Chapter XXI: Part 21

"The Consul General has named a desire to have an orphanage created, and asked of me to find a building, and establish such an institution. I commence a search among the apparently suitable buildings of the town, but regretting always that I have not his knowledge of the city and its belongings. Up to this time the search, although vigilant, has been fruitless. Still there are only three days of it all since our arrival, and to-morrow will be Sunday."

This hopeful entry ended the first half week of life in Cuban relief. Up to this moment no American food had ever entered Los Fosos, as the institution was under Spanish military and municipal direction. How to get our distributors into proper and peaceful aid there, if not into control, was a politic question.

The diary continues: "That Sunday morning, fine, clear and warm, brought three matters of interest to our attention:

"First. An interview with a householder concerning the orphanage--unsuccessful.

"Second. The visiting of all the various points, some nine in number, where American food would be distributed for the coming week to the waiting thousands and--

"Third. A bull fight."

One would feel something of the same dread in attempting to describe these gathering moving masses of starving humanity as in picturing the "still life" of Los Fosos. The children of three and four years old often could not walk and the mother was too weak to carry the burden, and they fell in a heap among the crowd.

The food was distributed by tickets, suited to the family and put up in paper bags, for few had any vessel to get it in.

At the first place of distribution there were 1000 fed; at the second, 1300; at the third, 2200, and so on--some larger, some less. At one of the larger distributions, when about half served, it was announced that there was no more food and the people were directed to disperse. We inquired the cause and were told there were no more American supplies in Havana--that they had been so informed. We could not persuade them that they had been misinformed, that there was plenty of food in the warehouse, but we did succeed in having the disappointed, hungry hundreds called back and told to come again next day and get their food. We never knew how the mistake occurred, but were more than ever convinced that some systematic work must be instituted among the constantly arriving supplies at the warehouse. The task had all along been too great. The next morning took us with proper assistants to San Jose, when a systematic inventory of stock as per each shipment was instituted. At 3.30 p.m. our work was interrupted. A cordial invitation from Captain Sigsbee to visit the "Maine" that afternoon had been received. His launch courteously came for us; his officers received us; his crew, strong, ruddy and bright, went through their drill for our entertainment, and the lunch at those polished tables, off glittering china and cut glass, with the social guests around, will remain ever in my memory as a vision of the "Last Supper."

The next day took us again to the warehouse. I cannot refrain from taking the liberty of mentioning my most distinguished volunteer assistant, General Ross, a general in our Civil War and the uncle of Commissioner Ross, of Washington, D.C. Being in Havana on a passing tour, and perceiving the need, he volunteered freely to do the work which he had once commanded his under officers to direct their private soldiers to do. It was most intelligent help.

While passing quickly among the rows of barrels, with dress pinned back, a letter of introduction from the Consul-General was handed to me by a manly, polished-mannered gentleman, on whose playful features there mingled a look of amused surprise, with a tinge of well-covered roguishness and complacency, that bespoke the cultured man of the world. The note, addressed to my hotel, said that the Consul took pleasure in introducing to me Mr. William Willard Howard, of New York. Although never having met we were by no means strangers. He had worked on the Eastern fields of Armenia in the hard province of Van, while I was in Constantinople, and our expeditions in the great centre districts of Harpoot and Diarbeker. He evidently felt that the surroundings were a little rough and unexpected for a first meeting, but collecting himself, at once rallied me with the grand opportunity I was affording him for a sensational letter to the States, with a cartoon of the president of the American National Red Cross in a Cuban warehouse, with dress pinned back, "opening boxes." He admitted that the latter stroke of the picture was a little stretch of imagination, but he hoped it might realize, as he really wanted it for his cartoon. After a few moments of pleasant badinage he left, under pretext of not hindering me in my favorite occupation of "opening boxes."

The next day I was detained at home by an accumulation of clerical work and heavy mails to be gotten off (I had as yet no clerk), but on the return of the men at night they reported a marvelous day's work. That Mr. Howard had come early in the morning, thrown off his coat, and, calling for a box opener, had opened boxes all day. They had never seen a better day's work. A messenger was immediately dispatched to his hotel, inviting Mr. Howard to come and dine with us. From that time on, during his stay, he continued to dine with us. We compared methods of relief work with the experiences we had gained, and when we separated it was with the feeling on my part that any work of relief would be a gainer that could enlist men of such views, experience and capacity as Mr. Howard in its ranks.

The heavy clerical work of that fifteenth day of February held not only myself but Mr. Elwell as well, busy at our writing tables until late at night. The house had grown still; the noises on the streets were dying away, when suddenly the table shook from under our hands, the great glass door opening onto the veranda, facing the sea, flew open; everything in the room was in motion or out of place--the deafening roar of such a burst of thunder as perhaps one never heard before, and off to the right, out over the bay, the air was filled with a blaze of light, and this in turn filled with black specks like huge spectres flying in all directions. Then it faded away. The bells rang; the whistles blew, and voices in the street were heard for a moment; then all was quiet again. I supposed it to be the bursting of some mammoth mortar, or explosion of some magazine. A few hours later came the terrible news of the "Maine."

