“You must make every allowance for me, cousin Placido, as I have not been long enough in the enjoyment of freedom to have considered these things but I do assure you, that I now understand and appreciate all that you say,” replied Maggie with a smile of gratification at the thought.
“Then, cousin, grieve not!” solaced Placido, as he observed the tears stealing down her cheeks. “Your husband is our leader, and as you see the legions advancing, fear not, as you shall hear this song to comfort you, and encourage on the portentous Army of Emancipation:
Be patient in your misery, be meek in your despair,
Be patient, O be patient, suffer on, suffer on!
We are all for freedom, we are all for freedom,
We are for liberty and justice–And for freedom through the land!
We have hatred dark and deep for the fetter and the thong,
We bring light to prisoned spirits, for the captive wail a song;
We are all for freedom, we are all for freedom,
We’re for liberty and justice,
And for freedom through the land!
We are coming, we are coming, and no league with tyrant man,
Is emblazoned on our banner, while Jehovah leads the van!
He is coming on to lead us,
And never means to leave us,
Till he gains us our liberty,
And freedom through the land!”
“God grant,” responded Maggie, “that he may be equal to the task!”
“God grant it!” replied Henry.
“What is the policy among us tomorrow in assembling with the public?” enquired Blake.
“To assemble promiscuously among the whites, and segregate as usual in groups by accident.”
“That’s the idea,” concluded Henry, who smiling explained it to his wife, who acknowledged that freedom developed many things she had never before thought of; when Placido hurriedly left them to send the tidings through the city.
CHAPTER 58
Gala Day
This morning was ushered beautifully in, the West India sky being unusually clear, the morning star in its brilliancy adorning the cloudless horizon.
The evening before there was little rest, in consequence of the general noise, hum and din, by passing to and fro of the vehicles, and chatting of the busy people during the night. The hotels too were kept open for the accommodation of the officers of government, and the musicians from Moro Castle, and other bands of music, which from the porticos and corridors, almost incessantly assembled through the night, discoursed to the cheering crowds continually in honor of the Infanta Sovereign of Spain.
The morning brought with it contemplated joy to the minds of the elevated, and sadness of heart to the crushed and oppressed people on the island. Business on such occassions is usually suspended; the soldiers parading with attracting display, are inspected and commanded by the Captain General in person, surrounded by a brilliant and haughty staff of cavaliers. Moro Castle was on this occasion proudly decorated with all the national colors: the Spanish Protective, merchantman, man-of-war, and Spanish flags. From the British and American flagstaff also waved their national pendants.
The Palace of the Captain General was richly decorated with many curious and highly ornamental designs, all having some allusion of historic or political import. The slaves throughout the island were, as is customary on such occasions, given a general holiday, and all within ten leagues of the city poured in from every direction, like the gathering of black and threatening clouds, necessary to a fearful storm; while the cannon from the castle roared in tones as thunder preceding a tempest.
Floating over the surface of the bay with liveliness and gaiety, were numerous pleasure boats kept in constant transit, and among the most exciting of the water pleasures was the regatta, when the quay was thronged with the multitude who bet and bantered various sums, much money being lost and won. Sports of almost every description during the day occupied the attention of the people. In the courts, narrow alleys, and byways might have been seen squads of idle slaves or trifling wayward Creoles and Spaniards, playing at chicken-hazard, pitching quoits on bets, or betting silver at a toss. At many corners of the streets might have been seen crowds in the center of which was a ring, surrounding a dogfight on heavy bets. The bullfight too was in high requisition the day of this national fete.
The next amusement succeeding was the sport of the chase, which consisted in training the bloodhounds exhibited on the parade ground. This sport is such that in the training the slave is sometimes caught and badly lacerated, which produces terror in the black spectators, the object designed by the custom.
Never before had the African race been so united as on that occassion, the free Negroes and mixed free people being in unison and sympathy with each other. During the sport of the chase, it was generally observed by the whites that in the event of a slave being caught, instead of–as formerly–indifference on the part of the blacks, or a shout from a portion of the free colored people present, there were gloomy countenances, sour angry expressions and looks of revenge, with general murmuring, which plainly indicated if not a preconcerted action, at least a general understanding pertaining to that particular amusement. There was a greater tendency to segregation instead of a seeming desire to mingle as formerly among the whites, as masses of the Negroes, mulattoes and quadroons, Indians* and even Chinamen, could be seen together, to all appearance absorbed in conversation on matters disconnected entirely from the occasion of the day.
The National Parade came next in order, being the only exhibition in which the African race took pleasure, they being desirous of witnessing the display of the troops to learn something of the character of the soldiers that might be brought against them. Though not so exciting particularly to the blacks, this was the most grand and imposing scene of the day.
