The Saint Paul globe., July 03, 1898, Page 14, Image 14

About The Saint Paul globe. (St. Paul, Minn.) 1896-1905

Image provided by: Minnesota Historical Society; Saint Paul, MN

                
14
WONDERFUL CITY OF LA PAZ
LA PAZ AND ITS WALLS
1,000 FEET HIGH
O«l«l Onstoius nn<l Costumes— Where
Mules mid Donkeys* Act as Deer
WnK'onN, I'rc-.iii ( iii-it. mill HearseH
A Vlt>lt to the Market!! The
liKlinn Women and Their Boliv
ian RnbleH The Cholltoa and
Their CarloiiH Dre^seH — The
Queer VcK'etnhleH nnd I'ruitn
Whleh Are Found In Interior
Soulli Aitierlen.
Copyright, 1838, by Frank O. Carpenter.
LA PAZ.. Bolivia, Jun* 19.— There is
r." city in !h,' wmii] like- La Paz. Away
Lack from the Pacific ocean, across th.»
hfebesl range of mountains on our
hemisphere, in the leftst-kiiown coun
try < f Soinh America, it lies In a litt'e
basin on one of the highest plateaus of
tin- ca:':h. I have seen the walls of Pek
in, of Jerusalem and of Seoul, the
capital >f Corea. None of them Is over
fifty feet high. La Paz has walls a
thousand feet high, and upon one side
1 — — '
— )
LA PAZ, WITH IILIMANI IN THE DIS TANCE.
cf It towers the famed snow-capped
peak of Iliimani, one of the thr»e high
est of tfce Andes, which kisses the
morning and evening sure at an alti
tude cf more than four' miles above the
eea. Man made the walls of o.h. r
cities. God mr.de the wails of L a Paz.
The great Bolivian plateau, which
Stretches away to the north and south
almost as lev i as the waters of Lake I
Tittcaca, abruptly drops at La Paz so
es to form here a basin whidh by ac
tual measurt ■■merits is about 1.000 feet |
deep. In this basin the city is built and !
the green precipitous slopes form Us ■
walls, except on one side, where the !
Aides, ragged and torn, rise in ragged \
grandeur in all the colors of th? Colors.- i
do canyon.
Coming to La Paz on the stage '.
from Lake Titicaca you ride for forty- !
five miles across a plain, b» villages ;
of mud huts, through 111 lie farms of j
barley, quinoa and potatoes. On one '
Bide of you is the mountain wall of the
great Sorati range, the highest of the
Ande.s, and you gall-op on and on over
a seemingly endless plain. The team ;
Is one of the eight mules, changed every I
thiee hours. If you sit with the drlv- i
er, as I did, you grow tired at last and j
look in vain through the clear air for
the city. It is nowhere in sight. At j
last on the brink of a precipice the i
mules are pulled back on their !
haunches, the stage stops, and there j
below lies La Pass. It is so far down
that you can make out only the out- !
lir.es. You see a plain covered with '
terra cotta-roofed nouses, jumbled to
gether along narrow streets. Here
and there is a church, at one end is
the bi<r white building which forms the
penitentiary, and just under you the
walled inclosure made of white pigeon
holes in which the dead La Pazites i
are stowed away at so much rent per
year until their descendants forget to
] ay and the holes are wanted for the
generations to come. The stage winds i
about over a road that curves in and I
out in loops and figure eights in get
ting down to the city. You see par
allel roads far below you, and at last,
having left the heights, gallop over the
the cobble-stone pavements of La Paz.
The town you now find to be one of
hills and valleys. Its streets go up
and down, and the altitude is such
that you can walk but a very few
steps without stopping to breathe.
A PERPETUAL MASQUERADE.
The sights of La Paz form a per
petual masquerade of bright colors and
curious scenes. The very houses look
as though they were intended for the
stage rather than real life. The roofs
of terra cotta tiles look so clean in the
clear air that you can count every piece
of which they are made. The walls
of the houses are painted In the most
delicate tints of pink, sky blue, laven
der, yellow, cream and green. They
rtre of one and two stories, so open
to the street that you can see much
that goes on within. The colors on the
Btreets are even brighter than those
of the houses. There are in the city at
least five Indians to every white, and
these dress in the brightest reds, yel
lows, blues and greens that aniline
dyes combined with the Indian taste
for the gaudy can make. The es
pecially bright garment Is the poncho
or blanket, with a hole In the center
for the neck, which every Indian man
and boy wears.
These are usually colored in stripes
and are worn almost constantly day
and night. Every Indian has also a
bright-colored knit cap with knit ear
flaps hanging down pn each side of
his face, and he sometimes has in ad
dition a black felt hat. He wears pan
taloons which make one think of the
days when our girls padded their hips
and panniers were in vogue. His pan
taloons are cut full at the hips and the
tops of the pockets stick wide out at
each side. The legs of the trousers
are full and from the knee down at
the back they are slit wide apart
showing what at first seem to be wide
drawers, which flop about the ankles
liivestigate them, however, and you
flr.d they are drawers made on the
dickey ehirt order, or merely a half leg
of white cotton sewed fast "to the in
side of the legs of the trousers, in or
dei that he may the easier roll up the
latter when in the wet grass or cross
ing a stream. The Indian women wear
hats, and their dresses are as gaudy
as the blankets of the men, and every
where there are other queer costumes,
as we shall see In the markets further
on.
