the gate, an officer were to bow
and say, "Dr. Howe?" "Yes, sir." "You may remain here. There is a charge
against you of seditious language, since you have been in the island."
No man would meet such a danger more calmly, and say less about it, than
he, if he thought duty to his fellow-beings called him to it.

The open air, the chainless ocean, and the ships freely coming and
going, were a pleasant change to the eye, even of one who had never
suffered bonds for conscience sake. It seemed strange to see that all
persons outside were doing as they pleased.

XVIII.

HAVANA: Bullfight

A bullfight has been advertised all over the town, at the Plaza de
Toros. Shall we go? I would not, if it were only pleasure that I was
seeking. As I am sure I expect only the contrary, and wish merely to
learn the character of this national recreation, I will go.

The Plaza de Toros is a wooden amphitheater, in the suburbs, open at the
top--a circle of rising seats, with the arena in the center. I am late.
The cries of the people inside are loud, sharp, and constant; a full
band is blowing its trumpets and beating its drums; and the late
stragglers are jostling for their tickets. I go through at a low door,
find myself under benches filled with an eager, stamping, shouting
multitude, make my way through a passage, and come out on the shady
side, for it is a late afternoon sun, and take my place at a good point
of view. A bull, with some blood about his fore-quarters and two or
three darts (banderillas) sticking in his neck, is trotting harmlessly
about the arena, "more sinned against than sinning," and seeming to have
no other desire than to get out. Two men, each carrying a long, stout,
wooden pole, pointed with a short piece of iron, not long enough to
kill, but only to drive off and to goad, are mounted on two of the
sorriest nags eyes ever beheld--reprieved jades, whom it would not pay
to feed and scarcely pay to kill, and who have been left to take their
chances of death here. They could hardly be pricked into a trot, and
were too weak to escape. I have seen horses in every stage of life and
in every degree of neglect, but no New York Negro hack-driver would have
taken these for a gift, if he were obliged to keep them. The bull could
not be said to run away from the horses, for they did not pursue; but
when, distracted by sights and sounds, he came against a horse, the
horse stood still to be gored, and the bull only pushe