lves into a
secret society, which is doubtless still sustained, with the avowed
purpose of exercising its ability and means to free Cuba, sooner or
later, from the Spanish yoke.

The city of Havana is surrounded by a high wall and ditch, and its gates
are always strictly guarded by soldiery, no stranger being permitted to
pass unchallenged. The streets, which are extremely narrow, are all
Macadamized, and cross each other at right angles, like those of
Philadelphia and some other American cities. There are no sidewalks,
unless a narrow line of flag-stones which are level with the surface of
the street may be so called. Indeed, the people have little use for
sidewalks, for they drive almost universally about town in place of
walking, being thus borne about in that peculiar vehicle, a volante. A
woman of respectability is never seen on foot in the streets, and this
remark, as singular as it may sound to our Broadway and
Washington-street belles, is applicable even to the humblest classes;
unless, indeed, it be the fruit women from the country, with their
baskets richly laden upon their heads, while they cry the names of
their tempting burdens in the long drawling Spanish style.

The architecture of the city houses is exceedingly heavy, giving to them
an appearance of great age. They are constructed so as almost
universally to form squares in their centres, which constitutes the only
yard which the house can have, and upon which the lofty arches of the
corridor look down. The lower story is always occupied as storeroom,
kitchen, and stable, (think of a suite of drawing-rooms over a stable!)
while the universal volante blocks up in part the only entrance to the
house. From this inner court-yard a wide flight of steps leads to the
second story, from the corridor of which all the rooms open, giving them
an opening front and rear on two sides at least. As peculiar as this
mode of building may seem, it is nevertheless well adapted to the
climate, and one becomes exceedingly well satisfied with the
arrangement.

An air of rude grandeur reigns over all the structure, the architecture
being mainly Gothic and Saracenic. The rooms are all lofty, and the
floors are stuccoed or tiled, while the walls and ceilings are
frequently ornamented in fresco, the excellence of the workmanship of
course varying in accordance with the owner's or occupant's means, and
his ability to procure an artist of high or _mediocre_ talent. But the
most