Interior Gen. Van der Voort's House. (April, 1900.)Interior Gen. Van der Voort's House. (April, 1900.)
Furthermore, it was much enjoyed, both by the participants and the spectators. About the middle of the evening some specialties were introduced. Chief Engineer Kelly performed a clog dance successfully, turning a handspring at the end, and Architect Neff executed an eccentric French dance with a skill and activity that brought down the house. There was also good clog dancing by some of the younger men.
The ball was attended by nearly the entire colony. This was made manifest when we lined up for supper, which was served across the street. The procession to the tables numbered one hundred and forty persons by actual count. The tables were set under shelter tents, and were beautifully decorated and loaded with food. There were meats, fish, salads, puddings, cakes, and a wonderful variety of pies, in which the guava was conspicuous. Coffee and fruits were also much in evidence. Never before had La Gloria seen such a spread. On this occasion the women of the colony achieved a well-merited reputation for culinary skill and resourcefulness. Except for a few enthusiasts, who went back to the ballroom for more dancing, the supper wound up the evening'sfestivities. The semi-anniversary had been properly celebrated, and the first ball in La Gloria had proved successful beyond anticipation. April 9, 1900, may be set down as a red letter day in the history of the colony.
Speaking of the ball and its orchestra calls to mind the music in the camp in the early days of the colony. There was not much. Occasionally a violin was heard; and more often, perhaps, a guitar or mandolin. But the most persistent musician was a cornet player, who for a time was heard regularly every night from one end of the camp. His wind was good, but his repertoire small. He knew "Home, Sweet Home" from attic to cellar, and his chief object in life seemed to be to make others as familiar with it as himself. He played little else, and the melting notes of John Howard Payne's masterpiece floated through the quiet camp hour after hour, night after night. Finally, the colonists visited him and told him gently but firmly that he must stop playing that piece so much; it was making them all homesick. Not long after the cornet player disappeared. I think there was no foul play. Probably he had simply betaken himself to home, sweet home.
There were many good singers in camp. Some of them met regularly once or twice a week and sang gospel hymns. These formed the choir at the Sunday services. There was another group of vocalists, equally excellent in its way, which confined itself to rendering popular songs. Some of the latter, who dwelt and had their "sings" near my tent, would have done credit to the vaudeville stage. They were known as the "Kansas crowd." It gave me, a native of the Granite state, great satisfaction to hear these Kansas people singing with spirit and good expression "My Old New Hampshire Home." I was pleased to regard it as a Western tribute to New Hampshire as the place of the ideal home.
It was on the day after the Grand Ball, Tuesday, April 10, that a party of us started on a walking trip to the city of Puerto Principe, forty-five miles away. My companions, who, like myself, were all colonists, were Jeff D. Franklin of Florida, David Murphy of New Jersey, A. H. Carpenter of Massachusetts, and a Mr. Crosby of Tennessee. Mr. Crosby was a man of middle age; the rest of us were younger, Carpenter being a mere youth of perhaps eighteen. All were good walkers. The start was made at about 8:30 in the morning. The day was pleasant and balmy, but not excessively warm. The trail was now in good condition, and the walking would have been altogether agreeable had it not been for the packs upon our shoulders. We carried hammocks, blankets, and such food as bread, crackers, sardines, bacon, and coffee. One of the party had a frying-pan slung across his back. Our loads were notactually heavy, but they seemed so after we had walked a few miles.
Our course lay to the southwest, through the deserted plantation of Mercedes, where we stopped an hour to eat oranges and chat with the colonists at work there. Resuming our march, we soon passed an inhabited Cuban shack near an abandoned sugar mill, stopping a few minutes to investigate a small banana patch near the road. We had been here before and knew the owner. A mile further on we reached another occupied shack, and called to get a drink of agua (water). We were hospitably received in the open front of the casa (house) and given heavy, straight-backed, leather-bottomed chairs of an antique pattern. The agua furnished was rain water which had been stored in a cistern, and had at least the virtue of being wet. There were at home an old man, a very fleshy elderly woman, and two rather good-looking girls, the appearance and dress of one of whom indicated that she was a visitor. This was about the only shack we saw where there were no young children in evidence. We tarried but a few minutes. After making inquiries about the road, as we did at almost every house, we continued on our way.
