Donahoe's Magazine, Volume 15, No. 4, April, 1886. VariousЧитать онлайн книгу.
in wonder as we passed, and then relapsed into their previous occupations. Half-naked Chinese farm-hands carried water in buckets suspended from yokes fixed on their shoulders. We saw fields of corn and sugar-cane stretching away for miles. Here and there, out of this bright, green sea arose an odd planter's mansion, painted sky-blue with its pillars, railings, and towers of white and gold. One of these houses stood a few hundred feet from the track. It was two stories high, solid and Corinthian in its architecture, of a cream color, while its lofty colonnades were painted in delicate crimson and blue. Large, costly vases, full of flowers, decorated the entrance, and this was reached through an antique gateway that was covered with roses. Now we swept by large banana groves whose trees were loaded with fruit. We rushed by rocks, dells and fields adorned with grasses as glossy as satin and of every color. We saw fruit trees of all kinds, stone fences covered with century plants, cacti and other flowers; enchanting vales, fields of shrubbery, and avenues of royal palms over fifty feet high, ever stately and beautiful whether in groups or alone.
The soil of the island is of a deep red color, and contrasts splendidly with the rich green of the trees. The cattle looked fat and large, and numerous queer-looking domestic fowl were seen in the fields. The "Ingenio" or sugar plantation, was readily recognized, whether rising above the cane fields or partly shaded by trees. It consisted of a group of buildings generally painted white, out of which arose a very tall furnace chimney. Negroes and Chinese were seen steering oxen with carts full of cane from the fields to the mill.
The chief agricultural industry of the island consists in the cultivation of this product. Cane fields almost boundless in extent appeared here and there in the luxuriant landscape. The railroad stations at the villages where we stopped were crowded with hogsheads of sugar and molasses, ready to be sent to Havana, and shipped from there to foreign seaports. Black and white coolies were noticed cutting the cane and often greedily devouring it, while the rich juice ran down their naked chests. This could be had for almost nothing at the depots from the dealers who also sold oranges, pineapples, tamarinds, caimetoes, cocoanuts and other luscious fruit. I stepped out of the cars at Guines, where the train was to stop for a few minutes, and bought for a couple of cents two cocoanuts, each as large as an ordinary sized mushmelon. The rind was perfectly green, soft and easily broken, the juice fresh and delicious, and the pulp was tender and sweet, much richer in flavor than that which one eats in the North. On the journey I often noticed the tall and handsome ceiba tree, with its smooth trunk and gracefully-spreading limbs and branches full of verdant leaves. Now we passed by the house of the montero, or sporting peasant. It was a rather rude-looking dwelling thatched with palm leaves, and open at the sides to the mild, pure air. This montero usually possesses but a few acres, which yield him fruit, cane and vegetables enough to make his life easy and contented. The streams give him lots of fish, and the sunny blue skies look down with favor upon him, as he languidly reclines on the grass and eats his melting bananas. The sisal hemp fields look very attractive, and as the train rushes on, we catch glimpses of laughing children, who are playing amid a wilderness of roses. We soon reached the town of Catalina. It looked wonderfully charming, with its handsome church and houses, surrounded by groves of bananas and oranges. We saw pine apples growing in the gardens. The colored leaves of these plants were conspicuous for their variety and beauty. The motion of the train developed a steady breeze, and this, laden with the odors of millions of blossoms and fruits, afforded us the greatest delight. The eye could never tire of the beauty of these tropical scenes. When it withdrew from immediate objects, it wandered away to rest with delight on the softly lit-up mountains, crowned with palms. How splendid those mountains looked, covered to their summits with verdure, and now as the sun was sinking, becoming enveloped in purple and crimson mists. The glory of the rosy sunset on field and wood was brought into deeper relief by the shadows of the trees and hills. On getting on the rear of the train, I was enabled to take in the receding landscape and the views to the right and left. The whole seemed a poetic reality, a region of luxurious delight. The heavens assumed most exquisite hues, forms and colors peculiar to tropical skies. Clouds lately gorgeous, passed into shapes still brighter, and their softness, delicacy and glory seemed to illumine the landscapes. The grand, royal palms which carried one's thoughts to the Holy Land and the time of our Saviour, the mountains tipped with the moving mists, the peaceful valleys where droves of fat cattle feasted, the gaps in the hills, the groves of fruit trees and the flowing streams – all rested tranquilly and brightly under the belts of gold in seas of blue and green, the tongues of fire, rivers of light, silvery hills, purple and crimson isles, castles, vases, columns and thrones that were traced in the clouds. No language can sufficiently describe the beauty of this tropical region; it must be seen to be adequately appreciated.