Mr. Elwell was early among the wreckage, and returned to give me news.

The diary goes on. "She is destroyed. There is no room for comment, only who is lost, who has escaped, and what can be done for them? They tell us that most of the officers were dining out, and thus saved; that Captain Sigsbee is saved. It is thought that 250 men are lost, that one hundred are wounded, but still living, some in hospital, some on small boats as picked up. The Chief Engineer, a quiet, resolute man, and the second officer met me as I passed out of the hotel for the hospital. The latter stopped me saying, 'Miss Barton, do you remember you told me on board the "Maine" that the Red Cross was at our service; for whenever anything took place with that ship, either in naval action or otherwise, _someone_ would be hurt; that she was not of a structure to take misfortune lightly?' I recalled the conversation and the impression which led to it,--such strength would never go out easily.

"We proceeded to the Spanish hospital San Ambrosia, to find thirty to forty wounded--bruised, cut, burned; they had been crushed by timbers, cut by iron, scorched by fire, and blown sometimes high in the air, sometimes driven down through the red hot furnace room and out into the water, senseless, to be picked up by some boat and gotten ashore. Their wounds are all over them--heads and faces terribly cut, internal wounds, arms, legs, feet and hands burned to the live flesh. The hair and beards are singed, showing that the burns were from fire and not steam; besides further evidence shows that the burns are where the parts were uncovered. If burned by steam, the clothing would have held the steam and burned all the deeper. As it is, it protected from the heat and the fire and saved their limbs, whilst the faces, hands, and arms are terribly burned. Both men and officers are very reticent in regard to the cause, but all declare it could not have been the result of an internal explosion. That the boilers were at the two ends of the ship, and these were the places from which all escaped, who did escape. The trouble was evidently from the center of the ship, where no explosive machinery was located.

"I thought to take the names as I passed among them, and drawing near to the first in the long line, I asked his name. He gave it with his address; then peering out from among the bandages and cotton about his breast and face, he looked earnestly at me and asked: 'Isn't this Miss Barton?' 'Yes.' 'I thought it must be. I knew you were here, and thought you would come to us. I am so thankful for us all.'

"I asked if he wanted anything. 'Yes. There is a lady to whom I was to be married. The time is up. She will be frantic if she hears of this accident and nothing more. Could you telegraph her?' 'Certainly!' The dispatch went at once: 'Wounded, but saved.' Alas, it was only for a little; two days later, and it was all over.

"I passed on from one to another, till twelve had been spoken to and the names taken. There were only two of the number who did not recognize me. Their expressions of grateful thanks, spoken under such conditions, were too much. I passed the pencil to another hand and stepped aside."

I am glad to say that every kindness was extended to them. Miss Mary Wilberforce had been at once installed as nurse, and faithful work she performed. The Spanish hospital attendants were tireless in their attentions. Still, there was boundless room for luxuries and comforts, delicate foods, grapes, oranges, wines, cordials, anything that could soothe or interest; and no opportunity was lost, nor cost nor pains spared, and when two days later the streets filled with hearses bearing reverently the bodies of martyred heroes; and the crape and the flowers mingled in their tributes of tenderness and beauty, and the muffled drums and tolling bells spoke all that inanimate substance could speak of sorrow and respect; and the silent, marching tread of armies fell upon the listening ear,--the heart grew sick in the midst of all this pageant, and the thoughts turned away to the far land, smitten with horror, and the homes wailing in bitter grief for these, so lone, so lost; and one saw only the:

Nodding plumes over their bier to wave,
And God's own hand in that lonely land
To lay them in their grave.

We were still in hotel--excellent of course--but a home should be made for the body of assistants it was by this time proposed to send for. I remembered the visit of a lady--one among the hundreds who called the day before--and who impressed me as being no ordinary person. She had the air of genuine nobility and high birth. I had retained her card:

Senora J.S. Jorrin,
528 del Cerro.

It would be certain I thought that this lady knew something of suitable homes; and we drove to her residence next day, to find one of the loveliest villas in the city, surrounded by gardens, fountains, flowers, baths, a little river rushing through the garden, palms, bananas, cocoanuts, all growing luxuriantly. This was the home of Senora Jorrin, given her as a wedding gift many years before by her husband, a man of great power in the island, and who had three times represented Cuba in the Senate of Madrid. Three months before he had died on a visit to New York. La Senora was alone with her retinue of servants, and waiting to make some suitable disposition of her mansion, in order to join her only daughter residing in America.

The desired disposition was quickly made, and in the next day or two we were safely installed in our new home, with Senora as honorary hostess, to the delight and advantage of all. This pleasant arrangement has never been interrupted, and is the origin of the charming Red Cross headquarters at Cerro, that all our friends and visitors recall with such admiration. I might be pardoned for adding that Senora Jorrin, who was early called to Washington by the sudden death of her beautiful and only daughter, has remained with her grandchildren, and we have continued such loving care as we were able to extend over her palatial home from that time to the present.

