The inhabitants of Cuba, like those of Hispaniola, and some of the other islands, were a peaceful effeminate race, having no knowledge of the arts of war, and fearing and reverencing the Spaniards as a superior race of beings descended from above. They submitted, without opposition, to the yoke imposed upon them. It was for the most part, a bloodless conquest, yielding few laurels to the proud spirits who conducted it, but rich in the spoils of spiritual warfare to the kind-hearted and devoted Las Casas, subsequently Bishop of Chiapa, who accompanied the army in all its marches, the messenger of peace and salvation to the subjugated Indians. According to the record of this good father, the indefatigable missionary of the cross, only one chief residing on the eastern part of the island, offered any resistance to the invaders; and he was not a native, but an emigrant from Hispaniola, whence he had recently escaped, with a few followers, from the cruel oppression of their new masters, to find repose on the peaceful shores of Cuba. Alarmed and excited by the appearance of the Spanish ships approaching his new found retreat, Hatuey called his men together, and in an eloquent and animated speech, urged them to a desperate resistance, in defence of their homes and their liberty. With scornful irony, he assured them that they would not be able successfully to defend themselves, if they did not first propitiate the god of their their enemies. "Behold him here," said he, pointing to a vessel filled with gold, "behold the mighty divinity, whom the white man adores, in whose service he ravages our country, enslaves us, our wives and our children, and destroys our lives at his pleasure. Behold the god of your cruel enemies, and invoke his aid to resist them." After some slight ceremonies of invocation, in imitation of the rites of Christian worship, which they had learned from their oppressors, they cast the gold into the sea, that the Spaniards might not quarrel about it, and prepared for their defence. They fought desperately, resolved rather to die in battle, than submit to the cruel domination of the invaders. They were nearly all destroyed. The Cacique Hatuey was taken prisoner, and condemned to be burned alive, in order to strike terror into the minds of the other chiefs and their people. In vain did the benevolent missionary protest against the cruel, unchristian sacrifice. He labored diligently to convert the poor cacique to the Christian faith, urging him most affectionately to receive baptism, as the indispensable requisite for admission to heaven. His reply is one of the most eloquent and bitterly taunting invectives on record. Enquiring if the white men would go to heaven, and being answered in the affirmative, he replied—"then I will not be a christian, for I would not willingly go where I should find men so cruel." He then met his death with heroic fortitude, or rather with that stoical indifference, which is a common characteristic of the aborigines of America; preferring even a death of torture to a life of servitude, especially under the hated Spaniards, who had shown themselves as incapable of gratitude, as they were destitute of pity, and the most common principles of justice.
The army met with no further opposition. The whole island submitted quietly to their sway, and the unresisting inhabitants toiled, and died, and wasted away under the withering hand of oppression. It is probable, from all accounts, that the population, at the time of the conquest, was nearly, if not quite as great, as it is at the present time; though some of the Spanish chroniclers, to cover the cruelty of so dreadful a sacrifice, greatly reduce the estimate. Whatever were their numbers, however, they disappeared like flowers before the chilling blasts of winter. Unaccustomed to any kind of labor, they fainted under the heavy exactions of their cruel and avaricious task-masters. Diseases, hitherto unknown among them, were introduced by their intercourse with the strangers; and, in a few years, their fair and beautiful inheritance was depopulated, and left to the undisputed possession of the merciless intruders.
In four years after the subjugation, Velasques had laid the foundation of seven cities, the sites of which were so well selected, that they still remain the principal places in the colony, with the exception of Havana, which was originally located on the southern shore, near Batabano, but afterwards abandoned on account of its supposed unhealthiness. Its present site, then called the port of Carenas, was selected and occupied in 1519.
So much has been said of the impregnable strength of Havana, that I shall venture, at some risk of repetition, as well of being out of place with my remarks, to say a few words more on that point. The position of the Moro, the Cabañas, and the fortress on the opposite eminence, has been sufficiently illustrated. I know not that any thing could be added to these fortifications, to make them more perfect, in any respect, than they are. They confer upon Havana a just claim to be called, as it has been, "The Gibraltar of America." In effecting this, nature has combined with art, in a beautiful and masterly manner, so that the stranger is struck, at the first glance, with the immense strength of the place, and the thought of surprising or storming it, would seem to be little short of madness.
But let it be remembered that the impregnable Gibraltar was successfully attacked, and is now in possession of the conquerors. The inaccessible heights of Abraham were scaled in a night, and Quebec still remains to show what seeming impossibilities courage and skill united can achieve.
With the exception of the Moro, all the great fortifications at Havana, are of comparatively recent construction. They have been erected since the memorable seige of 1762, when, after one of the most desperate and sanguinary conflicts on record, the English fleet and army succeeded in capturing the city. The Spaniards say, that the final and successful sortie was made in the afternoon, while their generals was taking their siesta—a cover for the shame of defeat, about as transparent as that of the Roman sentinels at the tomb of Christ, whom the wily priests induced to declare, that "his disciples stole him away while they slept." There is no question, however, that, notwithstanding the great strength of this place, and its entire safety from any attack by sea, it could be assailed with effect, by the landing of efficient forces in the rear, in the same manner as these other places, just mentioned, were taken, and as the French have recently succeeded in capturing Algiers.