I04 A YEAR IN BRAZIL. 



the ceremony went into the church to robe. They were 

 the priests of Sao Amaro (Padre Antonio), Olhos d'Agua 

 (Padre Francisco), and Lagoa Dourada (the latter place is 

 a league and a half off). Their vestments were cassock 

 and surplice ; he of Lagoa Dourada, who read the service, 

 had also a black stole. The service began in the chapelle 

 ardente, the family meanwhile unpacking and distributing 

 a large box of candles, some three feet long. The said 

 box I had seen arrive with the coffin, and leave the fazenda 

 on a nigger's head half an hour before we did. I had 

 endless trouble to keep my candle alight, as the wind blew 

 it out every moment. The preliminary part of the service 

 being over, the sons carried the coffin, which was then 

 closed, into the church, where it was placed in the centre 

 of the nave, and again opened, the feet being towards the 

 altar. I was in the midst of the family by the head of the 

 corpse, and after a time the odour became sickening, while 

 flies settled on the already discoloured face. The service 

 seemed to me interminable, with seven Paternosters at long 

 intervals, at each of which the priest sprinkled the body 

 with holy water. In the middle of the service, the priests 

 seemed affected by the smell, when one of them, pulling 

 out his snuff-box, took a big pinch, and handed it to the 

 two others, who did the same ! The coffin was then again 

 closed, only to be reopened when placed beside the grave, 

 which was in front of the altar, the excavated red earth 

 being piled up on the flags on each side. After a few 

 more prayers, the poor sons had to shut the lid for the last 

 time (without tying the ribbons) and lower it into its final 

 resting-place, when the top once more gaped open, and 

 every one in passing out threw earth literally on the dead 

 man's face ! The sons immediately regaled themselves 

 with a cigarette — hardly to be wondered at ; and I 