The diary now makes the following notes, which I remember to have once copied in a letter to some periodical which perhaps published it. I never knew; but will venture to reproduce it here, as the description of the first visit made to any point of the country outside of Havana.

We were overborne by requests to visit towns and villages filled with suffering and death. The notes run:

JARUCO.

It was a clear warm day. I had retired early to be ready for a five o'clock start for the town of Jaruco, some twenty miles away. It was as dark as night when we stepped into the carriage to go to the ferry and the train--damp, heavy, just a morning for chills. Some members of the committee joined us at the train, and as daylight and sunrise came, the sight, in spite of neglect and devastation, was magnificently lovely. The stately groves of royal palms looked benignly down on the less pretentious banana and cocoanut, each doing its best to provide for and keep life in a starving, dying people. Nine o'clock brought us to the town, where we were met and right royally welcomed by its leading people. The mayor took us in his carriage to the church, followed by a crowd of people that filled its centre. The plain, simple services told in repeated sentences the heart gratitude of a stricken people to God for what he had put into the hearts of America to do. She had remembered them when all was gone, when hunger, pain and death alone remained to them; and when that assemblage of pale, hollow faces and attenuated forms knelt on the rough stone floor in praise to the Great Giver, one felt if this was not acceptable, no worship might ever hope to be. From the church to the house of the mayor, the judge, the doctor and other principal men of the town. It now remained to see what we had "gone for to see." Two hours' wandering about in the hot sunshine from hovel to hovel dark and damp, thatched roof and ground floor, no furniture, sometimes a broken bench, a few rags of clothing; some of the people could walk about, some could not, but all had something to eat. Thank God, if not _all_ their lean bodies might crave, still _something_, and while they showed their skeleton bodies and feet swollen to bursting, they still blessed the people of the country that had remembered them with food.

The line of march was long and weary, and ended with the "hospital." What shall I say of it? If only a sense of decency were consulted one would say nothing; but truth and facts demand a record. We tried to enter, to reach a poor, wretched looking human being on a low cot on the far side of the room, but were driven back by the stench that met us, not alone the smell one might expect in such a place of neglect, but the dead had evidently lain there unremoved until putrefaction had taken place. There were perhaps four wrecks of men in the various rooms, doubtless left there to die. Like a body of retreating soldiers, driven but not defeated, we went a few rods out and rallied, and calling for volunteers and picked men for service, determined to "storm the works."

Jaruco is one of the great points of devastation; it is said that more people have died there than the entire town numbers in time of peace; it is still almost a city of reconcentrados.

Naturally, the inhabitants who survive have given all they had many times over in these terrible months. Everything is scarce and dear; even water has to be bought. This was the first point of attack. Twenty good soldiers, with only dirt and filth as enemies, can make some progress. Water by the dray load, lime by the barrel, brushes, brooms, blue for whitewash, hatchets, buckets and things most needful, made up the equipment; and late in the afternoon, when Mr. Elwell, who might well be termed the "Vigilant," returned to look after the work, preparatory to leaving for home, he found the four poor patients in clean clothes, on clean beds, in the sunshine, eating crackers and milk, the house cleaned, scrubbed, limed, and being whitewashed from ceiling to floor.

It will be finished to-morrow. Sunday and to-day (Monday), we ship cots, blankets, sheets, pillow-slips, all the first utensils needed to make a plain hospital for twenty-five, to be increased to fifty--the food to go regularly. The sick, lying utterly helpless in the hovels, to be selected with care and sent to the hospital, a nurse placed with them, the doctor already there in Jaruco to attend them, and send frequent reports of condition and needs. In two weeks time we may hope to see, not only a hospital that may bear the name, but progress of its patients that may be noted.

I am writing this at length, because it is the first of hundreds that should follow throughout the island, and a type of what we shall endeavor to accomplish.

It will naturally be asked if we expect the Spanish authorities to permit us to do this. Judging from to-day, we have reason to expect every co-operation. The commandant of the town was one of the men who welcomed us; and so far as they had the materials desired, offered them for our use; it was very well, as there were some we could get in no other way.

The crowd that followed us was bewildering--the little children in pitiful proportions. We had prepared ourselves for this by a large invoice of five-cent scrip. An intimation of our desire to the priest arranged the matter quickly. All under, perhaps, six to seven years old, were sent into the church to come out at a side door, with Mr. Elwell and myself on each side as doorkeepers. Every pale passing hand took its scrip, and the gladness that beamed in their little wan faces was good for angels' eyes. They rushed into the street, romping and tumbling like actual live children, which they had no longer seemed to be.

There was but one more feature to mark this memorable day. After leaving the hospital we were told that a deputation of ladies desired to call on us. We were in the house of a naturalized American citizen, and prepared to receive them. They entered slowly and reverently, the leader bearing a deep plate of choice flowers. As she handed them to me, I perceived in the center a large envelope with a half-inch border of black, and a black ribbon with a tied bow encircling it. The envelope was addressed to me. The first sentence, with tender, trembling voice, told the purport of it all: "For the dead of the Maine."