La Paz has about 50,000 people. It
Is the chief commercial city of Bolivia,
but it has not a street oar, a cab nor
a dray. I doubt if it has a dozen pri
vate carriages, and as for one and two
horse wagons 'these are unknown. In
going; about town every one walks, and
all of tine heavy trafllc is carried on by
mules, donkeys, llamas or Indians. My
trunks are carried from one place lo
another on the Jpacks of Indians and I
pay each man about 8 cents a
trunk. The bread carrier of La Paz is
a donkey with ekln boxes, in which the
bread ip kepE, swung aoross his back.
The beer wagon is a mule who has a
larg-e case of bottles. up;n each of its
sides, and the furniture movers,
whether the thing moved be a table or
a piano, are Indians, Who carry the
articles UDon their backs, heads or
shoulders, from one house to the other.
Freight is brought into the city on
mules, llamas, donkeys and Indians.
The fuel of the city is, as I have" said,
llama manure. This all comes in on
the backs of llamas In bags. Coco is
brought chiefly on donkeys and Peru
vian bark and rubber from the hotter
lends lower down coane t<he same way.
I saw an odd load on a mule yesterday.
It was a limp bundle about five and a
half feet long and perhaps eighteen
inches in diameter thrown over the
mu!e, so that the ends hung down at
the same distance from the ground on
each side. Beside it on another mule
rode a policemen and a crowd of In
dian women came wailing behind. It
was ithe dead body of a woman rolled
up In a blanket. She had been mur
dered a. few days before for about $50
which she was known to have saved,
and the pnlicornan was bringing the
corpse and the criminals to La Paz.
THE STORES OF LA PAZ.
The stores of La Paz are many and
some carry large stocks of goods.
These are, however, chiefly in the
hands of the Germans.who, here, as
elsewhere, seem to have monopolized
the trade in all foreign goods. The
most of the smaller stores are in the
hands of the Cholos, or half-breeds
the offsprings of the Indians and the
whites. These people do the real busi
ness of the city. Most of their estab
lishments are little more than boxes
or holes in the walls. In a space from
six to ten feet square a tailoring, a !
dressmaking, or a saddlery store will I
be carried on. There are no windows
to these stores. The light comes in
through the door, and you can look
ir. and see the employer and his hands
at their work. Nearly every merchant
is a manufacturer as well. Many of
the establishments are managed by
women. All of the fruit of the city is
sold by them, and I doubt if there is a
chicha beer saloon in La Paz which
has not its Cholo woman as proipcie
tor. Chica is, you know, the beer of
the Bolivians.
IN THE MARKETS OP LA PAZ.
A vart deal cf the business of La Paz
is done in the markets. There Is one
square in the center o.f the city which
is filled wii'Jh stalls and In which all
week long tne buying and selling goes
cm. On Sundays the streets outside of
this for many blocks are taken up with
market women and everything under
the Bolivian sun Is bought and sold.
It is Sunday that is 'the chief market
day of La Paz. Upon that day the In
dians come from miles around. They
buy little outside of that which they
purchase in the markets, and here we
shnll see all the characters of La Paz,
and its life, better tham anywhere else.
We leave our hotel on the Pia-za in the
center of the city and walk past the
police station, down the hill to the point
where Market street crosses our way at
right angles. The streets are filled with
buyers and sellers, and we pick our way
in and out of three blocks of Bolivian
humanity before we take our stand in
the oant-er of a living cross of all the
hues of the rainbow made by the
market people ajid their customers. In
front and behind us, on our right and
on our left, the streets are filled with
these curious people moving to and fro
in waving lines of kaleidoscopic colors
such as you will see nowhere else In the
world.
We talk of the Oriental hues of
Cairo and Calcutta. La Paz has a
dozen different colors to Cairo's one,
and the costumes of Calcutta would
seem tame if mixed with these about
us. Reds, yellows, blues and greens
are ever mixing one with the other,
making new combinations every sec
ond. The most delicate tints of the
Andean sunsets eeem to have been
robbed to furnish the dresses for the
Cholito girls. There are hundreds of
them clad in shawls of rose red and
skirts of sky blue. There are hun
dreds who wear skirts of sea green
and not a few with skirts as red as
the sun at its setting. Their skirts
are propped out with hoops, and they
reach only to the full curve of the
calf. Some of the Cholitos wear sho -s
of bright yellow kid, with Parisian
heels under the Insteps, and with high
tops which end, In some cases, in
rose-colored stockings, but more often
the bare skin of a rose-colored leg.
There are scores of Indian women In
still brighter dresses carrying bundles
on their backs In striped blanket of
red, blue, yellow and green, and there
are Indian men and boys wearing
ponchos of the same gorgeous hues
There are ladies In black, with crep°
shawls wound tightly about their olive
skinned faces, with fur prayer mats
and prayer books In their hands.
