A Cuban gentleman, now over threescore years and ten, told the author, in Cuba, that nothing in ancient or modern history exceeded in horror the slave-trade of Cuba during this period. In spite of England's watchfulness, it could be made profitable, even if occasional mishaps sent a shipful of unhappy Africans, chained together below decks, to the bottom of the sea, or a catastrophe set fire to the load of writhing humanity, fettered to prevent escape. Naturally a large percentage died on the voyage, and the condition of those landed was so awful that a description would be impossible in these pages. It will suffice to say that upon one occasion a young Cuban, who had been sent down by his employer to land some of these unfortunate creatures, was so impressed by the awful spectacle that he shot himself through the brain with a revolver and died on the spot. So long as this traffic continued, and the plantations of the Island were supplied by the unhappy African victims of man's inhumanity to man, there was no labour trouble in Cuba. Under such conditions sugar-growing was a comparatively simple process, and those engaged in it became wealthy. The day of reckoning, however, was at hand. After repeated disappointments, England succeeded in absolutely stopping further importations of slaves into Cuba. Up to the time of the breaking out of the insurrection of 1868, black labour had been almost exclusively used on the sugar estates of Cuba. Bad as slavery is at the best, there was in Cuba probably the worst system ever known. The work was of the hardest, the climatic conditions severe, and the unhappy victims of cupidity were ill-treated and brutalised. With such a beginning, continuing in one form and another until 1885, how could such conditions produce aught but dissatisfaction and misery at the present time?