This wide deep moat, varying in width from sixty to a hundred feet, with a depth that will average fifty, extends from one end of the fortress to the other, paralleling the harbor on which it fronts, and separating the main body of the fortress from well planned and easily defended outer works. Stone stairways were built at different places against the walls of these outer ramparts to facilitate the movement of troops in defense of the citadel, but with wide gaps crossed by wooden bridges that once knocked away would render the stairways useless to the enemy.
A few hundred feet beyond the avenue of laurels, and close by an opening of the wall into the main fortress, a bronze placque, some six feet by twelve, marks one of the places where political prisoners were executed throughout the latter half of the 19th century. The bronze was cast in France and represents the execution of a group of insurgent soldiers. In the left half of the placque is represented a squad of Spanish soldiers in the act of firing. Above all floats the figure of an angel endeavoring to shield the martyrs who are giving up their lives for the cause of Cuban Liberty.
Passing through this great eastern wall of the citadel the visitor steps into an interior, grass covered court, several hundred feet in length by eighty or more in width. Along the southern end of the court may be seen the remnant of a painted line at about the height of a man’s breast. On this spot, it is said, over a thousand men were executed during the period of the Ten Years’ War and the three years’ War of Independence. Most of the old line has been dug away by knife points of visitors in search of bullets that were imbedded in the wall during the many executions that took place at its base. At the further, or northern end of this tranquil plot of ground, heavily barred iron gates cover a series of steps which formed an emergency entrance from the moat into the main body of the fortress.
A quarter of a mile further north, along the main extension of the moat, is a wide wooden bridge that connects the outer ramparts with the citadel, the roadway passing through a massive and impressive gate or portal, over which a carved inscription gives the dates in which the work was begun and concluded, together with the name of its founders and the Spanish officers in command at the time of its construction.
The grounds within are ample for military drill and instruction and are well equipped for the care and maintenance of a defending force. When Spain’s army retired from Cuba in the last days of 1899, both Cabañas and Morro presented a very different appearance from that of today. Long lines of cells had been built into the stone walls, in which hundreds, if not thousands, of political prisoners had spent years of confinement. Each of these dreary, cheerless abodes was about 30 feet in width by 60 in length, with a low arched ceiling and massive barred doors, facing the west.
Each cell was supposed to accommodate fifty men, and some of them contained long parallel wooden bars, between which prisoners might swing hammocks if they were fortunate enough to possess them. Many men prominent in Cuban political and military life have occupied these cells of Cabañas and also those of its companion, El Morro. General Julio Sanguily, among others, passed three years in cell No. 57, until, through the urgent intercession of the American Government, he was finally set at liberty and permitted to enter the United States, of which he claimed citizenship.
Stretching along the western face of the fortress is a wide stone parapet overlooking the bay and the City of Havana opposite. Planted on its surface is a long line of interesting brass cannon, ornamented with Spanish coats of arms and bearing inscriptions that tell of their making in Seville, at various periods throughout the 18th century. These cannon are used today for saluting purposes when foreign men of war enter the harbor on friendly visits.
Near the center of the citadel stood a small stone chapel that would accommodate 50 or 100 men. Near one end was built a round pagoda-like altar before which the condemned could kneel in prayer during their last night on earth, since those who entered its tragic portals well knew that at sunrise the following morning they would face the firing squad that would pass them on to eternity. This historically tragic apartment has recently been converted into a moving picture hall for the benefit of Cuban soldiers who are at present stationed in Cabañas.
Visitors at Cabañas during normal times of peace will find soldier guides quite willing to carry one down into the subterranean depths of the fortress and along the narrow dark passageways that were tunneled into the earth, supposedly to detect possible mining operations of the enemy from the outside. During the War of Independence, however, extending from 1895 to 1899, these underground tunnels were occupied by prisoners, most of whom dying in the dismal depths were given burials so shallow by their companions, who must have dug the graves with their fingers, that in passing along by lantern light, shortly after American occupation, one frequently stumbled over skulls and bones that protruded from the earthen floor below.
The aspect of Cabañas today, with its well cleaned, whitewashed walls, with its comfortable officers’ quarters and shady grounds, is quite cheerful, and one can hardly believe that less than a quarter of a century ago Cabañas fortress was one of the modern horrors that cried out to the civilized world for the abolition of Spanish control in America.