest. It drew from Hispaniola, Darien and other lands, both insular and continental, many of their best colonists, including some who afterward became famous for their achievements elsewhere. Thus, Hernando Cortez was alcalde of Santiago de Cuba. Bernal Diaz, whose honest soul revolted against the infamies of Pedrarias Davila at Darien, settled for a time at Sancti Spiritus before following Cortez to Mexico. Vasco de Figueroa was a great plantation owner at Camaguey. Las Casas was at Trinidad until he returned to Spain to begin his propaganda for the welfare of the Indians. Ponce de Leon also spent some time in Cuba, and so did La Salle. Velasquez himself was of course settled at Santiago de Cuba, with Christopher de Cuellar, the royal treasurer, and Hurtado de Isunsolo and Amador de Lares, fiscal agents of the King. At Santiago was established the royal assay office and refining works for the output of the gold mines of the island.

In brief, the island prospered greatly in all respects. The mines were rich, the plantations fertile and productive, and live stock greatly thrived. The island, according to Oviedo, became "much populated with both Christians and Indians." It appears to have been at the instance of Velasquez that its name was changed in 1515 from Juana to Fernandina, in honor of the king; an incident which added to the high regard which that monarch cherished for Velasquez, of whom he said that "no man could more wisely administer the affairs of the island." This tribute was probably deserved. But it cannot be said that Velasquez served his King for naught, or that he promoted the interests of the island to the neglect of his own, since he himself so greatly prospered that he became the richest man in all Cuba and probably in all the Antilles, and was so secure in his place that he could feel quite independent of even the Admiral himself, Diego Columbus, at Hispaniola.

A noteworthy tribute to Velasquez was paid, also, in a series of cedulas issued by the King. The first, dated December 12, 1512, thanked him for his pacification of Cuba and his tactful and humane treatment of the natives. Another, on April 8, 1513, was much to the same effect, adding the exhortation: "Because I much desire that all diligence possible be used to convert the natives of the island, I direct that you undertake this with all means possible. In nothing can you do me greater service." Five days later a third cedula formally appointed Velasquez Governor of the town and fortress of Baracoa, with a salary of 20,000 maravedis a year. After the complete organization of the insular government and industrial system, as already described, the King in a cedula of February 28, 1515, commended all that had been done, adding: "The chief recommendation I would make to you is that you have all possible care for the conversion and good treatment of the Indians of the island, and that you endeavor in every way to have them taught and indoctrinated in our Holy Catholic Faith and to have them remain in it; so that we may be without burden on our conscience regarding them and so that you may free yourself of all the obligation which you have assumed for their welfare."

It was impossible that Velasquez should, however, escape the attacks of envy and malice. Suggestions were made to the King that he was growing too rich, and that he was manipulating the affairs of the island in his own interest rather than in the interest of the royal treasury. But these were without effect, save to confirm Velasquez in royal confidence and favor. To the suggestion that a residencia or investigation be made of the administration of Velasquez and his lieutenants, the King returned an emphatic negative. In a cedula of July 7, 1515, he expressly ordered that no residencia be taken, since he was entirely satisfied with the administration of the island. This was of material advantage to Velasquez, and was also a most unusual honor; the more unusual and noteworthy when we remember that Ferdinand had developed a particularly selfish and suspicious disposition and was little inclined to give full confidence to any man.

Nor was the royal favor short lived or confined to the reign of Ferdinand. In November, 1518, another royal decree from Ferdinand's successor, Charles I, appointed Velasquez Adelantado of all lands which he personally or through his agents might discover, and endowed him with one-fifteenth part of all the revenues which might be obtained from them. At this time Velasquez was already busy with enterprises of exploration, and his efforts were redoubled under this incentive. But in so doing he suffered the same fate that he himself had inflicted upon Diego Columbus. For he sent Hernando Cortez, who had been alcalde of Santiago de Cuba, upon the expedition which resulted in the conquest of Mexico; upon achieving which transcendent exploit, Cortez repudiated him and his authority, much as Velasquez had repudiated the authority of Columbus in Hispaniola.