At the sound of the reveille, the troops assembled in military array, presenting a formidable front, the field officers being richly dressed and elegantly mounted on splendid caparisoned, grand, and dashing steeds. Here and there through the field they were flying, inspecting the lines without giving orders, intending it would seem to anticipate by intimidating the Negroes from action. Now and again as though to show the blacks their chance of escape in an attempt at retreat, came an isolated soldier running at the best of speed, who had been loitering away his time in idle gossip, or in a booth regaling a whetted appetite, and thirst with ardent spirits.
In a short time after the reveille, every soldier was in his place, soon after which the salutes from Moro Castle caused everyone to turn in the direction of the city. The Captain General and suit were now approaching, and the populace were frantic to get a sight of his Excellency. With pomp and splendor he entered the parade ground, amidst the deafening shouts of the multitude, his inspection and exercising of the troops consuming the time allotted for his stay.
The troops as an escort to the Governor entered the city late in the afternoon, leaving his Excellency at the Government palace, the thousands who crowded the thorough fares dispersing in every direction, repairing to their homes early to return in the evening, many to gaze upon the splendid illumination by chandeliers of the interior of the residence, others to the Castle to witness a grand display of fireworks and the various amusements and entertainments throughout Havana that night.
Of the thousands thus dispersing, various feelings existed. Some were merry, others sad–some joyful, others mad; some discouraged, others encouraged–some hopeful, others despairing. Among the disappointed should be considered the restless American part of the inhabitants known as “patriots”; the sad and hopeful were the black and colored people who had determined to manage in future their own affairs; there were among this portion of the inhabitants those who determined that for the last time they had looked with passiveness upon the sad scene of training bloodhounds upon the living flesh of their kindred and sporting in luxury on the misfortunes of their race. Whilst reflecting upon these scenes with a sad a
nd heavy heart, they could only discern before them a dark and gloomy pathway, which but now and again was lighted up by the sudden outbursting of a concealed flame, deeply hidden in their breast, flashing as they passed along. But they had one encouragement–a faint, steady light away off in the distance–discernible through the obscurity of space–the Star of Hope–whose cheering rays had reached them, encouraging them onward in their slow but steady march.
To this end, this portion of the population returning to their homes, prepared for an occasion quite different in its bearing to that which would call together the brilliant and imposing assemblage, soon to crowd the splendid apartments in the Palace of the Captain General.
*For many years the Yucatan Indians taken in war by the Mexicans were sold into Cuba as slaves.
CHAPTER 59
National Fete
The feature of attraction for the evening among the higher classes was the Palace of the Captain General, and while a selection from the elite were alone to be the guests, yet the avenue leading to, and the space in front of, the mansion were thronged by the common people who crowded the passes to get a peep at the rich costumes and gaze in at the windows and doors of the brilliantly illuminated apartments.
At the hour of nine the company commenced to gather, when all that beauty and grandeur could effect, certainly was on the occasion accomplished; by ten o’clock the spacious apartments being crowded with an assemblage that might have graced the palace of an European monarch.
The servants thronged not only their own, but lined the piazzas and walls around the dancing hall; and besides these, the visiting domestics about the palace were also numerous.
There was evident anxiety concerning absent guests, which seemed to be mutual through the assemblage; and the Negro servants on this occasion appeared more than usually observing.
That day was seen on parade several fine looking mulatto officers, the confidants of the Captain General and incognito members of his staff; men upon whom he depended in the event of an outbreak of the American party in Cuba. Juan Montego, Ferdinand Ricardo, Pedro Castina, Stephen Rivera, and the poet Placido were among the foremost of these persons. There were still others of the fairest complexion among the quadroons, who were classed as white, that faithfully adhered to the interests of the African race,* and were ready at any moment to join them. Of the delinquent guests at the Palace, besides the wives and female relatives of many of the gentlemen, there were other ladies expected who failed to appear, of whom may be named Madame Cordora and daughter; Madame Barbosa, and Madame Sebastina, educated, wealthy ladies.
Placido was Poet Laureate to His Excellency, and Pino Golias, a black surgeon, the leading amateur musician, banjoist extraordinary, being the most accomplished banjoist and guitarist in the city.
In a group stood Count Alcora, the Captain General; Lady Charlotte, the Countess; and several foreign officials and their ladies, in close conversation. Presently a servant hastily entered, looked around the room in a meaning manner to others, then suddenly left. There being in this nothing to cause suspicion, as it might have been a summons to domestic duty, no particular attention was thereby elicited.
In the hall directly opposite this group stood the servant of an American, intently looking at the company; his wife, the maidservant to her mistress, standing at his side. A servant of the palace was observed to step up, tap him on the shoulder, and was off in an instant, the American servant following; when, after a short interview in the palace park with a concealed group of Negroes, returned and took his wife from the room. At the head of this grave gathering stood the caterer of the police cuisine, Gofer Gondolier. This person was a black, who in boyhood had attended a Spanish grandee to Genoa, where during his stay, his principal recreation was aquatic sports on the gulf, the lad being his principal oarsman-hence the name of Gondolier. The Christian name of the lad was Godfrey, but by singular corruption he was called Gofer-thence Gofer Gondolier became his fixed name. After a hasty counsel, the caterer returned to duty, and the rest of the servants to their places in the room.
