Yet in these very circumstances which we have recounted, and which upon the face of them appeared to be and indeed were for the time so unfavorable, there were developed the influences which unerringly led to the subsequent greatness of the island. The earliest settlers were not only of Spanish origin but also of Spanish sympathies. They could not be expected to have any affection for or any pride in the land to which they had come as to a mere "Tom Tiddler's ground," on which to pick up silver and gold. They valued Cuba for only what they could get out of her; many of them glad, after thus gaining wealth, to return to Spain, or to go to Mexico, Venezuela or Peru, there the better to enjoy it and to mingle in social pleasures which the primitive life of Cuba did not yet afford.
There were, however, some even in the first generation who were exceptions to this rule, who loved Cuba for her own sake, who wished to identify themselves permanently with her, and who wished to see her developed to the greatness and the splendor for which her natural endowments seemed to them to have designed her. In the second generation the number of such was of course greatly multiplied, and in succeeding generations their increase proceeded at a constantly increasing ratio. Thus by the end of the first century of Cuban history the great majority of residents of the island regarded themselves as Cubans rather than as Spaniards. They were Spaniards in race and tongue, and they were ready to stand with the peninsular kingdom and the rest of its world-circling empire against any of other tongues and races. But while thus to the outside world they were Spaniards, to Spain itself and to the people of the peninsula they were Cubans; differentiated from Spain much more than the Catalonian was from the Castilian, or the Andalusian from the Navarrais.
This sentiment of differentiation, and of insular individuality, was naturally strengthened by the treatment which the peninsular government accorded to the island. The Cubans were made to feel that Spain regarded them as apart from her, just as much as they themselves so regarded her. They felt, too, that she was treating them with injustice and with neglect; that instead of nourishing her young plantation and giving it the support of her wealth and strength she was drawing upon it for her own nourishment and support. They would have been either far more or far less than human if they had not thus been incited to a certain degree of resentment and to an assertion of independence.
In brief, it was with the Cubans even at that early day as it was with the British colonists in North America a century and a half later; though indeed the Cubans determined upon separation from the mother country at a comparatively earlier date than the people of the Thirteen Colonies, or certainly much longer before their achievement of that independence. We know that the British colonists were dissatisfied and protesting for nearly a score of years before their Declaration of Independence, but that down to within a few months of the latter transcendent event scarcely any of them thought of separation from England. Lexington and Concord, and even Bunker Hill, were fought not for independence but for the securing of the same rights for the colonists that their fellow subjects in the British Isles enjoyed. But the Cubans resolved upon separation from Spain not only years but at least two full generations before they were able to achieve it.
This spirit belongs to a much later date in Cuban history than that of which we are now writing, and to refer to it here is an act of anticipation. But it is desirable to some extent to scan the end from the beginning; to see from the outset to what end we shall come as well as to see at the end from what beginning we have come. Moreover, it cannot be too well remembered that even as soon as the latter part of the sixteenth century the people of Cuba regarded themselves as Cubans, and so called themselves, and had begun the cultivation of a social order and a sentiment of patriotism quite distinct from though not yet necessarily antagonistic to that of Spain.
The transition from the sixteenth to the seventeenth century was marked, then, with a significant change in the temper and character of Cuba, especially by a great accession of the spirit of insular integrity and independence. While Spain was great and apparently growing greater, there was a gratifying pride in identification with her. But when her decline began, and showed signs of being as rapid as her rise had been, that pride waned, and there began to arise in its place a pride in Cuba, or perhaps we might say at that early date a determination to develop in Cuba cause for pride. From that time forward Cuba was destined to be more American than European; and though for nearly three centuries she might continue to be a European possession, yet her lot was decided. Unconsciously, perhaps, but not the less surely she was drawn into the irresistible current which was drawing all the American settlements away from the European planters of them. It was one of the interesting eccentricities of history that the first important land acquired by Spain in the western hemisphere should be the last to leave her sway; and that the first European colonists in America to have cause for complaint against their overlords should be the longest to suffer and the last to secure abatement of their wrongs. Such is the reflection caused by consideration of this first era in the history of the Queen of the Antilles.
THE END OF VOLUME ONE
VOLUME 2
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