IT WAS on August 12 that the protocol was signed and hostilities were suspended between Spain and the United States; and it was on that day, curiously enough, for the first time for two months that shots were fired in anger in Havana. At dawn, we were awakened by the booming of the guns in the coast batteries, even the heavy 32-centimètre Krupps being brought into play, so that the windows rattled throughout the city. But this did not last long, and after half an hour’s noise the usual stillness of the blockade again fell upon the city. Rumours were afloat that the preliminaries of peace had been settled; but it was not until August 15 that this was officially announced by General Blanco, whose proclamation was published in the Havana papers. The news was received by the population with an amazing apathy; there was an entire absence of excitement in the city; it seemed as if the wearisome blockade had sapped the energy of the people; they had all lost interest in the Spanish-American dispute for the time, and no one cared longer what would be done, or whether it would be peace or war.
Observers thought it probable that a reaction would occur, that the enraged Spaniards, the armed volunteers more especially, waking up to the situation, would fall upon the Cubans in the city. It was expected, too, that the army would not accept the situation quietly and would refuse to surrender Havana to the enemy. None of these expected troubles has arisen so far, and it is now unlikely that they will arise.
As to the Cubans they are anxiously asking themselves whether it is to be annexation or independence for the island, who is to pay and feed the insurgent forces, and so forth. For here we are still kept in the dark as to what is being done, more so indeed, than during the blockade. No sooner was the blockade raised than numerous Americans arrived here from Key West. The Americans now walk freely through the Havana Streets, frequent the crowded cafés, and are never molested or insulted by this very well-behaved population.