The year 1515 marked a turning-point in the early history of Cuba. In that year Las Casas began his great crusade in behalf of the natives. At first, as we have seen, he accepted and approved the repartimiento system, and himself with his partner and close friend Pedro de Renteria took several hundred Indians as his wards and servants on the land which had been allotted to him at Trinidad. But when he became "converted," as he himself described it, he was convinced that the system, which had degenerated into little else than slavery, was wholly evil and could be nothing else, putting all who practised it in imminent danger of hell fire. To this conviction he was brought through consideration of what he had heard Dominican friars preach in Hispaniola.

At this time his partner, Renteria, was absent, in Jamaica, and Las Casas was ignorant of his views on the subject. Moreover, he realized that the natives whom he had in his possession belonged to Renteria as much as to him, and he could not properly do anything which would be injurious to the interests of his partner. Accordingly he went to Velasquez and told him that his conscience would no longer permit him to hold slaves, and he must therefore release them; but he wished the matter held in abeyance and confidence until the return of Renteria, in order that the latter might protect his own interests as he saw fit. In addition, he passionately adjured Velasquez, for the sake of his own soul, to free all the natives and to abolish the repartimiento system. Velasquez did not follow this advice, but he continued to hold Las Casas in the highest esteem and to show him all possible favors.

Las Casas then at once began publicly preaching against the sin of slavery, and proclaiming the right of the natives to equal freedom with the Spaniards; a course which gave great offense to many in the island but in which Velasquez protected him. Then he determined to hasten at once to Spain and to lay the matter before the King, who in his various cedulas and messages to Velasquez had expressed so much concern for the welfare of the Indians. He accordingly wrote to Renteria, in Jamaica, that he was called to Spain on imperatively urgent business, and that unless he, Renteria, could return to Cuba at once, he would have to go without seeing him first, which he would regret to do. Upon receiving this letter, Renteria immediately hastened back to Cuba; and then was disclosed one of the most extraordinary coincidences in history.

The meeting of the two friends was in the presence of Velasquez and others, and nothing was said by Las Casas concerning his plans, nor did Renteria say anything about his own affairs. But as soon as they were alone together, Renteria announced that he was planning himself to go to Spain, and that he would therefore accompany Las Casas. He then explained that while in Jamaica he had gone for a time into "retreat" at a Franciscan monastery, and while thus engaged in pious meditation had become convinced that the Indians of Cuba were being very badly treated, and had resolved to go to Spain and there to plead their cause before the King, especially asking for the foundation of schools and colleges in which the Indian youth could be educated. The astonishment and delight of Las Casas at hearing this was equalled only by the similar feelings of Renteria when in turn Las Casas told him the purpose of his proposed mission to Spain. Hundreds of miles apart, and entirely unknown to each other, the two friends at precisely the same time had been cherishing the same noble purposes. It was quickly agreed between them that Las Casas alone should undertake the mission, that their native wards should be surrendered at once to Velasquez, and that their land and other property should be sold, if necessary, to provide Las Casas with the money needed for his journey. In his departure from Cuba and his journey to Spain, Las Casas was also greatly assisted by Pedro de Cordova, the head of the Dominican Order in Hispaniola.

Simultaneously with the departure of Las Casas another and very different mission was dispatched to the same goal. This was one consisting of Narvaez and Antonio Velasquez—not the Governor, Diego Velasquez—bearing a petition to the King to the effect that the repartimiento system should be transformed into one of absolute and perpetual slavery; so that the land-owners might hold their Indians permanently, and bequeath them to their heirs like any other property. That this was sent simultaneously with Las Casas's going is not to be regarded as a coincidence, however. It is altogether probable that the action was inspired by knowledge of the purpose of Las Casas and by a determination to forestall him or to defeat him.