They have stopped at the markets
on their way home from church, and
some are accompanied by the men of
their families dressed In high black
hats, black clothes and black gloves.
How quiet it is! There is the bum of
conversation, the chatter of gossip,
and now and then the jangle of bar
gaining; but the crowd moves in and
out without friction, and though there
are thousands about you hear scarcely
a fo.otfall.ij laTake a look downward.
Most of theTTteet about you are bare,
and a large number of the Indians
wear leather sandals, which make
hardly a sound as their owners pass
over the streets.
THE BOLIVIAN BABY.
What a lot of babies there are all
about us. We have to pick our way
THlf ST. FAUI, GLOBE —SUNDAY —-JTTCiTIi.XBQB.
about carefully to keep from treading
upon them. Some lie on the cold streets
and paw at the cobbles or play with
the merchandise their mothers are
selling. Some are too young to crawl,
and they are tied up In shawls on the
backs" of their mothers, who go on
with their business with apparent
disregard of the precious freight on
their backs. There is one now peeping
ou t Qt tfctt red Blja*l below Uj ns
face is as brown as a berry and its
little black eyes blink at us from under
its, yellow knit cap, the ear-laps of
which stand out like horns on each
side of its face. There is another baby
a few months older being dandied on
the streets by its Indian father, and
on the other side of the street we see
two little tota who are taking their
meals at thier mother's bare breast*.
Most of the babies we see are laugh
in.g, one or two are crying. Some are
quite pretty, some are homely, and
nearly all are dirty and lousy. There
is one whose head is now undergoing
a search at the hands of its mother,
who first cracks and then eats the
product of her chase as she catches
them. This, business is, however, not
confined to the heads of babies. It is
common to both the Indians and the
lower-class ChcHos, and men, women
and children unite in the hunt, and the
feast, the rule being that the hunter
is entitled to all the game that he
catches, no matter upon whose hairy
game preserves he is pursuing the
chase. In this connection I might re
late my adventures aa I carried my
poor Spanish with me from store to
store in La Paz in search of a fine
comb, but the subject is too recent
and painful, and I desist.
QUEER THINGS SOLD.
L§t us stop for a moment and make
notes upon some of the queer things
sold all about us. The goods ara spread
upon blankets or they lie flat on the
cobble stone street. The vegetables and
grains are divided up into piles. There
are neither weights or measures, and
alnue; all things are sold by the eye.
You pay sd much a pile. Tha piles are
exceedingly small, and things are
t-o light in. smali quantities. M'arki'cins
is dene here from day to day. I doubt
if there is a cellar in La Paz, and th?
average cooking stove would hardly be
big enough for a doll's play house in
America. Think of carrying homt a.
half-dozen potatoes from market. This
is the size of many of the potato piles
offered for sale here. And such pota
toes! Here is a brown-faced Indian girl
who is selling some at our feet. I ven
ture you never paw suef.i little potato-s
before. They are r.ot bieger than mar
bles, and she offers us eight for 5 cents.
Whait queer violet color, some are as
pink as the toe-s of that baby who is
playing among them, and some are as
black as the feet of the Indian girl who
hr.s them for sale. Potatoes do not
grow large at the altilude of La Paz,
and. though there are also large ones
in the markets, these come from the
warmer lands lower down.
FROZEN POTATOES.
But the most curious of all the po
tatoes sold In La Paz are those known
as chuno (choon-yo). These are sold
in large quantities, and you may see
piles of them at every step as you so
throug-h the market. There is a wom
an who has a large stock spread out
upon a blanket before her. The pota
toes are as white as bleached bones.
They are almost as hard, and when
you break them apart you find them
almost as tough. They are ordinary
potatoes frozen ar.d dried, after which
process, it is said, that they can be
kept for a year without spoiling. The
method of preparation is to soak them
in water and allow them to freeze
night after night until they become
soft. Then the skins are rubbed oft"
by treading upon them with the bare
feet, and the potatoes are thorough'y
dried in the open air. After drying
they are as white as snow and as hard
as stones. Such potatoes form one of
the chief foods of the Bolivians. They
are a staple article among the Indians
of the Andean highlands.
They have to be soaked for three
or four days before they can be eaten^
and are often served in the form of a
stew. I have tasted them several
times. All the life of the potato seems
to me to have been taken out of them,
and I find them Insipid and by no
means appetizing. Perhaps I might
be able to eat them if I did not so fre
quently see the dirty bare feet of the
Indians with which they are sauced.
In addition to the above potatoes Bo
livia has a number of varieties which
which we do not have. It has bitter
potatoes of a dirty yellow color, which
will grow cm the highest plateau. It
has tubers which look like potatoes
but which have an acid taste and
must be exposed to the s-un before
cooking, and others which taste some
what like turnips.
INDIAN CORN OF BOLIVIA.