The crowd, full of hope and blessing, followed us to the train, and as we passed on, gentle, tender-eyed women came down the banks from their cottages with little baskets of flowers to be passed into the carriage--and ever the black-bordered tribute:

"To the dead of the Maine."
[ BLACK BORDER ]

It was long after dark when we reached our new home, and we were weary enough to find it welcome; but glad of our day's work, as a type of many more which we confidently expect will follow.

In our banking operations I learned the full address of our excellent hostess, which she had been too modest to name to me:

"Senora Serafina Moliner de Jorrin."
Titles: "Eccelentisima." "Ilustrisima."

We have always had occasion to feel those titles to be well deserved.

Indeed, in groping our way among the poor and helpless, we have found that Cuba is not without its diamonds of worth, nobleness and culture.

We were still searching diligently for a suitable location for the orphanage which I had been requested to open.

Through the social relations of Senora we were immediately put into communication with Senor José Almagro on Tulipan street, who placed at our disposal his own private residence, a charming house with large gardens, stables, swimming baths, fruit and flowers.

Members of the staff, Drs. Hubbell and Egan, together with Dr. and Mrs. Lesser, had meanwhile arrived by steamship from New York.

The diary goes on to say in regard to the orphanage, its location and surroundings:

"It seems to lack nothing. Large, commodious, healthful, easy of access, beautiful to elegance, with tropical gardens, royal palms, swimming baths, and capable of caring for two hundred children, either well or sick,--and for all this the modest, little rent of one hundred and two dollars per month. Attention was first directed to this piece of property on Saturday, February 27. At night the contract was made and signed. On Sunday--"tell it not in Gath"--oh, Christian world, be gentle in your judgment, if a few men, rather than stand about the streets, hunger-stricken, waiting for the crust that came not, earned a few welcome dollars on its frescoed walls, stained glass windows and marble floors.

"On Monday seventy-five new cots, blankets, pillows and sheets adorned its spacious rooms. On Tuesday, March 1, Mrs. Dr. Lesser, our practical "Sister Bettina," who had taken the superintendence, made the necessary outfit,--food and medicine from the warehouse; and from Los Fosos, that terrible den of suffering, the pale lifeless, helpless, starved little creatures to fill the waiting cots--a few good nurses to lift the heads that could not lift themselves and fill the mouths that had scarcely ever before been filled."

This, then, was the orphanage. May I be pardoned for saying reverently, we looked on our work and found it good, and felt that we might now leave the little, tired creatures to rest in the faithful hands that had so lovingly and intelligently taken them up, while we turned away to other fields.

MATANZAS.

Among the welcome, notable persons who from time to time visited us, led by their interest in the great suffering reported through the press, were Senator Redfield Proctor and his friend, Hon. M.M. Parker, of Washington, D.C. They had come imbued with the desire, not only to see the condition of the island and the people, but to try to find as well, what could be done for them,--to gain some practical knowledge which could be used for their benefit. There seemed to be no more certain way of their gaining this information than by inviting them to accompany us on the various tours of investigation which we would be now able to make outside of Havana. Reports of great suffering had come from Matanzas, and it was decided that _that_ should be our next point of inspection. The once-a-day run of the trains made early rising a necessity; and half-past four in the morning, dark and chilly, found us on the way to the train for Matanzas. Our own small party was joined at the ferry by our Washington friends, and together, as the train speeded on, we watched the gorgeous sunrise spread itself over these strangely deserted lands.

Matanzas has some fifty thousand of its own inhabitants, greatly increased by the reconcentrado element, which had gathered there to exist hopelessly in enforced idleness for nearly two years.

It is needless to say that all the diseases incident to exposure, physical want and mental woe, from gaunt, lingering hunger down to actual starvation and death, had developed among them. For some reason--possibly a sense of pity--our consul seemed to dread to show us their worst, which were evidently their hospitals, and hesitatingly led the way to other centres of the town. But there was no hesitancy on the part of the governor, Senor Francisco de Armas--a royal Cuban and a new appointee of Captain-General Blanco--with warm heart and polished manner, in welcoming us to his elegant mansion, and in bringing his wife, his mother and sister, to assist in receiving and to bid us welcome to all they had to offer or that we could desire. The half-hour's seance in that polished marble salon, with its spacious elegance, the deep feelings of the governor, the still deeper sympathy of the ladies, whose daily time is given to the poor sufferers around them, was a scene not to be forgotten. In all that was said, not a word of crimination, nor a disrespectful allusion to any person, or nation, or government; but the glistening eyes and trembling lips when the word _Americano_ was spoken, told how deep a root the course of our people had taken in the thrice harrowed soil of these poor broken hearts.

But the worst must be seen, and as we drove out of the town we halted for a short call at the municipal hospital, generally attended by sisters of charity, scantily provided it is true, but well cared for; a little is paid per week, either by, or, for each patient in this institution, which helps to keep up the general fund. Our welcome by the sisters was most cordial, and we were grateful for every faint smile that passed over each pallid face. A mile further on we came to the four hospitals where nothing was paid, and apparently nothing had. There were between one hundred and two hundred men, women and children, in all stages of hunger and disease. There were empty beds for as many more that could have been thrice filled from the huts outside; but the hospital authorities feared to take more in, lest they die through their inability to feed them. It is not my purpose to detail woe, nor picture horrors; I leave that to others, if more of it must be had; let my few words tell how they were met and how the comfort that could be given, was given, or at least attempted.

