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The Picturesque in the War: Maceo

That settled it. I decided not to go. "It is reported," I said, "that thirty women are fighting under General Maceo. Is this true?" "Yes," replied the General. "We took one woman yesterday. She was dressed in man's clothes, and was wielding a machete. She is now in Moro Castle. These women are fiercer than the men. Many of them are mulattos. This particular woman was white." "Do you not think that the life of a newspaper correspondent in Havana is at present a most unhappy one?" "I think it must be; for they make me unhappy. If they were all like you it would be a pleasure." "Do you not think the machete a most dangerous implement of war?" "No. It is simply something to fight with. A man fights with a stick, a gun or a sword. It is not so cruel as a sword." "Is it true that thumb-screws are used to extort confessions from prisoners?" "Not by the Spaniards. Rebels use all these things similar to those that were used in the Inquisition tortures." "Do you not think that Maceo and Gomez have shown good generalship?" "No. Maceo is a mulatto. He has had no military instruction. Gomez fought under me at Santo Domingo. He was a captain and I was a colonel." "Was he not a brave soldier?" "No; he never distinguished himself in any way." "Does not your Excellency think the Cuban women very pretty?" and the General smiled approvingly yes. "Yes, beautiful," he said. "And the American women, what do you think of them?" he was asked. "If you, senorita, are a fair sample, then I think them adorable," and the General bowed with his hand upon his heart. "Would you not like to see the palace?" he said.

Then General Weyler led the way into the throne room, which was just off the audience chamber. It is a long, stately, high-ceilinged apartment, curtained in brilliant red velvet. The floors are of white tiled marble, and the walls of red brocade outlined with gold. The throne itself is on a raised dais at the end of the room, right under a portrait of King Alfonso. There seemed to be no outlet to this apartment, but the general placed his hand upon the wall, near the throne, and almost like magic a panel door opened, which the general held until I had passed through. "This is my bedroom," he said. It was a beautiful room. The big brass bed was canopied in fine lace and soft, white monogrammed linen showing through. The chairs were of cane, and a couch was drawn near the window, where flowers were blooming. A cut-glass liquor set was on a small table, and books were upon a shelf near the bed. "Step in here," said the general, and he opened another of those secret doors in the wall, and we were in the enclosed balcony. The general pushed open one of the blinds, and the palace garden was before us, a delightful breeze coming through the wavy palm trees that lined the walk.

The sitting-room opens off the bedroom. It is daintily furnished. A dressing table draped with lace bears silver toilet implements and many photographs. A broad table near the window is furnished with writing materials of silver. General Weyler drew aside the lace that hung before the window, and pointed to the sea. "Is it not beautiful?" he said. "This room is like a lady's boudoir," I exclaimed. "Has not your Excellency a wife and daughters who might enjoy all this with you?" He went to the dressing case and picked up a large photograph of a beautiful young girl with black hair and large serious eyes. Across the corner was written in Spanish: "To my father," with an affectionate sentiment inscribed beneath. "She died five months ago," he said. Then he handed me another picture, that of a bright, sweet-faced girl. "She speaks English," he said. Then came the picture of a boy, resembling the general across the forehead and eyes. "Has he not a good German face?" he asked, proudly. After this he handed me a card upon which the faces of his smaller children were pictured, the heads close together. "These are my babies," said the general. "Now I must show you my bathroom," he continued, and with pardonable pride he ushered me into a large room, the floor and walls of which were of pale blue marble. There were Turkish towels everywhere in a beautiful profusion, which I had not before observed in Havana, and a cane couch had pillows, also covered with toweling. A velvet screen shut off the marble bath, but the general led me back of this so that he might show me the shower bath. The floor was indented beneath the shower, and the general stood at a safe distance and pulled the brass chain to show me how it worked. It was wonderful. "There is not such a beautiful bathroom in Havana," he exclaimed enthusiastically.

Out of this room we walked into a spacious billiard room, the long windows filled with flowers. There was a fine table and a set of cues in a case upon the wall. "Do you play, general?" I asked. "Yes, but I have no time now," he answered. He ushered me into a stately dining-room, white and cool and finely furnished.

A long table was spread in the centre of the room and there were hundreds of roses upon it. They were in tall vases and in circles upon the white cloth. They filled the air with their fragrance. "Will you not accept these?" said the general, selecting some particularly fine ones from the largest cluster. "What color do you prefer?" said he. Then he handed them to me with a bow, as I thanked him. "I shall be most happy if you will join me at dinner this evening," said he, "or, if not convenient, any other evening; or to breakfast, if you prefer. Breakfast is at 12 each day, and dinner at 8."

I thanked the general for his courtesy, and he continued: "You must not think it odd that I should invite you. I know that American ladies can dine or breakfast with a gentleman without remark."