Macon beacon. [volume] (Macon, Miss.) 1859-1995, 1918-08-23
stricken preferred to remain and to
die among their dear ones.

stricken preferred to remain and to
die among their dear ones.
Yes, Matanzas was pacifed. Wey-
ler's boast was true. Nowhere in the
entire province was a field in cult
walton; nowhere, outside the garri-
soned towns, was a house left stand
ing. Nor was the city Of Matanzas the
only concentration camp; there were
others dotted through Santa Clara.
Habana and Pinar del Rio. In them
half a million people cried for food.
Truly no rebellious land was ever
more completely pacifed than this, no
peoples spirits ever more completely
crushed.
Into Matanzas, city Of beggary and
death, came Rosa Varona and her two
negro companions, looking for relief.
They made the journey without mis-
hap, for they were too destitute to
warrant plundering, and Rosa's dis
guise concealed what charms remained
to her. But once they had entered the
city, what an awakening! What suf-
fering, what poverty, what rags they
saw! The three Of them grew weak
with dismay at the horror of it all /;
but there was nc retreat.
Asensio built a makeshift shelter
close under La Cumbre-from it the
ruins Of the Quinta de Esteban were
visible-and there they settled down
to live. They had hoped to lose them
selves among the other prisoners, and
in this they were successful, for none
Of their miserable neighbors were in
any condition to notice them, and
there was nothing sufficiently con-
| spicuous about two tattered blacks
and their hunchbacked daughter to
draw attention from the soldiers.
Asensio foraged zealously, and at
first he managed somehow to secure
enough food for his little family. One
day the sofdiers seized him and put
him to work on the Notifications along
with a gang Of other men who ap-
peared strong enough to stand hard
labor. Asensio was not paid for this,
but he was allowed one meal a day,
and he succeeded in bringing home
each night a share Of his allotment.
1t is surprising how little nourish-
ment will sustain life. Rosa and her
two friends had long felt the pinch
Of hunger, but now they plumbed new
depths Of privation, for there were
days when Asensio and his fellow con-
scripts received nothing at all. After
a time Evangelina began making bas-
kets and weaving palm-leaf hats, which
she sold at six cents each. She taught
Rosa the craft, and they worked from
dawn until dark, striving with nimble,
t~irsless fingers to supplement Asensio's
rations and postpone starvation. But
1t was a hopeless task. Other nimble
fingers worked as tirelessly as theirs,
and the demand for hats was limited.
Their hut overlooked the road to
San Seyerino, that Via Dolorosa on
which condemned prisoners were
marched out to execution, and in time
the women learned to recognize the
peculiar blaring notes Of a certain cor
net, which signi1ed that another "Cu-
ban cock vas about to crow" When
in the damp Of dewy mornings they
heard that bugle they ceased their
weaving long enough to cross them
selves and whisper a prayer for the
souls of those who were ON their way
i to die. But this was the only respite
they allowed themselves.
Rosa meditated much upon the con.
trast between her present and her for.
mer condition. Matanzas was the city
of her birth, and tims was when she
had trod its streets IN arrogance and
pride, when she had possessed friends
by the score among its residents. But
of all these there was not one to whom
she dared appeal In this, her hour OF
need. But even had she felt assured
Of meeting sympathy, her pride was
pure Castillan, and 1t would never
down. She, q Varona, whose name was
one to c~onjure with, whose lineage was
Of the highest! She to beg? The
thing was quite impossible. One crumb
so taken, would have choked her
Rosa preferred to suffer proudly and
await the hour when hunger or disease
would at last bet out her memories