I am much Interested also in the In
dian corn which I find here. There
are many species of maize here which
we never see In North America. Bo
livia has varieties of corn, the grains
of which are twice as large as those
of the largest species of corn grown
by our farmers. Some kinds are of a
bright yellow color, every grain being
as big as my thumb nail. This
corn, when I bit Into it, crumbled up
almost like flour, an<J I can see that it
can with a slight bruising be turned
into meal. Another variety Is white
and a third Is of a mulberry color, be
ing called "maize morado." it also
has a very floury kernel, and I am
told that It Is used In making and col
oring liquors. The most of these va
rieties of corn are grown in the Yun
gas country, to the east and far lower
down than La Paz. The corn there
grows from ten to twelve feet In
height.
It seems to me the varieties might
grow well In the United States, and
I have forwarded samples to our sec
retary of agriculture, with a view of
testing th« matter.
—Frank Q. CarpenUr.
HAMILTON FISH'S GRANDSON
THE YOTJNQ BUN WHO FELL
, AT ]|A |*UISINA
Dlatlnffulahed Ancestry of a Soldier
Boy Who Wore Only the Inal K nia
of a Sergeant-— Falls In the War
Which Fluuhea the Work Hi*
Grandfather May Be Said to Hare
Begun.
■ , ,
It Is an interesting historical coin
cidence that the first volunteer soldier
of the United States army of invasion
to fall on the soli of Cuba,, in the oause
of the freedom of her people, bore the
honored name of Hamilton Pish. This
coincidence becomes the more striking
when it is known that this young man
was the grand-son of the statesman
bearing that name whose high-minded
Americanism, clear sense of duty and
diplomatic skill, operating and prevail
ing in the cabinet of President Grant
Just a quarter of a century ago, had
the effect of averting a war with
Spain, which, had it then been under
taken, would doubtless have resulted
prematurely in the independence of
Cuba, at that time, instead of under
more thoroughly appreciated condi
tions, twenty- five yeans later.
Except for the ancestral name which
this young trooper bo-re to so honorable
a death, and the fact of the existence
OT the relationship above noted, his fall !
in battle with the Spaniards would be ;
no more notable than that of any one ,
of his comrades who met a similar fate.
He was a young man, of excellent
training and superior education, who, i
following the inclinations of a brave i
spirit, had already experienced many !
of the vicissitudes of a life unchained !
to any particular vocation or locality. !
His tendency was in the direction of ,
harmless adventure; and It was, no '
doubt, due to the pursuit of this free i
line of life that he found himi?eif, at i
last, in the ranks of Roosevelt's rough I
riders. He was possessed of a soldierly
physique and hira conduct proved him
to be a man of splendid courage. But
the same was true of many, or all, of
those who bit the dust by his side. He
must have measured, In advance of his
enlistment, the nature of the perils he
was likely to encounter in the particu
lar service of his country in which he
embarked. He was merely a non-comm
issioned officer and a citizen soldier
of the republic, counting only as a
single individual in the vast democracy
of humanity. Aside. from his name and
family associations there wais nothing
to distinguish him^from his compan
ions who marched, with him to their
death in the ambuscade at La Quisnra.
He leaves behind him a saddened
household and a large circle of sor
rowing friends;, bu^ so, doubtless, did
many, or all, of those who perished In
their own blood, tha.t day in the Cuban
jungles. He died the heroic death of a
brave soldier, with his face to the foe.
The humblest man in the ranks did
equally as mucih, and the most skiliful
leader of the highest grade In the en
tire army could do no more.
Yet, notwithstanding this natural
and, seemingly, cold process of evening
up and leveling out the claims to in
dividual merit, of those who died to
gether on that occasion, and the equal
ization of their posthumous honors,
something like distinction insists, after
all, upon strangely attaching itself to
the ease of young Mr. Pish. If we take
one view of it, and bluntly state it. a
primary distinction, and a highly cred
itable ojie exists .for him*. -in the fact
that with the strongest political and
highest quality of family influence at.
his command, which. if y exerted, would
doubtless have, for him a pres
idential commission appointing-, him" to
an ornamental .grade in the service, he
manfully entered the ranks and brave
ly fronted the enemy and fell in the
very van of the conflict.
But the more pronounced element of
distinction Which seems to call for
recognition is mystical rather than
real — indeed, it seems ailmost to par
take of the supernatural. Por under
its influence one cannot fail to asso
ciate the destinies of Cuba with those
of the United States, with which they
have been more or less closely inter
linked throughout almost half a | cen
tury of time. The New York 7" T "ies
very appropriately alludes to thii -:on
dition when it says "There is a stern
and sad consistency in the fate that
doomed young Fish to fall in the war
which finishes the work his grandfa
| tber may be said to have begun." It
| is here that this mystical relationship
so strongly reveals itself. To Hamil
ton Fish, secretary of state in the
cabinet of President Grant, more than
to any other man, living or dead, Spain
was indebted, though reluctantly on
his part, for the prolongation of her
tyrannical and barbarous domination
over Cuba during the twenty-five years
between 1873 and 1898; and his own
blood, drawn from the heart and ar
teries of his : grandson, representing
that same army of the United States,
whose egerness, a quarter of a cen
tury ago, his power had been so act
ive in restraining,, was the first to
sprinkle the soil of the beautiful Queen
of the Antilles in its new baptism of
liberty. Mr. Pish hs,d been instru
mental in the preservation of peace,
though he longed . for the independ
ence of Cuba., Thus the blood of the
representative of one generation puls
ing for and triumphant at last in the
attainment of ' peace, at a time when
there existed strong provocation to
conflict, comes to be shed, twenty-five
years later, in vicarious martyrdom,
by a scion of the third generation
bearing of right the very name of him
whose grace and skill, and high sense
of honor and justice, alone had insured
the withholding of the merited decree
and execution of righteous judgment
against Spain at a time when the en
tire world would have fervently echoed
and re-echoed with an almost unani
mous amen.
