These processions vary but very little, except that I thought there was more of preparation, banners, &c. in that of St. Nicholas, on the 6th December. The streets were profusely adorned, road and foot-path strewed with flowers, leaves, and boughs. Small cannon were placed on the pavement near the church, the firing of which, and the discharge of rockets and other fire-works, gave notice that the saint and his holy attendants were about to leave the church. Gentlemen, both civil and military, of the first families, at times, bear banners in the procession. These days being kept as holidays, a vast concourse stroll about the decorated streets before the attraction of the day begins. The windows, house-tops, and benches ranged near the houses, are occupied by females, the lovely persons of some of whom might move an anchorite. A scene so new has almost upset my sober reasoning; and I have looked at the host, friars, crosses, music, and all the et ceteras, till I could nearly fancy that time had rolled back, and found me living when the Catholic church knew no rival.
The feast of St. Nicholas, in December, 1824, was but a mockery of its former splendour: however, the church of San Nicholas was illuminated, and looked very pretty; and we had some bonfires, music, and fire-works. A procession was to have taken place, but the government would not pay the expense, and the church, in its present reduced state, cannot afford it. The devotees muttered their Ave-Marias and maledictions; but, as St. Nicholas did not interfere in their behalf, all went off quietly.
The feast of Corpus Christi is another grand day. The whole body of friars, with banners and flags of their different orders, mustered on the occasion, and, before the suppression of the monasteries, they constituted a decent battalion. The dress of the friars differs in nothing to what we find represented in England,—the cowl and crown, with the small cross suspended. The processions, in the course of the year, used to be very numerous. Since the dispersion of the friars, they are somewhat shorn of their beams; and, by-and-by, the sight of a friar may be a curiosity. To decorate the churches on these occasions, the priests borrow candlesticks, silks, &c. of their neighbours.
During Lent, sermons are preached on an evening, in various churches. The congregations are numerous, and the females always kneel. The custom of allowing males to be seated in church, while the other sex are upon their knees, appears strange.
As the theatre is situated opposite the Merced church, during the sermons of the Lent evenings, some of the congregation may be seen wandering from the church to the theatre.
In passion week, there are various masses and sermons.
The afternoon and evening of Holy Thursday bring forth all the world into the streets: every house appears deserted. The concourse is astonishing: the great proportion are females. A rule of Catholic creed enjoins them to visit seven churches on this day; and this they religiously perform, stopping but a few minutes in each church, just time enough to kneel, and utter a short prayer. The governor and his aides-de-camp, likewise, go to seven churches. A crowd of both sexes assemble round the doors, especially of the Cathedral, absolutely blocking up the road way, kneeling, counting beads, and in earnest prayer.
In 1821, I saw images and other insignia of the church at the corners of the principal streets; prisoners ironed, with their guards, soliciting charity; small tables, with virgins, Jesus, and crosses: but these customs have much fallen off. Near a church, those altars are still raised on Holy Thursday, and people press around, to kiss the garments of the “mother of God.” Near St. Juan’s church, in 1824, I observed a pretty design of this nature upon a small scale, and envied the kisses it received from some charming girls. On this night, too, the military bands muster in their best dresses, with drums muffled, and other marks of mourning. They advance across the Plaza, and through the streets, at a solemn pace, playing music even more melancholy than the Dead March in Saul, preceded by one of the soldiers carrying, on a pole, a balloon with transparencies, and a light inside, which makes them look a counterpart of those that paraded London streets, a few years ago, from the lottery offices. During this period of mourning, both sexes are clothed in black. This continual crowd in the streets, and the peculiar church attire, serve to attract one’s attention; it is so much the reverse of our English mode: we go to church in all the colours of the rainbow.
In addition to other observances of Holy Thursday the flags of vessels belonging to Catholic nations are half-masted, yards crossed, and at the Fort, likewise, they remain till near twelve o’clock on the Saturday, at which hour cannon are fired, yards squared, the flag run up, bells rung, and shops are opened, for the joyful resurrection. But the bells do not give us those inspiring peals that we hear from our churches of St. Martin’s, St. Clement’s, and from the far-famed Bow bells: here, they are an inharmonious jangle. Our churches, so superb in architectural splendour, would astonish those gentlemen who fancy an Englishman’s taste only leads him towards vending merchandize, and receiving the proceeds.
Good Friday passes as a solemn day of prayer and mourning.