The purses and the pockets of our entire party were emptied, and as the cold, thin fingers closed feebly over the coin so strange to the touch, the murmured prayer for America fell from every lip. Our visit had been one of inspection, returning to Havana by the afternoon train.

The hospital committee and surgeons had been organized to work under our charge, and begging that one of our Red Cross men be temporarily assigned to them for their distribution, we turned our steps toward Havana, with a thankfulness unspoken in our hearts for the great head of our country who had asked for this food, the great-hearted people who had given it, and the efficient and tireless committee which had organized and sent it.

The train of next day took out supplies of cereal foods, condensed milk, malted milk, meal, rice, flour, crackers, meat, fish, farina, tomatoes, canned vegetables and fruits--more than enough to hold those four hospitals comfortable till the promised shipment by the "Bergen" from New York, direct to Matanzas, should arrive.

It was from information gathered by the party on this trip that Senator Proctor afterward made his speech in the U.S. Senate upon the condition of the reconcentrados.

[From a speech by Senator Redfield Proctor, of Vermont, in the U.S.
Senate, March 17, 1898.]

There are six provinces in Cuba, each, with the exception of
Matanzas, extending the whole width of the island, and having about
an equal sea front on the north and south borders. Matanzas touches
the Caribbean Sea only at its southwest corner, being separated from
it elsewhere by a narrow peninsula of Santa Clara Province. The
provinces are named, beginning at the west, Pinar del Rio, Havana,
Matanzas, Santa Clara, Puerto Principe and Santiago de Cuba.

My observations were confined to the four western provinces, which
constitute about one-half the island. The two eastern ones are
practically in the hands of the insurgents, except a few fortified
towns. These two large provinces are spoken of to-day as "Cuba
Libre."

Havana, the great city and capital of the island, is, in the eyes of
the Spaniards and many Cubans, all Cuba, as much as Paris in France.
But having visited it in more peaceful times and seen its sights,
the tomb of Columbus, the forts of Cabanas and Morro Castle, etc., I
did not care to repeat this, preferring trips in the country.

Everything seems to go on much as usual in Havana. Quiet prevails
and except for the frequent squads of soldiers marching to guard and
police duty and their abounding presence in all public places, one
sees little signs of war.

Outside Havana all is changed. It is not peace, nor is it war. It is
desolation and distress, misery and starvation.

Every town and village is surrounded by a trocha (trench) a sort of
rifle pit, but constructed on a plan new to me, the dirt being
thrown up on the inside and a barbed wire fence on the outer side of
the trench.

These trochas have at every corner, and at frequent intervals along
the sides, what are there called forts, but which are really small
block-houses, many of them more like a large sentry box, loop-holed
for musketry, and with a guard of from two to ten soldiers in each.
The purpose of these trochas is to keep reconcentrados in as well as
to keep the insurgents out.

From all the surrounding country the people have been driven into
these fortified towns and held there to subsist as they can. They
are virtually prison yards and not unlike one in general appearance,
except that the walls are not so high and strong, but they suffice,
where every point is in range of a soldier's rifle, to keep in the
poor reconcentrado women and children.

Every railroad station is within one of these trochas and has an
armed guard. Every train has an armored freight car, loop-holed for
musketry, and filled with soldiers and with, as I observed usually,
and was informed is always the case, a pilot engine a mile or so in
advance. There are frequent block-houses enclosed by a trocha and
with a guard along the railroad track. With this exception there is
no human life or habitation between these fortified towns and
villages throughout the whole of the four western provinces, except
to a very limited extent among the hills, where the Spaniards have
not been able to go and drive the people to the towns and burn their
dwellings.

I saw no house or hut in the 400 miles of railroad rides from Pinar
del Rio Province in the west across the full width of Havana and
Matanzas Provinces, and to Sagua La Grando on the north shore and to
Cienfuegos on the south shore of Santa Clara, except within the
Spanish trochas. There are no domestic animals or crops on the rich
fields and pastures except such as are under guard in the immediate
vicinity of the towns.

In other words, the Spaniards hold in these four western provinces
just what their army sits on.

Every man, woman and child and every domestic animal, wherever their
columns have reached, is under guard and within their so-called
fortifications. To describe one place is to describe all.

To repeat, it is neither peace nor war.

It is concentration and desolation. This is the "pacified" condition
of the four western provinces.

All the country people in the four western provinces, about 400,000
in number, remaining outside the fortified towns when Weyler's order
was made, were driven into these towns, and these are the
reconcentrados. They were the peasantry, many of them farmers, some
land-owners, others renting lands and owning more or less stock,
others working on estates and cultivating small patches, and even a
small patch in that fruitful clime will support a family.

