[What follows is a
fictional account of one of the greatest chapters in Cuban history. It was
created for a writing class at the California Institute of Integral Studies
about ten years ago. Although it is a true story, some of the facts have been
pulled out of thin air. Essentially that’s all that the Cuban rebels had in the
mid-19th century. All dates given are as accurate as history allows.]
In his battles
against the Spanish Empire, Cuban leader Antonio Maceo suffered 24 battle
wounds, some of them nearly fatal. But this is not a story about him, although
he features prominently in it. This is the story of how his mother, Mariana
Grajales, and his wife, María Cabrales saved
his life repeatedly during the Ten-Year War (1868-78).
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When María Josefa Eufemia Cabrales y Fernández was born in San Luis, Oriente Province (March 20, 1842)
the idea of a free Cuba was growing quietly among the black and white people of
Oriente Province.
The following year Marcos Maceo
and Mariana Grajales y Cuello entered into a common law marriage. Their first
son, Antonio, was born two years later.
The Maceo family ran a couple of farms and
generally stayed out of the way of politics and controversies. But Antonio had
a natural curiosity and an easy ability with people, and there was no way to
escape fate.
On February 16, 1866, just less than two years
before Cuba’s first war for independence began, Antonio Maceo married María
Cabrales. They moved into a house in the Maceo family farm (La Esperanza), and
their first daughter was born in November of that year.
Like many free black Cubans, the Maceo family
lived what we’d now call a multi-racial existence, with black and white friends
and the bonds that came from opposing the Spanish Empire and dreaming of a free
Cuba, where Cubans could decide their fate and finally eliminate the imposed racism
of an aging empire.
The war began with the Grito de Yara (Cry of Yara
– on October 10 1868), in which Carlos Manuel de Céspedes and other landowners
in Oriente Province freed their slaves and declared their freedom from Spain.
The first clash with Spanish troops came two
days later, at Yara. The rebels were victorious, and that night they had dinner
at the Maceo home in Mujabuabo. The family was all there, including María and
her newborn daughter, Maceo’s mother (Mariana Grajales) and father (Marcos),
five brothers, two sisters and various children.
Before most of the Maceo men left with the
rebels to fight for Cuban independence, Mariana spoke; “Everyone, parents and
children, kneel before Christ, the first liberal man who came to the world, and
swear to free the country or die for her.”
In A History of Cuba and its relations with The
United States, Volume 2, historian Philip S. Foner wrote: “Indeed,
as a passionate patriot and foe of the Spaniards, this Negro woman, Mariana
Grajales, one of the outstanding women in Cuba’s revolutionary history, swayed
her entire family to the cause of independence.”
As the rebels rode away, Mariana looked at her
daughter in law María, who held her newborn baby as her husband faded into the
distance with the other black and white Cubans. The women shared a sad look.
“I’m not as tough as her,” thought María.
--
The Spanish Captain General (a combined
military/civil title for the ultimate ruler of the country in the absence of
the Spanish king or queen) was surprised that the Cubans were able to put up
such a good fight.
The Cubans were unstoppable, even with limited
weapons, untrained soldiers and a largely inexperienced leadership. Once the
rebels began to distinguish themselves, the Captain General began to pay close
attention to the insurrection.
One man in particular had begun to stand out on
the battlefield because of his courage, intelligence, and knowledge of the
terrain. As a result, Antonio Maceo’s family had to leave their property and
join the war effort. The youngest brother, Rafael, became the first casualty.
He was captured and quickly executed.
--
María and Mariana soon found
themselves in the roles of impromptu nurses and doctors and all around medical
troubleshooters in the battlefield. As soon as the rebels could assemble a
hospital, both women were among the most principal members.
Mariana stood apart as being particularly tough
and solid, and María maintained as best she
could, holding in her emotions and getting the job done.
On May 22, 1869, Antonio Maceo received his
first of 24 wounds. María and Mariana were
surprised to see him, but they nursed him back to health and he returned to
action within a week. Maceo and Maria’s two daughters died a few weeks later of
cholera. The long war was just beginning.
The Maceo brothers received their share of
wounds during the first five years of the war, and many would joke that
Antonio’s heroism was due to the fact that he could spend time with his wife
when wounded. It wasn’t a particularly good joke.
One rainy afternoon there were many more wounded
and dying coming in to the makeshift hospital than they could care for. One of
the young wives could not easily accept her role as nurse. “He was just alive,”
she cried. “He was just alive…” Frozen from the sight of a dead young man in
front of her, another woman cried that she knew the deceased.
María approached the group. “This
one’s already dead. That one needs your help, now.” The woman hesitates. “I
know this man… I know this man…” She’s
frozen. Mariana steps in. “There’s no time for tears here. If you skirts can’t
handle it get out and let the rest of us do our jobs.” She turned towards her
daughter in law María, who was already
attending to the wounded soldier. “That’s my girl,” she thought secretly.
The war got rougher, and many rebels died. The
hospital had to be moved frequently, as the Spanish Empire was not about to
easily let go of her one remaining foothold in the new world.
--
María and Mariana were proudest of
their men when they were freeing slaves.
They heard the stories from the wounded soldiers they helped heal.
