The Pearl of the Antilles, or An Artist in Cuba

A MULATTO GIRL

An Obscure Birth – Bondage – A Bad Master – A Good God-Father – A Cuban Christening – Anomaly of Slavery – A White Lover – Rivals – An Important Event

My contemplated departure for New York is for many days postponed by the unexpected meeting with Don Benigno's family, who, under extraordinary circumstances presently to be related, have recently arrived in the Havana.

My old friends are also bound for the great American city; but at present they are full of preparations for the approaching marriage between Don Benigno's eldest daughter, Paquita and the young Spanish officer, Don Manuel. The latter has lately received a military appointment in the Cuban capital, and as he contemplates residing there with his future bride, Don Benigno is anxious that the wedding shall take place with as little delay as possible.

Before that event, and before Don Benigno and the rest of his family leave with me for New York, I am made acquainted with the fact, that another marriage will be shortly celebrated in the Don's family, and that the betrothed lady is no other than Don Benigno's adopted daughter, the fair Ermiña!

Don Benigno tells me that for certain reasons this wedding will not take place in the Ever-faithful Isle. What those reasons are, and how my curiosity respecting the past of the pretty mulatto girl is at last gratified, will appear in the following brief narrative, which, as the matter contained in it was chiefly derived from the young lady herself, I propose to repeat as nearly as possible in her own words.

I was bought and paid for before I was born.

My own mother bargained for, and finally secured me, for the sum of twenty-five dollars. A kind of speculative interest was attached to my nativity. Had my sale not been effected previous to my appearance in the world, I should have become the property of my mother's master, who, in accordance with the laws of serfdom, might then dispose of me, if he pleased, at a rate far exceeding my mother's slender savings; and, if nature had destined me for a healthy boy instead of a girl, my value would have been still greater.

My mother was a slave belonging to a wealthy coffee-planter. Of my father I know little, save that he was a white man, and that being a professed gambler and deeply in debt, he disappeared from Cuba shortly before I was ushered into the world. His flight concerned no one more than my mother, for he had promised to purchase her liberty for a thousand dollars, which was the price demanded by her owner.

There was no world to censure my parent for the trouble she had brought upon herself, because, in a slave-country, little importance is attached to such a common occurrence as the birth of a mulatto. My mother's master would have exhibited a similar indifference, if, indeed, he would not have rejoiced at the event – for it added a few dollars to his exchequer – were it not for the fact that Don Vicente had a secret motive for great displeasure. His slave was a mulatto, belonging to the fair class known as quadroons. My mother was a comely specimen of her race, and Don Vicente, being well aware of this, had his own reasons for qualifying her conduct as an act of disobedience. This act he determined should receive punishment, and accordingly, when his human property was convalescent, she was removed, with her infant, to one of Don Vicente's estates, and there cruelly flogged!

You may be sure that this severe treatment did not increase my mother's affection for Don Vicente, and, in spite of his dreadful threat to employ his slave as a common coffee-picker – which, for a mulatto, accustomed to the luxuries of town life, is worse than sending her to the galleys – my mother remained true to herself.

Finding menaces of no avail, and afraid of disturbing his domestic tranquillity, Don Vicente abandoned his purpose and advertised his human property for hire at so much per month. In its way, this was a sore trial for my dear parent, for although she heartily loathed her master, she was greatly attached to his family, at whose hands she had known only kindness and humanity. Her new master might prove to be as bad as, or even worse than, her owner, and such a prospect was far from pleasant. She was, however, agreeably disappointed.

Don Benigno responded to the advertisement, and would have purchased my mother outright, but the times were critical, and the worthy gentleman could not afford the exorbitant price demanded for her. He, however, agreed to hire my parent, who was forthwith removed, with her free-born child, to her new habitation.

Don Benigno was of course the kindest of masters; in proof of which, his first act, after procuring my mother's temporary release, was to interest himself in her child's baptism. For this purpose, he ordered that every formality connected with this ceremony should be rigidly observed. He himself officiated as godfather, and, in accordance with custom, invited my mother's relatives and friends to be present at the festivities, which were to be held at a small farm on one of his estates. As is usual on such occasions, my generous godfather sent a 'baptismal token' to every guest. The nearest relatives received an 'escudo de oro,' or two-dollar piece. The next of kin were presented with pesetas, while the friends were favoured with silver medios. Each token was pierced with a 'lucky' hole, to which was attached a piece of coloured ribbon, with my name and the date of my birth printed in gold letters on either side. The ceremony of christening being over, Don Benigno gave a grand banquet and a ball, at his farm-house, to which all the farmers and white country people in the neighbourhood were invited.

My kind godfather was in the habit of investing a 'doblón' of four dollars every month in the Havana lottery; and he promised that if he should succeed in drawing a prize, he would devote part of the amount to the purchase of my mother. But no such good fortune ever happened to the worthy gentleman, although, upon more than one occasion, he expended a whole 'onza' in tickets.

Nothing worthy of note transpired during the early years of my childhood. My health was all that could be desired after my teething – an operation whose successful issue, it was confidently believed, was due to the bone necklace which I wore from my birth, and which the good people of my country consider acts as a charm against the evils imminent to infancy.

