But the oppressive government led to another uprising in 1723, which again was quickly quelled. Twelve of the leaders were hanged by Guazo, who was at that time the captain-general. Twice, therefore, did the one who was in the wrong conquer, simply from the possession of superior force. It is said that the mills of God grind slowly, but they grind exceeding small. And in the light of recent events, this seems to be, and in fact, so far as human intelligence can determine, it is true. Richard Le Galliene, to-day, toward the end of the nineteenth century, speaks in clarion tones, as follows: "Spain is an ancient dragon, That too long hath curled Its coils of blood and darkness About the new-born world. Think of the Inquisition Think of the Netherlands! Yea! think of all Spain's bloody deeds In many times and lands. And let no feeble pity Your sacred arms restrain; This is God's mighty moment To make an end of Spain." About this time, that is, from 1724 to 1747, Cuba, chiefly, if not almost entirely, at Havana, became a ship building centre, of course, once more, at least for a time, to the advantage of Spain. In all, there were constructed some one hundred and twenty-five vessels, carrying amongst them four thousand guns. These ships comprised six ships of the line, twenty-one of seventy to eighty guns each, twenty-six of fifty to sixty guns, fourteen frigates of thirty to forty guns and fifty-eight smaller vessels. But then Spain became jealous--imagine a parent jealous of the success of its child!--and the ship-building industry was peremptorily stopped. During the present century, in Cuba only the machinery of one steamer, the Saqua, has been constructed, and two ships, one a war steamer and one a merchant steamer, have been built at Havana. What a commentary on the dominating and destructive policy--self-destructive policy, too--of Spain! In 1739, there arose in England a popular excitement for a war against Spain. One of the chief incidents which led to this was an episode which caused Thomas Carlyle to call the strife that followed "The War of Jenkins' Ear." The English had persisted in maintaining a trade with Cuba in spite of Spain's prohibition. A certain Captain Jenkins, who was in command of an English merchantman, was captured by a Spanish cruiser. His ship was subjected to search, and he himself, according to his own declaration, put to the torture. The Spaniards, however, could find little or nothing of which to convict him, and, irritated at this they committed a most foolish act, a deed of childish vengeance. They cut off one of his ears and told him to take it back to England and show it to the king. Jenkins preserved his mutilated ear in a bottle of spirits, and, in due course of time, appeared himself before the House of Commons and exhibited it to that body. The excitement ensuing upon the proof of this outrage to a British subject beggars description.