It is but fair to say that the normal condition of these people was
very different from that which prevails in this country. Their
standard of comfort and prosperity was not high, measured by our
own, but according to their standards and requirements, their
conditions of life were satisfactory.

They lived mostly in cabins made of palm or in wooden houses. Some
of them had houses of stone, the blackened walls of which are all
that remains to show that the country was ever inhabited.

The first clause of Weyler's order reads as follows:

"I order and command:

"First--All the inhabitants of the country now outside of the line
of fortifications of the towns shall within the period of eight days
concentrate themselves in the town so occupied by the troops. Any
individual who after the expiration of this period is found in the
uninhabited parts will be considered a rebel and tried as such."

The other three sections forbid the transportation of provisions
from one town to another without permission of the military
authority, direct the owners of cattle to bring them into the towns,
prescribe that the eight days shall be counted from the publication
of the proclamation to the head town of the municipal districts, and
state that if news is furnished of the enemy which can be made use
of it will serve as a "recommendation."

Many doubtless did not learn of this order. Others failed to grasp
its terrible meaning. Its execution was left largely to the
guerillas to drive in all that had not obeyed, and I was informed
that in many cases a torch was applied to their homes with no
notice, and the inmates fled with such clothing as they might have
on, their stock and their belongings being appropriated by the
guerillas.

When they reached the town they were allowed to build huts of palm
leaves in the suburbs and vacant places within the trochas, and were
left to live if they could. Their huts are about ten by fifteen feet
in size, and for want of space are usually crowded together very
closely. They have no floor but the ground, and no furniture, and
after a year's wear but little clothing, except such stray
substitutes as they can extemporize.

With large families or with more than one in this little space, the
commonest sanitary provisions are impossible. Conditions are
unmentionable in this respect.

Torn from their homes, with foul earth, foul air, foul water and
foul food, or none, what wonder that one-half have died and that
one-quarter of the living are so diseased that they cannot be saved.

A form of dropsy is a common disorder resulting from these
conditions. Little children are still walking about with arms and
chests terribly emaciated, eyes swollen and abdomen bloated to three
times the natural size. The physicians say these cases are hopeless.

Deaths in the streets have not been uncommon. I was told by one of
our consuls that people have been found dead about the markets in
the morning where they had crawled hoping to get some stray bits of
food from the early hucksters, and that there had been cases where
they had dropped dead inside the market, surrounded by food.

These people were independent and self-supporting before Weyler's
order. They are not beggars even now. There are plenty of
professional beggars in every town among the regular residents, but
these country people, the reconcentrados, have not learned the art.
Rarely is a hand held out to you for alms when going among their
huts, but the sight of them makes an appeal stronger than words.

The hospitals--of these I need not speak; others have described
their condition far better than I can.

It is not within the narrow limits of my vocabulary to portray it. I
went to Cuba with a strong conviction that the picture had been
overdrawn; that a few cases of starvation and suffering had inspired
and stimulated the press correspondents, and that they had given
free play to a strong, natural and highly cultivated imagination.

I could not believe that out of a population of one million six
hundred thousand, 200,000 had died within these Spanish forts,
practically prison walls, within a few months past, from actual
starvation and disease caused by insufficient and improper food.

My inquiries were entirely outside of sensational sources. They were
made by our medical officers, of our consuls, of city alcaldes
(mayors), of relief committees, of leading merchants and bankers,
physicians and lawyers. Several of my informants were Spanish born,
but every time came the answer that the case had not been
overstated.

What I saw I cannot tell so that others can see it. It must be seen
with one's own eyes to be realized.

The Los Fosos Hospital, in Havana, has been recently described by
one of my colleagues, Senator Gallinger, and I cannot say that his
picture was overdrawn, for even his fertile pen could not do more.
He visited it after Dr. Lesser, one of Miss Barton's very able and
efficient assistants, had renovated it and put in cots.

I saw it when 400 women and children were lying on the stone floors
in an indescribable state of emaciation and disease, many with the
scantiest covering of rags, and such rags! and sick children, naked
as they came into the world. And the conditions in the other cities
are even worse.

Miss Barton and her work need no indorsement from me. I had known
and esteemed her for many years, but had not half appreciated her
capability and devotion to her work. I especially looked into her
business methods, fearing there would be the greatest danger of
mistake, that there might be want of system, waste and extravagance,
but found she could teach me on these points.

In short, I saw nothing to criticise, but everything to commend. The
American people may be assured that the bounty will reach the
sufferers with the least possible cost and in the best manner, in
every respect.

And if our people could see a small fraction of the need, they would
pour more "freely from their liberal store" than ever before for any
cause.

When will the need for this help end? Not until peace comes and the
reconcentrados can go back to their country, rebuild their homes,
reclaim their tillage plots, which quickly run up to brush in that
wonderful soil and clime, and until they can be free from danger of
molestation in so doing.

Until then the American people must in the main care for them. It is
true that the alcaldes, other authorities and relief committees are
now trying to do something, and desire, I believe, to do the best
they can. But the problem is beyond their means and capacity and the
work is one to which they are not accustomed.

