ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

New Zealand Mail, Issue 1367, 12 May 1898, Page 23

ECHOES OF THE WEEK.

Satire's my weapon, but I'm too disoreei To run amuok and tilt at all 1 meet. Pope,

BY SCRUTATOR.

The Dons went down at Manila before the heavily armoured vessels of the American squadron, but the defeated exhibited all the gallantry for which their , ancestors were famous in the sixteenth century, in the days when Drake and Hawkins made things so sultry in the West Indies. Even Charles Kingsley, who hated the Spaniards with as devout a hatred as an Englishman in Nelson's time hated the French, paid eloquent testimony to their bravery, and in his studies of the Elizabethan seamen and his "English in the West Indies,'- Froude, who also loved not the Dons over much, cheerfully accords them the same tribute. And now at Manila the descendants of the Dons of Drake's day go down with their ships, " colours nailed to the mast, the lower guns firing to the last.'* When the history of the war comes to.be written the world will want to know the names of the commander of the Don Antonio Ulloa and his gallant officers.

Just now I referred to the days of Drake, that hero buccaneer who carried fire and sword to the Spanish Main, and who, as Kingsley says in Westward Ho, was more feared by the Spaniards than was the Devil himself. Apropos to Drake and his good old days, there have recently appeared in the Melbourne Argus some very fipe verses by a writer signing himself ". Oriel." They have such a stirring swing, the swing of Mr Newbolt's " Admirals All," that I make no apology for incorporating them in this week's Echoes. The verses are entitled " A Word from the Waves," and run as follows: " Fire!" and a wreath of snow-whhite smoke, enfolding a spirt of flame, Leaps from a shining cylinder that is trained with a deadly aim ; And just in the golden haze of dawn, as nature awakes and smiles, The voice of the forward turret-gun rings out o'er the startled isles.

The leaves of the palm trees whisper low, and the stems in the cine-brake nod, And the branches creak in the dark, deep groves where the Buccaneers once trod. Ton sunlit waves were their cruisingground, and a shot in war again Must wake strange echoes hereabout on the shores of the Spanish Main.

And far and deep it rings through the sea, till it comes to the waiting ears Of a captain dead who was greater far than the best of the Buccaneers; For neither Morgan, nor Sharp, nor Swan, who fought for adventure's sake, Could singe the beard of the King of Spain like fighting Francis Drake. I

He lies where they lowered him overboard, with all his fighting o'er, A league from the Porto Bello beach, on the oozy ocean-floor. And a shot at a Spanish ship has wakened the grim sea-dog below Who broke the great Armada's might three hundred years ago.

Perchance aroused from- his long, long dreams, tar down 'neath the restless wave, He raises himself on his elbow there, and calls to a comrade brave, As o'er him steams a ship-of-the-line of fifteen thousand tons, "Ho there, John Hawkins! art siill asleep ? Man, can'st thou not hear the guns ?

"They mind me of many a fight I fought. and many a prize I made, And I think of the Nombre de Dios fray, ,„.when I tasted a Spanish blade. Thou know'st how I burned their argosies, from Callao to the Horn, And harried their navy in Cadiz roads and slipped away at morn.

" 'Twas merry enough in the Oolden Hind, that day with our yards aback, When we threw our grappling-hooks aboard of*the Portuguese carrack. I mind how the knaves struck shrewdly, too, till the cutlasses cut them down, When I landed on Porto Bello beach and my boaf s crew burned the town.

"Dost ever think of the game of bowls that we played on Plymouth Hoe, When off the pitch of the Lizard Point already lay the foe ? Then the running fight in the Channel tide, and the fire-ships launched ablaze At the galleons moored in the Calais roads —ah, those were the glorious days.

•'And the Duke Medina was fain to fly, when the morn broke cold and grey; I warrant me now he would rather have been in his orange groves that day Than out near the flats of the Flemish coast, adrift in a rising sea, With us and a gale to windward and the Gravelines shoals a-lee.