The first administration of President
Grant, beginning March 4, 1869, was
early calif d upon to consider the then
existing relations between Spain and
her Cuban colony. The insurrection,
which began In September. 1868, was
already fully dfveloord; and strong In
fluences were exerted upon the new
administration to secure recognition of
Clea Clyffe, the Horn* at former teereUrj «C BteU. tk* Hob. Hamilton Fisb.
beligerency by the United States. Mr
Fish, however, while sympathizing with"
the Cubans in their struggle, was coni
elstently opposed to according tha
rights which such action would ensure,
because he did not want to become in
volved Jn a dispute with Spain. The
good office** of the United, ftta^es were
tendered, however, with the object of
securing the consent of Spain to the
Independence of Cuba, whereby further
bloodshed might be avoided; but Spain
persistently and stubbornly declined
the offer. Meanwhlle'certain claims for
indemnity were presented by citizens of
the United States against Spain. The
sympathy of our people was naturally
and Btrongly with Cuba. Filibustering
movements were constant, and upon
Mr. Fish devolved the delicate task of
preserving our national neutrality.
In 1869 or 1870, two American citizens
named Spearman and Wyeth, became
Involuntarily Identified with a revolu
tionary expedition, to Cuba and were
murdered. The merchant steamer
Lloyd Aspljiwall, plying between New
York and Havana, was seized by the
Spanish authorities. Other arbitrary
proceedings occurred, and on June 0,
1870, there were thirteen American
citizens whoso property was embargo
ed, fifteen undergoing imprisonment,
and fifteen who had been arrested by
Spanish authorities in Cuba, held as
prisoners thtre because no opportunity
was afforded them for trial. Mr. Fish,
after great delay, succeeded, through
Gen. Sickles, United States minister at
Madrid, in securing the release of these
j-f-rsons, and nothing further of impor
tance occurred until November, 1873,
v/hen the steamer Vlrginius, flying the
American flag, was captured by the
Ppanish cruiser, Tornado, off the
southern coast of Cuba, and found to
be loaded with arms and stores for the
insurgents, forwarded by the junta at
New York. She was taken into port
md her captain, together with many
of her passengers and some of her
crew, were publicly shot by the Spanish
military authorities.
Immediately following the receipt of
these tidings Mr. Fish telegraphed
Nov. 14, 1873, to minister Sickles in
these words: "Unless abundant repa
ration shall have been vountarily ten
deed, you will demand the restitution
of the Virginius and the release and
delivery to the United States of the
persons captured on her, who have not ,
CHURCH OP ST. PHILIP IN THE HIGHLANDS.
already been massacreed, and that the
flag of the United States be saluted in
the port of Santiago, and the signal
punishment of Use officials who were
concerned In the capture of the vessel
and execution of the passengers and
crew. In case of refusal of satisfac
tory restitution within twelve days
from this date, you will at the expi
ration of that time close your legation,
and will, together with your secretary,
leave Madrid, bringing with you the
archives of the legation."
This communication was regarded
by the entire country as equivalent to
a declaration of war, and there was the
heartiest support accorded to the ad
ministration in the stern attitude it
had assumed in connection with the
outrage. Unfortunately, however, in
vestigation into all the circumstances
resulted in proving that the Virginius
had no right to carry the flag of the
Unitfd States in view of the service in
which it was engaged. Subsequent ne
gotiations were conducted between Mr.
Fish and Admiral Polo at Washington,
and a protocol was drawn up for the
carrying out of an agreement to the
effect tjhat the survivors of the Vir
ginius should be returned to the Unit
ed States authorities at once, but the
salute of the flag should be dispensed
with for the reason above stated. But
Admiral Polo expressed to Mr. Fish
a disclaimer of any intent to treat with
indignity the flag, and Mr. Fish, in
turn, agreed to proceed against the
owners of the vessel for redress. This
terminated the episode which, during
its pendency, was the most exciting in
cident following the close of the Civil
war. In some quarters Mr. Fish was
bitterly criticised; but as the circum
stances came to be known it was gen
erally conceded that he had acted with
wise conservatism and impartial jus
ticp, and that, by his prudence he
had averted a war with Spain; and for
such a war the country was then even
less prepared than, as it has been dem
onstrated, it was in April last when the
present conflict was opened.
This episode, rowever, bad the effect
of developing- two forceful elements
bearing upon the relations of tills
country to Spain. In the first instance,
it was made patent that the sympathies
of the United States were most heart
ily with Cuba in her struggle for free
dom, and furthermore, that the ad
ministration of President Grant, while
not favoring the recognition, by this
country of belligerency, was in favor
of the independence of Cuba. But Mr.
