I gather from the communicative young officer much information respecting the late war. He tells me that the Spanish soldiers acted with their accustomed valour, and did their best to vanquish their black opponents; but that in spite of their efforts, the enemy proved more than a match for them. The guerilla mode of warfare adopted by the swarthy warriors, assisted by the bad roads and impenetrable country, together with the fatal effects of the climate, combined to defeat the assailants, and, after many fruitless attempts, attended with considerable losses to the Spanish army, the troops were ordered to withdraw from the scene of hostilities.
Always with an 'eye to business,' my partner and I improve the occasion by obtaining sundry commissions for portraits of some of the distinguished officers who had fallen in the late campaign. One of the more important works of this kind is a large historical picture, in which the illustrious commander of the expedition and his staff of officers are introduced. In order to ensure correct likenesses of the individuals who are to figure in our painted production, photographs, and military uniforms are supplied for our use. Many weary weeks are devoted to this capo d'opera, and when the picture is completed, it is handsomely framed and exhibited to an admiring crowd in one of the saloons of the governor's palace.
The war of Santo Domingo being over and forgotten, the town is again enlivened by the arrival of the Spanish fleet fresh from Peru after the unsatisfactory bombardment of Callao. The vessels are anchored in the Cuban harbour and include the iron-clad steamer 'Numancia,' commanded by Admiral Mendez Nunez; the 'Villa de Madrid' with Captain Topete on board; the 'Resolucion' and the 'Almanza.' Our illustrious visitors are lionised for nearly a week at the public expense. Banquets, balls and other entertainments are given in their honour; and in acknowledgment of these attentions, the officers of the 'Numancia,' before the fleet takes its departure, give a grand ball on board their vessel, to which the leading families of Santiago are invited. The upper deck of the iron-clad is covered with a gigantic awning, and is so disguised with flowers, tropical plants, and other adornments, that the guests can scarcely realise the fact that they are actually on board a man-of-war. A long supper table is laid between decks, and here the visitors are invited to inspect the gunnery arrangements and a certain part of the vessel which had sustained some damage during the late expedition.
From some of the officers and crew of this vessel I obtain a few particulars relative to the bombardment of Callao, and these I hasten to use for the benefit of the American newspaper which I serve.
Another interesting event is the attempted escape from the town jail of upwards of two hundred prisoners. The whole town is for many days thrown into a state of alarm, for eleven out of the number succeed in effecting their escape. These are, however, eventually captured by the police, and after being tried in the usual way by court-martial, are sentenced to be shot in public. Upon the morning of the execution, there is great excitement in town. The execution is a fearful spectacle, for the firing has to be repeated more than once before the unfortunates are pronounced dead. One of the victims is my former fellow-prisoner, the communicative Indian, who, after the first shots had been fired by the soldiers, offered to confess his sins, which he had hitherto refused to do upon the plea that the instrument of confession was 'only a piece of crossed wood.'
CHAPTER XIII.
CUBAN MUSIC.
A Soirée at Don Laureano's—An eminent Violinist and Composer—Cuban Pianos—Real Negro Minstrels—Carnival Songs—Coloured Improvisatores.
All work and no play makes even a 'follower of the divine art of Apelles' a dull caballero; so when the day's toils are over, my companion and I amuse ourselves in various ways. The theatre, the Retreta, or promenade, a ball at the Philharmonic, and masquerading during the carnival season, are among our favourite diversions. Sometimes I enjoy these amusements in company with my partner; but when his society is denied me, I avail myself of the companionship of my friend Tunicú, who is a great authority in all matters appertaining to the 'gay and festive.'
Being fond of music, Tunicú introduces me to his friend Laureano, who is a favourite musical composer and an accomplished violinist. In appearance, Don Laureano strongly resembles the renowned Paganini, and it is for this reason, together with his marvellous performances on the violin, that his admirers sometimes advise him to visit Europe and America.