"But spite of the lesson our broadsides taught, as they laboured close inshore,

J The Spaniards have gotten another fleet, ! and have ta'en the sea once more, And I wonder whether the captains now, and likewise whether the men, Can fight their ships as they should be fought, and as we fought them then."

Up spake the voice of Hawkins bold from his couch in the ocean bed, Off coast from Porto Rico fair, and these are the words he said: "Now, Francis Drake, be of right good cheer, for the men who to-day fight Spain Are the self-same breed as you and I—so turn to thy rest again."

Brave and daring as was Drake, he failed to capture Havana, which in the 16th and 17th centuries was relatively a much stronger place than it is to-day. John Bull made many an attack on Havana, but it was not till 1760 that the Morro forts were stormed and the city captured and held until the Seven Years war was over. John Bull didn't recognise the value of Cuba in those days, or the British ensign might be waving where now floats the Spanish and where is soon, by all appearances, to proudly wave the Stars and Stripes. I have read a good many descriptions of Havana, but, Sala's, in " Under the Sun," and the short but highly picturesque description given by Froude in his " English in the West Indies," are the best. I have not seen Mr Froude's description quoted in the many articles on Havana which have appeared since the war broke out, and my readers may be glad to have an extract from it. Mr Froude says : The magnitude of Havana, and the fulness of life which was going on there, entirely surprised me. I had thought of Cuba as a decrepit state, bankrupt or finance-exhausted by civil wars, and on the edge of social dissolution, and I found Havana at least a grand imposing city—a city which might compare for beauty with, any in the world. The sanitary condition is as bad as negligence can make it—so bad that a Spanish gentleman told me that

if it were not for the natural purity of the air they would have been all dead like flies long ago. The tideless harbour is foul with the accumulation of three hundred years. The administration is more good-for-nothing than in Spain itself. If, in spite of this, Havana still sits like a queen upon the waters, there are some qualities to be found among her people which belong to the countrymen and subjects of Ferdinand the Catholic. " The coast line from Cape Tubiron has none of the grand aspects of the Antilles or Jamaica. Instead of mountains and forests you see a series of undulating hills, cultivated with tolerable care, and sprinkled with farmhouses. All the more imposing, therefore, from the absence of marked natural forms, are the walls and towers of the great Moro, the fortress which defends the entrr ice of the harbour. Ten miles off it was already a striking object. As we ran nearer it rose above us stern, proud, and defiant, upon a rock right above the water, with highfrowning bastions, the lighthouse at an angle of it, and the Spanish banner floating proudly from a turret which overlooked the whole. The Moro, as a fortification is, I am told, indefensible against modern artillery, presenting too much surface as a target; but it is all the grander to look at. It is a fine specimen of the Vauban period, and is probably equal to any demands which will be made upon it. The harbour is something like Port Royal, a deep lagoon with a narrow entrance and a long natural breakwater between the lagoon and the ocean; but what at Port Eoyal is a sand-spit eight miles long, is at Havana a rocky peninsula on which the city itself is built. The opening from the sea is half a mile wide. On the city side there are low semi-circular batteries' which sweep completely the approaches and the passage itself. The i Moro rises opposite at the extreme point | of the entrance, and next to it, farther j in towards the harbour on the same side, on the crest and slopes of a range of hills, stands the old Moro, the original castle which beat off Drake and Oliver's sea-generals, and which was captured by the English in the last century. The lines were probably weaker then they are at present, and less adequately manned. A monument is erected there to the officers and men who fell in the defence."