Pish was a peace-loving man, and
President Grant wais indisposed to war.
The debt incurred by the government
far the suppression of the rebellion was
already mountain high; furthermore,
the Southern elemen.t of the oountry,
still snmrtlng from the Injustice of the
reconstruction period, was subject to
mlarked dlotruist by the people of the
North. President Grant, too, had pass
ed through an unpleasant experience
In connection with the proposal oomlng
to this jroverrrmenfc for the annexation
of the West Indian Island of San Do
mingo. Gen. Grant was strongly In
favoT of the plan; i>t had been almost
unanimously approved by the votes of
the people of San I>omiin«o themselves,
but It hed encountered in the senate
that same spirit of opposition - to
colonial expansion which exists today;
and not even the great influence of
Gen. Grant himself could overpower
that opposition so ably led by Charles
Sumner, whom the president, In his
vexation, permitted to be deposed from
the position of chairman of the com
mittee of foreign relations in the sen
ate.
With the lapse of time the feeling
settled^ down over the country that
while an unpardonable outrage had
been committed by Spain upon the
United States, through I'the murder of
our citizens and the insult to our flag,
the ground upon which we based our
action for reprisal was noit tenable;
and history has doubtless accorded to
President Grant and Mr. Pish the same
recognition of honorable, patriotic en
deaivor, self-poise and moderation, un
der circumstances of unusual Irrita
tion, as was accorded to Mr. Lincoln
and Mr. Seward in the adjustment of
the Trent affair with Great Britain in
18fi2.
In December, 1873, the Hon. Caleb
Cushing succeeded Gen. Sickles as
minister to Spain. The appointment
created some surprise as well as an
tagonism, inasmuch as Mr. Clashing 1 ,
although In the earlier years of his
manhood a Whig, had entered the
Democratic party at the time of the
defection of John Tyler, and had af
filiated heartily with that organiza
tion down to 1861, he having been, the
previous year, president of the Demo
cratic national convention at Charles
ten, S. C, from which he seceded a
few weeks later, to become president
of the convention which met in Balti
more and nominated John C. Breek
enrldge for the presidency of tlhe Unit
ed States. Mr, Cuening, however,
! proved to be an earnest supporter of
i the Union cause. In 1872 he was ap
| pointed one of the government counsel
j at the Geneva conference, which ad
| justed the difference between this
I country and Great Britain growing
out of the so-called Alabama claims.
It was made clear to the senate, in
confirming Mr. Gushing for Spanish
minister, that President Grant had
I made this selection to the end that the
' administration and the country might
| secure the benefit of Mr. Cushing's
j superb ability in smoothing out the
irritation existing between Spain and
the United States. There are also ex
cellent reasons for believing 1 that ne
was commissioned to quietly urge
upon the Spanish government the de
sirability of granting, through some
■ process or other, independence to
Cuba. The freedom of that island was
a consummation wished by Mr. Fish,
as well as by President Grant. In
February, 1874. following the assump
tion by Mr. Cufihing of his new diplo
matic duties, Mr. Fish wrote to him
as follows: "The state of Cuba is the
one great cause of perpetual solicitude
in the foreign relations of the United
States. The president cannot but re
gard independence, and emancipation,
of course, as the only certain, and even
necessary, solution of the question of
Cuba. It requires to be borne in mind
that in so far as we may contribute to
the solution of this question, this gov
ernment is not actuated by any sel
fish or Interested motive. The presi
dent does not meditate or desrire the
annexation of Cuba to the United
States, but its elevation Into an inde
pendent republic of freedmen in har
mony with ourselves and with other
republics of America."
Neither Mr. Fish nor President Grant
lived to sef their hopos in regard to
the freedom of Cuba realized. But Mr.
Fish, in hid treatment of the question
at that ttnift. laid down certain lines
, and applied certain principles of law
which havo proved the basis for the
present sublime movement by the Unit
ed States to secure to the people of
Cuba those blessings of liberty, which
we ourselves enjoy. It is fitting, there
fore, that the blood of Hamilton Fish,
seeping from the wounds of the grand
son bearing his name, should be ming
led with the soil of that hitherto unfor
tunate land, in the early dawn of that
day when her people shall awake. to a
tardy realization of the fulfilment of
their long cherlshtd hopes.
Secretary Fish was in every line of
life throughout his entire career, a
thoroughly Christian American gentle
man. He was born in 180S and was th?
son of Col. Nicholas Fish, who gained
distinction in the War of the Revolu
tion. He graduated from Columbia
college, practiced the profession of law
and served bis country, meanwhile, in
ceveral minor capacities. He was gov
error of New York and United States
senator from that state. He was pos-
Bes-'sed through inheritance of a liberal
fortune, and he. was particularly favor
ed through his marriage with Miss
Julia Kean, who was a great-grand
r.iece of Gov. Livingston, a.nd grand
daughter of John Kean, member from
South Carolina, of the First congress.