Don Benigno's children – who were somewhat older than myself – were my closest companions. We were, indeed, more like sisters together, than young mistresses and maid. As for my dear godfather and Doña Mercedes – they treated me as a pet child.

Before I had turned fourteen, I was already a grown woman, and, as far as outward appearance, as white as it is possible for my caste to be. With the exception of my lips, which are, as you observe, somewhat prononcé, and the whites of my eyes, which are slightly tinged with yellow, there is no perceptible difference between me and those creoles whose origin is less doubtful than my own.

Despite, however, my personal attractions, I was fully conscious of the nice distinction between white and white about which the people of my country are so jealously exacting; and my dark origin always formed a barrier between me and my thoroughbred sisters. Whenever Don Benigno, or his family, addressed me as 'Mulatica,' 'Chinita,' or 'Negrita,' I sometimes thought of the literal meaning of those endearing epithets!

Tunicú, as you know, was always a frequent visitor at Don Benigno's tertulia, but at the period to which I now refer, he used to pass some hours with us during the daytime. I think Tunicú always admired me more than he did Don Benigno's daughters, and now that I was a grown woman, he often gave expression to his sentiments. I was by no means insensible to Tunicú's attentions, for he was a handsome young gentleman, with a dark brown moustache and imperial to match. His complexion, too, was several shades darker than my own, though this, of course, did not detract from the purity of his descent, which was apparent in the clear white of his eyeballs, the transparent pink of his finger nails, and other signs peculiar to offspring of white parents.

Our admiration for one another gradually developed itself into something more serious, until one day Tunicú gave me to understand that he loved me truly. I think he was sincere, at least I chose to believe so, and, besides, he gave daily proof of his preference for me to the whitest ladies of his acquaintance.

Notwithstanding this, the wide gulf of origin which existed between Tunicú and me could not be concealed, and was continually made manifest. My white lover was passionately fond of dancing, and frequently attended at the balls given at the Philharmonic, where I dared not be seen, save in the capacity of spectator. Crowds of coloured people were permitted, like myself, to watch the dancing from a distance, but none were allowed to trespass upon the hallowed threshold. The same stern rule separated me and my lover at the Retreta in the public square. I might stand, with others of my class, on the broad terrace of the cathedral and watch the promenaders, or listen to the military band; but I dared not be seen with the unsullied gentlefolks below. Occasionally, Tunicú would desert his white companions, and ascending the broad steps of the cathedral, pass the rest of the evening in my society. On these occasions I should have felt supremely happy, but for the painful thought that Tunicú was sacrificing his position for my sake. The white ladies, who visited at Don Benigno's, though sometimes deigning to notice me, out of compliment to their host, secretly hated and despised me; and if they did not actually scandalise me behind my back, they never forgot to remind those around them of my parentage, and of the unquestionable difference which existed between us.

Then there was my mother, whose cruel fate was ever a dark cloud in my happiest moments with my lover. Thanks to her, I was a free-born woman, while she, alas! still endured a state of bondage. I often wished that I might be enabled to turn to profitable account the education which I had received through Don Benigno's bounty, and in this manner earn enough to pay for my parent's liberty; but, unfortunately, there are no governesses in Cuba, and what white lady of respectability would care to send her child to my school, supposing that I had been able to set up such an establishment?

Sometimes I indulged in the wild hope that Tunicú might one day take me to a foreign country, where my past would be ignored, and where we might be married without regard to the opinion of the world. But my lover, though always full of projects and promises, had never once alluded to the subject of matrimony. People broadly hinted that my Tunicú was a libertine, like some of his companions and that he had no intention of making me his wife; but we were both favoured with rivals whose interest it was to speak in these terms. My rivals were the white ladies, who were jealous of Tunicú's attentions to me, and who never forgot to openly express their indignation at the relationship which they knew to exist between me and my lover. Tunicú's rivals were even more numerous; some of them would show their regard for me by serenading under my window with a band of music, upon such occasions as my saint's day, or during the fiestas. I dared not exhibit an indifference to these attentions, without transgressing certain social laws of the country; besides, I found that Tunicú himself did not disapprove of them – he never explained why, but I suppose he considered these little attentions as a sort of acknowledgment of his good taste, or, perhaps, they afforded a proof to him of my constancy.

The boldest of my admirers was a young half-caste called Frasquito, whose mulatto-father was a wealthy tobacco trader and held a high position among the Cuban merchants.

Frasquito was an occasional visitor at Don Benigno's, for, being an accomplished musician, he was a great acquisition when a dance was given at our residence. Once he composed a Cuban danza, and dedicated it to me, calling it after my name: 'La Bella Ermiña.'

Frasquito was perfectly aware of my relations with Tunicú, but he must have regarded them with the same levity as others did; for, one day, happening to be alone with my admirer, he, to my great confusion and surprise, made me an offer of marriage; assuring me that his father had already approved of his choice, and promising that if I would accept him for a husband, he would, previous to the marriage ceremony, procure my beloved mother's liberty.

