CHAPTER VIII.

THE CUBANS.

I am often asked, "How did you get along with the Cubans?" very much as inquiry might be made as to how we got along with the Apaches, or with the Modocs; and one man said, decidedly, "I think I might like Cuba, but I could never stand those Cubans." He had never seen a Cuban, I believe.

We got along with the Cubans very well indeed, much better than with some of our neighbors in the States. Judging from our experience with the inhabitants of the province of Puerto Principe, there are no better people on the face of the earth to "get along with" than the Cubans. We found them, almost without exception, courteous, social, kind, hospitable, and honest. Indeed, it sometimes seemed as if there was nothing they would not do for us that lay within their power. They appeared to appreciate kind and fair treatment, and to be eager to return the same to us. Those we came in contact with were mainly of the humbler classes, but we saw nothing to indicate that those higher in the social scale were less friendly and considerate. The Cubans we met seemed to like the Americans, and the colonists certainly reciprocated the feeling. After a residence of nearly a year among them, Hon. Peter E. Park emphatically declared that there was as little meanness in the Cubans as in any class of people he had ever fallen in with, and many other Americans in La Gloria echoed this sentiment.

I can easily conceive that under abuse the Cubans would exhibit some very disagreeable and dangerous qualities, but what people of spirit does not under such circumstances? Self-control is not a marked characteristic of the Cuban, and he is apt to revenge himself upon his enemy in any way he can at the earliest opportunity. But with kind and just treatment, he is your friend, and very good friends we found these Cubans--we of the colony at La Gloria. Among themselves they are an easy-going, good-natured, talkative people, and they display these same qualities to foreigners who approach them rightly. Rude they never are, but they sometimes show a childish sullenness when offended. Strong in their likes and dislikes, they often exhibit no little devotion to those whom they esteem or respect, and I believe them to be quite as reliable and trustworthy as the average among the inhabitants of the tropics. I have heard it said that the Cubans of some of the other provinces do not compare favorably with those of Puerto Principe, which may be true; yet I cannot help thinking that the race as a whole has been much maligned. Under a strong, just government I believe they would prove to be excellent citizens, but I do not expect that they will soon develop much administrative ability.

Some writers and travelers have done the Cubans justice, but many obviously have not. The soldiers of the United States army have an unconcealed dislike for them, which the Cubans, naturally enough, ardently reciprocate. Perhaps the soldiers expect too much homage from a people upon whom they feel they conferred the priceless boon of liberty. At all events, in many cases where there has been bad blood between the two, it is easy to believe that the soldiers were the most to blame, for the Cubans as we met them were anything but aggressive. Many a Yankee could take lessons of them in the noble art of minding one's own business.

So much for the character of the Cubans. Less can be said for their style of living, which in the rural districts and some parts of the cities is primitive to the verge of squalor. In the country around La Gloria it was no uncommon thing to find a Cuban who owned hundreds or thousands of acres of land--most of it uncultivated, to be sure--living in a small, palm-thatched hut with no other floor than the hard red soil. The house would be furnished in the scantiest way, a rude wooden table, a few chairs, and perhaps a rough bench or two. Often there would be no beds other than hammocks, no stoves, and sometimes not even a fireplace of any description. The meals, such as they were, would be cooked in the open front of the shack over a fire usually built on the ground. Occasionally the enclosed room which formed the rear of the shack would have an uneven board floor, but there were never any carpets or rugs, or even a matting of any sort. Of course there was no paint or varnish, and very little color about the place save the brown of the dry thatch on the roof and the brick-red grime from the soil which colored, or discolored, everything it came in contact with like a pigment. This red stain was astonishingly in evidence everywhere. It was to be seen upon the poles which supported the hut, on all of the furniture, upon the clothing of the inmates, and even upon their persons. It looked like red paint, and evidently was about as hard to get off. The huge wheels of the bullock carts seemed to be painted with it, and the mahogany and cedar logs hauled out of the forest took on the color. In a walking trip to the city of Puerto Principe I passed through a region about twenty miles from La Gloria where nearly all the trees along the road were colored as evenly for about two feet from the ground as if their trunks had been carefully painted red. My companions and I pondered over this matter for some time and finally arrived at the opinion that wild hogs, or possibly a large drove of domesticated swine, had rolled in the red dust of the highway and then rubbed up against the neighboring trees. They were colored to about the height of a hog's back. This seemed to be the only reasonable explanation, and is undoubtedly the true one. This region was close to the Cubitas mountains, where the Cuban insurgents long had their capital and kept their cattle to supply the army in the field; it may be that they had also large droves of hogs which roamed through the near-by country.

The Cuban homes as I found them in the rural districts around La Gloria were not ornamented with books and pictures. Sometimes, to be sure, there would be a few lithographs tacked up, and I had reason to believe that the houses were not wholly destitute of books, but they were never in evidence. The things that were always in evidence were children, chickens, and dogs, and often pigs and goats. There was a democracy about the domestic economy of the household that must have been highly flattering to the chickens, dogs, pigs, etc. They always had all the rights and privileges that the children or even the adults had. I have seen a two-year-old child and a cat eating contentedly out of the same dish.

But if the children were always in evidence, their clothing oftentimes was not. Nothing is more common in Cuba than to see young children in unabashed nakedness. Their nudity is complete, and their unconsciousness absolute. In nature's garb they toddle along some of the streets of the cities, and in the rural districts they may be seen in the same condition in and around their humble homes. Naked babies lie kicking in hammocks or more quietly in their mothers' arms, and naked children run about at play. I once stopped at a shack to get coffee, and while waiting in the open front of the "casa" for its preparation, was surrounded by a bevy of bright little children who had neglected to put on their clothes. At last it seemed to occur to a pretty four-year-old girl that she was not properly attired for company, so she sat down on the dirt floor and pulled on a slipper! She appeared somewhat disturbed at not being able to find its mate, and hunted quite a while for it, but finally gave up the search and accepted the situation, evidently concluding that a single shoe was clothing enough in which to receive even such distinguished guests as "Americanos." With the adult members of the family, also, this nakedness of the children passes as a matter of course. The climate is so mild that clothing is not demanded, but I caught myself wondering if insects never bite Cubans.