For the next three or four miles we had a good hard trail through the woods, but saw neither habitation nor opening. Shortly after noon we emerged from the woods into an open space, where, on slightly elevated ground, stood two shacks. We had been here before and knew the man who occupied one of them. There was no land under cultivation in sight, and the only fruit a custard apple tree and a few mangoes. There were a good many pigs roaming about, and the shack we entered contained several small children. Our Cuban friend seemed glad to see us; his wife brought us water to drink, and we were invited to sit down. Our social call would have been more satisfactory if we had known more Spanish, or our host had spoken English. We made but a brief stay, and on departing asked the Cuban to point out to us the road to Puerto Principe. Since leaving the woods we had seen no road or trail of any sort. He took us around his house and accompanied us for some distance, finally pointing out an indistinct trail across high savanna land which he said was the right one. This path, which could hardly be seen, was the "road" from the coast to the third largest city in Cuba, only about thirtymiles away! Such are Cuban roads. At times you can only guess whether you are in a road or out of it.
What lay before us was now entirely unfamiliar. At about one o'clock we halted by the side of the trail for a midday rest and lunch. We were a dozen miles from La Gloria, and about an equal distance from the Cubitas mountains, through which we were to pass. An hour later we took up the march again. We soon entered the woods and found a smooth, firm trail over the red earth. We passed through miles of timber, of a fine, straight growth. In the thick woods but few royal palms were seen, but in the more open country we saw some magnificent groves of them. During the afternoon we passed only two or three shacks, but as we approached the Cubitas mountains the few habitations and their surroundings improved in character. The houses continued to be palm-thatched, but they were more commodious and surrounded by gardens in which were a few orange and banana trees, and other fruits and vegetables. Some of the places were quite pretty. Occasionally we would see cleared land that had once been cultivated, but no growing crops of any amount. This part ofthe country had been agriculturally dead since the Ten Years' War. How the natives live, I know not, but it is safe to say that they do not live well. They raise boniatos and cassava, a little fruit, and keep a few pigs. Often their chief supply of meat is derived from the wild hogs which they shoot. And yet these Cubans were living on some of the best land in the world.
Late in the afternoon, after walking for a mile or more along a good road bordered by the ornamental but worthless jack-pineapple plant, we came to a wide gateway opening into an avenue lined with cocoanut palms and leading up to a couple of well-made Cuban shacks. The houses stood at the front of quite a large garden of fruit trees. We called at one of the shacks, which proved to be well populated. An elderly man, large for a Cuban and well-built, came forward to greet us and was inclined to be sociable. His shirt appeared to be in the wash, but this fact did not seem to embarrass him any; he still had his trousers. Of a younger man we bought a few pounds of boniatos (sweet potatoes) and after some urging persuaded him to go out and get some green cocoanuts for us from the trees. He sent his little boy of abouttwelve years of age up the tree to hack off a bunch of the nuts with his machete. We drank the copious supply of milk with great satisfaction; there is no more refreshing drink in all Cuba. As the boy had done all the work, we designedly withheld our silver until he had come down the tree and we could place it in his hands. We wondered if he would be allowed to keep it. Climbing the smooth trunk of a cocoanut tree is no easy task.
We camped that night among the trees by the side of the road a quarter of a mile further on. We had made twenty miles for the day, and were now on high ground near the base of the Cubitas mountains. The rise had been so very gradual that we had not noticed that we were ascending. The trunks of all the trees around us were stained for a short distance from the ground with the red of the soil, caused, as we believed, by the wild hogs rubbing up against them. Our supper of fried boniatos and bacon was skilfully cooked by Jeff Franklin, who used the hollow trunk of a royal palm, which had fallen and been split, for an oven. For drink we had cocoanut milk. By the vigorous use of Dave Murphy's machete we cleared away the underbrush sothat we could swing our hammocks among the small trees. Franklin had no hammock, but slept under a blanket on a rubber coat spread on the ground. The night was comfortably warm and brilliantly clear. It was delightful to lie in our hammocks and gaze up through the trees at the beautiful star-lit sky. There were mosquitoes, of course, but they did not trouble us much, and we all slept well.
We were up early the next morning, a perfect day, and after eating a substantial breakfast proceeded on our journey. We felt little exhaustion from the long walk of the preceding day, but I was a sad cripple from sore feet. I had on a pair of Cuban shoes which were a little too short for me (although they were No. 40) and my toes were fearfully blistered and bruised. There was nothing to do, however, but go forward as best I could, so I limped painfully along behind my companions, keenly conscious that Josh Billings was a true philosopher when he said that "tite boots" made a man forget all his other troubles.
