but what at
Port Royal is a sand-spit eight miles long, is at Havana a rocky
peninsula on which the city itself is built. The opening from the sea is
half a mile wide. On the city side there are low semicircular batteries
which sweep completely the approaches and the passage itself. The Moro
rises opposite at the extreme point of the entrance, and next to it,
farther in towards the harbour on the same side, on the crest and slopes
of a range of hills, stands the old Moro, the original castle which beat
off Drake and Oliver's sea-generals, and which was captured by the
English in the last century. The lines were probably weaker than they
are at present, and less adequately manned. A monument is erected there
to the officers and men who fell in the defence.

[Illustration: HAVANA, FROM THE QUARRIES]

The city as we steamed by looked singularly beautiful, with its domes
and steeples and marble palaces, and glimpses of long boulevards and
trees and handsome mansions and cool arcades. Inside we found ourselves
in a basin, perhaps of three miles diameter, full of shipping of all
sorts and nationalities. The water, which outside is pure as sapphire,
has become filthy with the pollutions of a dozen generations. The tide,
which even at the springs has but a rise and fall of a couple of feet,
is totally ineffective to clear it, and as long as they have the Virgin
Mary to pray to, the pious Spaniards will not drive their sewage into
the ocean. The hot sun rays stream down into the thick black liquid.
Horrible smells are let loose from it when it is set in motion by screw
or paddle, and ships bring up at mooring buoys lest their anchors should
disturb the compost which lies at the bottom. Yet one forgot the
disagreeables in the novelty and striking character of the scene. A
hundred boats were plying to and fro among the various vessels, with
their white sails and white awnings. Flags of all countries were blowing
out at stern or from masthead; among them, of course, the stars and
stripes flying jauntily on some splendid schooner which stood there like
a cock upon a dunghill that might be his own if he chose to crow for it.

As soon as we had brought up we were boarded by the inevitable hotel
touters, custom-house officers, porters, and boatmen. Interpreters
offered their services in the confusion of languages. Gradually there
emerged out of the general noise two facts of importance. First, that I
ought to have had a passport, an