In the Courts of Memory, 1858-1875 Part 46

A Punch and Judy were acting on a little stage during the procession, surrounded by children of all sizes and ages decked out in costumes, their tinselly flowers showing off their thin and sallow faces. There was a tremendous tooting of horns, and, with the music in the square and the music on the _chars_, made a perfect Bedlam. People nudged one another as we hove in sight in our four-in-hand.

The G----s did not relish the carnival as much as we did, and thought it a dismal affair. They captured a victoria by force, the coachman refusing to take them until they said "Paseo" upon which he started off on a trot. He had a dilapidated old horse, who had to be beaten all the way there, and when there, what do you think the coachman did? Simply pulled out a false nose and put it on and lighted a cigarette, stuck his hat on the lamp, and jeered at all the other vehicles, being on jeering terms with all the other cabmen; and as the _Paseo_ is a mile long, it meant a mile of mortification. They came home disgusted and voted the carnival a "disgraceful affair."

MATANZAS, CUBA.

DEAR M.,--In my last letter I told you of our invitation to the _bal poudre_ and _masque_ here. Count Ceballos, thinking it would amuse us to see it, arranged that we should stay at the palace, where the ball was to take place.

The Captain of the Port, with his aide-de-camp, accompanied us on our trip, and as he was going there in some official capacity, we shared his honors.

We had no adventures except that of traveling in company with a rather rough-looking set of men, who were on their way to a c.o.c.k-fight. The c.o.c.ks were tied up in bags; but as I wanted to see one the man opened the bag and took it out, and also showed me the spurs they strap on them when they fight.

We arrived in Matanzas about six o'clock, to find the Mayor's carriage waiting for us. We drove to the palace, and after dinner dressed for the ball. We did not attempt anything in the way of mask or costume, as being unknown and _unpowdered_ was a sufficient disguise.

The Captain of the Port knew every one there, and presented many of his friends. We went out and stood on the balcony, looking at the sea of upturned heads. It seemed as if every Matanzois who was not inside was outside gazing at the windows, and listening to the band which was playing in the square. The night was glorious with a full moon.

I think that I have described in a former letter the Cuban dance, the languid tropical shuffle they call the _Habanera_. The music is so monotonous, always the same over and over again, and only ceases when it is convenient to the musicians.

The ladies had _cascarilla_ (a powder made of eggsh.e.l.ls) an inch thick on their faces. I doubt if the officers ever saw so much powder as they did at this _bal poudre_.

There was a sit-down supper, consisting of sandwiches smelling strong of bad b.u.t.ter, ham and chicken salads, _dulces_ of all sorts, but, alas!

no fruit. The dancing continued long after we had retired for the night.

The Marquis Aldamar invited us to a _dejeuner_ for the following day; the _volantes_ were again "to the door," and we started off in grand style and great spirits and drove to the top of the mountain, from which we enjoyed a perfectly glorious view of the Yumiri Valley. The winding river looked like a silver thread as it wound in and out through the gra.s.sy meadows.

Our _dejeuner_ was of a more European character than any that we had yet had in Cuba; the menu was in French--evidently the cook was also French--and the servants looked imported. In fact, everything was in very good style. The hostess was charming and musical, she sang some very pretty Cuban songs, and after a while asked me if I were musical, and if I would play something.

The Captain, in an undertone and in all "proudness," said, "Ask Madame to sing." And she did so in a rather condescending manner.

I accepted and went timidly to the piano, and as I hesitated as to what I should sing, she said, "Oh! just sing any little thing." With an amused glance at Laura I sang Chopin's waltz, which is the most difficult thing I sing, and the astonishment depicted on the countenance of my patronizing hostess was highly diverting.

"I wonder if you are any relation of a Mrs. Moulton whom my cousin knew in Paris," she said. "He was very intimate with a family of your name, and often talked to me about a Mrs. Moulton who sang so beautifully."

"Can it be that I am the same person? I have lived in Paris. What was your cousin's name?" I inquired.