The Cubans are rather an abstemious people. They care little for their food and are not given to excessive drinking. Those in the country around La Gloria lived chiefly on pork, stewed beans, rice, and boniatos (sweet potatoes). It is a mistaken idea that they do not eat much meat; they eat a great deal of pork in all forms, and seem to be equally fond of wild hog and the domesticated animal. As a matter of fact, there is small difference between the two. Both are "razor backs", and have practically no fat on them. The flesh tastes about as much like beef as it does like the fatted pork of New England swine. The Cubans keep a good deal of poultry, but from personal observation I cannot say that they eat much of it. The hens and the eggs are small, but the former sell for one dollar apiece and the latter for about forty cents a dozen. The Cubans in the rural parts of the province of Puerto Principe eat very little beef, but this may be because it is not easy to get it, while lamb and mutton are unheard of. The Cubans make excellent coffee of their own raising, which they invariably drink without milk. Coffee alone forms the early breakfast, the substantial breakfast being at ten o'clock, and the dinner (la comida) at three or four o'clock. There is nothing to eat after this, but there may be coffee in the evening. In fact, the Cubans are liable to drink coffee at any hour of the day, and they always wind up their two regular meals with it. They are fond of sweets, particularly a sort of preserved orange (dulce naranja). It may be that they eat fresh fruit, but when I do not know, for I never saw a Cuban eating an orange, a banana, or a pineapple. These they sold to us at rather excessive prices. The Cubans nearly all drink, but very little at a time, and rarely get drunk. Their favorite drinks are wine, rum, and brandy (aguardiente). In a holiday week in the city of Puerto Principe, the only two men I saw intoxicated were Americans. One was a soldier, the other a camp follower.

The Cubans of the rural districts did not appear to be religious, although there was apt to be a rude wooden cross fixed in the ground in front of their dwellings, possibly with a superstitious idea of thus averting evil. These crosses were nothing more than a slender pole, eight or ten feet high, stripped of its bark, with a cross piece near the top. They were dry and weather beaten, and looked more like a roost for birds than a religious emblem. Smaller wooden crosses were to be found in the little graveyards that we occasionally came upon. These seldom contained more than two or three graves, which were unmarked by any visible name or inscription. In the villages there were, of course, larger cemeteries, but the country I am writing of was very sparsely settled, averaging scarcely more than one or two families to the square mile.

The natives appeared to have very few amusements. They hunted somewhat, and in the villages and cities had occasional dances of rather a weird character. They had cock fights, too, I suppose, but these did not seem to be a feature of the country life about us. The rural Cuban spends much of his time in riding about the country on his patient and intelligent pony, buying supplies and disposing of his small produce. When they till their land is a mystery, for they never seem to be at work upon it. In fact, very little was tilled at all in the region about La Gloria. It was no uncommon thing to find a man owning hundreds of acres, with less than one acre under cultivation. This condition was usually explained by the statement that everything had been killed out during the Ten Years' War, and that the natives were too poor to again put their land under cultivation. This was a half-truth, at least, but Cuban indifference must have had something to do with it. One of the La Gloria colonists once asked an intelligent and good-appearing elderly Cuban why he did not cultivate more of his land. "What is the use?" was the reply. "When I need money I pick off some bananas and sell them. I get for them twenty or twenty-five dollars, which lasts me a long time. When I need more money, I pick more bananas." This is the common Cuban view. His natural indifference, combined with the exactions of Spanish government, has kept his mind free from any thought of making provision for the future.

The reader should bear in mind that I have been describing the people of the province of Puerto Principe, and mainly of the rural portions thereof. I am well aware that in the more thickly settled and more prosperous provinces fine country houses are sometimes to be found, and the people generally may live somewhat differently and perhaps better, but I believe I have faithfully pictured the typical Cuban as he exists to-day in the country districts of Puerto Principe, the fertile and unfortunate province which has probably suffered more from the ravages of war in the last thirty years than any other province in the island. It was completely despoiled during the Ten Years' War, and has never recovered. Its deserted plantations are now being reclaimed, largely by Americans, and ere long will blossom forth with luscious fruits and other valuable products.

The slight acquaintance which I had with the Cubans of the cities of Puerto Principe and Nuevitas led me to the belief that they did not differ greatly from the more intelligent inhabitants of the country sections. Among the half hundred Cubans who worked for the company and occupied a camp at La Gloria, were many from the cities of the province, the others coming from small towns and villages. Most of them had served in the Cuban army--the "Army of Liberation", as it was called. Though these men had but few comforts, they appeared to be happy and contented; they were almost invariably peaceable and good-humored. The Americans liked these "Cú-bi-ans"--as some of the colonists persisted in calling them--and entire harmony prevailed. It was amusing to me when we first arrived to hear some of the Western colonists inadvertently speak of them as "the Indians", owing, I suppose, to their primitive mode of living. Columbus called them by the same name when, on the 28th of October, 1492, he landed on the island at a point not twenty miles from what is now Port La Gloria,--but within the last four hundred years the appellation of "Cuban" has become well known throughout the world. The Cubans must work out their own destiny, but I am satisfied that they will steadily progress in the scale of civilization.