The rest of the history of the town is a repetition of that of Havana, a series of sieges by pirates and buccaneers. In 1662 it was attacked by Lord Windsor, and bombarded by a squadron of fifteen vessels. The English landed, destroyed the Morro Fort, blew up the Cathedral, and otherwise behaved themselves more like Pagans than Christians.
On Palm Sunday morning, we went to the Cathedral to see the great function of the blessing of the palms. The church is very large--the largest in the island--and built in the usual Hispano-American style, with a squat dome in the middle, and two rather fine towers on each side of the façade. The nave is of unusual width, and the side chapels, of which there are a great number, are full of rare marbles, and splendid mahogany woodwork. The stalls in the magnificent choir and the seats throughout the church are all made of solid deep red mahogany; the edifice otherwise presents nothing of interest, excepting the priestly vestments, very fine specimens of old Spanish needlework. We found the church packed, most of the ladies being in deep mourning, but in low-necked dresses, which, at so early an hour, produced a startling effect. It afforded us an opportunity for a most interesting study of feminine shoulders, varying in tint from the snowy white of the Creola, to the dainty olive of the mulatress, and the ebony black of the ladies who originally hailed from the Congo. The stately ceremonies, on this solemn occasion, were exactly the same as those in all other Catholic churches throughout the world. The priests, however, carried some very fine palm branches, their long fronds tipped with gold tinsel. In the afternoon there was a sermon preached by a fiery little Capuchin monk, who banged his hands on the edge of the pulpit with such force that I am sure they must have been black and blue by the time he had finished.
In the evening we went for a long drive through some of the most beautiful scenery I have ever seen. On the following day there was not much in the way of sacred pageantry. On Holy Thursday the whole town turned out in deep mourning to visit the Sepulchre in the Churches. Meanwhile the opera house, the theatres, and all other places of public amusement were hermetically closed, and Santiago did not present a very lively appearance, but as we had plenty to see in the neighbourhood, this did not trouble us much. The Good Friday procession was well worth seeing. It was a miniature edition of the procession which takes place in Seville, and was of interminable length. All the confraternities took part in it. At intervals, life-sized groups made in carved wood, representing episodes in Our Lord's Passion, were carried on the shoulders of ten or a dozen negroes. Then came the image of Our Lady of Sorrows, dressed in the full Court costume of the sixteenth century, made of cloth of silver, with a mantle of the richest purple velvet. This was followed by the Archbishop and his clergy, and the grandees of the place, wearing their decorations, officers in uniform, and gentlemen in evening dress. The effect of the procession winding through the narrow streets was extremely picturesque, and it was received on all sides with profound respect, for the people of Santiago are the most orthodox on the island, and also, by-the-way, the most intelligent and the best-looking. Their good looks are said to be due to their numerous inter-marriages with French women, daughters of emigrants from San Domingo, who made their appearance here at the end of the last century. Many of the ladies of Santiago are quite beautiful, and would be much more so if they did not plaster their faces with cascaria powder to such an extent that many of them make themselves look like female clowns.