Читать книгу Cuba Past and Present - Richard Davey - Страница 5

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CUBA, "the Pearl of the Antilles" and the key to the Gulf of Mexico, is not only the largest, but the most important and the wealthiest island in the West Indian Archipelago. Its curious shape has been aptly compared to that of a bird's tongue—a parrot's by preference. From Point Maisi, at one extremity, to Cape San Antonio, at the other, it describes a curve of 900 miles, being, at its greatest breadth, only 120 miles from sea to sea. It is traversed throughout its Eastern province by a range of mountains, which, according to Humboldt, continue under the Ocean, and emerge thence in British Honduras, to receive the somewhat unromantic appellation of the Coxcombe Chain—another proof, if such were needed, of the fact that, in prehistoric times, this island, together with its numerous neighbours, formed part of the main Continent.

The coast of Cuba, on either side beyond the range of the Sierra Maestra, is singularly indented and irregular; and by reason of its innumerable tiny bays, capes, peninsulas, shallows, reefs, "cays," promontories, and islets, presents, on the map, the appearance of a deep curtain fringe. The surface measurement of the island is fully 35,000 square miles. In other words, it is a little bigger than Portugal, or somewhat over a fourth the size of Spain.[1]

The Sierra Maestra range rises from the coast, out of the Ocean, with grand abruptness, immediately opposite the sister island of Jamaica. It here presents much the same stately and varied panorama as may be admired on the Genoese Riviera, and, by a series of irregular terraces, reaches the Ojo del Toro, or the "Sources of the Bull," where it suddenly drops towards the centre of the chain, whence it sends up one exceedingly lofty peak, the Pico Turquino, rising 6900 feet above the sea. From this point the range diminishes in height again, until it reaches the valley of the Cauto River, whence it runs in a straight line to Santiago de Cuba, after which it rapidly declines in height, and loses itself in the unwholesome Guananamo Marshes. A section of this range is popularly known, on account of its mineral wealth, as the Sierra de Cobre, or Copper Chain. Its principal peak, La Gran Piedra, so called from a huge block of conglomerate perched upon its extreme summit, is about 5200 feet high. None of the numerous peaks and crags of the Sierra Maestra and the Cobre Ranges show the least trace of recent volcanic eruption, although limestone is found high up among the mountains, and alarming earthquakes are of frequent occurrence, notably in the province of Santiago. At the eastern extremity of the island are a number of isolated mountains, linked together by low-lying hills. Two other ranges of hills exist, in the neighbourhood of Matanzas, and at the back of Havana, but although they present an imposing appearance from the seaboard, at no single point do they exceed a height of 1000 feet. The mountain ranges occupy about one-third of the island; the other two-thirds are more or less spreading and fairly well cultivated plains and level valleys, but even these fertile regions are broken by lagoons and marshes, like those in the Campagna.

Until quite late in the last century, coffee and tobacco were the principal objects of the planter's care and industry, but in 1786 the French refugees from San Domingo persuaded the Cubans to extend their sugar plantations, and sugar very soon became the staple cultivation of the country. Next to sugar, tobacco and coffee are the chief products, but cotton is also grown, but not very extensively. Cocoa and indigo have received considerable attention lately, and maize has always been one of the absolute necessaries of life, and may be described as the bread of the country; cereals have no place in its husbandry, and are imported, for the most part, unfortunately, from Spain, which country holds a monopoly, which has had its share in bringing about the unhappy civil war of the last three years. As the negroes and the poor whites have rarely, if ever, tasted wheat flour, its absence is not felt by them, but it is an absolute necessity to the upper classes and to the foreigners. Yams, bananas, guavas, oranges, mangoes, and pineapples, are the chief fruits cultivated for exportation. The decline in the popularity of mahogany as a furniture wood in America and Europe—a mere freak of fashion—has been greatly felt. It used to be a most valuable product, and was exported in great quantities, especially to England—the Cuban variety being considered the finest.

The mountain regions of Cuba are extremely picturesque, but very sparsely populated, and, for the most part, little known. Their slopes are often covered by forests or jungles, whose rich vegetation, constantly moistened by innumerable springs, rivulets, and heavy dews, is rankly luxuriant. Immense mineral wealth is supposed to be hidden in the heart of these mountains, but, though the copper mines are fairly well worked, neither gold nor silver have yet been discovered in any quantity, notwithstanding the ancient and persistent tradition as to their abundance.

The entire coast of Cuba is protected, in a measure, by coralline and rocky reefs, "cays," and muddy shallows, which stretch out into the sea for miles. These are most dangerous, and have often, in stormy weather, proved fatal to large vessels, as well as to small fishing craft. Some of these banks are really fair-sized islands, covered with beautiful vegetation, but, as a rule, they are only inhabited by fishermen, and that merely at certain seasons of the year. In many localities the sea is very deep quite close in-shore, and offers excellent harbours and refuges for vessels plying on the busiest sea-road in the Western Hemisphere. The most important of the numerous outlying islands is La Isla dos Pinos, a famous health resort, where, for some unaccountable reason, the pine-tree of our northern regions flourishes to perfection amid tropical surroundings.

