HOLY-SATURDAY.
At seven o'clock in the morning of the "Sabado de Gloria," the "Saturday of Glory," as the Spaniards beautifully and expressively call this great day, I was already established in my usual place in the nave of the cathedral, though the religious ceremonies were not to commence until eight. The attendance of the public generally was less than on Maundy-Thursday and Good-Friday, and none of the superior authorities of Havana, nor military and civil functionaries, were present.
The new fire was lighted and blessed precisely as is done with us, and the five grains of incense placed on the paschal candle; which, however, was not a tall, thick taper, as in other countries, but a veritable pillar of wax, about a yard high and six inches in diameter; transmitting to us most probably an exact resemblance of that column of wax upon which the patriarch of Alexandria used to inscribe the paschal epoch and the movable feasts, and which in progress of time was employed as a torch during the paschal night, and at last came to be regarded as the symbol of the resuscitated Saviour, the true light of the world.
After reading the prophecies, the deacon, preceded by the holy cross and the paschal candle, and accompanied by the clergy and many of the faithful present, went in procession to bless the new water and the baptismal fonts. This ceremony also was performed exactly as it is with us. At its conclusion the deacon returned to the high altar, and after sprinkling it and the congregation with the newly-blessed water, the short mass of the day commenced.
Scarcely had the officiating priest begun to intone the Gloria, when the central door of the church burst open, letting in a flood of golden light; the cannon fired, the drums beat, the bells rang out, and the loud organ pealed forth a triumphant strain, while voices that seemed to come from heaven repeated high and clear, with delicious harmony, Gloria in excelsis Deo!
We all simultaneously fell on our knees; for myself, I can say that never in my life before had I experienced such rapturous emotion. Never before had I so perfectly realized the triumph of life over death! Never before, O my God! had I felt so deeply what it was to praise thee, to bless thee, to adore thee, to glorify thee with my whole heart. Gloria in excelsis Deo!
"God the Redeemer liveth! He who took
Man's nature on him, and in human shroud
Veiled his immortal glory! He is risen—
God the Redeemer liveth! And behold
The gates of life and immortality
Opened to all that breathe!"
The Alleluia was chanted in the same spirit of joy and exultation, and the services concluded.
Without the church all was now gayety and bustle. The streets were crowded as if by magic with vehicles of every description. The shops were all open; the sweetmeat and fruit-sellers at their posts, looking as if they had never been absent; the lottery-ticket venders in full cry. The horses and mules had their heads decorated with bows and rosettes and streamers of bright-colored ribbons, and their tails elegantly plaited and tied up to one side of their saddle or harness, with scarlet braid. Even the quiet, patient oxen sported a bit of finery, and wore flowers on the ponderous yoke that weighed down their gentle heads. Crowds of busy men hurried hither and thither; gayly-dressed ladies drove about in their stylish quitrins; loud talking and laughing was the order of the day among the colored population; a riff-raff of little blackies pervaded the city, happily without the squibs, crackers, and fire-arms permitted them until this year, but quite sufficiently boisterous to be intolerable; while the church-bells kept ringing out, adding their clang to the noisy confusion, and not with that merry musical chime we are accustomed to hear in England, the land of the scientific, well-trained bell-ringer. But, indeed, nowhere since I listened years ago to the bells of Saint Mary's in dear old smoky Manchester have I heard a regular triple bob-major!