gloomy Morro Castle is familiar in the
chronicles of the war. It stands guard at the water-gate of the city,
a grim-visaged dungeon that echoes with the despairing groans of more
victims of cruel oppression than can ever be counted. A more cheerful
landmark is the old Cathedral, looking as if it dates further back than
1724, cooped up in its crowded quarter. Here rest the ashes of Columbus,
say the faithful, and they are probably right. He died in Spain May 20,
1506. In 1856, his bones were brought to San Domingo and from there were
transferred in January, 1796, to this Cathedral, where they rest in the
wall behind the bust and tablet to his memory. The elaborate monument
under the dome is a splendid work of art. Four life-size sculptured
ecclesiastics bear a sarcophagus on their shoulders. There is also a
supposed portrait bust on a mural tablet.

The Spanish element in the city is popularly said to be an exaggeration
of the old country quality. The Tacon theatre holds three thousand
people. Cafes and restaurants abound, and never lack customers. Some day
Havana may be transformed into a nearer Paris, with a larger American
colony than haunts the dearer city across the sea. Cuba has nearly
the same area as England. The Province of Havana has a population of
452,000, of whom 107,500 are black. Large tracts of the island have not
yet been explored. The long years of intermittent battling between
the Cubans and Spaniards have grievously hindered progress in all
directions. Nature is bountiful beyond belief, yet her overtures have
been scorned, partly because of native inertia, but mainly through dread
of loss. Both sides have been guilty of laying waste vast areas of
cultivated land, ruining its husbandmen, capitalists and laborers alike.
The millennium bids fair to come before long. Peace is restoring
confidence. The reign of justice will bring capital and labor back to
the soil and tempt American migration to the cities and towns, where
life can be lived so enjoyably by those who bring modern methods and
ideas to bear in the task of converting a man-made wilderness into an
alluring paradise. Not long ago an American bought seventy acres of
ground in Trinidad valley, which he cleared and planted at a cost of
$3,070 for the first year. The second year's cultivation cost $1,120. He
made it a banana orchard. At the end of the second year he had realized
$30,680 net profit by the sale of his crop of 54,000 bunches.

Havana