General Blanco's order of November 13 last somewhat modifies the
Weyler order, but it is of little or no practical benefit. Its
application is limited to farms "properly defended," and the owners
are obliged to build "centres of defense."

ARTEMISA.

Whilst these various provisions and improvements in and around Havana, in the little orphanage and Los Fosos were going on, food was going out from the great warehouse upon requisition, to thirty or forty towns and villages in number, which no one had yet had the time to visit; and their first distribution must be made on trust. From many sources we had heard of the needs of Artemisa, several miles to the east by rail. As usual, there was but one train daily from Havana, and that, like the road we had traveled to Jaruco and Matanzas on the west, left at six o'clock in the morning, and also meant rising at half-past four, a carriage ride of three-quarters of an hour in the dark. Our party again formed, including Mr. Elwell, Drs. Hubbell and Egan, Senator Proctor, Colonel Parker and a few other attendants. The day was clear and fine, affording an excellent opportunity to observe the condition of the country as we passed through. There was entire lack of cultivation; the tall palm threw its stately shadow over miles of desolated, rolling and meadow land; no people in sight save in the little thatched hovels; no cattle, no tools, the rank, wild grass swarding the soil where the richest of crops belong; and we bringing food grown on the sterile fields of North America, among the gravel and rocks, with a quarter of the year under snow, nearly one-half under frost, to a country like this, where the verdure is perpetual and three crops possible, where the rain and the sun never fail, where land is abundant and yet where millions of hands want acres and millions of acres want hands. Heavenly Father, what is the matter with this beautiful earth that Thou hast made! "And, what is man that Thou art mindful of him!"

Eight o'clock in the bright morning sunshine found us at Artemisa. A brief examination by carriage served to show us where its defences had once been, now practically abandoned and the field of military activity drawn to other points.

We found here a most practical mayor, with two thousand to three thousand people about him almost entirely without food. Since November 24, until some three months ago, the Spanish government had issued small rations to these people, but these grew less and less, and finally stopped altogether. This small help from the government had saved the people thus far, but they were now beginning to be dangerously hungry. What gladness it was to feel that our provisions would fall in just in time to save, we hoped, the greater portion of those remaining.

The district of Artemisa had originally 10,000, and the town 2000 inhabitants. Into this small number 10,000 reconcentrados had been sent. Three thousand of these had died; some had strayed away to other places in the hope of more food and fewer persons to eat it; 5000 still remained. In August 770 persons died--now the death rate is 5 to 6 persons per day, or about 175 per month. We found only one hospital and this for smallpox, far out in the fields, with forty patients. There were three physicians who would be more than glad to make up a hospital--if there were anything to provide it with--attend to it personally, and find women who would care for the sick, as nurses. They were directed to do this at once, and suitable hospital food would be sent to them as soon as their hospital was reported ready for it. They were also directed to gather all the sick in the outlying hovels and bring them into hospitals. One of our physicians would go directly with the food and assist in the establishment of the institution. We remained over night; the distribution of food which had been sent them took place at seven the next morning. Their system of tickets was excellent; a better system of relief we had not seen. The mayor himself would visit every family and the physicians the same, until the sick would be all in hospitals. It was a welcome sight at eight o'clock that morning, when the crowd of waiting thousands stood around the mayor, to see the tight hand grasp on the bag of rations, like a godsend from heaven when hope was lost. The mayor had a thousand acres of land lying within the military lines of fortifications, which he offered free for the use of the people, if they could get permission, and if the people could help to cultivate it. In three months, he said, under their own cultivation it would feed them all.

Our work at Artemisa closed at noon and we returned to Havana.

SAGUA LA GRANDE.

Referring again to the diary I find the following record:

Sagua la Grande and Cienfuegos yet remain within our limits to be
reached at once. We have not a day to lose, and again leave at six
o'clock for Sagua la Grande. This means the usual morning ride in
the dark, the ferry and the beautiful opening of the day speeding on
through a strange land of waste and desolation. Our same company
assembled, and as we neared Sagua we were met by our friend, Consul
Barker, and later on the mayor, Senor Machado. Carriages were taken
and inspection made of the reconcentrados, their condition and
needs, the land, etc. While there is evidently great want here,
there is still an atmosphere of care and effort on the part of the
best people and the officials which fills one with an earnest desire
to help them on. The best place possible for the poor had been
provided by the mayor, and as he passed among them, pointing out to
us especial cases and conditions, their eyes followed him with a
look of grateful devotion. While sympathizing with all, his deepest
care seemed to be for the young girls; to find some occupation for
them, and some protection. The plan most feasible to him was the
starting of a cigarette factory where the hundreds might be
employed, with suitable time for instruction, earn their living, and
be kept out of danger. I am glad to know that he is partially
succeeding in this, and also that he had, and I think still has, the
earnest co-operation of our good consul at Sagua, Mr. Barker.

The day had been very fully occupied, and we must remain until
morning to witness the operation of the kitchens established by the
consul and the mayor, where the poor are fed with well-cooked rice,
beans and such vegetables as can be obtained.