"Jules Alphonso."

"What!" I cried. "Jules Alphonso your cousin? I have not seen him for years. I used to know him so well. Where is he?"

"He lives here in Cuba," she answered.

"Where in Cuba?" I interrupted. "How extraordinary! How much I should like to see him again!"

"And he, I am sure, would like to see you, he has so often talked about you to me. I felt directly last night that I knew you; it must have been intuition."

I think, Mama, you must remember Jules. He was like a second son in our house, and was an intimate friend of my brother-in-law, and would have liked to have been a brother-in-law himself if he had been accepted. We all loved him. How strange to find him here! The last place in the world I should have dreamed of! I am not sure that I ever knew that he was a Cuban.

My new friend was wild with joy. "You are the one person that I have wanted to know all my life, and, fancy, here you are!"

Was it not a curious coincidence to meet _here_, in this out-of-the-way place, some one who knew all about me?

I repeated, "I must see Jules, and if he is anywhere near I shall certainly try to find him." "Let us go together," she said. "I will drive you there, and we will take him by surprise." Two _volantes_ were immediately before the door, and the Marquise Aldamar, the Captain of the Port, Laura, and I started for La Rosa, Jules's plantation. It was an enchanting drive, though a long one, leading, as it did, through avenues of royal palms, and it was quite six o'clock before we reached Jules's house. I said to the Marquise Aldamar, "As Jules has no idea that I am in this part of the world, let me go in alone and surprise him."

We drove up to the entrance of his pretty villa, and the others accompanied me to the door of the salon with a finger on their lips, so that the servant should not announce us. We saw Jules sitting at a table reading. I entered softly and went behind him, and laying my hand on his shoulder said, "Jules!"

He turned quickly about, and when he saw me he thought I was an apparition or a dream. "What! What!" he cried, trembling with astonishment.

"It is I--Lillie Moulton," I said, quietly.

"You! you! No, it can't be possible!" And he took hold of my hands as if to see if they were flesh and blood. "Where did you come from? How did you get here? What brought you here?" followed in quick succession. The others pushed aside the curtain and came in. Then followed explanations. I was obliged to answer thousands of questions, and go into thousands of details, concerning the family, Paris, the war, and so forth. He ordered champagne, improvised a little supper for us, and did not seem to be able to do enough to show his delight at seeing me. But the Captain of the Port soon reminded us that it was time to be on our way back to Matanzas, as it was a long drive, and I bade a tearful farewell to lonely Jules. Our comet-like visit must have seemed to him like a vision, and he watched us, with eyes full of tears, drive away out of his life. Poor Jules!

MATANZAS, CUBA.

We spent the following morning in driving about the city. At half-past two crossed the ferry to Yuanana-bocca, where we found the amiable director and the rest of the party. The cars, with their cane-bottomed seats, were cool. The scenery was exquisite. On both sides of the road were real jungles of tropical growth, with the purple mountains as a background. We pa.s.sed many _ingenios_ (plantations), with their tall, smoking chimneys, all in full blast.

On reaching our destination we were met by _volantes_ and saddle-horses.

The former were for the ladies, the latter for the gentlemen of the party, and we made our way through the narrow, dirty streets, pa.s.sed the walls of the city, and came out on to the beautiful road, where a gang of chained prisoners were breaking stones.

We pa.s.sed many villas and well-kept gardens, and arrived at the bottom of the hill, where we were obliged to get out and walk, for the roads became impa.s.sable. It was a stiff climb; but when we reached the summit we were rewarded by a most magnificent view. We descended and reached the _volantes,_ the drivers whipped up their horses, and away we went over rocks and ruts, but feeling nothing of them. That is the charm of a _volante;_ only the wheels, which are behind you, get the jerks and jolts.

After a half-hour's drive we reached the famous cave, Laura and I were supplied with garments looking like mackintoshes, and, provided with torches, we began to descend. We first came to a large, vaulted hall, where miles of stalact.i.tes in every form and shape twinkled in the light of the torches.