A fraction of a mile beyond our camping place we discovered a well-kept shack ensconced in cosy grounds amid palms, fruittrees, and flowering shrubs. It was one of the prettiest scenes we saw. We called for water, politely greeted the woman who served us with our best pronunciation of "buenos dias," and, murmuring our "gracias," went our way with some regrets at leaving so pleasant a spot. A mile or two further on we came to a distinct fork in the road. One way lay nearly straight ahead, the other bore off to the right. While we were debating which trail to take, a horseman fortunately came along, the first person we had seen on the road that day and the second since leaving Mercedes on the preceding forenoon. He told us to go to the right, and we were soon in the foothills of the mountains.
It was here that we found a deserted shack behind which was a cleared space in the woods of several acres. On this little plantation grew bananas, cocoanuts, cassava, boniatos, and other vegetables. As it was in the Cubitas mountains near this spot that the Cuban insurrectionists had what they called their independent civil government for some time prior to the intervention of the United States, and secreted their cattle and raised fruit and vegetables to supply food for the "Army of Liberation," we guessed that thismight be one of the places then put under cultivation. It certainly had had very little recent care.
After journeying past some chalk-white cliffs, which we examined with interest, we entered the mountain pass which we supposed would take us through the town or village of Cubitas, the one-time Cuban capital. The way was somewhat rough and rugged, but not very steep. The mountains were covered with trees and we had no extended view in any direction. All at once, at about 10:30 a.m., we suddenly and unexpectedly emerged from the pass, when the shut-in forest view changed to a broad and sweeping prospect into the interior of Cuba. What we looked down upon was an immense savanna, stretching twenty miles to the front, and perhaps more on either hand, broken in the distance on all sides by hills and lofty mountains. It was a beautiful sight, particularly for us who had been shut in by the forest most of the time for months. The savanna was dry, but in places showed bright green stretches that were restful to the eye. It was dotted with thousands of small palm trees, which were highly ornamental. We could not see Puerto Principe, nor did we catch sight of it untilwithin three miles of the city. There was no town or village in sight, and not even a shack, occupied or unoccupied. The view embraced one vast plain, formerly used for grazing purposes, but now wholly neglected and deserted. We did not then know that we were to walk seventeen miles across this savanna before seeing a single habitation of any sort.
We had seen nothing of the village of Cubitas, and concluded that we had taken the wrong pass. We were afterwards told that Cubitas consisted of a single shack which had been used as a canteen. Whether the Cuban government occupied this canteen, or one of the caves which are said to exist in these mountains, I cannot say. The revolutionary government, being always a movable affair, was never easy to locate. It was, however, secure from harm in these mountains. We noticed later that the natives seemed to regard all the scattered houses within a radius of half a dozen miles from this part of the mountains as forming Cubitas. The post-office must have been up a tree.
After a brief rest on the south slope of the mountains, we resumed our march, a wearisome one for all of us and exceedingly painfulto me with my disabled feet. They seemed even sorer after a halt. My ankles were now very lame from unnaturally favoring my pinched toes. The midday sun was hot, and we suffered a good deal from thirst. There were no longer any houses where we could procure water. We had not seen a stream of any sort in the last twenty miles. I staggered along as best I could, a straggler behind my companions. A little after noon we came suddenly upon two or three little water holes directly in our path. It seemed like an oasis in the desert. We could not see where the water came from nor where it went, but it was clear and good, and we were duly thankful. We ate dinner here under a small palm tree, and enjoyed a siesta for an hour.
In the afternoon we met only one person, a Cuban produce pedler on horseback. He treated those who cared for liquor out of a big black bottle. That afternoon's tramp will linger long in our memories. I thought we should never get across that seemingly endless savanna. At last, when it was near six o'clock, we reached an old deserted open shack which stood on the plain not far from the trail. Here we spent the night, cookingour supper and procuring in a near-by well tolerably good water, notwithstanding the dirty scum on top of it. We were within four miles of Puerto Principe, and my ears were delighted that evening with a sound which I had not heard in more than three months—the whistle of a locomotive. Our night was somewhat disturbed by rats, fleas, and mosquitoes, but we were too tired not to sleep a good part of it. The breeze across the savanna was gentle and soothing.
