Twenty-three years later, the body of Columbus, with that of his son Diego, was removed to the island of San Domingo, or Hayti, and interred in the principal church of the capital; but when that island was ceded to the French, the Spaniards claimed the ashes of the Discoverer, and they were carried to Havana and solemnly interred in the Cathedral on the 15th January 1796. The remains, which by this time, it seems, were scanty enough, were placed in a small urn, deposited in a niche in the left wall of the chancel, and sealed up with a marble slab, surmounted by an excellent bust of the bold explorer, wreathed with laurel. The inscription, a very poor one, excited considerable ridicule, and a pasquinade was circulated lamenting the absence of the nine Muses on the occasion of its composition.
Of late years, however, the inhabitants of San Domingo[13] have set up a protest in favour of certain bones which have been discovered in their own cathedral, and declare by their gods, or by their saints, that never a bone of Columbus left their island, and that the relics of the great Christopher in the Cathedral of Havana, unto which so many pilgrimages have been made, are as apocryphal as were those of certain saints mentioned by Erasmus.
As a matter of fact, so far as I can make out after the perusal of a number of pamphlets on the subject, only half the bones of Columbus were taken to Havana. The priests at San Domingo kept back a portion of the body and hid it in the south of the sacristy of their Cathedral, where it was discovered with many evidences of its authenticity in 1877.
Of the other numerous Havanese churches there is not much to be said, except that nearly all have remarkable ceilings, decorated in a sort of mosaic work in rare woods, often very artistic in design. Columns of mahogany are frequently seen, and nearly all the churches are lined with very old Spanish or Dutch tiles. The Church of Santa Clara, attached to a very large nunnery, is a favourite place of devotion with the fashionable ladies, who squat on a piece of carpet in front of the Madonna, with their negro attendant kneeling a few feet behind them. When the lady has performed her devotions, the sable footman takes up her carpet, and follows her out of the church, walking solemnly a few feet behind her. In the Church of the Merced there is a very curious picture representing a group of Indians being slaughtered by a number of Spaniards. In the centre is a wooden cross, upon the transverse portions of which Our Lady is seated, holding the infant Jesus in her arms. In the corner is a long inscription of some historical importance. It runs thus:—
"The Admiral, Don Christopher Columbus, and the Spanish Army, being possessed of the 'Cerro de la Vega,' a place in the Spanish island, erected on it a cross, on whose right arm, the 2nd of May, 1492, in the night there appeared with her most precious Son, the Virgin, Our Lady of Mercy. The Indians, who occupied the island, as soon as they saw Her, drew their arrows, and fired at Her, but as the arrows could not pierce the sacred wood, the Spaniards took courage, and, falling upon the said Indians, killed a great number of them. And the person who saw this wonderful prodigy was the V. R. F. Juan."
The Jesuits have an important college for boys in Havana. Annexed to it is the Observatory, said to be the best organised in South America. The church is handsome, and over the high altar hangs a famous holy family, by Ribeira. In connection with this college there is also a museum and library, especially rich in drawings and prints, illustrating Cuban life and scenery, from the sixteenth century down to our own times.
The wooden images of saints on the altars in the Havanese churches are most picturesque, and their costumes often very quaint. St Michael, for instance, may appear in white kid dancing shoes and a short velvet frock, and the Madonna is usually attired in the cumbersome Spanish court dress of the sixteenth century; with farthingale and ruff complete.
A remarkably fine old church is San Francisco, long since desecrated and converted into the custom-house. It has a noble tower, and stands in a conspicuous position down by the harbour. In the suppressed monastery is a vast room with a glorious cedar-wood ceiling. San Francisco is famous in the annals of Havana for a triple murder, which took place upon its altar in 1833, before the Church was converted to profane purposes, and was still one of the most popular shrines in the city. Hard by is an old-world café—the Leon de Oro—which in those days was tenanted by an Italian with a pretty wife. The worthy man got jealous of her, and, finding out that her paramour was the Secretary of the Captain-General, Don Alonzo Vales y Sandoval—watched his opportunity to avenge himself. It chanced that the noble Don was ordered to watch by the Sepulchre in this church on Holy Thursday evening. Dressed, therefore, in his scarlet robes, as a member of the Confraternity of the Sacred Blood, the unlucky gentleman was apparently absorbed in prayer before the altar, when the infuriated Italian dealt him a blow in the back with a stiletto, which killed him there and then. Before the horrified congregation could arrest him, he murdered his wife, who was kneeling in prayer close by her lover, and then stabbed himself—all of which uncanny tragedy I found solemnly related in choice Spanish in an old Havana journal, dated June 17, 1833.
The numerous charitable institutions in the capital, and throughout the island, are well managed, and generally clean. The Casa de Beneficencia, founded by the famous Las Casas, as an asylum for the extremes of life, the very young and very old, is especially interesting. It is managed by those admirable women, the Little Sisters of the Poor. Nothing can exceed the exquisite cleanliness of the Lazar House, situated at some distance from the city, in which six nuns and two priests have banished themselves from the world in order to tend the many hapless lepers on the island.
But admirably managed, roomy, and well endowed though they undoubtedly are, the charitable establishments of Havana do not supply the demand, for the place swarms with beggars, especially in these recent hard times. Never, no, not even in Spain or Italy, have I seen such terrible beggars as those of Cuba. They haunt you everywhere, gathering round the church doors, whining for alms, insulting you if you refuse them, and pestering you as you go home at night, never leaving you till you either bestow money on them, or escape within your own or some friendly door.