These people are desperately poor, and need all the help that can be
given them, and yet they are not in the condition of the people of
Matanzas. Their doctors are caring for the sick, and the ladies of
the town giving every assistance in their power. The mayor again
reverts to his great interest in the young girls; "Here is the
greatest danger of all. Can you not help me out with this?" His
earnestness made such an impression upon me that I finally asked if
he had young daughters of his own. He hesitated a moment, and then
with a look of confidence, as if he were about to entrust a secret
to me, he replied: "We have an adopted daughter, who is very, very
dear to us. She is the sister of Miss Cisneros, but does not know
it, and we have not the courage to tell her. She is some fourteen or
fifteen years of age, has read everything regarding Miss Cisneros,
and admires her intensely, but never mistrusts the relationship."
"Will you not tell her?" I asked. "Oh yes; some day," he replied,
"and it must be before long; but the relationships are so sweet that
my wife and I both dread to break them. Of course, some day we must
tell her, but we put it off as long as we can." He then explained
that the father had been an active patriot and fell under political
censure; in his imprisonment the family was broken up, and this
little girl, then a mere babe, had been adopted by the mayor and his
wife, who were intimate friends of the family. I hope I have not
betrayed a trust; but there was a little touch of romance in
this--something so sweet and paternal in the relationship--and
something altogether so interesting in the thought of this bright
young girl reading and admiring the courage and successful exploits
of her own sister, without ever dreaming that it was anything to
her--it seems really too good a point to keep dark. I trust that the
good mayor, if he ever learns that I have betrayed his trust, will
forgive me.

CIENFUEGOS.

Although a rather early train on the next day would take us to Cienfuegos, the visit to the kitchens with their great, steaming cauldrons of food must not be passed by. Although it was simply beans, rice, such other dry vegetables as could be obtained, and the little meat or lard that came with the ration, slowly and thoroughly cooked, it was still a food that any good appetite could appreciate--wholesome, clean and as abundant as the circumstances would permit. It was a pleasure to see the children and the mothers come up with the little pails and buckets and receive the one large ladle of food, steaming hot from the cauldron, and bear it cheerfully away for the coming meal. There was a degree of order and systematic thought in this rarely met under occasions so grave. It will remain ever a happy memory with Consul Barker and the good mayor of Sagua, that under their wise direction this system was instituted and carried out. The courtesies of the railroad were cheerfully extended to us, and without incident worth relating the night found us at Cienfuegos. The country round about Cienfuegos is favorable to cultivation; the troubles there had been of a less grave nature, consequently the suffering has been less. Judging from the report of the consul, there had been very little; but to our stranger eyes, upon personal observation, there were traces of something not compatible with thrift, prosperity and happiness. We were sure that some help might be comfortably given there, and made our preparations accordingly. This also was a visit of investigation, and being Tuesday, the next day's boat from Havana to the States must take our good friends from us, and an early start, over a long, jolting road, took us from Cienfuegos back to Havana.

BACK TO HAVANA.

Our journey through the three or four districts had shown us the worst of human suffering, the greatest of desolation, and a degree of discouragement as hard perhaps to rally the people from as the absolute physical conditions under which they existed. We had arranged for food for all. The ships with their various consignments were already on the way, the "Fern" to Matanzas, a shipment from the Philadelphia Red Cross on the "Bergen," also bound for Matanzas, from both of which supplies could go forward to Artemisa and Sagua, for the railroads were generous in giving free transportation; and we were informed that a shipment was also en route for Cienfuegos. Remembering our own generous shipment of food to Matanzas of the third instant, we felt that we might give the time of a day or two to the institutions we were founding and supporting in Havana. The little hospital was growing finely, increasing in numbers, and the numbers increasing in strength. The frail, pale creatures were commencing to sit up in bed and hold the playthings that generous friends had brought them by the basketful; some even walked about and tried to play. Their heavenly godmother, "Sister Bettina," was providing everything for their comfort, also for their nurses and the little household that made up a pattern hospital. Dr. Lesser had established a clinic on the grounds, and under the shade of the great, beautiful garden trees the poor invalids of the town assembled by the hundred each afternoon with the various maladies that misfortune, poverty and neglect had brought them. The gratitude which their strange tongues spoke in evident blessing upon him who had thought to come to their relief, and the great brown eyes that followed him as he turned quickly and gently from one to another, were pictures not to be forgotten.

Los Fosos, on the other hand, was fast losing its terrors. A regular distribution of American food had gone into it, and even rooms were partitioned off for a dispensary, fairly well provided with medicines, and another for clothing and bedding fast filling up from our warehouse were all in grateful operation. All had beds, the floors and stairs were strengthened, and the food went regularly through twice a day among all the waiting inmates. M. Sr. J. Palacios y Airoso, the Consul of Bolivia, and a member of our committee, had volunteered to take personal charge, and his fine, manly form seen day by day among these poor, suffering creatures, watching and providing their wants, was like a benediction from heaven. And Sister Bettina, with her band of faithful nurses, soon carried strong traces of order and cleanliness where it had once seemed impossible.