How Ferdinand would have decided between the two, whether the impassioned eloquence of Las Casas or the gold which Narvaez and Antonio Velasquez bore with their petition, would have been the more potent, must ever remain matter of uncertainty; for he was never called upon to make the decision. Before the issue could be put to him, on January 23, 1516, he died. In the interregnum, before the arrival of the new King, Charles I, from Flanders, Cardinal Ximenes was Regent, and it was to him that Las Casas addressed himself; after he had first been scornfully received and his mission ridiculed by Bishop Fonseca, of Burgos. The great Cardinal had long been an advocate of humane treatment of the Indians, and was quite ready to listen to Las Casas, calling into council for the purpose several other prelates and statesmen. Early in the hearings, in order to make sure of his ground, Ximenes bade the clerk to read the full text of the laws relating to the Indians, and that functionary, being a partisan of the advocates of slavery, purposely misread one important clause. Las Casas cried out, "That is not the law!" Ximenes bade the clerk to read it again. He did so, with the same perversion; and again Las Casas exclaimed, "The law says no such thing!" Annoyed, Ximenes rebuked Las Casas and threatened him with a penalty if he interrupted again. "Your Lordship is welcome to send my head to the block," retorted the undaunted Las Casas, "if what the clerk has read is in the law!" Other members of the Council thereupon snatched the laws from the clerk's hand, and found that Las Casas was right, whereupon the clerk wished that he had never been born, while Las Casas, as he himself modestly records, "lost nothing of the regard which the Cardinal had for him or of the credit which he gave to him."

The result of the conferences was that Ximenes authorized Las Casas, Palacios Rubios and Antonio Montesino to prepare the draft of a plan for emancipating the Indians and providing for their just government and education. When the plan was completed and adopted there was some question as to whom it should be entrusted for execution. Ximenes invited Las Casas to nominate a commission, but the latter declined because his long absence from Spain had left him unfamiliar with men there and their qualifications. The Cardinal therefore decided to select a commission from among the monks of the Order of St. Jerome. That Order was selected because, while the Dominicans and Franciscans were already settled in Hispaniola and Jamaica and had committed themselves to a certain policy toward the Indian question, the Jeronimites had not yet gone thither and were quite without bias or predisposition.

This was on July 8, 1516. The following Sunday the Cardinal and other members of the council, and also Las Casas, went to the Jeronimite monastery, near Madrid, to attend mass and to make a selection of three Commissioners or judges from among the twelve who had been nominated by the head of the Order. There Las Casas was received with much distinction by the monks and by the Cardinal, to the chagrin of his enemy the Bishop of Burgos, who was present in the congregation. After some consideration, Ximenes then announced that Las Casas should be provided with money and letters of credit to the General of the Order at Seville, and should himself go thither and select the three Commissioners. This was immediately done, and the result was the selection of Luis de Figueroa, Prior of La Mejorada; Alonzo de Santo Domingo, Prior of Ortega; and Bernardino Manzanedo. These three were thereupon commissioned by Ximenes to proceed to Hispaniola, to take away all the Indians held by members of the Council, judges and other officers, and hold a court of impeachment upon all colonial officers, who were charged as having "lived, like Moors, without a king." They were then to consult with both the colonists and the chief men among the Indians as to the condition of the Indians and the ways and means of bettering it; so that the Indians, who had become Christians, should be set free and enabled to govern themselves. They were to assure the Indians it was the will of the Cardinal that they should be treated as free men and Christians. That Ximenes was sincere in giving these orders there can be no question. On more than one occasion he vehemently declared that the Indians were as a matter of right and should and must be as a matter of fact free men.

But all this was too late to save the Indians. Immediately upon Las Casas's departure from Cuba, treatment of the Indians there and elsewhere in the Indies became more harsh and oppressive, actually tending toward extinction of the race. Moreover, when the bearers of the petition of Narvaez and Antonio Velasquez finally got a hearing before Ximenes, they were referred to the three Commissioners, who were about to leave Spain for Hispaniola. They therefore went to see them, and succeeded, apparently, to some degree in alienating them from Las Casas and his colleagues and in prejudicing them against the Indians; to such an extent that before their departure for Hispaniola Las Casas had begun to doubt whether much real good would come from their mission. He and the three Commissioners travelled to Hispaniola on separate ships, and on their arrival in that island the three were more ready to confer with others, even with his opponents, than with him.

