"A little, sir."
"Then take the reins, sir!"
Into the carriage then we got, to the great satisfaction of the groom, who had guessed rather than understood the misgivings of the French admiral in the cocked hat. At first, things went pretty well. The groom showed me the way to Spanish Town, saying "left" or "right" as the case might be, when, presently we came to a great market crowded with negresses with blue cotton stuffs twisted round their haunches, all screaming at the top of their voices. The horses in our phaeton took fright at the noise, their alarm communicated itself to the negresses, who ran away, upsetting everything. I lost command of the horses, which swerved to one side, knocking over the heaps of gourds and water melons and bananas. There was a terrible scene of confusion. The admiral clung on with both hands, never stopping shouting "Oh the devil! the devil! the devil!" However we got through without any serious accident. On the return journey, conscious of my own incapacity, I offered to give up my place as whip to the admiral, but he refused with a most determined "No, no, no; oh NO!"
At the time of my visit, Jamaica was still celebrated for its rum, and my father had charged me not to forget to bring him a barrel, a commission I did not fail to execute. But a lamentable accident happened in connection with that same barrel. It was brought back to France and duly placed in the cellars at Neuilly, and had been forgotten for ever so long, when one fine day the King, recollecting it, ordered some of the contents to be handed round at the end of dinner. All the guests smacked their lips before-hand; but disappointment awaited them, and the first taste was followed by a general grimace of horror. It was simply beastly. Enquiries were set on foot and here is their result! A distinguished mental specialist, who had been ordered to take a sea voyage for the benefit of his health, which had broken down, had got leave from the Minister for Naval Affairs to sail on board the Hercule. Deeply interested as he was in his own special subject, he had occupied himself during all our stays in port in collecting brains, both human and animal, which he immediately labelled and shut up in a barrel of alcohol, which was exactly like my barrel of rum. The two barrels had got mixed and my father and his guests had been drinking rum flavoured with brains!
Our squadron dispersed on leaving Jamaica. The admiral, I think, was to go to San Domingo, we ourselves to Havana. One of our ships, a beautiful despatch boat, the Fabert, bore us company the first day. In the evening, the weather being calm, her commander, a lieutenant, M. de Pardeillan, came on board us to dine. Little did we think, as we accompanied him to the head of the companion, that we were bidding him an eternal farewell. The ship, the crew, and their young captain all disappeared, and have never been heard of again. The sea swallowed them all up, and the sea has kept the secret.
As we entered Havana, I was struck by the sight of a whole fleet of strange-looking ships which lay at anchor under the Morro citadel. They were long boats, built for speed, with immense sloping spars, like racing yachts. They were not warships, though they were heavily armed. They were slavers, for the negro trade was still in full swing in Cuba. The demand for black labour being constantly on the increase, the slavers went to fetch it from Africa, and brought it back at all risks, in spite of the British cruisers. But this importation of black cattle, which had been humane and kindly enough while it was free, had grown frightfully barbarous since the successful landing of each cargo had been exposed to every chance imaginable. The trade, nevertheless, fed the extraordinary prosperity of the fair Spanish colony, Queen of the Antilles, and especially that of her capital town, the Havana. The stir in the port itself was prodigious, and how shall I describe the animated appearance of the streets, the splendid houses, and the innumerable churches that met my gaze, and the evidence of luxury betrayed everywhere, and by everything I saw?
In the days of his wandering exile, my father had sojourned at Havana, and my first care was to seek out the friends he had left behind him there. Thanks to them, I soon found myself at home, in the Montalvo, Penalver, Arminteros, Arastegui, O'Reilly and de Arcos families, whose charming companionship formed the chief delight of my own stay. My cousinship with the Queen of Spain caused me to be received with great honour, also, by the authorities, especially by the Captain General, Espeieta. A review was arranged for me on the Paseo Tacon, and of that same review I have an undying recollection. Let my readers imagine a line formed by the Espana, Barcelona and Habana regiments, the artillery, and a lancer regiment, splendid troops all of them, under the command of General Count de Mirasol, with his baton slung at his buttonhole. And, facing this line, another of the most exquisitely charming aspect. All the volantes in Havana drawn up in battle array! The said volantes, peculiar to the place, are gigs without hoods or aprons, perched on two huge wheels, and each drawn by one horse in silver-mounted trappings, ridden by a calassero or negro postilion in flaming livery, laced on every seam. In each volante two ladies lounged, in evening dress, low-necked, bare-headed, and armed with fans. Every pretty woman in Havana was there, talking to the occupiers of the next carriage, looking on and being looked at, and all under a lovely tropical sunset, which lighted up the sea, whence a soft refreshing breeze was blowing, on one side, and on the other a forest of cocoa palms with the fortress of Principe rising above them. The ensemble of the picture and its details were alike charming, and to us sailors, just off the sea, it was heightened by contrast. These Havana ladies add all the charm of Spaniards to a mingling of Creole indifference with the confidence of well-born women. Their eyes and complexions are magnificent, their wrists and ankles exquisitely delicate, and their feet! I never saw anything like them—the feet of a Chinese woman, only natural, not produced by torture, I brought away a precious souvenir from Havana, in the shape of a shoe which I knew to be genuine, but which never met with anything but incredulity till the sacking of the Tuileries in 1884 bereft me of it altogether.
I remember yet a beautiful excursion in the interior of the island, partly by rail, partly by volante, along splendid avenues of palmettos, and thick shady mango trees, to the country house belonging to Dona Matilda de Casa Calvo, Marquise de Arcos, where I spent two days in the pleasantest of company, and where Lord Clarence Paget, who was of the party, astonished us by his talent as a singer. Our delightful stay in port was brought to a close by a ball given to me by the town of Havana at the Societad Philarmonica. I had just been dancing that pretty dance, a sort of slow valse, which is called the Habanera, and I was walking with my partner, a beautiful Spanish Mexican, with tiny feet, under the arcades which ran round the patio, when she pulled a straw-covered cigarette out of her pocket and lighted it. "Don't you smoke?" she enquired.
"No, Mademoiselle."
"Oh, but yes, I'm sure you will smoke," and she took her cigarette from her pretty lips and gave it to me to smoke, which I did without hesitation. That sudden conversion has been a durable one. But I have often regretted that I could not begin it all over again!