The city prison is situated about ten minutes' walk from this spot, and is a very large, two-storied building, resembling a palace more than a jail. On introducing myself, and presenting a card from the adjutant-general, I was very politely received by Signor Jose Gramaren y Voreye, chief of the prisons of the Isle of Cuba. The interior of the prison is entirely unlike anything of the sort in the United States. The prisoners, about two hundred in number, committed for political and criminal offences, are confined in large, unfurnished rooms, whose floors are of stone, and whose only ornaments are iron posts and chains. Sad-looking, half-naked creatures stared at me in silence as I entered, and then resumed their walks and conversation. Separate wards were reserved for the Chinese and Negro offenders, and a large, neat chapel, where Mass was celebrated every Sunday, was at hand for the accommodation of all. The prison is situated in the new part of the city, on a magnificent, wide street, lined with trees. This carries you directly to one of the most superb promenades and drives in the town—viz: the Parque de Isabella 2d. Here the wealth and beauty of Havana turn out, especially in the evenings, to take the fresh air, and exhibit themselves in splendid carriages behind prancing steeds. The finest theatres and hotels of the city are in this neighborhood, and the scene towards evening becomes quite fairy-like owing to the multitudes of lights that fall on statues, fountains, gay promenaders, flowers and palms, which stretch away for an immense distance. Here soldiers, sailors and civilians mingle, now walking, now resting on iron seats near flowery bowers. Members of the municipal police go by, dressed in dark uniforms, carrying swords, whistles and batons. Some of the night police stroll along in the evening, in black uniforms, bearing red lamps and lancers. Crowds of people, who remain in-doors during the intense heat of the day, come to the Parque at dusk to breathe the cool air, and listen to the music of the military band, that plays every second night near the principal statue and fountain.
A little beyond the Parque towers aloft the grand new city market (Plaza de Vapor), one of the finest in the world, adorned in front by a noble colonnade. The numerous and handsome stalls are filled with goods of all kinds; and among the most attractive of the displays are the rich, luscious and lovely fruits of the island. This edifice is well worth seeing. The Campo de Marte and the Paseo de Tacon, in this neighborhood, are magnificent drives. The latter leads out to the suburbs, and beyond the quinta, or country residence of the captain-general. Next day I resolved to see the Casus de Benefecentia, which is situated at the north-west of the city, in front of the ocean. It is the most famous benevolent institution in Cuba, and is under the charge of the Sisters of Charity. It consists of a file of buildings, of solid masonry painted a tawny brown. After knocking at an immense door, I was admitted by the porter, who introduced me to the director of the institution. He has a smattering of English and was very polite.
Signor Antonio Gorherti introduced me to several of the good sisters, who were dressed in white caps and blue habits. We walked through the grounds of the institution. These were very large and highly ornamented. Twenty-four sisters dwelt in the house. The building had two divisions, one for females and the other for males. The majority were destitute orphans of both sexes, the rest were infirm adults. The entire number of its inmates was about seven hundred. We went through the Baptistry, which was fifty or sixty feet high, and entered the chapel, which had a beautiful gallery and mosaic ceiling, then passed through a private chapel where the Blessed Sacrament was kept. All these were finely embellished with paintings. The large wards and dormitories were kept scrupulously clean, and provided with numerous nurses, who received thirty dollars a month in gold for their services. Every attention is paid to the sick, and the best physicians are daily in attendance. Sister Josepha, who had charge of the girls, showed me some very beautiful embroidery and fancy work made by them. They presented many gifts to the captain-general, who was a liberal patron of the institution. The physical as well as religious and moral training of the children was creditably attended to; all looked in fine health and enjoyed good food, as well as the refreshing breezes of the sea, which swept through the grounds. Their knowledge of the Christian truths was excellent, and no wonder, as the educational system practised by the sisters was exceedingly interesting, simple and comprehensive. The boys and girls were formed into various religious sodalities, and I was perfectly charmed with the manner in which so many, of almost every color, united in singing sacred hymns in the Spanish language.
It would take pages to describe the attractions of this institution which commanded the respect and sympathy of all classes in Havana. Though chiefly sustained by the government, still it often receives magnificent bequests. One gentleman left the establishment two hundred thousand dollars. His name will ever be held in grateful remembrance. The untiring zeal of the good sisters makes the institution a perfect success. On my return to the hotel, I dropped into the fish market which adjoins the cathedral. The display of the finny tribe here was perfectly gorgeous. Fish of every color, beautifully striped, and with glittering scales, lay on the benches, after having lately been snatched from the transparent Cuban waters. They presented a tempting sight to the crowd of hungry darkies who lounged around the stalls.
