A quarter of a mile further north, along the main extension of the moat, is a wide wooden bridge that connects the outer ramparts with the citadel, the roadway passing through a massive and impressive gate or portal, over which a carved inscription gives the dates in which the work was begun and concluded, together with the name of its founders and the Spanish officers in command at the time of its construction. The grounds within are ample for military drill and instruction and are well equipped for the care and maintenance of a defending force. When Spain’s army retired from Cuba in the last days of 1899, both Cabañas and Morro presented a very different appearance from that of today. Long lines of cells had been built into the stone walls, in which hundreds, if not thousands, of political prisoners had spent years of confinement. Each of these dreary, cheerless abodes was about 30 feet in width by 60 in length, with a low arched ceiling and massive barred doors, facing the west. Each cell was supposed to accommodate fifty men, and some of them contained long parallel wooden bars, between which prisoners might swing hammocks if they were fortunate enough to possess them. Many men prominent in Cuban political and military life have occupied these cells of Cabañas and also those of its companion, El Morro. General Julio Sanguily, among others, passed three years in cell No. 57, until, through the urgent intercession of the American Government, he was finally set at liberty and permitted to enter the United States, of which he claimed citizenship. Stretching along the western face of the fortress is a wide stone parapet overlooking the bay and the City of Havana opposite. Planted on its surface is a long line of interesting brass cannon, ornamented with Spanish coats of arms and bearing inscriptions that tell of their making in Seville, at various periods throughout the 18th century. These cannon are used today for saluting purposes when foreign men of war enter the harbor on friendly visits. Near the center of the citadel stood a small stone chapel that would accommodate 50 or 100 men. Near one end was built a round pagoda-like altar before which the condemned could kneel in prayer during their last night on earth, since those who entered its tragic portals well knew that at sunrise the following morning they would face the firing squad that would pass them on to eternity. This historically tragic apartment has recently been converted into a moving picture hall for the benefit of Cuban soldiers who are at present stationed in Cabañas.