It is true that Cardinal Ximenes gave detailed and generally admirable directions to the Jeronimite Fathers as to the course which they were to pursue; not only toward the natives of Cuba but also toward those of the other islands and the continent. These provided that the natives were to be well treated. They were to be formed into autonomous communities of their own, under their own chiefs and owning their own land and cattle. They were to be provided with churches, schools and hospitals, and were to be converted to Christianity and educated. They were, however, to be required to work for a part of the time in the gold mines of the Spaniards, for which service they would be paid a percentage of the gold obtained. In compensation for thus being deprived of what was fast becoming the slave labor of the native islanders, the Spanish settlers of Cuba were permitted each to hold as outright slaves four or five Caribs from other islands, Negroes from Africa, or, in time, Red Indians from the North American continent. The net result was that for a time the Cuban natives were fairly well treated, though their fate was simply postponed for a few years. At the same time there was generally established in Cuba, as in most other lands of the world at that time, the hateful institution of human slavery.

CHAPTER VII

Gold mining in Cuba appears for some time to have been profitable. There was not the vast opulence of the precious metal which a little later was discovered in Peru and elsewhere on the South American continent, but there was enough greatly to encourage an influx of colonists from Spain and also from the other Antilles. Hispaniola itself was for a time almost depopulated. Nor did this multitude of settlers consist exclusively of gold-seekers. There were also many agriculturists, artificers and tradesmen, who perceived that their activities would be needed to complement the gold-mining industry.

From the same cause arose at this time an important development of the political organization of the island. Nominally, all the provincial capitals were of equal dignity. But the smelting works and assay office were at Santiago, and thither, therefore, all gold miners had to repair at intervals, to have their nuggets, dust and ore refined and its value determined. They came in the spring, just before the beginning of the rainy season. Naturally their coming thither attracted at the same time tradesmen from all parts of the island, and Santiago thus became the business and social metropolis.

Moreover, each of the other provincial capitals deemed it profitable to send to Santiago at that time an official representative of its local government. These procuradors, as they were called, came together at Santiago to exchange experiences and advice and to confer for the general welfare of their respective communities. Thus early in Cuban history were the rudiments of a representative insular legislature established; through the influence of which the various provinces were drawn together in sympathy and made uniform in administration, and the foundations of Cuban nationality were laid.

Soon, indeed, a regular organization was voluntarily formed, with the Alcalde of Santiago as presiding officer and with rules of order and a programme of procedure. As a result of each annual session of this primitive insular council an address was prepared for transmission to the King of Spain. This consisted of a report upon the condition, progress and prospects of the island, and a request for the supplying of its legislative, administrative or other needs. In the presentation of this address the insular council performed a function practically identical with that of the Spanish Cortes of that time; a body which had no legislative or other authority, but merely the privilege of protest and petition to the King. Usually a procurador representing the council was despatched to Spain, to present the address in person to the King; who was received with something of the attention and honor which were paid to important foreign ambassadors.

The first such mission from Cuba to the King was that which has already been mentioned as consisting of Panfilo de Narvaez and Antonio Velasquez. It went to Spain in July, 1515, and it bore not alone the address of the council but also the king's share of the gold that had down to that time been mined in the island. The amount of that share was more than 12,000 "pieces of eight," which we must believe was most welcome to the money-loving King. As that was supposed to be twenty per cent of the whole output of gold, but was certainly not more than that proportion, it follows that in about three years more than 60,000 pesos of gold had been taken. It is not to be wondered at that Ferdinand welcomed them cordially, and promptly granted many of their requests; those which required expenditure of cash being paid for out of the insular tribute which the envoys had brought; and that he expressed profound satisfaction, as already mentioned, with the existing government of the island.

One of the requests which these envoys bore was not, however, granted. That was, their request that the natives of Cuba be given to them in perpetuity as slaves. In consequence of the refusal to grant this, the Cuban gold-miners and planters suffered more and more from scarcity of labor, and more and more engaged in slave-hunting elsewhere to supply their needs. This pernicious traffic was resolutely opposed by Las Casas, but not with entire success. But it brought with it in a measure its own penalty. As a direct result of it there soon occurred an event mischievous to Cuba, but of transcendent interest to Spain and to all the world.