Night was just falling, when we arrived at Matanzas. The drive to the Hotel de St. Francis, where I determined to stay while in the city, led through a number of narrow and hilly streets, lined on both sides by low, jail-like stone houses, painted as at Havana, in every imaginable color. In the course of about twenty minutes I arrived at the hotel which stands on the Calzada De Tirry, the principal street near the bay. The host, Signor Juan Gonzalez, with a Scotch interpreter who knew Spanish well, received me very heartily at the door. After passing several refreshment saloons and reaching the office, I requested to be shown to my room. I found that it opened, like all the others, on a courtyard, and being the best that could be had, I agreed to remain a guest at the house for $2.50 per day, in gold. Dinner being the next on the programme, I soon found myself at the head of a large table, on both sides of which a number of swarthy, black-eyed, dark-haired coolies and Spaniards were seated. Recognizing me as a padre cure, all bowed and ceased talking as I entered, exchanged courtesies and then resumed an exciting conversation. The meal consisted of a variety of courses. The meats were ingeniously spiced, but rather redolent of garlic. Tropical fruits and vegetables, cooked in all manners of ways, were served up in abundance, and each guest was treated to a bottle of Catalonian wine, which is a very pure and favorite claret in Cuba. This wine is imported from Spain, and a pipe containing one hundred and twenty-five gallons costs about fifty dollars in gold. When dinner was over I retired to my room to find it containing two windows without glass, enclosed by heavy green shutters. The plainest kind of furniture was visible in the apartment. The bed, scantily supplied with clothing, was adorned by a large mosquito net. Anticipating colder evenings in Matanzas than I supposed were peculiar to Havana, owing to the former's situation on so many hills, I requested the waiter to bring me a blanket. This article (being rather unusually used at the Hotel de St. Francis) it took him a long time to find. At last he procured me a peculiar specimen of one, so, resolving to make a virtue of necessity, I placed myself under the protection of heaven and retired to rest. After a sound sleep I was awoke before dawn by the hopping and cooing of numerous doves, whose cots were established not far from my bedroom. The morning soon followed their waking, and eager to gaze on the city and its environs, I made haste to dress and go abroad. The view which greeted my eyes the moment I stood on the balcony outside my door, seemed to me very strange and delightful. The sun was just rising in the east, and in such a soft and lovely sky as the tropics only know. Its calm, golden light fell on the city before me, and on the emerald mountains behind, giving to the villas and gardens that sat on the hills an aspect of unearthly beauty. The doves, finding their society invaded, flocked together and flew over a grassy square, in the midst of which stood immense stores for sugar and molasses. I walked down to the courtyard, admired its fountain, gold-fish, peacock, and tame flamingo. All in the hotel were up before I rose from bed. Cubans take advantage of the early morning, as it is much cooler, and consequently pleasanter to work then than later on in the day. Each guest enjoys a cup of coffee after getting up and takes breakfast about ten o'clock. The coffee in Cuba is well made, and has a most delicious aroma. After taking a cup I went out and saw the street alive with Chinese laborers, who were employed by the city in making extensive repairs. I sauntered towards the Church de San Carlos to hear Mass. On crossing the bridge that spans the San Juan River, which shone in the sunlight as it flowed into the sea, I observed curious-shaped boats, lighters and other craft moving on it, all occupied by queerly-dressed, bronzed, bustling men. Numerous drays and strings of packed mules, carrying heavily laden panniers, raised clouds of dust, from which I was glad to escape on entering the narrow streets near the church. Over the doors of the stores were the customary fancy signs and names. There seemed to be no end to the picturesque street-venders even at this early hour of the morning. A Chinaman, dressed in loose, blue shirt and yellow trousers, passed with a long,