XX
The City of “Habana”—Incidents of a Day’s Sojourn in the Cuban Capital
Habana, Cuba,
December 5th.
“Habana,” says the Cuban and Spanish mouth, and the b is so gently uttered that you cannot tell it from a v.
Yesterday morning, Tuesday, we cast anchor beneath the ramparts of the great fortress of La Cabaña (Cabanya) in the wide landlocked bay; many other ships swung to their moorings in the quiet waters, among these the battleship Massachusetts and two cruisers, Kentucky and Kearsarge, of the navy of the United States.
The harbor of Habana, you will remember, is a mile or more wide and nine or ten miles long, capable of accommodating an extensive shipping. Now, since it has been dredged and cleaned of the accumulated filth of centuries, the largest boats may come up to the docks and sea wall along the city’s marge. The larger vessels, however, just as at Vera Cruz, still prefer to anchor out in the bay, and send passengers and freight ashore by means of tugs and lighters.
A SPANISH HOTEL—HAVANA
We were scarcely moored, when a multitude of small boats surrounded us, all apparently offering to ferry us to the city. We ignored their clamor and clambered aboard the large steam tug to which our baggage was also transferred, and were quickly landed at the customshouse.
My two steamer trunks and big basket of Mexican pottery I left in care of the customs officers, and came up into the city with only a valise. The customshouse is a long, low, stone building, with an iron fence shutting it in and enclosing also an extensive paved storage yard. The Cuban officers, who were very polite, are yet under the military control of the United States and of General Wood, and they all spoke English fluently.