“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 cortege 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.