After a rest and an elaborately compounded dinner of fruits, vegetables and meats, all savored with garlic and spices of various kinds, and having been regaled with the rest of the guests, during its course, by a band of music, I resolved to go and see the quinta, or suburban residence of the captain-general. The drive to this place by the Paseo de Tacon is very beautiful and refreshing. On entering the suburbs it is lined with handsome villas and closely packed houses, which soon give way to isolated mansions, green fields, blooming gardens and tropical trees. The grounds of the captain-general are adorned by a splendid entrance, grand walks, flower beds and avenues of palm trees. As I sauntered along the gravel walks I noticed all kinds of cacti, roses, cocoa and royal palms. On calling on the captain-general's widow I was warmly welcomed by Signor Juan Batalla, the major-domo, and his lady, both good Catholics. They kindly accompanied me through the grounds. I saw great masses of dahlias, fuchsias, colens, kaladimus, and century plants flourishing here in their warm native soil. Down a short distance from the house we came upon a lovely cascade which threw its silvery spray over numbers of blossoming vines. It seemed almost impossible to check (if one barbarously desired to do so) the growth and beauty of the flowers that lined the smooth, clear canal below the waterfall. Hundreds of dresinas, other rare plants, and sweet-scented flowers made the air heavy with their fragrance, while the lofty Indian laurels and palms looked down like lords on the dwarf beauties growing at their feet. All kinds of ducks sported in the canal, and tame deer browsed near its banks. Signor Juan pointed with pride to a ceiba tree, about a hundred feet high, and enthusiastically remarked what a brave one it was, since it stood there since the time of Columbus. After taking along with me a few mementos from the signor, I quitted this enchanting spot with feelings of regret and returned to the city.
The Church de Mercede which I next visited, is the handsomest in Havana. It stands at the south-east of the city, and exteriorly presents a very noble and finished appearance. I saw it on Quinquagesima Sunday, when the devotion of the Forty Hours was in progress. The church, at the Solemn High Mass (8 A.M.), was filled to overflowing, and the music, which was rendered by a very large orchestra, was very fine. The interior of the church was remarkable for its artistic beauty. Under the faithful direction of the Lazarist Fathers, who came to Havana in 1863, this edifice was carried to its present state of completion. The building measures two hundred feet long by about ninety wide. Its grand high altar and eight side ones force themselves upon your view by their essential splendor, yet the extravagant and costly drapery of the statuary on most of them, though agreeable to the Spaniards, is hurtful to the taste of one coming from the United States. On the left of the high altar stands a magnificent one of our Lady of Lourdes. The side walls all around are grandly frescoed, and the ceiling is painted a beautiful sky blue, with white clouds here and there, out of which peep lovely bright angels. The oil paintings on the side walls of this church must have cost thousands of dollars each, they are so large, richly mounted and life-like in their execution. The grand altar, like the church, is Corinthian in shape, and literally glittered with lights on the morning I saw it. A great, high, solid ornament rested over the reredos, looking like a papal tiara resplendent with gems. The marble altar steps and pillars of light green shooting up to the roof, the beautiful velvet sanctuary carpet and the crimson damask curtains hanging from the side walls of the sanctuary gave a superb effect to the full front view. The white and gold tabernacle, adorned with delicate crimson lace, looked magnificent as the mellow sunlight flooded it. The large congregation were wrapped up in devotion, and listened with great attention and delight to a sermon on faith which was powerfully delivered in Spanish by one of the Lazarist Fathers. When the Mass ended, I accompanied the Fathers to their modest, neat rooms, where I was delightfully entertained. These priests displayed a great amount of knowledge and refinement. Though few could speak English, yet all could, of course, converse in Latin, and this tongue they uttered with great accuracy and fluency. I will always remember the kindness of these priests and the grandeur of their sacred temple.
The palace of the admiral, which I visited on the following day, is a very handsome structure, built in Grecian style and painted a delicate light blue. It stands near the custom-house and faces the bay. On introducing myself, and presenting the card of the adjutant-general, I was courteously conducted to the side of an officer by one of the guards at the gate. The officer soon led me up a flight of marble stairs through grand, lofty antechambers into the presence of the admiral, a tall, handsome old gentleman. He welcomed me very cordially, and introduced me to his son, a noble-looking young man dressed in the uniform of a superior officer. The latter was not long resident in Cuba, having recently arrived from Spain. He conversed very pleasantly in English about the United States, Cuba, and other topics; then showed me through the house, which contained magnificent apartments all furnished in regal style. The chapel was gorgeous.