Being a free slave in Cuba wasn’t an easy life. Their
choices were to join the rebels in battle, or to run and hide in the hills.
Many slaves had never held a weapon in their hands before. Many of the women
served in hospitals, others were runners, or carriers, able to blend into a
city or town, bring or pick up rebel news, and move on. Those who were captured
in this capacity were tortured, raped and killed.
--
The war didn’t get any easier for María, who
felt that she could not handle things as well as her tough mother in law. But everyone else seemed to think that she
handled things well enough. She could be counted on to do the things that today
a trained and well-equipped professional would do. And the few times when she
had to pick up a rifle and fight for her wounded, she did that too, quite well.
It is said that on more than one occasion the
women treated the very Spanish soldiers they had fired at in battle.
But it was Mariana’s name that was becoming
legendary, although few outside the rebel circles could identify her. She was often
described as the mother of the bravest soldiers the island had yet produced.
After her husband (Marcos Maceo) was killed in
battle (his dying words to his son Antonio were: “I hope I’ve been good to
Mariana…”) her bravery and devotion became legendary. Historian Philip Foner, in his book, Antonio
Maceo, describes the scene of Marcos’ funeral; "Mariana
Grajales, living incarnation of Cuban patriotism, cried out to the youngest of
her sons, still a little boy: 'and you, stand up tall; it is already time that
you should fight for your country.'"
--
On August 6, 1877, Antonio Maceo received his
most serious wound in the war so far. His close friend and doctor, Félix
Figueredo, did not expect him to survive. General Gómez asked for volunteers to
take care of Maceo. Antonio’s brother, José, and Dr. Figueredo were the first
to volunteer, and soon they picked about a dozen others from a much larger
share of volunteers. Their mission was to move Maceo to safety and guard him during
the recovery period. The first task was
to stabilize him on a stretcher and move him away from the battle.
Within a few days, María joined the small band
of rebels, and at about that time pursuit from the Spaniards began.
The word had spread among the Spanish troops
that Maceo had been killed in battle. But eventually they learned from a re-captured
slave that he was being treated in the hills. The Captain General ordered that
Maceo’s death was the highest priority, and his capture, if possible, would be
the second priority.
A frantic search began, with Spanish troops
forming small bands of soldiers that could move easily through the hills and
mountainous terrain of Oriente Province. They were so close during those hot days
of mid-August that the rebels were unable to start fires for cooking, and could
not trust anyone they met, as Spanish spies had been promised gold and other
rewards for Maceo’s death.
On various occasions María and Chucha, an
ex-slave who had known the Maceos since before the war, had to carry Maceo’s
stretcher while José and Felix fought off the enemy hand to hand, preventing
them from firing the weapons that would warn others. Sometimes bullets would whiz by, and other
times the hand-to-hand combat came close enough to touch.
On August 13 Dr. Figueredo wrote to General
Gómez that in spite of his earlier estimate that Maceo could not survive, he
now appeared to be out of serious danger. That was a completely medical
assessment, not a military one.
The Spaniards were closing in, even
as the rebels went deeper into the woods, or higher into the mountains. “We
could hear them breathing,” wrote Figueredo. Maceo was still on a stretcher,
and had to be carefully moved by two people, generally María and
one of the other freed slaves.
On one sunny morning Chucha gave everyone a hug,
said goodbye and left the camp. It didn’t take long before a Spanish guard
stopped her. She pretended to have been frightened by the rebels and gave false
information which would lead them away. It was a dangerous move; if the
Spaniards had not believed her, they may have killed her on the spot, or they
might have brought her with them to make sure she was telling the truth. She
was lucky, and they let her go.
They must have believed her, because for the
next few days the rebels were able to enjoy the kind of peace and quiet, they
hadn’t seen in a while. Some of the locals brought them cooked meat, bread and
beans, and news that Captain General Martínez Campos himself had ordered a
column of 3,000 men to surround the area. They wouldn’t be able to stay there
much longer. The locals promised not to disclose Maceo’s location.
María cried in secret. There was no way they
could outdistance a mobile army of 3,000 men.
The siege began within a week, and for a
two-week period the chase was relentless, as a small group of soldiers that
included 2 women (María and an ex-slave girl liberated by Maceo) fought a running
battle that almost devastated them. Some historians, Foner included, have
referred to this as one of the greatest moments in Cuban history.
At the end of this period, it was María and the
ex-slave girl who suggested a Cuban version of the “Kansas City Shuffle.”
Dressed in the rags of slave women, they ran towards the Spanish forces and
warned them of “wild rebels” in the area. They described larger forces than
were actually there and suggested a direction they might take. This was a similar “story” to what Chucha had
done a few weeks earlier, but the troops were different. The women were escorted
off the hills to the edge of town and released.
On September 27, less than two
months after receiving his terrible wounds, Maceo was able to mount his horse
(Guajamón) and gallop away in a "cloud of dust and smoke."
Three days later he was safe in San
Miguel with María, Marianna, his brother, and other
members of his escort. It was one of the few dinners they were able to have
together in about a decade.
Labels: Antonio Maceo, Cuba, Jose Maceo, Maria Cabrales, Mariana Grajales, Ten Year War