In 1861 Mr. Fish purchased a tract of
land, of approximately 500 acres, lo
cated on the east shore of the Hudson
river, directly opposite the West Point
Military academy, on the left. This
was part or' what was formerly know a
as th<? Artier, estate. Much of the
land consists of timber, and the estate
la known as Glen Clyffe. The house
is located In a clearing, about a mil"
and a half from the eastern edge of
the Hudson, from which the asc.nt is
steep and rugged, and is reached by
following the famous Beverly road.
From a dock near the lower end of
this road, and at the intersection of a
creek running through the Fish estate
to the Hudson riveiß< s ß'em§s'lct Arnold
effected his t-scape juat after his be
trayal of his country at West Point.
From the fiont porch of Glen Clyfffl
the heights cf West Point are visible.
It was there that President Grant was
rrc-pared for the leadership of great
armies in the cause of liberty, and it
was to Gten Clyffe, direotry opposite,
that Hamilton Pish retired, after his
long service in the cabinet of President
Grant, shaping the peaceful policy of
his illustrious co-adjutor, and at the
same time, silently, and it may be said
almost providentially shaping that
other policy which should secure a
ciuarter of a century iater, the free
dom of the Spanish colony at our doors
Mr. Fl»h died at Glen Clyffe Sept
7, 1893, in the eighty-fifth year of hl»
age. The day of his burial was clear
and beautiful. Large numbers of peo
ple were attracted to the funeral at
the little chuTch of St. Phlllp-in-ttw-
Htghlands, about a mile from Mr
Fish's residence. The ceremonies at
the house were simple and participated
in by the members of the family and
Closest friends only. Bishop Henry C
Potter, of New York, officiated, assist
ed by the Rev. Dr. Morgan Dix, of
TrinHty church, New York city and
the Rev. I>r. Walter Thompson, of St.
•Philip s. Several delegations of different
social and commercial bodies, to which
Mt. Fish belonged, attended the funer
al. The scene upon the arrival of the
body at the grave was one of unusual
beauty and lmpressiveness. The church
building snugly located in among the
highlands, is of antique appearance.
The burying ground (surrounds the
structure and contains many ancient
tomb-stones. Great original forest
trees, spared from destruction in th*
process of clearing the ground, spread
their branches and their shade over
the graves. The stillness of early
autumn prevailed and the odors of the
woodlands were in the air. As the
procession moved slowly through the
churchyard the only sounds that reach
ed the ears were, the songs of birds
and the murmuring of the clergy ar
rayed In their vestments, walking in
advance of the corpse. The body was
placed In the ground by the side of
that of Mrs. Fish, who died in 1887, and
a bronze figure of whom stands at the
head of her grave. The grave of Mr.
| *isn was lined with branches of ever
i green, and as the coffin was being low
ered, the real beauty and simplicity of
the scene was strikingly brought to
the mind of the writer by Gen Horace
Porter, standing at his side and who
In the silence that prevailed, softly
said: *
"Can you imagine anything more
beautiful than this? Mr. Fish was one
of the great men of our country, yet
here he is brought and laid to rest In
the common earth just as the most
humble among us might be, and in the
midst of this peaceful and historic
section of country by the side of a wife
he loved, in the shades of the spot
which he most enjoyed In life, full of
years, and leaving not only a sorrow-
Ing community but a saddened nation
behind him."
To this same peaceful rural spot the
body of young Hamilton Fish may, in
the ccurse of time, be removed for in
terment, though it would seem more
fitting, perhaps, that his present rest
ing place among the Cuban palms on
the spot where he sacrificed his life,
should be made permanent; that the
graves of himself and his fellow com
rades might form the nucleus of a cem
etery in that land wherein may be
burled those of our soldiers and sailors
who shall have given up their lives in
the cause of Cuban liberty. Already
the soil of Cuba is rendered sacred to
Americans in that it holds the shat
tered mortal remnants of the victims
of the Maine; and there they will
doubtless repose forever.
— Rlghard Cl i f ton.
TRAVELERS' GUIDE.
Trains leave and arrive ai St. r*.m <k* rai
lows.
LNION DEPOT,~SIBI,EY STREET.
kfoßfl^tV 100 East Third Street.
RAll^ 'Phone 1143.
Leave. | a Daily, b Except Sunday. I Arrivo
b9:osam|....Breck. Dlv. & B'An....| MAm
bS^Oamj.F'gus Falls Dlv. & B'ches.i b4 35pni
tß:2Oam!...\Vi!lmar, via St. C10ud..., l»<> 15pi»
a":00pm Breck., Fargo. Gd.F'ks.Wpg; a7;!3aw
al:3opm Alaska Limited as:i:,pm
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i aß:u °P m Crookston Express I a7.3u.ua
KASTEKN MINNESOTA R A IL W AY.~7
j|JjS£i PulnlhAWe.tSup.rtor. [■*]%"
j£%\ TICKET OFFICE
i Uwo) sth & Robert Sts.
Aj£c|\V> "- :; - Statin, St. Paul.
>feft]fj^^ Milwaukee Station. Mlnneapo'fs.
Dining and Pullman Cars on Winnipeg- A CcaMl mint
Pacific Mail, Daily; Fargo, Boieman Leave AiriTe
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Tacoma. Seattle and l\tt...u: i:3oprr s: lopm
Dike!* and Masiteba Exjrcs:. r«ii\ .