Whilst the palace was the scene of life and gaiety, thronged with those in the highest enjoyment of their rights, free to go and come when and where they pleased, all fondly uniting in loyalty and deference to do homage to the sovereign demands of Spain, little dreaming of serious contingencies or trouble, there was at the same time going on in another part of the city an affair, though if not so grand and potent at least it may have been equally as interesting, and in all probability much more portentous than the elevated assemblage at the seat of government of Count Alcora, the Captain General–the proud and haughty military Chief of Cuba.
*The term “African race” includes the mixed as well as the pure bloods.
CHAPTER 60
Great Gathering at Madame Cordora’s
But a peep in at this unsuspected gathering would give an idea of its designs and general character.
Among the leading persons were Juan Montego, Ferdinand Ricardo, Pedro Castina, Stephen Rivera, and other noted gentlemen; Madame Cordora and Ambrosina, the wife and daughter of a deceased wealthy mulatto merchant; Madame Cordelia Barbosa, a wealthy young quadroon widow; Madame Evelina Sebastina, a refined wealthy mestizo lady; Carolus Blacus, a wealthy black tobacco dealer; Madame and Señorita Seraphina, his wife and daughter, both accomplished black ladies; Andro Camina and Madame Tripolia and Tripolina, his lady and daughter, a refined family of wealthy blacks, retired on a great fortune; and Justin Pompa, a distinguished black artist of rare accomplishments, composed a part of this unique gathering, many of whom till a late hour at night had been anxiously looked for and expected at the palace of the Captain General to complete the assembly at the national fete.
Among those of note, but humble pretensions, were Mendi, the captive chief; and Abyssa, the trading woman of Soudan.
During the evening a general privilege was extended to any of their race in the confidence of a seclusion, to pass and repass during the gathering. Nor were they in the least slighted. Everything was systematically arranged, the organization being complete. Juan Montego was head of the occasion, and where he presided nothing was neglected; consequently every guest and visitor went through an ordeal of the closest possible inspection.
Abyssa, who had for a long time sat closely eyeing the entire company, involuntarily gave vent to an exclamation of prayer.
“Is she crazy?” inquired Louis Chevora, a wealthy quadroon planter from Principe, who, unaccustomed to such promiscuous mingling with people of every complexion of his race, laughed in ridicule.
“No, she’s not crazy; her head is as clear as a sunbeam,” tartly replied Montego, who was a great admirer of the simple but great- and good-hearted female African captive.
“You will know before we separate the meaning of that prayer,” whispered Castina in the ear of Chevora, who had attended but one gathering, and knew nothing of the seclusions.
It was full the eleventh hour before the gathering was complete, and except at intervals a ballad and guitar accompaniments by the voluntary offering of some young lady present, there had been no music during the evening.
All were now seriously silent; everyone no doubt deeply reflecting on the great event and momentous occasion which had brought them together.
Suddenly, as if by magic, the whole company simultaneously rose to their feet. With silent and suppressed demonstrations, men and women waved hand and handkerchief, Blake and Placido entering at the instant when the amateur orchestra, instrumental and vocal commenced in strains most impressive:
All hail thou true and noble chief,
Who scorned to live a cowering slave;
Thy name shall stand on history’s leaf,
Amid the mighty and the brave!
Thy name shall shine a glorious light
To other brave and fearless men,
Who like thyself in freedom’s might,
Shall brave the robber in his den;
Thy name shall stand on his
tory’s page,
And brighter, brighter, brighter glow,
Throughout all time, through every age,
Till bosoms cease to feel and know.
“Created worth or human woe”;
Thy name shall nerve the patriot’s hand,
When mid the battle’s deadly strife,
The glittering bayonet and brand
Are coming with the stream of life;
When the dark clouds of battle roll,
And slaughter reigns without control,
Thy name shall then fresh life impart
And fire anew each freeman’s heart.
Though wealth and power their force combine
To crush thy noble spirit down,
There is above a power divine
Shall bear thee up against their frown.
The effects of the reception ballad was electrical–every kind of demonstration indicating the soul’s deep sympathy and heartfelt hatred to oppression, with cautious suppression, was made in silence. There stood Abyssa bathed in tears, moaning with joy in African accents, while Mendi with outstretched arms fell upon his knees in thankfulness to God for what he had witnessed. Louis Chevora, the quadroon planter, unprepared to see a Negro chosen leader of the great scheme of redemption, was singularly embarrassed and awkward.
“Why, I didn’t know it was you! I am glad to see you! I wasn’t expecting to meet you here!” confusedly expressed the almost bewildered man on being introduced to Blake, whom he had never before seen nor even heard of, as entering the city the evening before and attending but one gathering, he knew nothing of the seclusions, to whom alone the Hero was known.
Blake or The Huts of America Page 31