The next morning we walked into the time-scarred city of Puerto Principe—that is, the others walked and I hobbled. If possible, my feet were worse than ever. In the outskirts, our party divided, Franklin, Murphy, and Carpenter branching off to the left to go to the camp of the Eighth U. S. Cavalry two miles east of the city near the railroad track, and Crosby and I going directly into the heart of the town in search of a hotel. We had a long walk through the narrow and roughly paved streets before we found one. There is no denying that we were a tough-looking pair of tramps. We were unshaven and none too clean. Our clothes were worn and frayed, and soiled with mud and dust. We were bent with thepacks upon our shoulders, and walked with very pronounced limps. Everywhere we were recognized as "Americanos," although it seemed to me we looked more like Italian organ-grinders. To the day of my death I shall never cease to be grateful to the people of Puerto Principe for the admirable courtesy and good manners exhibited to us. They did not stone nor jeer us; they did not even openly stare at the odd spectacle we presented. Even the children did not laugh at us, and the dogs kindly refrained from barking at our heels. At all times during our stay of several days we were treated with perfect courtesy and a respectful consideration which our personal appearance scarcely warranted and certainly did not invite. The Spaniards and Cubans seem to associate even the roughest dressed American with money and good-nature. The humbler children would gather about us, pleading, "Americano, gimme a centavo!" while little tots of four years would say in good English and the sweetest of voices, "Good-by, my frien'!" It was the soldiers who had taught them this. Their parents rarely spoke any English whatever.
We stayed at the Gran Hotel, said by someto be the best in the city. It was none too good, but not bad as Cuban hotels run. The terms were moderate, $1.50 per day, for two meals and lodging. A third meal could not be obtained for love nor money. I bought mine at street stands or in a café. Not a word of English was spoken at this hotel.
I cannot describe Puerto Principe at any length. It is an old Spanish city in architecture and customs, and might well have been transplanted from mediæval Spain. As a matter of fact, it was moved here centuries ago from the north coast of Cuba, near the present site of Nuevitas, the change being made to escape the incursions of pirates. It has a population of about forty-seven thousand, and is the third largest city in Cuba, and the most populous inland town. Many of the residents are wealthy and aristocratic, and the people, generally speaking, are fine-looking and very well dressed. I several times visited the chief plaza, which had lately taken the new name of Agramonte, and watched with interest the handsome men and beautiful señoritas who promenaded there. I was told that late in the afternoon and early in the evening the young people of the best families in the city walked in theplaza. They were certainly elegantly dressed and most decorous in behavior. The plaza was very pretty, with its royal palms and ornamental flower beds. It was flanked by one of the several ancient Catholic churches in the city. While in Puerto Principe I was in receipt of unexpected courtesies from Mr. C. Hugo Drake, the American lawyer alluded to in an earlier chapter of this book.
Agramonte Plaza, Puerto Principe, Cuba. Photograph by V. K. Van de Venter, Jan. 28, 1900.Agramonte Plaza, Puerto Principe, Cuba.Photograph by V. K. Van de Venter, Jan. 28, 1900.
After spending four delightful days in Puerto Principe, I took the train to Las Minas, twenty miles to the eastward. There I joined my companions, who had preceded me by twenty-four hours. Here we boarded the private cane train of Bernabe Sanchez and rode to Señor Sanchez' great sugar mill at Senado, six miles away. Señor Sanchez has a pleasant residence here, surrounded by fruit trees and shrubs. We saw ripe strawberries growing in his garden. Scores of Cuban shacks in the vicinity house his workmen and their families. We went all over his immense, well-appointed sugar mill, then in operation, and in the early afternoon rode on the flat cars of the cane train through his extensive plantation for nine miles, the land on either side of the track for all this distance being utilized for the growing of sugar cane.
The end of the track left us about eighteen miles from La Gloria. We set out to walk home, but late in the afternoon the party accidentally divided and both divisions got lost. Murphy and I spent an uncomfortable night in the thick, damp woods, and taking up the tramp early the next morning, found ourselves, two or three hours later, at the exact point near the end of Sanchez' plantation where we had begun our walk the afternoon before. We had walked about fifteen miles and got back to our starting point without realizing that we had deviated from the main trail. Stranger yet, the other division of the party had done exactly the same thing, but had reached this spot late the night before and was now half way to La Gloria.