I fear that my reply was unsatisfactory to both of us. I could not tell him with truth that I was betrothed to another, because, though that other had long appropriated my heart, he had never openly asked my hand. It was equally difficult to show why I did not avail myself of this opportunity for effecting my mother's emancipation; and Frasquito knew too well that I would make any personal sacrifice to release my beloved parent from bondage.

I, however, told Frasquito that his offer had so taken me by surprise, that he must give me time to consider of it, and that in the meanwhile he must never allude to the subject.

Tunicú, to whom alone I confided what had passed between me and my admirer, scouted the notion of my alliance with the 'son of a nigger,' as he expressed it; but strange to tell, he did not seem angry at the fact of matrimony having been proposed by another.

'You are too fair and too refined,' said he, 'for the son of a black man. When you marry, you must be wedded to somebody having better antecedents than that, Ermiña mia.'

I felt the truth of his remark, and now began to consider my late offer in the light of an insult. The mulatto's pretensions to my hand must surely, I thought, have been induced by his knowledge of my birth, for he would not have ventured to make such a proposal to a white woman; and perfectly aware of my secret attachment, he seemed to have implied that I was incapable of commanding the true love of a white man. Impressed with these reflections, I resolved to test the truth of the mulatto's inuendos, and, for the first time, I broached to Tunicú the subject nearest my heart.

'Do you think, mi amor,' said I to my lover, 'that I shall ever marry as well as you could desire?'

Tunicú paused, before replying to my question, and then observed – turning his gaze from me as he spoke: —

'Why should not mi Ermiña marry well? She is young, beautiful, accomplished – '

– 'and the daughter of a slave!' I added; my eyes moistening as I uttered the terrible words.

For a few moments my lover remained silent and pensive Then recovering himself, he began to converse in his old, confident, assuring manner, gratifying my imagination with pictures of events which were never to happen, and promising things impossible to be realised. At least nothing ever did happen as Tunicú had predicted, while one event shortly transpired which in his wildest dreams had never occurred to him.

That event was the Cuban insurrection, which, as you know, has already affected the lives of hundreds of my unhappy countrymen and countrywomen; but in what manner it would concern our future destinies, neither Tunicú nor I could possibly foretell.

CHAPTER XXVIII.

A MULATTO GIRL (continued)

The Slave Trade – Ermiña and her Lover – Panics – 'Los Insurrectos' v. 'Los Voluntaries' – A Wounded Patriot – Spanish Law and Cuban Law – The 'Mambís' – A Promise – An Alarm – All's Well that Ends Well

You already know how, during the early stages of the Cuban revolution, the inhabitants of Santiago were called upon to enroll themselves as volunteers; that those who evaded the order were regarded with suspicion, in many cases arrested, and occasionally shot after a mock trial; that others who preferred to abandon the town, were punished for their want of loyalty to their rulers, who confiscated their property. My good benefactor, Don Benigno, was too old to enlist and even more disinclined to fight against his countrymen, the rebels; so when the cholera broke out, he made this a pretext for escaping the vigilance of the authorities, and fled with his family and belongings to a farm on his sugar estate. My mother would have accompanied us, but for a circumstance which obliged her to remain in the town. Her rightful owner, Don Vicente, had in one day lost half his fortune; the rebels having encamped at his principal estate and utterly despoiled it. Four hundred negroes employed on this estate had joined the revolutionists, and as each slave was valued, on the average, at five hundred dollars, the loss which Don Vicente sustained may be easily estimated. To provide against fresh losses, Don Vicente determined to sell all that still remained to him, and embark with his family for a more peaceful country. He hoped to realise a large amount from the sale of his town slaves, and as my mother represented no insignificant item in this valuable property, she was, of course, included in the list of vendibles. I was in despair!

'Tunicú, del alma!' said I to my lover, 'if you are as devoted to me as you profess to be, buy – borrow – beg my beloved parent; but don't let her fall into strange hands!' My dread lest she should become the property of an utter stranger, drove me to this appeal.

Tunicú was equal to the occasion, as he always was; whether with the same disappointing result in view, I could not tell.

'Ermiña de mi corazon!' he replied, 'I am not in a position to buy your mother. Don Benigno has already borrowed her and must now return her. To beg her is out of the question. But I think I have a more practical plan. It may not agree with the laws of this country, and it must be attended with great personal risk; but I will try it.'

I looked inquiringly.

'I am aware, 'continued Tunicú, with one of his pleasant smiles, 'that in the course of true love it rarely happens that in order to prove his affection for his mistress, the lover must first elope with his lady-love's mother; but circumstances create strange situations, and under the present circumstances, I see no other alternative than to run away with your parent.'

Conscious of the great risk attending such an enterprise, and of the terrible consequences which would inevitably result from an untimely discovery, I begged that Tunicú would reveal to me his plan of operations. But to this he objected.

'No,' said he, 'I have found of late that my outspoken projects have exhausted themselves in words, so you must allow me, for this once, to keep my own counsel.'

My lover's unusual reply somehow inspired me with greater confidence than anything he had ever uttered: so, woman though I was, I determined to restrain my curiosity.