SANTIAGO DE CUBA.-August 17, 1870, 4:30 a.m. The roll of drums tears the dawn. In the Plaza de Dolores, the Regiment of the Crown - polished boots, Remington rifles on the shoulder - forms its ranks. The order of the day is clear: "Execution of the insurgent leaders at half past six at the usual place" (the old slaughterhouse, wall of so many independence dreams).
Major General of the Liberation Army Pedro Felipe Figueredo Cisneros (Perucho) lies on the floor, his ulcerated feet are two open wounds that prevent him from walking. The handcuffs bite his wrists, but not his dignity. When the officer orders him to "Walk!", the author of La Bayamesa looks up: "Can't you see I can't? Bring me a car". The Spaniard mumbles a curse and sends for a donkey, as a sign of mockery.
Perucho, with that irony that is born when death loses its power, whispers: "I will not be the first redeemer that rides on an ass". The beast advances slowly and gallantly, as if knowing that he is carrying a symbol, not a prisoner.
At 6:20 a.m., the 25-man platoon squares up. Next to Perucho, Rodrigo and Ignacio Tamayo, father and son, stand erect. Rodrigo, in a gesture that the chronicle records with pain, extends his handcuffed hands to bless his son, before being shot. The officer's voice cuts the humid air: "Prepare!... Aim!... Fire!".
The discharges thunder. The three bodies fall like flags unfurled for the last time. The blood of Perucho -the author of the glorious notes of the Cuban National Anthem, the famous patriot of the Bayamo revolution- bathes mother earth.
155 years later, the echo of that morning still resounds: the bullets silenced a body, but not the word that, turned into a hymn, set fire to the sleeping decorum of men. Perucho, serene as the horizon before the storm, rejected cowardly forgiveness and, by pronouncing his verses - "To die for the Homeland is to live"-, transformed lead into seed.
