AN OLD SOLDIER'S EXPERIENCE.
William Ewing, of Buffalo, New York, served in the Seventeenth United States infantry all through the civil war, and is a member of the G. A. R. He went to Cuba, and invested $7,000, all the money he had, in a sugar plantation, and with his wife and daughter and his brother-in-law, William Hamilton, he took up his abode on the island.
Finally, owing to the unsettled conditions resulting from the war, he sent his family back to the United States, and joined the insurgent army. His brother-in-law also espoused the Cuban cause, and was killed in battle. Discouraged by his reverses, he decided to return to his native land, and made his escape from the island by boarding a blockade runner, which landed him at Atlantic City, from where he walked to New York. Grand Army comrades gave him food and shelter, and assisted him to reach his family. This man has a personal interest in the success of the cause, for when that time comes he hopes to regain possession of his property.
THE CASE OF PEDRO CASANOVA.
Pedro Casanova, a citizen of the United States, resided near the little railway station of San Miguel de Jaruca with his family, which consists of his wife and three children and his nephew, the latter born in the United States. He told the story of his wrongs at the hands of the Spaniards to a representative of the New York Herald in the following words:
"I have suffered great outrages from the Spanish soldiers. The soldiers recently passed on the road, and my wife called my attention to the fact that they had broken into a vacant house where valuable property was stored, and were pulling things in pieces. Just then I saw two officers coming toward the house. I was very glad, and went out to meet them, and invited them to enter the house and refresh themselves. They accepted, and said they liked coffee. While they were drinking, one or two soldiers came and spoke to the captain, who asked me, 'Who are the men in the sugar house?' 'My employes,' I replied, 'including one engineer. The others are engaged in repairs.'
"The captain said: 'I hear rebels are hidden there. I must take the men before the major for examination; the major himself will be here to-morrow.'
"After he left I found the door of the house on the hill broken open. A quantity of bottled beer had been taken, also my saddles and bridles, and many other things. Gloves and other articles of woman's apparel were tossed in the yard. I went to the station. The drug store looked as if it had been visited by a mad bull. All the shelves and drawers were thrown out and smashed. An empty store opposite was in the same condition. The counter was thrown down and the door posts hacked by machetes. The large coffee mill was broken, and all was in disorder. An account of this work was what the soldiers had whispered to the captain. The officer had remarked to me with a sneer: 'The insurgents are very kind to you, as no harm has been done here.'
"I was surprised on the following Wednesday morning to hear shots as of several volleys of musketry. About three hundred soldiers— infantry and cavalry—were, in fact, outside, having surrounded my house. More soon appeared under command of Captain Cerezo Martinez. In most brutal and vulgar terms he ordered all in the house to go outside. The soldiers rushed in and dragged me out by the coat collar. My wife, with her baby, was taken out, a rifle being pointed at her breast. Eleutrie Zanabria, a negro servant, who was badly frightened, tried to hide. He was pulled to the front, and before my eyes a soldier struck him a heavy blow with his machete, cutting him deep in the head and arm, leaving a pool of blood on the floor. The wound was serious.
"An order was then given to take into custody all men on the estate. Near a tree beyond the hill, one hundred yards from the house, I stopped, about forty paces from the others, to talk to the captain, who had been at the house the week before. At that moment a young negro, Manuel Febels, made a dash to escape. Some cavalrymen rushed after him, firing. He fell, and they mutilated his body, taking out his eyes. The officer, enraged at the negro's flight, pulled out his sabre, and shouted to the others of the party: 'Get down on your knees!' They obeyed and he had them bound and kept in that position a quarter of an hour.