I had, however, to bear and forbear with my unpleasant neighbors, whose propinquity induced a train of thoughts somewhat at variance with the solemnity I had come to witness. I remembered, among other discrepant subjects, the nickname given to the Spaniards by the Cubans, _Patones_--"Big-Feet"--which appellation has frequently been used in skirmishes between the insurgents and the Spanish troops as a battle-cry. _Viva Cuba, y mueren los Patones!_ "Long live Cuba, and death to the Big-Feet!" the rebels would shout, and the soldiers, very naturally enraged at a personal defect being alluded to in such terms, would fight like insulted heroes. So I improved this opportunity, having a long row of Spaniards before me, to examine their lower extremities and judge for myself what truth there was in the discourteous designation. After a careful and impartial investigation, I believe that I can say with justice that, though they do not possess the exquisitely-formed, fairy-like little feet with which every Cuban, male and female, trips into this world, they yet cannot be accused of having large or clumsy ones. Most of the Spanish feet I saw were certainly much smaller than those of the English or Germans, resembling, perhaps, those of the French.
The toilettes of the ladies were even more ball-like than on Palm-Sunday; nearly every one wore low-necked dresses and short sleeves, and many white kid gloves. Rose-colored, pale blue, yellow, and white silk robes trimmed with lace and a multitude of bows, and sometimes disfigured by preposterous _paniers_, were general. The hair was artistically dressed and adorned with flowers, golden fillets, and bright ribbons, and the white or black lace mantilla thrown over the head was as small and transparent as possible.
At a quarter past eight, the bishop arrived with a numerous suite of clergy: as on Sunday, it was with difficulty he made his way through the sitting, kneeling, becrinolined, and betrained crowd that encumbered the centre of the church.
Very shortly after, a flourish of trumpets outside announced the coming of the captain-general. The great door was again thrown open, and he entered, preceded by the mace-bearers, and attended by Señor Don Dionisio Lopez Roberts, superior political governor of Havana, and a brilliant _cortége_ of noblemen, gentlemen, and military and civil chiefs. When all were seated, the scene as viewed from my bench was very striking. The resplendent sepulchre; the illuminated altar, at which the mitred prelate and his assistant priests were officiating, all robed in white and gold; the long row of handsome uniforms on each side of the nave; the gay _parterre_ of fair ladies, and the crowd of spectators of every shade of color from white to black that filled the spaces between the massive pillars and served as a background, all contributed to form a whole most picturesque and unique.