" The city[as we steamed by looked singularly beautiful, with its domes and steeples and marble palaces, and glimpses of long boulevards and trees, and handsome mansions and cool arcades. Inside we found ourselves in a basin, perhaps of three miles diameter, full of shipping of all sorts and nationalities. The water, which outside is pure as sapphire, has become filthy with the pollutions of a dozen generations. The tide, which even at the springs has but a rise and fall of a couple of feet, is totally ineffective to clear it, but the Spaniards will not drive their sewage into the ocean. The hot sun rays stream down into the thick black liquid. Horrible smells are let loose from it when it is set in motion by screw or paddle, and ships bring up at

mooring buoys lest their anchors should disturb the compost which lies at the bottom. Yet one forgot the disagreeables in the novelty and striking character of the scene. A hundred boats were plying to and fro among the various vessels, with their white sails and white awnings. Flags of all countries were blowing out at stern or from mast-head; among them, of course, the Stars and Stripes flying jauntily on some splendid schooner which stood there like a cock upon a dunghill that might be his own if he chose to crow for it."

The last sentence in Mr Froude's description has a prophetic air about it:— " The Stars and Stripe floating jauntly on some splendid schooner which stood there like a cock upon a dunghill that might be his own if he chose to crow for it." Well, to-day the cock is crowing for it, or rather, to use a better simile, the eagle has got her talons sharpened and is swooping down upon what bids fair to speedily become her helpless prey.

The Americans have more than one old score to wipe off the slate with Spain over Cuban questions. Do you remember the Virginius affair in 1868 ? In that year the first really serious rebellion against the Spanish authority broke out in the Pearl of the Antilles. The plantexs, who were disgusted with the rapacity of the officials sent out from Spain, went so far as to free their slaves and supply them with arms. The plantations were burnt, the rebels took to the mountains and unfurled the rebel flag with one star, and the struggle went on for eight years, until all the leaders had been captured or or killed, or had escaped to the States. And now as to the story of the Virginius, which is related in Roche's " Story of the Filibusters." The Virginius was an American ship carrying three rebel leaders and arms for the rebels, and was captured by the Spanish man - of - war, Tornado. The Virginius was taken as a prize to Santiago de Cuba, where the rebel leaders were promptly shot. She carried a large number of passengers. Fifty-one of these and the American captain were brutally butchered after an absurd trial, and their bodies given over to the crowd to be torn to pieces. There were still ninety-three people left of those taken with the Virginius, and it was intended they should share the fate of those already slaughtered. Appearing at about this time was the British sloop Niobe, commanded by a young Englishman who had already proved his metal. He brought his vessel to with her guns grinning at the town. Then the young commander went ashore, demanding of the Spaniard, General Burriel, safety for the remainder of the Virginius people. Burriel demurred and argued. The Englishman did not argue. He said: " Stop the mmder, or I blow your town to ruins 1 " Bloodthirsty Burriel saw the point and reprieved the prisoners. Spain was never so bitterly hated by America as at that time, and why the States did not go to war with Spain- at once has never been rightly understood by Americans —or anybody else. Suffice to say American diplomacy bungled the matter horribly, and only one man came out with glory, the young English captain of the Niobe.

One of the principal reasons why the Cubans, as a people, detest and have risen against Spanish rule is that out of a population of about 1,600,000 only some 50,000 possess the suffrage, and these, it is said, are nearly all Spaniards and not of Cuban birth at all. The majority have to submit to crushing taxation inflicted by the minority. The island, relatively small as it is, has a national debt of nearly three hundred million dollars and every Cuban pays about ten dollars a year in interest on the debt alone. Te prove how unevenly the money raised in revenue is distributed, the budget of 1895 showed a revenue of over 26 million dollars. Out of this vast amount less than 100,000 dollars was allotted for public works! The remainder either went to Spain for interest, or charges of one sort or the other, or was distributed amongst the rapacious gang of Spanish office-holders as salaries. These latter are enormous. For instance the Governor General gets 50,000d015, the treasurer 18,500, the archbishop 18,000, naval commander 16,000. The lower officials are paid on a similarly extravagant scale, and all, so I read, enjoy free houses and domestic j services, and revel in " perks " innumer* able. The Colonial Minister who resides at Madrid alone draws 96,000 dollars a year from Cuba. To make matters worse the whole gang cheerfully plunder the exchequer at their own sweet will. No wonder there is discontent, and that the rebels are determined to fight to the bitter end.,

It is somewhat curious that the first foreign-owned steamer captured by the Americans when trying to run blockade, should have been the French steamer Lafayette. For it was Lafayette, the gallant French aristocrat, who went to America to fight for the Yankees against King George. On the score of sentiment alone the Americans have not, I trust, destroyed the offending vessel.

