"What is exactly the trouble in Cuba between the gentlemen and the ladies I never have been able to quite understand. The men are polished and gentlemanly, as a general thing—sufficiently intelligent, apparently; while the ladies are dignified and pretty. And yet I have never seen that appearance of easy and pleasant intercourse between the sexes which makes our society so charming.
"I am inclined to believe that it is the fault of custom, in a great degree, which surrounds women in Cuba with etiquette, iron bars and formality. This would seem to apply to the natives only, for nothing can be kinder, more friendly and courteous than the manners of the Cuban ladies to strangers, at least, judging from what is seen. It may be as a lady with whom I was arguing the point said: 'It is very different with strangers, Senor, and particularly with the Americans, who are celebrated for their chivalric gallantry to ladies.' Now I call that a very pretty national compliment.
"Taking the arm of my friend, we walk up and down to see, as he expresses it, 'who there is to be presented to,' and faith, if beauty is to be the test, it would seem to be a hard matter to make up one's mind, there is so much of it, but after a turn or two around the room, this form is gone through with, and one begins to feel at home and ready to enjoy one's self.
"When one finds ladies (and there are numbers) who have been educated abroad, either in the United States or Europe, he finds them highly accomplished and entertaining. Several that I had the pleasure of meeting on this and other occasions spoke French perfectly, some English, and one or two both of these in addition to their native tongue.
"But let us return to the ball, which is all the time going on with great eclat. It opens with the advent upon the stage of a dozen or more young men, under the direction of a leader, in some fancy costume very handsomely made, who, after making their bow to the audience, go through some novel kind of a dance. The performers take this means of filling up the intervals of the general dance, and amusing the audience.
"It is now getting late, and the rooms are terribly warm. The fans of the long rows of lovely sitters, who have not moved out of their places the whole evening, keep up a constant flutter, and one begins to sigh for a breath of fresh air, and relief from the discomforts of a full dress suit. But the grand affair of the evening is yet to come off, we are told, so we linger on, and are finally rewarded by the grand ceremony of the 'Pinata,' from which the ball takes its name. This word I can hardly give the meaning of as applied to this ceremony, which consists in having pendent from the ceiling a form of ribbands and flowers, the ribbands numbered and hanging from the flowery the rights to pull which are drawn like prizes in a lottery. Of these ribbands, one is fastened to a beautiful crown of flowers, which, when the ribband to which it is attached is pulled, falls into the hands of the lucky person, who has the privilege of crowning any lady he may deem worthy of the honor 'Queen of the Ball,' to whom every one is obliged to yield obedience, homage, and admiration. There is, also, the same opportunity afforded to the ladies to crown a king. The whole ceremony is pretty, and creates much merriment and amusement.
"This ceremony over, at midnight we sally out into the open air. But what a sight greets us there! Lights blaze in such profusion that it seems more than day. Music and dancing are everywhere. Songs and mirth have taken complete possession of the place, while people of all ages, sexes and colors are mixed together, in what seems inextricable confusion, intent upon having a good time in the open air while their masters and betters are doing the same thing under cover. This is a carnival sight indeed, and only to be seen in a tropical clime."
GUANTANAMO, THE HOME OF THE PIRATES.
Approaching Cuba as Columbus did—across the narrow stretch of sea from San Domingo—you first sight the long, low promontory of the eastern tip, which the discoverer named Point Maysi. So different is the prospect from that seen at the other end of the island, as you come down in the usual route from New York or Florida, that you can hardly believe it is the same small country. From Maysi Point the land rises in sharp terraces, backed by high hills and higher mountains, all so vague in mist and cloud that you do not know where land ends and sky begins. Coming nearer, gray ridges are evolved, which look like cowled monks peering over each other's shoulders, with here and there a majestic peak towering far above his fellows—like the Pico Turquino, 11,000 feet above the sea. Sailing westward along this south shore, the "Queen of the Antilles" looks desolate and forbidding, as compared to other portions of the West Indies; a panorama, of wild heights and sterile shores, and surge-beaten cliffs covered with screaming sea birds. At rare intervals an opening in the rock-bound coast betrays a tiny harbor, bordered by cocoa palms, so guarded and concealed by hills, and its sudden revelation, when close upon it, astonishes you as it did the first explorer.
According to tradition, everyone of these was once a pirate's lair, in the good old days we read about, when "long, low, suspicious-looking craft, with raking masts," used to steal out from sheltered coves to plunder the unwary. Each little bay, whose existence was unknown to honest mariners, has a high wooded point near its entrance, where the sea robbers kept perpetual watch for passing merchantmen and treasure-laden galleons, their own swift-sailing vessels safe out of sight within the cove; and then, at a given signal out they would dart upon the unsuspecting prey like a spider from his web. Among the most notorious piratical rendezvous was Gauntanamo, which our warships are said to have shelled two or three times of late. In recent years its narrow bay, branching far inland like a river, has become of considerable consequence, by reason of a railway which connects it with Santiago, and also because the patriot army, hidden in the nearby mountains, have entertained hopes of overcoming the Spanish garrison and making it a base for receiving outside assistance. Before the war there were extensive sugar plantations in this city, now all devastated. The Cobre mountains, looming darkly against the horizon, are the great copper and iron range of Cuba, said to contain untold mineral wealth, waiting to be developed by Yankee enterprise. In earlier days $4,000,000 a year was the average value of Cuba's copper and iron exports; but in 1867 6,000,000 tons were taken out in less than ten months. Then Spain put her foot in it, as usual. Not content with the lion's share, which she had always realized in exorbitant taxes on the product, she increased the excise charges to such an extent as to kill the industry outright. For a long time afterward the ore lay undisturbed in the Cobre "pockets," until the attention of Americans was turned this way. Their first iron and copper claims in these mountains were recognized by the Cuban government about seventeen years ago. Three Yankee corporations have developed rich tracts of mining territory hereabouts, built railways from the coast to their works on the hills and exported, ore to the United States. The oldest of these companies employed 2,000 men, and had 1,600 cars and a fleet of twenty steamers for the transportation of its output. The Carnegie Company, whose product was shipped to Philadelphia, also employed upwards of a thousand men.