The History of Cuba, vol. 5

by Willis Fletcher Johnson

Then, after a month of continuous fighting, came the note from the British, stating that El Morro was undermined and an offer of 24 hours in which to surrender, and Velasco’s reply, in which he informed his enemy that the match might be applied and the walls blown up, but within the breach he would be found still defending the castle.

The mine was exploded and the south wall torn asunder, while Velasco, fighting to the last, received the wound that sent him over the Great Divide and soon brought to an end Havana’s defense against the British. Imagination easily recalls the salute of cannon on the following day, announcing the death of one of Spain’s most courageous fighters, while every shot of the defending guns was echoed by one of the British ships, firing as a tribute to the courage of the young officer who had defied their entire fleet for nearly a month.

Morro was begun in 1589 by the Italian engineer, J. Bautista Antonelli, and completed in 1597. Little change has occurred during the last two centuries, and its rugged old walls will probably continue to resist the winter storms of the Gulf for centuries to come. Many of Cuba’s patriots and heroic figures have been confined in the dungeons of Morro, including the first President of the Republic, that kind hearted, genial old gentleman of letters, Don Tomas Estrada Palma, who died the victim of base ingratitude on the part of men for whose freedom and happiness he had devoted all of the best years of his life.

El Morro is still occupied, as in the olden days, by the coast artillery of Cuba, and is well worth a trip across the bay, where one may pass a pleasant afternoon in interesting introspection, and enjoy at the same time one of the most delightful views of land and sea from any point in the West Indies.

Just within the entrance, and on the shore at the foot of Morro, are located 12 huge, old-time muzzle loading cannon, known as the Twelve Apostles, that sweep the opposite shore and were supposed to render impossible the entrance of any hostile ship, or any effort to cut away the heavy iron cable that in earlier days stretched across the entrance to the harbor from El Morro to the fortress of La Punta on the other side. These curious old iron guns, dedicated to the saints, were cast by Don Juan Francisco de Guenes and installed by him in the form of a crescent, that boded destruction to all invaders from the sea.

Some 500 yards further east, along the coast, is installed a similar group of cannon, 12 in number, that forms a battery known as La Pastora. These guns were made by Francisco Cagigal de la Vega and were placed on the lower shelf of the outside coast at a point not easily seen from the sea where they were supposed to render a forced entrance to the bay practically impossible.

A little further within the narrow entrance to the harbor of Havana, and stretching for a half a mile along the eastern shore, lies the largest and most impressive ancient fort of the western hemisphere. This fortress is known as la Cabaña, owing to the fact that several cabins once stood along this ridge, some 200 feet in height, overlooking the City of Havana. La Cabaña is massive in its structure, built of stone and earth on the crest of the ridge, with a steep descent to the water’s edge. It is surrounded on all sides by a wide deep moat, across which no enemy, even in modern times, could possibly pass. The destruction of the fort with high explosives and long range guns would, of course, be easily accomplished, but as an example of 18th century military engineering and architecture, it has no rival in the western world. Some 50 acres are covered with the walls, patios, surface and underground dungeons, prisons, buildings, moats and outer defenses of this fortification.

The work was begun on November 4, 1763, shortly after the evacuation of Havana by the British, and was concluded in 1774. The cost of the work is said to have been $14,000,000, although much of it was probably done by slaves, for whose services little or nothing was paid, nor could the value of their labor be easily estimated. The same engineer Antonelli, of Italian origin, who built El Morro, displayed his military genius in the plans of La Cabaña.

The original approach of this fortress was over a cobbled path that wound up a steep incline, from a little landing opposite the foot of O’Reilly Street, terminating finally in the southern opening to the moat. This path was known during the long years of the Ten Years’ War, and the War of Independence, as “El Camino sin Esperanza” or the Road without Hope, since those who climbed its winding way as prisoners seldom descended to the plain below, unless in rude boxes on the way to their last resting place. Even this privilege was denied to the great majority of political prisoners who were executed under the laurels that shade the first part of the moat.