Just opposite the old palace on whose balconies we were placed was one of the five churches through which the procession was to pass. In the roadway beneath, people had already gathered in expectation of its approach, and as we waited a sound of distant music, monotonous, penetrating, reached us. Then the town drummers, led by a small body of mounted civil guards (who defiled to a side and rode on to await their exit from the farther door of the building) appeared, and still vigorously plying their drum-sticks, marched into the church.
Very few members of the clergy were to be seen. The participants in the solemnity were almost entirely laymen. Representatives of many municipal bodies took part in the procession. There were civic authorities who carried a well-brushed silk hat in one of their white-gloved hands and a lighted candle in the other: doctors, members of the Red Cross Society, the town band, firemen, police, boys from the orphanage, old men from the workhouse—all evidently proudly conscious of the importance of their position.
At intervals a platform supporting one of the fine carved images from the Cathedral was borne by. When the beautiful effigy of the Crucified Christ from the Church of La Sangre—that exquisite statue to whose flowing hair so many women have gloried to contribute their tresses—was carried past, the expectant crowd fell upon its knees before it.
To our untutored eyes a striking feature of the observance was the long succession of masked penitents, who, bearing tall lighted candles, walked in a double line. The hue of their robes varied from almost bright blue to the more effective black and white. Some were handsomely embroidered, others plain. Two of the men were laden with chains; and one at least trod the cobble stones with naked feet, in public fulfilment of a vow taken in a time of impending danger.
Most of the penitents held lace-edged handkerchiefs to protect the candles from the warmth of their hands; but in spite of the precaution certain of the candles already showed signs of softening. Many of the processionists bore emblems of the Passion, and one group as it entered the church broke into a mournful chant.
One of the observances of the function appeared to be the distribution of sweets. It was curiously incongruous to see the masked figures drop comfits into outstretched hands. We noted one pause before a pretty pink-clad señorita, who with her dueña was standing opposite our balcony, and signing to her to open the silver chain-bag she held, he poured into it a great handful of sugared almonds, to her blushing satisfaction.
The ceremony was imposing, touching, full of affecting suggestion; but even as we looked we could not help regretting that night had not fallen. Then the sight of a long sequence of quaint figures bearing the tall lighted tapers through the sombre crooked streets of the old town would have been much more impressive.