The slave-hunters naturally sought new islands, which had not yet been depopulated, and where the Jeronimite Fathers had not yet established themselves to interfere with the trade in human flesh. Accordingly in 1516 a squadron of vessels from Cuba visited the Guanajes Islands, as they had been called by Columbus when he discovered them, off the coast of Yucatan. There they took many captives, loading all the vessels with them. Leaving twenty-five men to guard their landing place on the island, the squadron returned to Cuba with the slaves. Havana was the port to which they were taken; a port which from that time forward increased rapidly in importance. Before they could all be landed, the slaves on one vessel mutinied, overpowered the crew, took possession of the vessel, and sailed back to the Yucatan islands. There the vessel was run ashore and wrecked, but the slaves escaped from it and, going ashore, exterminated the Spanish garrison which had been left there. A relief expedition was hastily sent from Havana, but it arrived too late. It found only the wreck of the ship, and no trace of the Spanish garrison. However, it looted the islands and was thus enabled to carry back to Cuba some 20,000 pesos in gold.

This had a revolutionary effect. Cubans who were becoming dissatisfied with the scarcity of slave labor and with the waning production of gold in the island, were roused by the promise of greater riches in the lands to the westward, and began to plan further adventures in that direction. In this movement the first important leader was Francisco Hernandez de Cordova, a wealthy land-holder, planter and miner of Sancti Spiritus. He with more than a hundred others equipped a squadron of three vessels, to sail westward, not, however, for slaves but for gold. One of these vessels appears to have belonged to Velasquez, the Governor, and in return for the use of it he asked that the expedition should bring him back a cargo of slaves. This Cordova indignantly refused, declaring that the slave-trade was offensive to God and man. So, at least, says Bernal Diaz del Castillo; though there are others who say that slave trading was the real object of the expedition. However that may be, the expedition set out from either Havana or Jaruco, near by, on February 8, 1517, piloted by Antonio Alaminos who, as a boy, had sailed with Columbus on his fourth voyage on which he skirted the coast of Central America. Columbus had believed that coast to be the Golden Chersonesus, a land of fabulous riches, and it was with eagerness that Alaminos guided the Cuban expedition thither.

The Mugeres Islands were the first land reached after leaving Cape San Antonio, and two days later, on March 4, 1517, they landed at Punta Catoche—a name said to have been given to it by them because of the words "con escotoch" which the natives uttered on greeting them upon their landing, words meaning "welcome to our home." All thoughts of seizing slaves were quickly abandoned when they found the natives a well clad, armed and civilized people, living in large cities, with houses and temples built of fine masonry, comparable with those of the cities of Spain. Hostilities, however, speedily arose. It does not appear whether the Spanish or the natives of Yucatan were the aggressors, but the upshot of it was that the Spanish were ambuscaded and several of them were badly wounded. The explorers persisted in their enterprise, however, and made their way along the northern coast and thence southward along the shore of the Gulf of Campeche, as far as Champoton. Hostilities with the natives increased, and nearly a third of the party perished from wounds or thirst and fever before they got back to Havana. Moreover, one ship was lost, and the other two were in so bad condition that they with difficulty were beached for repairs at Havana, while the survivors marched afoot across the island to Santiago, there to report to Velasquez the results of their expedition. It is believed that on their way back they were driven by a "norther" far out of their course, and touched the southern extremity of Florida, or at least some of its islands. Cordova himself had been so badly wounded that he was unable to go to Santiago, but made his way to his home at Sancti Spiritus, where he soon afterward died.

Immense interest was aroused in Cuba by the tales of Cordova's men, and by the appearance of the two captive Mayas of Yucatan whom they brought with them. The reports of large cities, built of stone dressed and carved and laid in mortar,—reports which were, of course, entirely true,—piqued curiosity as to the identity of the people who had built them, and the belief became widespread that they were some of the Ten Lost Tribes of Israel, or at least descendants of the Jews who were driven into exile after Vespasian's conquest of Jerusalem. Velasquez himself was foremost in interesting himself in the matter, perhaps partly with a desire to recoup the loss of his ship; and he accordingly sent his nephew Gonzalez de Guzman, of Santiago, as a messenger to the King in Spain, to tell him of these discoveries and to ask that he, Velasquez, be commissioned Adelantado of Yucatan and all other lands which he might discover.