Moorncad, Farpo. Ferifus Fails
Wahpeton, Crootston. Graad Turk*
UrartonanJ Winnipeg- V3opm 7:lsam
Fcrss Losil, Daily except Sunday
Bt : Cl<iu.l. Bratoerdand Kairo . „ B:3oam6:oopm
"North- Western Lln3"-C.,St.P.,M. &3
Office. 395 Robert St. Thone MH
Leave. ; a Daily, b Except Sunday. Arrive."
aß:l6am!. .Chicago "Day Express"., h? ".".pm
b6 :3opm ..Chicago "Atlantic Ex.". .all 3 am
aS:lopm I'lilrago "N. W. Limited". a7:sna>n
! b9:2sam .Puluth, Superior, Ash and L 3 05pm
all :00pm!. Duluth, Superior, Ashland ai TiOam
a9:33am .Su City. Omaha, Kan City a 7 Spa
b4 :sopm. Mankato, New Vlm.Elmore bl' 1 0 'am
a7:4spm'Su City, Omaha, Kan. City aT^'am
STTpAUL I DULUTH R. I.
From Union Depot. Office, 398 Robert St.
Leave. ! a Dally, b Except Sunday. Arrive.
a9 :ooam ; DULOtTH
anJlfpm WESTSUPEmOR ".i^m
Trains for Stillwater: a 9:05 am. al2:10,
a 2:15. a 5:35. a":30 pm. For Taylor's Fal.t:
a9Xsam. ji2.lspm. bs :3spm.
ZJ^TSfTP. & S. 8. M.~RY
Leave. 1 EAST. |Arrive.
7:2opm... Atlantic Limited (d.-.11y)... B:4san.
9:osani .Rhinelandcr Local (ex. Sun.).! s:Cipm
I WEST.
l;spm PaciOc Limited (daily) :7:ospm
JSt. Croli Falls Local Except:
I Sunday. From Broadway |
6:oopm, Depot, foot 4th St I 9:i:..a
6:3opm Dakota Express. Lv. Milt- 1
[ neapolis. Except Sunday 10:00a-n
BURLINGTON ROTJTE.
FINEST TRAINS ON EARTH.
Lv. Tori STATIONS. |Ar From
8:15 am!.. Chicago, except Sunday..' 12 15p:a
B:lsam'. .St. Louis, except Sunday..'
B:ospm!. Chicago & St. J^uls, daily I 7:4i«.Ti
Tlcke^offlce. 400 Robert St. Tel. 35.
OmpO&REAT WBTERN RY]
"The Maple Leaf Route."
Ticket Office: Prtinrtll jw Mfclt rinaip 15a
Trains leave (10:11 St. Paul Union Demit.
•Dally. +Kxeopt Sunday. L.-aye. Arrive.
Dubudue. ChkajKo, Waterloo, I +B.lo am t?..>i'i>m
MarshHlltown. Dcs Molnes... -<*s.lopin *7.4iaui _,
St. Joseph ami Kansas City . . | *s.in pm '1.-..M pm
Mautorvlllo Leval •a.Oftimi *io.44iun
Chi^igoTMiTwaohee & St. Pauilailroal
Ticket Office 3(55 Kclxrt St. 'Phone t*B.
a Dally. b^ Except Sun.lay Lv. St. P. Ar. St.pT
Chicago "Day" Express.. bß:lsam hin-inrm
Chicago "Atlantic" Ex a^:s">pm all :3'ia;n
Chicago "Fast Mall" a6:sSpm 111:00 m
Chicago "Pioneer Limited". l aß:lnpm a" 6 am
Chic, via Prairie dv C. d;v.l b44;m bll aia
Peorla via Mason City i a4:li'tim all :15am
Dubuque via La Crosse..j bß:U«m'blO I
St. Louis and Kansas City.i aß:3sam rtftra
Milbank and Way I bs.2o:m M o,m
Aberdeen and Dakota Ex.l »7 :o6pm n<-lSam
WTSCONSIN CENT^
City Office, 873 Robert Bt. 'Phone No. CD4.
Leave I \-rlv«
StPaull All Trains Daily. |fl i aul
j Eau Claire, Chippewa I'alls. |
8:00 am Mi:waukee and Chlcagu B:lsam
lAshlanli. Chippewa Falls Osh-'
7:4flrm'kosh. Milwaukee and Chicago. I :opra
M. A St. L.. Depot— Broad wny it Illi.
MINNEAPOLIS & ST. LOUIS R. R
"ALHKKT I.EA ROUTS."
Leave, la Dally. b Except suuuuy.|Arii.«
Tifankatp. Dcs Molnes, Ce
b9:lsam!..dar Raoida, Kau. City. ., b« 30.,ra '-
bS:4sam[...Watertown, New Ulm...| b4:sspm
b4:3spml New Ulm Local ;bl0:00am
a7:oopm!Des Molnes & Omaha Llm.| a8 :10am
a7:oopm!Chlcago & St. Louis Llm. 1 aS:lofira
b4 :4spm! Albert Lea ft Waneoa Locallbii) X im