Whilst Spain has lost the Philippines and is evidently sore pressed in the West Indies, she is suffering from internal disorders which, if not speedily checked, may bring down the reigning dynasty. The Spaniard is as poor as Job, but when even the coarse ryebread, which, flavoured with garlic, is the mam sustenance of the working class, goes up in price, he ceases to philosophically smoke his cigarillo and merely murmur against the Government, but rises in revolt. That ambitious rascal Don Carlos and his friends are also unpatriotically seizing the occasion to push the Carlist interest; the anarchists, who have increased in strength of late years to a most alarming extent, are in evil evidence, and what with one thing and another poor Queen Christina must be in a parlous state. It seems hard that after a regency which has lasted some years she should now see before her the prospect of a debacle and exile for herself and the young King Alphonso, for it is notorious that she has made every possible attempt to avoid the war. If the dynasty falls, she and her son will no doubt find a home a home at Vienna, for Maria Christina is a daughter of the late Karl Ferdinand, Archduke of Austria. Which accounts for the Austrian Emperor's donation to the Spanish war fund.

Don Carlos, whose name is now cropping up in the cablegrams, is a cousin of the late King. The Carlist wars will be remembered by many of my readers. At one time a goodly number of adventurous Englishmen and Irishmen fought in what was called the Carlist or Spanish Legion, but the atrocities committed by the Carlist generals disgusted most of the foreigners. As for the present Don Carlos, he has the reputation of being a selfish roue with an infinite capacity of taking care of his own precious skin, while nothing loth to let others risk their lives and spend their money in advancing, his fortunes. The probabilities are that if the present dynasty goes under it will be succeeded by another Republic, strongly tinged with the extreme Socialist and " Red" element.

Turning to our own land I am glad to chronicle the end of the Native trouble up north. Everyone, of whatever " colour," will agree that the Government have behaved with great promptitude and decision. Had not the bull been taken by the horns it is highly probable that bloodshed would have ensued and that the effect of this upon the London money market would infallibly have meant a drop in the value of our securities and in serious hurt being done to our good name as a law-ahiding, peaceful community. The punishment of the ring-leaders will not, I trust, be diminished in necessary severity by any mawkish sentiment. Toia and his men knew the law and chose to defy it. They took up arms, they threatened the settlers, they defied the authority of the Government. Let us have no mealy mouthed cant about the " poor uneducated, ignorant natives," let them have a fair trial and a just sentence if they are proved guilty, and taken almost red-handed as they were, it is difficult to see through what legal loophole they can escape. Colonel Newall and his officers deserve every credit for the tact and determination they have shown, and those who talk a lot of humbug about the alleged folly of maintaining a permanent military force ought now, I should say, to admit their error. "Without the Permanent Artillery men, the Maxim and N orden ■ feldt, New Zealand might only tooT probably have been horrified by the news of scenes of bloodshed which would have inflicted irreparable damage to our credit.

All's well that ends well, but apart from the punishment which I hope will be drastic of Toia and his co-leaders, there is another matter to which it is to be hoped the Government are now giving their earnest attention. Every possible means should be employed, no stone should be left unturned, to find out who and what are the men who' supplied the natives who supplied the natives with arms and ammunition. In the old days of the Maori war it is notorious that certain Auckland merchants were unpatriotic and scampish enough to

sell arms and ammunition which they well knew would be used against men of their own race. In this particular case what the Colony will want to know is the names of those, whoever and however highly placed they may be, who have sold guns and cartridges to Toia and his followers.