Every part of Cuba is supplied with fresh water. There are several fairly broad, though shallow rivers. The Cauto, which takes its rise in the Sierra Maestra, and flows into the sea at the mouth of Manzanillo Bay, is about 130 miles in length, and navigable for small craft. The only other rivers of any importance are the Sagua Grande and the Sagua Chica. Neither of these is navigable, even for small craft, except for a week or so at the close of the rainy season. Springs and streams of exquisitely pure water are to be found in incredible abundance. Indeed, the island has been described as consisting of a series of vast caverns rising over huge reservoirs of fresh water, and the number of caves and grottoes to be found circling over pools of limpid water is really remarkable. In the mountains there are lovely waterfalls, amongst which the cascades of the Rosario are the most celebrated. A number of fair-sized lakes add considerably to the beauty of the scenery in the interior of the island, and, what is more, they are well stocked with a variety of fish of delicious flavour.

Cuba is phenomenally free from noxious animals and reptiles. Columbus only found two quadrupeds of any size on the whole island—a sort of barkless dog, the guaquinaji, possibly a racoon,[2] and a long-bodied squirrel. Many imported domestic animals, such as the horse, the pig, the dog, the cat, and the goat, have in the course of time run wild, and are to be found in great numbers in the densest parts of the forests in the interior. Our canine friend has modified himself considerably since he first landed on Cuban soil. He has dwindled, on the one hand, into the tiny Havanese toy spaniel, and has developed on the other into the colossal molasso, which was constantly employed, but a few years back, in the highly humane sport of slave-hunting. The prehistoric sportsman, however, must, if he was an amateur of big game, have had a good time of it in Cuba, for fossils of mastadons, elephants, hippopotami, and other large and uncanny beasts of the antediluvian world, who have joined the majority countless ages ago, are still constantly to be found.

Some members of the bat family grow to an enormous size, their wings measuring from a foot to a foot and a half from tip to tip. I remember one night, on a plantation near Puerto Principe, one of these most unpleasant monsters flopped through my bedroom window on to the floor. For a few moments I was convinced that I had received a visitation either from Minerva's very own owl or from a dusky cherub.

With the sole exception of a rather long, but not particularly harmful boa, venomous or dangerous snakes are, I was assured, not to be found anywhere on the island. This, however, is a popular error, for in most of the sugar plantations there dwells a small red asp, whose bite is exceedingly dangerous. The creature may not be indigenous; he may have come over with the first sugar-canes from San Domingo. According to the Cubans, imported reptiles, even after a short residence on their native soil, become innocuous, and it must be confessed that the scorpion, which is disagreeably prominent in the island, is less hurtful here than elsewhere. As I happen to have been bitten both by an Italian and a Cuban scorpion, I am in a position to know something about the matter. The Italian rascal stung me in the foot, and sent me to bed with a frightful pain, and a fever which lasted a week. The Cuban gentleman nipped my finger, caused me awful agony, the arm swelling up to twice its size; but I had no fever, neither was I obliged to seek my bed. My Cuban wound, I, remember, was rubbed with a decoction of deceased scorpions, preserved in oil, which certainly soothed the pain, and, further, I was plentifully dosed with Kentucky whisky. In a few hours the suffering passed off, and, after two days of extraordinary numbness in all parts of the body, I completely recovered. My private opinion is that the cure was effected by the decoction of defunct scorpions, and that no difference really exists between the poisonous qualities of the European and the Cuban reptile.

If Cuba possesses no very obnoxious reptiles, their absence is amply atoned for by the surprising collection of annoying insects of all sorts and kinds. The Cuban mosquitoes must be heard, seen, and felt, before they can be imagined. I had hitherto thought the Venetian zanzare diabolical pests enough in all conscience, but, when compared with their Cuban brethren, they stand as angels to demons. Then there are irritating jiggers, ants, giant wasps, infernal little midges, spiders as big as the crown of your hat, and other disreputable gentry who shall be nameless, and who, I learn on good authority, were first imported into our own unsuspecting continent from the West Indies. Alas! they are with us still! In Cuba they haunt the woods and gardens, secrete themselves in the turn-up of your trousers, and in the train of your skirt. They soon let you know their whereabouts, I can assure you! Two very remarkable insects deserve special mention. One is the large "vegetable bee," a member of the bee family, condemned by nature to carry an umbrella-shaped fungus of the Clavara tribe on his back, and the other, the superb cucullo, a monster fire-fly, who emits rays of light from two eyes on his back and one in his breast. Three of these creatures under a glass shade suffice to illumine a moderate-sized room, and, if it were not for the rhythmical flickering glare produced by the breathing of the insects, it would be easy to read by their extraordinary glow.

