The prelate had scarcely taken his seat under the dais, when the doors, opening wide again, gave entrance to the grandees, the municipality, and a number of military and civil functionaries. They were ushered to the places assigned to them by four mace-bearers, habited in the Spanish mace-bearing costume of three hundred years ago, and much resembling in general appearance the tremendous Queen Elizabeth's beef-eaters, who seemed to my childish eyes the most wonderful sight in the Tower of London. They wore loose red velvet tunics, trimmed with gold lace and fringe; the castles of Castile were embroidered on the breast, and the lions of Leon adorned the sleeves; an immense double ruff around the throat; big, high, black boots and buckskin small-clothes, and a wide-brimmed hat turned up on one side, with a red and yellow feather, completed the costume.
The military and civil officers were in full uniform, wearing their orders and decorations; the noblemen and gentlemen in evening dress, and displaying on their breasts numerous ribbons and brilliant stars. They were nearly all venerable-looking, gray-haired men, with that pensive, dignified gravity of demeanor peculiar to the Spaniard.
The religious ceremony now began. The palm-branches blessed were all curiously plaited and lopped, until they were but little more than a yard high, only two or three small leaves being left at the top. They were ornamented with bows of bright-colored ribbons, bunches of artificial flowers, and gold and silver tinsel butterflies. That intended for the prelate was covered with elegant gold devices and arabesques. Each of the grandees in turn ascended the steps of the altar, and, kneeling, received one from the bishop, whose hand he kissed, and then retired. When all had been distributed, the procession was formed; but I must confess that it disappointed me exceedingly. I had expected to see a grove of green, waving palms moving along amidst the hosannas of the multitude; but, as it was, all devotional and picturesque effect was totally wanting. I have since been told that in the poorer churches, which cannot afford to buy the plaited, lopped, and gilded sticks that the bad taste of the people prefer, the simple branch, so exquisitely graceful, is perforce adopted, and the procession, consequently, a very pretty sight.
In the cathedral, the whole ceremony was cold and unimposing. There was no summons from the outside, with response from within. There was no triumphal burst from the organ when the Victor over sin and death made his entry; no anthem to remind us how the chosen will be welcomed to heaven. The procession descended by the southern wing, and went out into the church porch, where the psalms appointed were sung; the great central door was then opened, and it returned up the nave to the altar.
The mass followed, and the bishop delivered a short sermon. His voice was very agreeable, and his manner impressive.
As soon as the service concluded, every one hastened away. There were no loiterers—not even to see the prelate leave the cathedral, which he did on foot, his violet silk train borne by one of the priests. It is, however, but just to remark—if excuse be needed for the haste with which the church was cleared—that it was twelve o'clock, and no one had breakfasted.
I was pleased to meet a friend at the door, who insisted on my going home with her, and I gratefully accepted the invitation; for I felt tired and faint. We accordingly got into her quitrin, and in a few minutes reached the welcome door.
The quitrin, the private conveyance of Cuba, and an improvement on the well-known volante, is a carriage somewhat resembling the victoria, but with two immense wheels; it is swung, too, so easily that a person not accustomed to the vehicle finds it difficult to enter. The shafts are exceedingly long, and the horse in them trots, while a second horse, upon which the calesero rides, canters. This second horse is attached to the carriage by long traces at the left side, and a little ahead of the shaft-horse. The effect produced by the different paces of the animals is very curious.
The calesero, or driver, is always a colored man; he is usually dressed in a blue jacket, (though green, yellow, and red are not unfrequent,) white drill waistcoat and trowsers, and high black leathern leggings, hollowed out under the knee and standing up stiff above it, resembling, in fact, the great boots worn by French postilions, minus the feet. These leggings are fastened down the sides with straps and silver buckles, and ornamented with large silver plates. No stockings, but low-cut shoes, leaving visible the naked instep, heavy silver spurs and a stove-pipe hat, and the calesero is considered an elegant turn-out.
The breakfast was waiting; a Creole one, composed of soup made of the water in which beef-bones, and especially beef knee-caps, had been boiled, flavored with onions fried in lard; of vaca frita—fried cow—little pieces of beef of all shapes, fried also in lard; of ropa vieja—old clothes—slices of cold meat warmed up with sauce; of aporeado—beef torn into shreds of an inch and a half long and stewed with a little tomato, green peppers, garlic, and onions, (this dish looks very like boiled twine;) of picadillo—meat minced as fine as possible and scrambled in eggs, chopped onions and peppers; of rice cooked with little pieces of fat pork and colored with saffron; of very nice pork-chops, the best meat in Cuba, and very different and far superior to Northern pork; of boiled yucca, and ripe plantains, very delicious to the taste, resembling in flavor a well-made apple charlotte. The bread was very good, and more baked than it usually is in the United States. Claret and water was the general beverage, and the meal finished with a cup of hot coffee enriched with creamy milk, boiled without the salt and aniseed that Creoles almost invariably put into it. We were waited on at table by two admirably-trained Chinese, a people much and justly esteemed in Havana as house-servants and cooks.