"Years ago, when I was quite a young man, I was appointed chaplain to
H.M.S. _Octopus_, then on guard at Gibraltar. We had a very nice time
of it, for 'Gib.' is a very gay place, and that winter there was
plenty of fun somewhere nearly every night, and we were asked to most
of the festivities. Now, on board the Octopus was a young midshipman,
whom I will call Munro. He was a handsome young fellow, but rather
delicate, and he had been sent to Gibraltar for the sake of the
climate, in hopes that the sea-air and warm winter might set him up.
He was the life of the ship, and wherever he went he was popular; and
it is possible he might have outgrown his weakness, for I don't think
there was any organic disease at this time, but he got a low fever,
and died in a week. This low fever was very prevalent, and at the
same time that poor young Munro died, an admiral, one of the leading
members of society at 'Gib.,' died of the same disease. As it was
considered infectious, the two bodies were placed in their coffins
and carried to the mortuary till the funeral. Oddly enough, both
funerals were fixed for the same day; Munro's in the morning, and the
admiral's in the afternoon. The admiral's was to be a very grand
affair, all the troops in the garrison were to follow, as well as the
naval officers and sailors on board the guardships; the ceremony was
to be performed by the bishop, assisted by some other clergy while as
for poor Munro, I was to bury him at ten o'clock in the morning, six
men were told off to carry the coffin, and it was left to those who
liked to act as mourners.
"Well, the day of the funerals arrived, all the ships were decked
with flags half-mast high in honour of the admiral, minute-guns were
fired in honour of the admiral, church bells tolled in honour of the
admiral, while as for poor Munro (one or two of us excepted), no one
thought of him. Ten o'clock came, and I with the doctor and ore of
Munro's comrades, another middy, and the six sailors, who, by the
way, had all volunteered their services, set out for the mortuary; I
had a fancy to follow the poor fellow as far as I could, so I waited
while the jack tars went inside and fetched out the coffin covered
with the union-jack, and Munro's hat and sword on the top, and then
the little procession took its way across the neutral ground to the
English cemetery. I followed the coffin, and the other two brought up
the rear. The sentries did not salute us as we passed them. At last
we reached the cemetery gates. Here I was obliged to relegate my post
of chief mourner to the doctor, while I went into the chapel, put on
my surplice, and went to the door to meet the body. I then proceeded
to bury the poor boy, and when the union-jack was taken off and the
coffin lowered into the grave, I leant over to take one last look;
the doctor did the same, and as our eyes met the same emotion caused
us both to blow our noses violently, and it was in a voice of
suppressed emotion that I concluded the service.
"I was so disgusted with the way in which the poor boy had been
slighted that I had not intended going to the admiral's funeral; but
after burying Munro I felt more charitably disposed, so I got into my
uniform and duly attended the admiral's obsequies.
"It was a very grand affair indeed; the streets were thronged with
spectators, every window was filled with eager faces as the enormous
procession passed by. There were five regiments stationed in
Gibraltar at the time, and two men-of-war besides the _Octopus_ lying
in the harbour; detachments from every regiment were sent, three
military bands followed, a battery of artillery, the marines and all
the jack tars in the place, the governor and his staff were there,
and every officer, who was not on the sick list, quartered in
Gibraltar, was present. A firing party was told off to fire over the
grave when all was over, and this brilliant procession was met at the
cemetery-gates by the bishop, attended by several clergymen and a
surpliced choir. I forgot to say that a string of carriages followed
the troops, and the entire procession could not have been much less
than a mile long.
"As we crossed the neutral ground this time, the sentry, with arms
reversed, saluted us; and the strains of Beethoven's 'Funeral March
of a Hero,' must have been heard all over Gibraltar as the three
bands--one in front, one in the rear, and one in the centre--all
pealed it forth.
"Of course, not one-third of the funeral _cortège_ could get near the
grave; but I managed to get pretty close. The service proceeded, and
at length the coffin was uncovered to be lowered into the grave; it
was smothered with flowers, but the wreaths were all carefully
removed, and the admiral's cocked-hat and sword, and then the
union-jack was off, and the bishop, the governor, and all the
officers near the grave pressed forward to look at the coffin.
"They looked once, they started; they looked again, they frowned;
they rubbed their eyes; they looked again, then they whispered; they
sniffed, they snorted, they grumbled; they gave hurried orders to
the sextons, who shovelled some earth on to the coffin, and the
bishop hurriedly finished the service.
"What do you think they saw when they looked into the grave?
"Why, poor Munro's coffin! I buried the admiral myself in the
morning, by mistake. The doctor and I found it out at the grave, but
we kept our own counsel."--_Young England_.