A few days subsequent to the death of the old servant, the remains of a little girl were borne past; the sight was so singular I think it worth describing.
Moving slowly and solemnly along the street were a number of men, habited in deep blue home-made cloth, the two foremost of whom carried a light iron bier, on which lay the body of a little girl, whose brief period of life numbered not more than five summers. A robe of soft, clear, snowy muslin enveloped the motionless form like a cloud; on the tiny feet, crossed in rest at last, were white silk stockings and white shoes; and her little hands, which must so lately have found gleeful employment in scattering the fragments of broken toys, were now meekly folded on her bosom over a bouquet of orange blossoms. A heavy wreath of the same flowers, mingled with a few leaves of the allegro campo, encircled her young brow, which, as may be supposed, wore that lovely, calm expression described by poets as the impress of "heaven's signet-ring."
In almost every one of the varied scenes of life orange blossoms are made use of in Madeira, either as types or emblems. Wreaths of them grace the bride's young head, as being emblematical of the beauty and purity of her character; as typical of a grief which shall be ever fresh, chaplets of them crown the pale brows of the dead. On the anniversary of a birth-day they are presented to the aged as an embodiment of the truth that they shall again renew their youth; while the proud triumphal arch is adorned with their snowy bells, as an assurance that the occasion for which it was erected shall be held in ever-enduring remembrance.
The little child on the rude bier, who looked as fair in her death-sleep as these fairest of flowers, was being carried to the cemetery belonging to the resident Roman Catholics, and known as Laranjeira. There a priest was awaiting its arrival. He was standing by the open grave, and when the body was laid at his feet he read over it in Latin a short burial service, placed some grains of dust on the pulseless bosom, and departed. Being carefully wrapped in a sere doth, it was then placed in a shallow grave (according to custom) and lightly covered with three or four inches of earth.
Laranjeira is situated on the west of the town. Passing up the Augustias Hill the stranger sees a large, handsome gate near the empress's hospital; this is the entrance to the graveyard. Inside is a small flower-garden, tastefully laid out and neatly kept, through which you pass to the broad stone steps leading to the fine gravel walk running quite through the cemetery. Another walk, also of considerable width, leads round it, while several narrower ones, shaded by hedges of geraniums, roses, and lavender, are cut through it in different directions. Inclosing the whole is a high wall, studded with monumental tablets, on some of which praise and grief are charactered in deep, newly-cut letters, while from many others time has either obliterated every trace of writing, or the pains and the heat have washed and bleached them into meaningless, cloudy white slabs. There are but few monuments or even tombstones of any pretension, though many of the latter bear English inscriptions. Rows of cypress trees border the centre walk, and almost every grave in the inclosure is overshadowed by a weeping willow.
CHAPTER IV.
It was the last week in Lent, and, according to our manner of computing time, it was eleven o'clock A.M. of the day known as "Holy Thursday." Reckoning, however, as the Madeirans do, it was the last hour of that day, and the next would be the first of Good Friday.
An unusual silence had reigned in the town since the first streaks of purple light appeared in the east, as if to render more remarkable the din which at the hour above-named assailed the ears of the inhabitants of Funchal. Strains of military music filled the air, mingled with the tolling of bells and the firing of guns, which found a hundred echoes in the adjoining hills. These sounds were the signals to the people of Madeira that the time was drawing near when the most imposing ceremonial of their religion would be celebrated. With the first trumpet-notes the streets began to fill, every house sending forth its inmates, whether rich or poor, old or young, either to witness or take part in the spectacles of the day. As on all like occasions, the peasantry, in their best attire, poured in with astonishing rapidity; while crowding in with them were ladies in hammocks, clad in robes of rainbow hues, and partially concealed from curious eyes by silken curtains of pink or blue, which were matched in color by the vests of the bearers, and the ribbons with long floating ends adorning their broad-brimmed straw hats; and gentlemen on horseback, whom you at once would recognize as natives by their short stature, their bright vests, neckties, and hat-ribbons, and their profusion of rich, showy ornaments. Quietly making their way on foot through this throng were the English merchants, with their wives and daughters, distinguished from those by whom they were surrounded by an air of severe reserve and a studied simplicity of dress. A few handsome wheeled carriages also appeared on the scene, and one or two of the awkward looking boi-cars. All were taking the same direction, the Praca da Constitutionel, and the common object was to gain admission to the cathedral. At every turn the crowd augmented, and even masquers joined in considerable numbers--but these latter brought neither jest nor laughter with their presence; the ceremonies of the day had subdued even them, causing them to abandon the vacant gaiety appertaining to their attire for a demeanor more fitting the time and occasion.
Arrived at the cathedral, each party, no matter how exalted their rank, encountered a delay in obtaining an entrance. The throng around the door was great, and it was in vain that the soldiers endeavored to keep the general crowd at a distance. Trained as the Madeirans are to habits of deference to both military and ecclesiastical authority, they become, like other people, audacious and headstrong when assembled in large multitudes, and, in spite of both church and state, they now sought an entrance by the exertion of physical force, and some hundreds succeeded.