Murphy and I made a new start, and after getting off the track once or twice, finally reached the Maximo river, crossed it on a tree, and got into La Gloria at 5:30 that afternoon, nearly worn out and looking like wild men. I had had nothing to eat for forty-eight hours save two cookies, one cracker, and half a sweet potato.
A very good Book that I wot of contains an Apocrypha. This will have no Apocrypha, but I will here relate an incident which did not come under my personal observation, but which was told of by my ordinarily veracious friend, Colonel Maginniss. At one time during the winter, Colonel Maginniss and his assistants had for three days, been searching for a company horse that was lost, when a man named Ramsden came to the colonel's tent and reported that there was a horse hanging in the woods not far away. The colonel and Mr. Jones went to the spot and found a large white horse, that had weighed twelve hundred pounds, dead in the thicket, hanging by the neck. No formal inquest was held, but it was the colonel's theory that this American-born horse could not live on Cuban grass, and had deliberately hanged himself. A somewhat similar case I was personally cognizant of. A sick horse was reported drowning in a shallow pondnear the camp. Colonel Maginniss went to the scene on a Cuban pony, with a dozen colonists, and after a hard struggle the horse was dragged one hundred yards away from the mud and water, and left on dry land. Early the next morning it was discovered that the horse had worked his way back into the pond and drowned himself. Was this a case of animal suicide? It may be said that none of the colonists ever resorted to this desperate expedient, even when the sugar gave out.
Colonel Maginniss was "a master hand in sickness." An English woman who came to the colony was very ill, and blood poisoning set in. The colonel's experience as a family man was now of service. He had the woman removed to a large tent, attended her personally and looked after the children, calling four or five times daily, and administering such remedies as he had. The woman recovered, and gratefully expressed the belief that the colonel had saved her life.
Near the end of April there was a sudden and surprising rise of water along Central avenue between La Gloria and the port. One afternoon Mr. Lowell and his men at work upon the road noticed that the water was risingin the creeks and ditches along the way. This was a surprising discovery, inasmuch as there had been no rain of any account. The water continued to rise rapidly, and when the men left off work late in the afternoon it was several feet higher than it had been at noon. It came up steadily through the night, so that pedestrians to the port the next morning found the water even with the new road all along and over it where the creeks came in. Further down toward the port, the savanna was flooded in places to a depth of one or two feet. Among the pedestrians that morning were several colonists who were on their way home to the States, and who, singularly enough, were obliged to walk out of La Gloria through mud and water very much as they had walked in several months before, although between the two periods there had been for a long time a good dry road.
It was that morning that we, in the camp, heard a peculiar rushing sound which we at first mistook for water sweeping through the woods. On going down the road to investigate, however, we found that the noise was the deafening chorus of millions of little frogs—some contended that they were tree toads—which had come in with the flood or with therain which fell in the night. Never before had I seen such a sight. The frogs were everywhere, on logs, stumps, in the water, and along the road; bits of earth jutting out of the water would be covered with them. They were all of one color—as yellow as sulphur—and appeared to be very unhappy. I saw large stumps so covered with these frogs, or toads, as to become pyramids of yellow. Whether frogs or toads, they seemed averse to getting wet and were all seeking dry places. I saw a snake about two feet long, who had filled himself up with them from head to tail, floating lazily on the surface of the water. No less than five of the yellowbacks had climbed up on his head and neck, and he had only energy enough left to clasp his jaws loosely upon one of them and then let go. The snake seemed nearly dead from over-eating. The frogs disappeared in a day or two as suddenly as they had come.
At the time of this small-sized flood, a party of surveyors were camped upon the savanna near Central avenue and about a mile from the port. Their camp was high enough to escape the water, but they were pretty well surrounded by it. One of the men, finding deep water running in the road, went a-fishingthere and boasted that he had caught fish in Central avenue! The water soon subsided, and the generally accepted explanation of the sudden flood was that it had been caused by the overflow of the Maximo, and that there had been heavy rains, or a cloudburst, twelve or fifteen miles away.