The Cuban birds are identical with those found in other West Indian islands. Among the great variety of humming-birds, only one is recognised as indigenous to the island. All sorts of tropical fish abound, both in the sea, in the rivers, and the lakes. On the latter, the rather exciting sport of tortoise-hunting may be enjoyed, and the sportsman may chance an unpleasant encounter with the dangerous, but easily avoided cayman. Most Cuban travellers make acquaintance with the frightful-looking, but perfectly harmless iguana, at some friend's house, where he occasionally joins the family circle in the capacity of prime domestic pet. As to the lizards, they are exceedingly well represented, both in gardens and in woods, from the charming, bright-eyed little metallic green and blue opidian, to a very large and ugly brown old lady and gentleman—they usually go abroad in pairs—to be met with in your walks, and which the uninitiated are apt to mistake for a couple of miniature crocodiles. But they are simply very large and harmless lizards, with prodigiously long Latin names. Then, too, there is the interesting and ever-changing cameleon, and the pretty striped flying squirrel, and the delightful little dormouse, a long-established native of the island, well beknown, it would seem, to Christopher Columbus and his companions, who have condescended to make special mention of his timid, yet friendly presence.

As to the flora, it is surpassingly beautiful. I shall have occasion to return to it at greater length, and will only say in this place that it embraces nearly every variety of plant, flower, and fern known in the tropical and sub-tropical zones. European fruits, flowers, and vegetables can be easily and largely cultivated on the highest plateaux of the Sierra Maestra.

The climate of Cuba is, for the tropics, a very tolerable one, quite enjoyable indeed from November to the beginning of May, during which time the heat is rarely oppressive. The summer season is extremely enervating, and in many parts of the island actually dangerous, on account of the excessive heat and the incessant torrents of rain, which together create an unhealthy steaming miasma. The forests, with their prodigious stratas of decaying vegetation, emit, especially in summer, unwholesome malarial vapours, and the lagoons and marshes on the broads are sometimes hidden for days at a time by a dense and deadly but perfectly white fog. Yellow fever is said not to have made its appearance till 1761; at any rate it is from that date only that it has been regarded as a distinct disease indigenous to the island. The deadly vomito nigro has often appeared in various parts of Cuba in epidemic as well as isolated form. It rarely if ever attacks the negroes, but has proved only too fatal to newcomers.[3] I cannot help thinking that it is mainly due to the filthy habits of a people unacquainted with the hygienic laws, and who do not object to have their latrines in the middle of their kitchens, and to a general system of drainage, which, even in the capital and in the other principal towns, is wretchedly antiquated. Dysentery annually carries off a great number of European colonists, especially children, and cholera very frequently decimates the blacks and Chinese, without doing the slightest injury to the whites among whom they live. The wholesomest parts of the island are in the eastern provinces, where yellow fever rarely makes its appearance. This is simply due to a healthy combination of sea and mountain breezes. The outlying island of Pinos, already mentioned, is remarkably healthy, no epidemic ever having been known there, and it is, consequently, a favourite resort with the wealthier Cubans and European colonists, who have built charming cottages amongst its fragrant pine-groves.

I am quite persuaded that Cuba could be rendered fairly healthy by proper irrigation and drainage. The towns are nearly all without proper drains, and the inhabitants are generally very uncleanly in their habits, although well-managed public baths abound. Like most members of the Latin family, the Cubans seem to have a horror of cold water, and rarely indulge in a "tub." On the other hand, to do them justice, at certain seasons of the year they seem never out of the sea, which is often so warm that you can stop in it for hours without getting a chill. However, whether they wash or not matters little, for even in the best regulated families their hygienic habits apparently are indescribably filthy. Add to this state of affairs the still dirtier practices of the immense negro and coolie population, and a faint idea may be formed of the real cause of the unhealthiness of the place. I have often wondered that the pest did not carry off half the population. It has occasionally done so, and Yellow-Jack is always seeking whom he may devour—generally some invalid from the United States, who has come out in search of health, or some over-robust European emigrant. As an illustration of the rapidity with which this fell disease overcomes its victims, I will relate an incident which occurred during my first visit to the island, very many years ago. On board the ship which conveyed us from New York to Havana was a certain Senator L. … , well known in New York and Washington for his good looks and caustic wit. In his youth he had been engaged to a lovely Cuban girl, whose parents had sternly rejected his suit, and had obliged their young daughter to marry a wealthy planter very much her senior. She had recently become a widow, and our friend, who had already been to Havana to lay his fortune at her feet, and had been accepted, was hastening back to claim her as his bride. On our arrival in Havana we all breakfasted together, the party including the still very handsome widow Doña Jacinta. In the afternoon the bridegroom went sketching in the market-place. Yellow-Jack laid his hand on him, and before morning he was dead! The funeral took place on the very day appointed for the wedding. I shall never forget the procession. The whole of Havana turned out to witness it. The church of the Merced, where the Requiem was sung, was so crowded that several persons were seriously injured. The floral offerings were of surprising beauty. All the Donnas in the town, in their thousands, accompanied the cortège conveying the coffin to the port, where it was placed on an American steamer to be taken to New York for burial. The local papers contained many really charming sonnets and poems addressed to the afflicted Doña Jacinta, who, by the way, some time afterwards followed her lover's body to New York, and there became a Little Sister of the Poor.