March 24 Monday – On board the Kanawha in Havana harbor, Sam wrote to Livy [MTP].
Dearheart, we are anchored fifty yards from the wrenched & tangled battered bunch of rusty iron which stands for the “Maine” & looks like a brobdignagian tarantula in his death-squirm.
Sam then wrote of the activities of the prior day, Mar. 23 (see entry), and finished with:
An officer (U.S.A.) at the fort (the Morrow) has a wife who was born in Florida, Mo. That woman will be a curiosity of a sort which I suppose I have not seen for 60 years. We return the visit to-day— we were not on board when the officers called.
Toward evening, to-day, we sail. I hope we shall get letters before we start, but it is doubtful—this is far away, & the mails are very slow. We think, though, that the letters may overtake us at Santiago. We’ll hope so, anyway [MTP].
Insert: Moro Castle (Spanish: Castillo de los Tres Reyes Magos del Morro) is a picturesque fortress built in 1589 guarding the entrance to Havana bay.
Sam’s notebook: “Cuban police in gray. Quite plenty. Town fairly clean & orderly. Garbage boats. Col. Waring. Ought to have monument. To cigar factory…tongue the cigar-ends. Hands smoke $200 worth a day.
The Morro. Death Ditch. Florida girl. Capt. Post. Sailed 6 p.m.” [NB 45 TS 7].
Sam’s ship log:
Visited one of the great & famous cigar factories & saw a multitude of black & yellow men & women & boys & girls making a celebrated brand of costly cigars that have no value but a commercial value. Only the rich & insane smoke them. Among these are included the princes, nobilities & kings. When the end of a cigar-wrapper does not fasten properly, the nigger licks it. Some day there will be a new disease among the wealthy the nobel, & the doctors will not know whence it came. That dingy herd of cigar makers are expensive, over & above their wages: they smoke the best brands of cigars all day. The ignorant among our party bought large stocks of superdamnable cigars at $26 a hundred, although I warned them that if they would only wait they could get better ones in Jamaica at two dollars a barrel. But some people would rather suffer in body & mind & estate than lose a chance to beat the custom-house.
Visited the Moro Castle & foregathered with the American officers & their wives. It was a strong place in the time of the old guns.
THE MAINE.
Visited the wreck of the Maine, in the midst of the harbor—a gnarled & twisted & squirming tangle of iron-work sticking about the water, & suggestive of a giant spider shriveling on a stove-lid. “Who done it” was still unsettled. We did not settle it.
Sailed. Six p.m. [MTP].
The Kanawha and passengers sailed from Havana around the western tip of Cuba.