We had to crawl through a small opening to get into another vaulted room which boasted of an echo. The guide struck a note and I sang a cadenza, which resounded like a thousand voices.

There never could have been a thermometer made that could register such heat as we felt here; the air was frightfully oppressive and almost intolerable.

They pointed out the Pope's Miter, the Virgin's Veil, the Altar, the Boat --all looking about as much like their names as an apple looks like a pack of cards. After being shown the lake I begged for fresh air, and we mounted the steep wooden stairs. The hot air outside seemed like a wintry breeze when we came into it, and we were told that we must cool off before venturing into the hot sun. Then we _volanted_ back to Matanzas.

Our next visit was to the well-known _ingenio_ (sugar-plantation) belonging to the cousin of the Marquis San Carlos. The sugar-mill stood in front of the master's house, so that the master could watch from his broad balcony the bringing in of the sugar-cane, which was hauled by huge cart- loads drawn by oxen. The sugar-cane, on its arrival, was put between great crushing wheels before it was thrown into the vats. The st.u.r.dy negresses, up to their elbows, stirred the foaming syrup after it had boiled. Then it was skimmed and boiled again to purify it. It went through a centrifugal process to crystallize it, and afterward was packed in boxes and stamped in less time than it takes to relate this. I liked to breathe the hot vapors coming from the huge tanks. What remains of the sugar is used as fuel; so nothing is wasted.

All the slaves seemed gay and well-fed. The Chinese, I believe, are liked better than the natives, they are so clean and adroit. We visited the houses of the slaves and found them all well kept. The master threw silver pieces (ten cents) to the children, who seemed content in their bare nakedness and clamored for more pennies. We drank _querap_ (mola.s.ses) from the tanks mixed with whiskey. It was very good; but a little went very far. Two small children fanned us with palmettos during dinner. We pa.s.sed the night there in the _ingenio_; but we saw no tarantulas, as was predicted. The next morning, when our coffee was brought, there was an a.s.sortment of delicious fruits--pineapples, guavas, bananas, cocoanuts, mangos, etc., which we enjoyed immensely. There was a little excitement before we started: the gardener, a bridegroom of eighty-five summers, was married to a blooming young person of eighty, both slaves and black as ink. We arrived at Havana that evening.

You can't tell how grieved I was to hear of the kind and good Emperor Napoleon's death. He was only sixty-five years old. I thought he was older. What an eventful life he had--tragical would be the right word.

What did he not endure? When he was a child he was an exile, and since then, until he became first President and then Emperor, he was knocking about the world, sometimes hidden and sometimes pursued. However, he had fifteen years of glory, for there was not in all Europe a man more considered than he was, and he had until the last four years of his reign more prestige than any other sovereign. I think after the tragedy of Mexico his star began to pale.

The Emperor Napoleon was certainly the kindest-hearted and best- intentioned man in the world, so full of life, fun, and appreciation. I can see him now shaking with laughter when anything amused him, as was often the case at Compiegne.

The papers say that he had once been a policeman in London. I do not believe this is true, though the Emperor told me himself that he had lived very humbly at times; still, that is very different from being a policeman. I wonder if the Prince will try to get back the throne. He does not look as if he had a strong character, nor does he look as if he had the energy of the Emperor, which enabled him to go through so many hardships to gain his ends.

How sad it is! I am sure the Empress's only consolation is the thought that her son can recover the position the father lost.

We returned to Havana quite tired out with our little journey, and glad to rest in the quiet of our cool rooms, and I looked across the water, crowded with boats of every description, and gazed with delight at the distant mountains, with their clouds dragging themselves from one summit to the other.

How hot it is! I never thought that the sun, which is so high up, could pour down so; but it does pour down. I think it is hotter here than in Matanzas.

We shall be leaving here in a few days, and I suppose we shall find ice and snow in New York, and return to india-rubbers and umbrellas--things unknown here. During our absence some German men-of-war have arrived here, and stationed themselves right in front of our windows.