April was a warm month, but by no means an uncomfortable one. The lowest temperature recorded was 67°; the highest, 94°. The weather was delightful; the breezes were fresh and fragrant; flowers were blossoming everywhere; and the honey bees of this incomparable bee country were happy and industrious. So, too, were the colonists. The work of the latter was well advanced by the first of May, or, at least, that of some of them. As an example of industry, D. Siefert is worthy of mention. Mr. Siefert hailed from British Columbia and came to La Gloria on the firstYarmouth. On the voyage down he was somewhat disturbed over the question of getting his deed, but once in La Gloria, he put his apprehensions behind him, secured his allotment of a five-acre plantation, indulged in no more vain questionings and waited for no further developments, but each morning shouldered his axe and attacked thetrees on his land. He kept up the battle for months, rarely missing a day's work. The result was that by May 1, Mr. Siefert, alone and unaided, had cleared his five acres of timber land, burned it over, and was ready for planting. Other colonists worked hard and effectually in the forest, but this was the best single-handed performance that came under my notice.
Dr. Peirce's Pineapple Patch.Dr. Peirce's Pineapple Patch.
Another enterprising and highly intelligent colonist was Max Neuber of Philadelphia, who has been before alluded to as one of the teachers in the evening school. Mr. Neuber pushed the work upon his land, doing much of it himself. Early and late his friends would find him chopping, digging, and planting. When he left for the States in April he had five boxes packed with the products of his plantation, such as lemons, limes, potatoes, and specimens of mahogany and other valuable woods.
A group of industrious workers, most of whom had earlier been attached to the survey corps, were in May located and well settled in a place which they called Mountain View. This was a partially open tract four or five miles west of La Gloria and about a mile from Mercedes. Here the young men pitchedtheir tents and swung their hammocks, confidently claiming that they had the best spot in all the country round. From here the Cubitas mountains could be plainly seen; hence the name of Mountain View. A person following the rough trail from La Gloria to Mercedes might have seen on a tree at the left, shortly before reaching the latter place, a shingle bearing the inscription, "Change Cars for Mountain View." If he should choose to take the narrow, rough, and crooked trail to the left through the woods, he would ere long come out into the open and probably see Smith Everett, formerly of Lenawee county, Michigan, lying-in his hammock watching his banana trees grow.
I have before mentioned the irregularity and infrequency of the mails. The remedy was slow in coming. The chief cause of the irregularity was The Sangjai, which, though designed to be an aid to navigation, was often a great hindrance to it. The Sangjai was a very narrow and very shallow channel, partly natural and partly artificial, through what had once been the Sabinal peninsula. The artificial and difficult part of the channel known as The Sangjai was about half way between La Gloria and Nuevitas. It had tobe used in following the short or "inside" water course. This was the route over which went our mail in a small sailboat. The Sangjai at one point was so shallow that it contained only a few inches of water at low tide and less than two feet when the tide was high. It was a hard place to get through at best, and many a passenger on craft which went this way had to get out and walk, and help push the boat besides! Boats always had to be pushed or poled through The Sangjai. If the winds permitted the sailboat to reach this aggravating channel at the right time, there was no great delay; but otherwise, the boat would be held up for ten or twelve hours. This was altogether unpleasant, especially as the mosquitoes and jejines claimed The Sangjai (pronounced Sanghi, or corruptly, Shanghi) for their own. The mail, like everything else, had to await the will of the waters, or, perhaps I should say, the convenience of the moon. The Sangjai played a very important part in the early history of La Gloria.
My pen must glide rapidly over the events of the summer and early fall. The sawmill, which had been so long delayed and so often promised as to become a standing joke in the colony, finally reached La Gloria from Nuevitas, via the port, on May 30. Nothing was more needed; its non-arrival had delayed both building operations and the clearing of land. A few weeks later the mill was in operation, to the great joy of the colonists. In June the construction of a pole tramway from La Gloria to a point on the bay between the port and the Palota landing was begun. This was completed on August 14, and transportation operations were at once inaugurated. The new landing place was named Newport. On July 16 the building of a substantial and permanent highway from La Gloria to the port was commenced under the supervision of Chief Engineer Kelly, and before October 1 the work was well advanced. The chosen route was along Central avenue.
