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The Picturesque in the War

The Camps of the Rebels and the Palace of the Governor-General--How the Wounded Cubans are Cared for--The Inside of the Rebellion in the Woods, and the Secret Doors of the Palace--The Cuban Women in the War, and an American Woman Interviews the Redoubtable Weyler, and He Shows Photographs of His Family, and Gives her Flowers.

GROVER FLINT'S pen-sketch of a camp of Cubans is a fine picture, full of touches that tell of truthfulness. He was writing from a real insurgent retreat, and as he wrote, the swarthy guards, with the silver star on their hats and rifles in their hands, were duly vigilant. He says: "CAMP SABANAS, near Sagua, April 1.--This is a real insurgent camp. About me, as I write, are standing its swarthy guards, with the silver star on their hat rims and rifles in their hands. It is a permanent camp, with a little hospital. Dr. Francisco Domingues, of Havana, is stationed here as a special agent of General Maximo Gomez, not only to attend to the wounded, but to forward despatches to the chiefs of insurgent divisions throughout the Matanzas province. "The camp lies in a forest among the foothills that rise from either side of the valley, reaching from the coast to the interior of the Island. High mountains and swamps, green with rushes and cane, protect it on all sides but one. On this side a narrow trail zigzags for a league in the woods, barely missing morasses and pit-falls. Twenty well armed men could hold that trail against a regiment. "The camp itself is tropical and picturesque. It is a plateau, thickly overgrown with stunted trees and towering palms, reached by little paths cut with the machete. "The insurgents live in small huts or wickyups, 'jackals' they call them here, built of boughs and saplings, and thatched with palm leaves. Rebels against Spain must sleep in hammocks, for the ground sweats in the Cuban jungle, and white men cannot sleep on it and live. "At night strange birds sing. Queer animals, like overgrown rats, look at you from the trees, and great land crabs scurry into their holes at your approach. Horses are tethered about everywhere, and stand unsheltered, rain or shine. They are fed on rushes, or colla, for no other grain is to be had, and a sorebacked, sorry lot they are, though tough and tireless as our own bronchos. "The camp guard consists of fifty men, exclusive of negro camp servants, armed only with machetes. Major Juan Jose Andarje, a strong, handsome young Cuban, is in command, with a captain, a sergeant, and four corporals. Guards and patrols watch the trail leading from the valley, and no one is allowed to leave without a pass from the commander. Squads of men ride through the country at night in search of 'plateados'--those bloodthirsty robbers who were the terror of the country early in the war, but who have been almost suppressed by the insurgents. When the plateado is caught, he is brought to camp and hanged to the nearest tree. "It is odd to find soldiers with camp servants to fetch water, cut wood and perform the acts of personal service; but the men are active and quick to take the saddle on sudden alarm, as I have seen on several occasions since my arrival. The life is like that of Marion's men in our American Revolution for simplicity. No coffee, no bread, heated sugar and water at daybreak, sweet potatoes and stewed beef at noon, and stewed beef and sweet potatoes at night. Beans and rice are luxuries. Sugar cane, sweet and nutritious, does for bread. We eat with our fingers and knives down here, with bits of palm bark for plates. Food is plentiful or scarce, according to the country and to circumstances. That there is no scarcity now is proof that the sympathy of the native population is with the insurrection. "No man is so poor that he cannot cheerfully give food for the army. This proves also the truth of the saying here that the Spaniard owns only the ground he stands on. The news of every movement of the Spaniards is quickly reported. "I find these people capable of any sacrifice for the cause. In the interior, inhabitants of the villages will burn their towns on the approach of a Spanish column, so that they may not afford the troops shelter, and points whence expeditions may be sent through the country. I also find that whenever the insurectos ride with their red, white and blue cockades, the people are glad to see them. The girls stand in the doorway and wave their hands, and the small boys look on them with admiration. On the other hand, the news of the approach of Spanish troops will throw a community into a panic. I can now, from the insurgents I have seen and lived with, contradict the absurd and pitiful misstatements of the Spanish press and Spanish minister at Washington, that the insurgent ranks are composed of bandits, whose only aim is to kill and burn. I find myself among men courteous and well bred, proprietors of plantations for the most part, or sons of such proprietors, and evidently accustomed to a comfortable mode of life. These remain in the field, half-fed, inadequately armed and badly equipped, certain only of ignominious death in case of capture. They receive no pay and are earnest patriotic and self-sacrificing. They obey the officers implicitly and do their duty without complaint. Moreover, you do not hear of a single authenticated case of robbery or violence of any kind done by them. The vicious, cowardly atrocities penetrated on defenseless men, women and children are the work of Spanish troops. "The victims of these are rarely important enough to attract special attention, but the massacre continues in every part of the Island. I am told that this state of affairs was unknown at the time of Martinez Campos. "To-day I talked with Jose Ballete y Sirea, proprietor of a little plantation near Recreo. Two weeks ago his sixteen-year-old son was seen by some Spanish guerillas exchanging words with a passing party of insurgents. "After the rebels had passed, the guerillas came from their hiding place, arrested the lad and took him before the alcalde of Recreo as a suspect. The alcalde dismissed the case and ordered the guerillas to take the boy home. As soon as they were clear of the town the guerillas cut the boy to pieces with matchetes, and left the mutilated body in a field, where it was found six days later by the parents. Then the father put a star and a ribbon on his hat and joined the rebels in the woods."