Now we have seen how high an opinion King Ferdinand had of Velasquez; regarding him as the best possible Governor of Cuba, whose administration should not be subject even to the balancing and auditing of accounts which he elsewhere required. But Ferdinand was now dead, and the new king, Charles, knew not Velasquez, or at least not so well. Guzman pleaded the cause as strongly as he could, and so, we may assume, did Narvaez, who was still in Spain, though Antonio Velasquez had returned to Cuba. The king was not, however, to be so easily persuaded. He was not unfavorable to the ambition of Velasquez, but neither was he unhesitatingly favorable to it. Accordingly he temporized. Instead of giving Velasquez the appointment, he sent two agents, procuradors, to Hispaniola, to look into the whole matter with plenary authority. These agents, the name of one of whom marks an epoch in Cuban and in American history, were Diego de Orellano and Hernando Cortez.

Velasquez was disappointed but not deterred from prosecuting the great enterprise which he had in mind. He would not wait for the report of the procuradors and the action which the king might take upon it, but hastened his preparations for another expedition to Yucatan, which he regarded as by far the most important land of all that had thus far been discovered by the Spanish in the Western Hemisphere. The leader of the new venture was to be his nephew, Juan de Grijalva, who appears not to have been well fitted for the task. Grijalva was commissioned in January, 1518, and in the same month set out from Santiago de Cuba with a flotilla of four vessels. Sailing eastward he rounded Cape Maysi and thence proceeded north and west along the Cuban coast to what is now Matanzas, where a stop was made for repairs and supplies. Thence he went to Havana for further supplies and men, and tarried for some time, so that it was not until some time in April—some say April 5, others a much later date—that he finally set out from Cuba. He had four vessels, carrying two hundred and fifty men, among whom were several of whom the world was later to hear much; such as Bernal Diaz, and Pedro de Alvarado, who was captain of one of the vessels. The chief pilot was Antonio Alaminos, whose plan was to follow the same course that Cordova's expedition had pursued.

Upon passing Cape San Antonio, however, the little squadron fell into the grip of a "norther" which carried it somewhat out of its course, and on May 3 it first sighted land at Cozumel Island, of which Grijalva was thus the discoverer. Doubling back, the expedition followed the course of its predecessor around Punta Catoche and along the Yucatan coast to Champoton. Thence it continued westward, discovering the Tabasco and other rivers, and the great bay near Vera Cruz which still bears the name of Alvarado. How far up the Mexican coast it sailed is not altogether clear, but it certainly passed Cabo Rojo, and probably reached Tampico and the mouth of the Panuco River. Thus to two Cuban expeditions must be credited the discovery of the vast empire thereafter known as New Spain. De Solis and Pinzon had skirted a part of the coast of Yucatan in 1506 but had made no landing. Indeed, Columbus himself on his last voyage had visited some of the coastal islands, but had apparently ignored the proximity of the mainland. Cordova was the first to reach the actual coast of Yucatan and to explore a portion of that country. Grijalva in turn was the first to discover and to land in Mexico; of which country he formally claimed possession, in the name of Velasquez, for the King of Spain, it was he, too, or some member of his expedition, who gave to Mexico the name of New Spain.

In his commission Grijalva had been directed to discover and explore new lands, and to take possession of them for the King of Spain, but he was forbidden to undertake colonization of them or to make any permanent settlements. To that prohibition must be ascribed the practical failure of his expedition. He appears to have realized the desirability of making permanent settlements, but felt himself restrained by his orders. His men murmured and almost mutinied because they were not permitted to build forts, take land, and establish colonies; but Grijalva, though firm to resist them, dared not violate the orders of his uncle. However, at midsummer he sent Alvarado back with two ships, carrying the sick and wounded, and also much treasure in gold which had been obtained from the natives in barter. He likewise wrote to Velasquez, asking and indeed urging that his commission be so amended as to permit him to make permanent settlements in the lands which he had discovered.

It does not appear that Velasquez made a favorable response to this request, if indeed he made any at all. He had previously manifested his impatience to learn what Grijalva was doing and what he had found, by sending Christopher de Olid with one vessel to offer him reenforcements and supplies, if needed, and to get a report of his achievements. Off the Mexican coast, however, that expedition ran into a succession of violent storms which so discouraged and dismayed Olid that he abandoned his errand and scuttled incontinently back to Cuba without so much as communicating with Grijalva. The latter, accordingly, after spending the summer and early fall in Mexico, and despairing of receiving the increased authority which he deemed essential to the further success of his expedition, reembarked and returned to Cuba, arriving at Matanzas early in October.

