Cuba: Its Past, Present, and Future

A. D. HALL
NEW YORK STREET & SMITH, Publishers 81 Fulton Street

Copyrighted 1898 By Street & Smith.



The goodliest land that eye ever saw, the sweetest thing in the world.
Such was Columbus' opinion of Cuba, just after he first beheld it, and, after the lapse of four hundred years, the words, making due allowance for the hyperbole of enthusiasm, still hold good. And this, too, in spite of all the trials and tribulations which the fair Pearl of the Antilles has been forced to undergo at the hands of her greedy and inhuman masters.
The eyes of all the world are now upon this indescribably beautiful and fertile country. Like Andromeda, she has been shuddering and gasping in the power of a monster, but at last a Perseus has come to her rescue. Somewhat tardily perhaps the United States, united now in every meaning of the word, has from pure philanthropy embraced her cause—the United States whose watchword, with a sturdy hatred of the oppressor, has ever been and always will be freedom. The star of hope, symbolized by the lone star upon the Cuban flag, and so long concealed by gloomy, threatening clouds, is now shining clear and bright; and all civilization is waiting with happy confidence for the day, God willing not far distant, when Cuba Libre shall be not only an article of creed, but an established fact.
The island of Cuba, the largest and richest of the West Indian Islands, and up to the present the most important of Spain's colonial possessions, not so vast as they once were but still of no inconsiderable value, was discovered by Columbus during his first voyage to the far west.
For many centuries, even back to the time of Solomon, the chief object of explorers had been a discovery of a passage to India and the fabulous wealth of the East. In the thirteenth century, Marco Polo, the famous Venetian explorer, went far beyond any of his predecessors and succeeded in reaching Pekin. He also heard of another empire which was called Zipangri, the same that we now know as Japan. When he returned and published what we are sorry to say was none too veracious an account, Polo being only too ready to draw upon his imagination, other nations were fired by emulation.