The colonists celebrated the Fourth of July with an appropriate entertainment. On July 3 the colony witnessed a tragedy in the killing of a youth named Eugene Head by a stone thrown by a young Spanish boy. The coroner's jury decided that young Head's death was accidental. Both boys were residents of La Gloria. The fifth of July was marked by the death of a valued colonist, Mr. F. H. Bosworth, a veteran of the Civil War. Mr. Bosworth was seventy-one years old, and had not been in rugged health for a long time. He was an enterprising colonist, and performed a great deal of work for a man of his years and enfeebled physical condition. His wife, also a resident of La Gloria, survived him. The general health of the colony through the summer was excellent. There was but little rain, and the weather was delightful beyond all expectation. The temperature ordinarily ranged from about 78° to 90°, and never exceeded 94°. The colonists came to believe that the summer season was even more agreeable than the winter. It was heartily voted that Cuba was a good all-the-year-round country.
The end of the first year of the colony—reckoning from October 9, 1899, when thesurveyors began operations—saw much progress toward extensive colonization, not in La Gloria alone, but also in the surrounding country. The Cuban Colonization Company, organized with Dr. W. P. Peirce of Hoopeston, Ill., as president and treasurer, and W. G. Spiker of Cleveland, Ohio, as vice-president and general manager, had acquired two excellent tracts of land, known as Laguna Grande and Rincon Grande, to the eastward of the La Gloria property. These are being subdivided and sold to colonists in small holdings. In the Rincon Grande tract, on the bay front, the city of Columbia is being laid out, and doubtless will soon be settled by thrifty and progressive colonists from the United States. It is claimed that this is the exact spot where Columbus landed in 1492, and it certainly does answer well the historical description. Other colonists had purchased the Canasi tract, southwest of La Gloria and adjoining the Caridad property, and Hon. Peter E. Park was said to have secured an option on the Palota tract. It is understood that these two tracts are to be divided up and sold to colonists. The Caridad tract, adjoining La Gloria on the south, had passed into the hands of Mr. O. N.Lumbert of New York, and still other tracts in the neighborhood were being negotiated for by Americans. Judging from the progress of this first year in colonization, there will soon be more Americans in this region than Cubans.
Scene on Laguna Grande.Scene on Laguna Grande.
The nearest Cuban village to La Gloria is Guanaja (pronounced Wan-ah-ha) twelve miles to the northwest, and six or seven miles from Mercedes. Before the Ten Years' War Guanaja was a port of some importance, and the village is said to have embraced one hundred and eighty houses. But the town and surrounding country suffered severely in the long war, and somewhat in the later conflict. Now Guanaja consists of one rude wooden building, used as a store, and a dozen shacks stretched along the bay front close to the water, with a few scattered palm houses further back from the shore. The situation is rather picturesque, commanding a beautiful view across the brilliant-hued water to Cayo Romano, and the surrounding country is pleasant and might be made highly productive. The La Gloria colonists sometimes patronized the Guanaja store, and found the proprietor accommodating and reasonable in his prices. In the country between La Gloriaand Guanaja we would often meet members of the Rural Guard, in groups of two or three. They were fine-looking mounted Cubans, selected by the American military government from among the best of the late followers of Gomez, Garcia, and Maceo to patrol the country and preserve the peace. They frequently visited us at La Gloria, and made a favorable impression.
The La Gloria colony at the close of its first year had several newly formed organizations in a flourishing condition. Prominent among these was the La Gloria Colony Transportation Company, which owned and operated the pole tramway to the bay. Its officers were: J. C. Kelly, president; D. E. Lowell, first vice-president and general manager; W. A. Merrow, second vice-president; M. A. Custer Neff, chief engineer; R. G. Earner, secretary; William I. Gill, treasurer; H. W. O. Margary, counsel; and John Latham, E. F. Rutherford, D. W. Clifton, R. H. Ford, W. M. Carson, J. A. Messier, directors. The La Gloria Colony Telephone Company, organized to construct and operate a telephone line to the bay, was officered as follows: J. C. Kelly, president; F. E. Kezar, vice-president and general manager; J. R. P. deles Derniers, secretary; S. M. Van der Voort, chief engineer and director; J. A. Connell, director. The La Gloria Colony Cemetery Association had the following officers: J. C. Kelly, M. A. C. Neff, D. E. Lowell, trustees; J. C. Kelly, president; H. W. O. Margary, vice-president; E. L. Ellis, treasurer; A. B. Chambers, secretary; Rev. W. A. Nicholas, general manager; F. E. Kezar, J. C. Francis, S. L. Benham, Mrs. W. A. Nicholas, Mrs. John Lind, directors. The Cuban Land and Steamship Company donated ten acres of land for a cemetery. The La Gloria Horticultural Society had about thirty members, with officers as follows: H. W. O. Margary, president; A. W. Provo, vice-president; R. G. Barner, secretary; Smith Everett, treasurer. The La Prima Literary Society also had something like thirty members, and these officers: H. W. O. Margary, chairman; A. W. Provo, vice-chairman; R. H. Ford, secretary; Smith Everett, treasurer. The two last named societies jointly purchased a town lot, and propose to erect at some future time a building for a hall, reading-room, etc.
