ysical. One sees, in imagination, Cervera's squadron "bottled up" in
the beautiful harbor, while Sampson's ships lie outside waiting for it to
come out. It is difficult to forget San Juan Hill and El Caney, a few
miles behind the city, and remember only its older stories. A good deal of
history has been made here in the last four hundred years. Its pages
show such names as Velasquez, Grijalva, Hernan Cortes, and Narvaez, and
centuries later, Cespedes, Marti, and Palma. Here was enacted the grim
tragedy of the _Virginius_, and here was the conflict that terminated
Spain's once vast dominion in the western world. My own impression is
that most of its history has already been written, that it will have no
important future. As a port of shipment, I think it must yield to the new
port, Nipe Bay, on the north coast. It is merely a bit of commercial logic,
the question of a sixty-mile rail-haul as compared with a voyage around the
end of the island. Santiago will not be wiped from the map, but I doubt its
long continuance as the leading commercial centre of eastern Cuba. It is
also a fairly safe prediction that the same laws of commercial logic will
some day operate to drain northward the products of the fertile valley of
the Cauto, and the region behind old Manzanillo and around the still older
Bayamo.
[Illustration: COBRE _Oriente Province_]
Except the places earlier mentioned, Jucaro, Trinidad and Cienfuegos, there
are no southern ports to the west until Batabano is reached, immediately
south of, and only a few miles from, the city of Havana. It is a shallow
harbor, of no commercial importance. It serves mainly as the centre of a
sponge-fishing industry, and as a point of departure for the Isle of Pines,
and for ports on the south coast. The Isle of Pines is of interest for a
number of reasons, among which are its history, its mineral springs, its
delightful climate, and an American colony that has made much trouble
in Washington. Columbus landed there in 1494, and gave it the name _La
Evangelista_. It lies about sixty miles off the coast, almost due south
from Havana. Between the island and the mainland lies a labyrinth of islets
and keys, many of them verdure-clad. Its area is officially given as 1,180
square miles. There seems no doubt that, at some earlier time, it formed a
part of the main island, with which it compares in geologic structure and
configuration. It is now, in effect, two islands connected by a marsh; th
|