There he found Olid, who had reached that port only a few days before, and who had not yet communicated with Velasquez the news of the failure of his errand. Olid's report to Velasquez, which was then promptly dispatched, contained therefore the news of Grijalva's return as well as his own. As soon as he received this, Velasquez sent word to Grijalva to come at once to Santiago and report to him in person, but to let his men remain at Matanzas, or at Havana, since he wanted them to serve in another Mexican expedition which he was already fitting out. Most of the men were willing to do this, and were accordingly maintained there at the cost of Velasquez, or of the Spanish Crown, until he was ready to use them; though a certain number expressed themselves as having had their fill of exploring and accordingly returned to their homes in various parts of Cuba.

Grijalva repaired, as summoned, to Santiago, and there met what we must regard as an unjust and unmerited fate. Velasquez expressed entire dissatisfaction with his conduct, particularly in not having planted permanent settlements in Mexico; the very thing which Grijalva had wanted to do but was forbidden by Velasquez himself to do. This extraordinary inconsistency on the part of Velasquez can probably be explained on the ground that he himself had been forbidden by the Jeronimite Fathers to plant such colonies, and did not venture to disobey them, but had hoped that Grijalva would disobey them. He further let his unhappy nephew know that, because of his failure to disobey orders, he would have no further use for him. He was sending out another expedition to Mexico, to plant permanent colonies there, but it would be under other leadership, and Grijalva would have no part in it whatever. As Grijalva had already alienated most of his men by refusing to break his orders, he was thus left friendless, and he played no further part in the history either of the Cuba which he had loyally served or of the Mexico of which he was the discoverer and first explorer.

CHAPTER VIII

The new Mexican expedition was entrusted by Velasquez to the leadership of the greatest of all the Spanish conquistadors, Hernando Cortez, then Alcalde of Santiago de Cuba. This famous man was then, in 1518, only thirty-three years of age.

HERNANDO CORTEZ He had been born in Estremadura, had survived a particularly weak and sickly childhood, and had studied law at the University of Salamanca. Leaving the University, he enlisted in the company of Nicolas de Ovando, also of Estremadura, for an expedition to America. But on the very eve of sailing he went to bid a tender farewell to his inamorata; while scaling the garden wall to reach her window he fell and had part of the wall topple upon him, and in consequence was laid abed for some time, while Ovando's expedition sailed without him. Recovering from this mishap, he passed a year or two in obscurity and poverty, and then secured passage, in 1504, for Hispaniola. His courage and prowess during a storm which threatened to swamp the vessel made him a conspicuous member of the company, and on landing at Hispaniola he was quickly taken into the good graces and the employ of both Velasquez and Ovando. Having overcome his early delicacy of constitution, he was now a stalwart, handsome youth, of engaging manners, fine education and much spirit and capacity in martial adventure; in brief, admirably fitted for the great career which he was already unconsciously confronting.

We have seen that a mishap in a love affair determined the time and circumstances of his leaving Spain for the New World. A sequel to that incident again determined his course. He had enlisted in the expedition of Diego de Nicuesa bound for Darien when from the old injury from his garden wall disaster there developed an abscess in his right knee, which again disabled him for a time and restrained him from going on that voyage. Had he gone on it, perhaps he might have become the conqueror of Peru, instead of his fellow Estremaduran, Pizarro, who was a member of Nicuesa's company, and the discoverer of the Pacific, instead of that other Estremaduran, Balboa, who went to Darien at a little later date. Instead, Cortez was detailed by Diego Columbus to go to Cuba as a secretary to Velasquez. In that capacity he acquitted himself so well that he received an extensive grant of land, together with a large number of natives as slaves, and for a time he settled down as a Cuban planter.