The colony's first anniversary found improvements marching steadily, if not rapidly,on. The sawmill, already alluded to, was busily at work; Olson's shingle mill was completed; the two-story frame building on Central avenue to be used as post-office; dwelling, etc., was done, as were numerous other wooden houses occupied as stores or residences; there were half a dozen well-stocked stores doing business, and several restaurants and bakeries. Many buildings were in process of construction, and much clearing and planting going on. Choice fruit trees were being imported, as well as cattle, mules, swine, and poultry. The colonists were subsisting in part upon vegetables and pineapples of their own raising, and looking confidently forward to exporting products of this character in the near future.
Fruit growing was the most popular industry among the colonists, but there were those who were looking into the subjects of sugar, coffee, tobacco, cacao, rubber, lumber, cattle raising, etc. The outlook for all such enterprises seemed highly promising. Urgent needs of La Gloria are a canning factory and an establishment for the manufacture of furniture; these industries should flourish from the start.
The enthusiasm of the colonists was unbounded; they were filled and thrilled withdelight over their new home in the tropics. The climate was glorious, the air refreshing and soothing, the country picturesque and healthful, the soil fertile and productive. Not for a moment did they doubt that, after a few short years of slight hardship and trifling deprivations, a life of luxurious comfort lay before them. A fortune or a competence seemed certain to come to every man who would work and wait for it, and in all La Gloria there was hardly a person to be found who would willingly blot from his memory his interesting experiences whilePioneering in Cuba.
A SHORT ROAD TO A COMPETENCY AND A LIFE AMID TROPICAL DELIGHTS FOR THOSE WHO ARE AWAKE TO THE PRESENT OPPORTUNITY.
The Cuban Colonization Company
OWNS and holds deeds for two large tracts of the best land in Cuba, situated on the north coast in the Province of Puerto Principe, the most fertile and healthful portion of the island. This region is being rapidly colonized by enterprising Americans, who own and are developing thousands of plantations in the immediate vicinity of our holdings. We are selling this valuable land in small tracts, from five to forty acres each, at a low price, payable in monthly installments. It has been practically demonstrated that this soil will produce abundantly all kinds of tropical fruits, sugar cane, coffee, tobacco, cocoanuts, etc.
The purchaser of land from us will have no taxes to pay for the first three years, and can have a warranty deed as soon as his land is paid for.A discount of 10 pet cent. allowed from regular prices when full payment is made at time o£ purchase.
An Insurance Policy.
In case of the death of any purchaser we will issue a warranty deed to his or her estate without further payment.
REMEMBER—That a 10-acre Orange Grove in Cuba, four years old, is worth ten thousand dollars, and will net you from three to six thousand dollars annually.
REMEMBER—That in Cuba you can have fruits ripening every month in the year.
REMEMBER—That what you would pay for winter clothing and fuel to keep you warm in the United States will keep up a home in Cuba, where the winter months are perpetual June.
REMEMBER—That in our location are combined a delightful and healthful climate, pure and abundant water, and a rich and productive soil.
Send for illustrated booklet and leaflets, giving information concerning prices, etc.
CUBAN COLONIZATION COMPANY.
A NARRATIVE OF THE SETTLEMENT OF LA GLORIA, THE FIRST AMERICAN COLONY IN CUBA, AND THE EARLY EXPERIENCES OF THE PIONEERS.
By JAMES M. ADAMS,
One of the Original Colonists.
In one volume, 16mo., Illustrated with scenes in La Gloria.
PRICE: Bound in Cloth, $1.00;Bound in Paper, 50 Cents.
The book will be sent postpaid on receipt of price by the author, at North Weare, N. H., or by the Rumford Printing Co., Concord, N. H.
AGENTS WANTED.Address the author.