captured early in the war
and sent to the African prison, Centa; whence he escaped later on with
Quintin Bandera and others of his staff. The last named Negro Colonel
is to-day a prominent figure. "Quintin Bandera" means "fifteen flags,"
and the appellation was bestowed upon him by his grateful countrymen
after he had captured fifteen Spanish ensigns. Everybody seems to
have forgotten his real name, and Quintin Bandera he will remain in
history. While in the African penal settlement the daughter of a
Spanish officer fell in love with him. She assisted in his escape and
fled with him to Gibraltar. There he married his rescuer. She is of
Spanish and Moorish descent, and is said to be a lady of education
and refinement. She taught her husband to read and write and feels
unbounded pride in his achievements.

The noted General Jesus Rabi, of the Cuban Army, is of the same mixed
blood as the Maceos. Another well-known Negro commander is General
Flor Crombet, whose patriotic deeds have been dimmed by his atrocious
cruelties. Among all the officers now swarming Havana none attracts
more admiring attention than General Ducasse, a tall, fine-looking
mulatto, who was educated at the fine military school of St. Cyr. He
is of extremely polished manners and undeniable force of character,
can make a brilliant address and has great influence among the masses.
To eject such a man as he from a third rate foreign restaurant in his
own land would be ridiculous. His equally celebrated brother, Col.
Juan Ducasse, was killed last year in the Pinar del Rio insurrection.

COLORED MEN'S ACHIEVEMENTS.

Besides these sons of Mars, Cuba has considered her history enriched
by the achievements of colored men in peaceful walks of life. The
memory of Gabriel Concepcion de la Valdez the mulatto poet, is
cherished as that of a saint. He was accused by the Spanish government
of complicity in the slave insurrection of 1844 and condemned to be
shot in his native town, Matanzas. One bright morning in May he stood
by the old statue of Ferdinand VII. in the Plaza d'Armas, calmly
facing a row of muskets, along whose shining barrels the sun glinted.
The first volley failed to touch a vital spot. Bleeding from several
wounds, he still stood erect, and, pointing to his heart, said in a
clear voice, "Aim here!" Another mulatto author, educator and profound
thinker was Antonio Medina, a priest and professor of San Basilio
the Greater. He acquired wide reputation