His adventurous spirit would not permit him permanently to engage in so placid an occupation, however, and he presently became involved in some strenuous transactions which came near to making an end of him. Precisely what happened is uncertain. Historic accounts differ. According to Benito Martinez, he made himself the leader of a faction opposed to Velasquez, and undertook to go from Cuba to Hispaniola in an open boat to carry to certain royal Judges there complaints and accusations against the Governor. As he was setting out on this venture, however, he was betrayed and arrested, was charged with fomenting a revolt against Velasquez, and was condemned to be hanged. Upon the intercession of friends, however, Velasquez commuted the sentence into exile from Cuba, and put Cortez aboard a vessel bound for Hispaniola. Soon after the vessel sailed Cortez contrived to slip overboard unperceived, caught hold of a floating log, and swam back to Cuba. There he found refuge in a church, until once more his passion for the fair sex came near to being his undoing. For one day as he was slipping out of the church to keep a love-tryst, he was seized by an alguazil named Juan Escudero, and returned to prison. Velasquez then again ordered him hanged, but again yielded to intercession, and gave Cortez his freedom. Incidentally, Cortez afterward hanged Escudero, in Mexico.

So runs one version of the story, told by Herrera and others. Gomara, Barcia and others tell quite another. It is to the effect that Cortez went to Cuba as an accountant for Miguel de Pasamonte, the royal treasurer, though he also did much business for Velasquez and was in charge of the assay office and the hospital at Santiago; and that the feud between him and Velasquez arose over a love affair. Cortez had engaged himself to marry Doña Catalina Suarez, one of the ladies in waiting upon Maria de Toledo, the consort of the Admiral and Viceroy, Diego Columbus, but either delayed to fulfil the engagement or was suspected of an intention to break it by Velasquez, who was much interested in the lady's sister. In the course of this feud, Cortez was arrested and was found to have on his person papers unfriendly to Velasquez. He escaped, and took refuge in a church. But in time he emerged from sanctuary, married Doña Catalina, and "lived happily with her ever after." He also became reconciled to Velasquez, so much that the latter stood as god-father to the first-born child of Cortez.

This latter story seems the more probable of the two, and more in accord with what we know of the characters and dispositions of both Velasquez and Cortez. Certain it is that after their disagreements and conflicts Velasquez took Cortez back into full favor, made him Alcalde of Santiago de Cuba, and selected him in preference to his own nephew, Grijalva, to be the leader of what he himself considered to be the most important of all his enterprises.

In making this choice, which was of epochal importance both to himself and to Cuba and the Spanish colonial empire, Velasquez was doubtless largely influenced by the arguments and persuasions of his own secretary, Andres de Ducro, and by the royal contador in Cuba, Amador de Lares. These two appear to have worked together, with a mutual understanding, and also with an understanding with Cortez; so that we might almost consider the three to have formed a conspiracy to prevail upon the Governor. Perhaps their chief argument, or temptation, was to promise Velasquez the royal appointment as Adelantado, not alone over Cuba but also over all other lands which he might discover, and it was shrewdly pointed out to him that if haste was made, he might secure that appointment in time to claim the enormously rich land of Mexico as part of his domain. All that would be necessary would be for him to get the appointment before the return of Grijalva with the official report of his discoveries. As this appointment was the dearest wish and ambition of Velasquez's life, it is easy to understand how potent this offer was in persuading him to make Cortez the leader of the expedition.

There was on the other hand much opposition to the choice. All of the relatives and many of the friends and counsellors of Velasquez warned him not to trust Cortez. Las Casas joined his advice with theirs, warning Velasquez, however, not so much against Cortez as against the royal contador, De Lares, and anyone whom he might favor. De Lares, he said, had lived long in Italy, a country then considered to be a very hotbed of trickery and treachery, and was doubtless deeply imbued with the spirit of conspiracy and intrigue, which he was quite likely to exercise against Velasquez himself.

Cortez was of course well aware of these conflicting influences, and for some time felt much uncertainty as to which side would prove the more powerful. He especially dreaded the return of Grijalva, fearing that either he would regain the favor of his uncle, or would give so glowing a report of the wealth of Mexico as to excite the cupidity of Velasquez to a degree that would move him to go thither in person. When he learned that Grijalva had arrived at Havana and was about to come across the island to Santiago, he pushed preparations for his departure with feverish haste, apparently determined to set out whether Velasquez approved his going or not. He borrowed large sums of money, wherever he could, for fitting out the expedition at his own expense if necessary, and in fact he did thus provide a large share of its cost. He also recruited a number of men upon whom he could depend to stand by him in any emergency; even if he should have to defy the authority of Velasquez and sail without his permission.