After leaving the palace of the admiral, where I was so kindly treated, I went to the arsenal, the extensive grounds, pretty church and military stores of which are well worth noticing. A short distance from here and you come to the military hospital. This is an immense establishment, surrounded by a strong, thick wall, of a light brown color. Its many gates were guarded by armed sentinels. On inquiring for the Padre Curé, I was shown to his presence by a guide in military uniform. The Padre was a large, good-natured-looking person. He was seated at his desk, over a volume, when I entered. The appearance of his room showed that the occupant was a student and a business man. The walls were lined with books, and materials suited to his sacred calling were here and there systematically fixed. Padre Toaquin Salvadorez received me like a generous-hearted, highly-cultivated gentleman. After a brief chat, he led me through the hospital. We passed through numerous offices, where we saw the superior and directors of the institution. Signors Don Antonius Pardinas, J. A. Salazaro, Don Edwardo Crespo and Don Jose Yara Goza, were wonderfully polite and pleasant gentlemen. We entered the wards of the hospital, which are attended by the Sisters of Charity. Almost every bed was occupied by a sick soldier. Most of them were young men not long from Spain, who came to serve the kingdom on a foreign territory. The marks of fever and wounds lay heavy upon them. I noticed sick soldiers and sailors, reading, writing and dozing. Several walked along the corridors dressed in long, white gowns, slippers and turbans, directing a nod and a smile to us as they passed by. The good Father informed me that over one thousand were confined in the hospital, attended by twenty-four nurses, who spared neither time nor effort to make them comfortable.
The rooms were large, airy and full of the odor of tropical fruits and flowers. Beautiful religious pictures hung in several places and good pious books were abundant. The officers' rooms had a large quota of patients. All were brought by sickness to a level with the commonest soldier. We went through the surgical rooms, where operations were wont to be performed. We entered the chapel, a richly adorned and commodious one, where the good sisters so often knelt to pray for the poor invalids. Large, cooling arches spread away before us, and courtyards full of flowers and gushing fountains gave refreshment and rest to the inmates of this vast institution. The good Father showed me immense cellars which contained barrels full of drugs of all kinds. The establishment had three drug stores, all of which were busy supplying the sick with medicines. A proof of the remarkable care taken by the doctors and sisters of the sick in this hospital, may be seen from a report made by a board of investigation which visited Havana in 1880, to inquire into the yellow fever. During the year, 1360 of the army were seized with this disease, 956 outlived it and 411 died, 3 remaining in a doubtful condition. Out of the 174 seized by the disease in the navy, 109 lived and 64 died, 1 remaining in a doubtful state. Out of a total of 1541 invalids 1069 lived and 475 died, 4 remaining in a doubtful condition, thus producing a proportion of 30 to 6 signed by 36 Havana doctors for the army, 4 for the navy, 4 apothecaries, 3 priests and 3 of the military administration.
Father Salvadorez pointed out to me immense stores as we walked along, where great quantities of dry goods were piled up so as to provide the sick with clothing and bandages, also immense stores in which groceries of every kind were packed. The ambulance department, where everything needed for sick soldiers could be had, was well worth seeing, also the rest of the rooms and stores in connection with the building. The insane department contained but one unhappy case. He was a young man with pale face, long, black, flowing hair, and dark eyes full of sadness that stared at us gloomily as we went in. A few words of cheer from the Padre encouraged him, so he smiled, nodded his head, and then retired to a corner of his cell. Father Salvadorez receives a salary of two thousand dollars a year, and each of his assistants gets one thousand dollars. A military attendant is attached to each. It is, indeed, a delightful treat to form the acquaintance of the Padre and the officers of the military hospital. If the stranger knows a little Latin, Italian, or Spanish, he can chat with them, and get a good deal of information. Their expressive gestures will go a good way to supply their lack of English. It afforded me no small share of pleasure to meet at the hospital, among the thirty-four sisters in charge, a novice who had recently arrived from Cork, Ireland. She was the only Irish one among a number of French and Spanish sisters, but certainly not the least loved. After passing a few delightful hours of inspection, I bade adieu to the Padre, whom I promised to meet at the university next day. On the following morning, at nine o'clock, I heard him deliver a grand essay in defence of the Syllabus, before a very large and attentive assemblage of students.