The morning news. [volume] (Savannah, Ga.) 1887-1900, 1896-01-12
EVICTION OF THE DEAD.
4 Strange Cemetery and Its Grue-
some Eviction and Pos

ADAu the New 10TH ED-l-
Barcelona, Dee. "a cemetery more
strange than that OF Barcelona I have
never seen Il lies beyond wild-tomatO
fields, a lugubriOus note upon a sunny
landscape, just on The edge OF the hand
some new town. Nothing could have
been more brilliant than this scene one
lovely June afternoon as I walked across
these tangled fields. the green almost yell
low on the req earth. the mountains
radiantly sharp against the sky, a violet
mass upon the sapphire ground. and.
stretching 10 the further limits OF the
horizon. the sparkling sea shot with pulls
ing spots Of gold. The high walls OF the
cemetery made an Inappropriate gloom in
the glowing hour.
/ was totally unprepared for the ex-
IRENE strangeness. Of the place. Church
yard IL cannot be called. for it is liter
ally little city Of the dead, OF unwOnt-
ca impresslveness-a town which IS
town. where one might picture the dead
az night wandering at ease among their
alleys, peopling their empty piazas-their
shades gliding in and out the high-Walled
streets. For the dead here are not laid
under ground In tOmbs. The cemetery
IS cut into high narrow streets ana
squares, brilliantly eulivened with flow
ers and shrubs and fountains that play
as they play elsewhere upon the public
place. The streets are known by their
numbers. as In New York. The address
OF the dead Is Seventh street or Eleventh
street, and, in the case OF the wealthy,
eternal repOse has its special distinc-
ton These have their separate mausol-
Gums TO replace the palaces OF life along
/ the four sides of the upper handsome
square, where willows and cypress, ole
anders and roses abound.
But interest and novelty, II not beauty,
lie below among the dark high streets.
OF narrow arched vaults runs from end
to end, one superimpOsed on the other,
much on the system of flats, each HAT
here being composed OF a single chamber
bearing a Semi-ciTcuar marble slab on
which is written, THE property OF So
and-SO." No fulsome epitaDh, no genial
blunders of bereavement no taking the
public into the bereaved ones confidence,
no domestic legend-in prose or verse
simply the name of the rent payer or pur-
chaser engraven on a slab. These uniform
white slabs with their black letters seal
Top most oddly the monOtOnous gray
streets The over ground vaults, one uD-
on the other to the number of seven, ma
contain one or many collins. But the rest
ing places Of the dead are only respected
as long as the rent is punctually paid
| by the living. This of course only con-
Germs the poor for people of moderate
means naturally purchase the vault as
a property, while the poor do their best
10 meet the yearly rent.
The last honors to the poor are ever In
glorious. Ceremony and solemnity make
way Tor haste and indifference; but I
nave never seen irreverence so marked,
Indifference so brutally naked, as on that
June afternoon when / watched the burial
of a poor young man of about 49, And IL
was preceded by quite the most shocking
spectacle the most morbid and gruesome
imagination could devise Even Poe after
his thirteen bottles Of stout, could supply
nothlng more darkly revolving for the
wonder of mankind. This was an evic-
ton of the dead. A couple of cynical
grave-diggers, smoking the eternal cigar
cite of Spain, worked in a leisurely way.
between spells of gossip, at a marble slab
which they neatly removed from the wall,
leaving the, aperture Of the arch free and
revealing the dusty mouth of the vault.
The edge of a coffin was visible. This they
at once drew out, dragging the top with
their hands inserted between the rotten
lid and the worm-eaten side. The rough
movement of their hands jerked the lid
backward and the coffin came out with its
contents.
A gray-haired man in black was seen
under faint blush haze, something like
the MIN we see on cheese in a very adj
Vanced condition. Il was very terrible
to behold, but there was worse to come
This was cailously flung into a harrow,
and then the lid was pitched in over IL,
falling eross-wise; Next a babys white
satin coffin was dragged forth but that.
thank Godl was not opened The ruff
ans had the grace to spare the little form
within. Some instinct perhaps told them
that a child was not the thing to see
without an insufferable pang in any stage
| of decomposition Next a coffin was
hauled out of which the lid had evidently
resolved itself to dust The stencil was
| sight was still more horrible. The de-
| cayed box contained the corpse of a Wo-
man in a blue silk dress. The blush haze
| over the blurred features was thicker, and
| It was diffused over the whole body. Moth
| ing of age or appearance was discoverable
| Nothing remained intact but the black hair
head, and might in life have served as
| a pillow from very thickness. AS the
! diggers flung this rotten case on
| the ground just at my feet, I saw that
| the end of the coffin had worn away
| and two black satin boots with the same
blue-gray haze upon them, dangled from
| the skeleton feet that had shrunk within
| them. The sudden jerk whisked one foot
1 off at the ankle and it fell within an inch
i of me. This sight. imagine. was great
deal worse than that which sent St
| Francis Borgia into the arms of religion
| To see our beloved dead thus ruthlessly
detiled and degraded by time would be
| a greater shock than reason could with
stand. This is dread thought cremation
| spares us.
AS leaned against pillar of the oppo-
| site plaza, sick from sight and smell,
/ heard the thin tinkle of a handbell anC
knew then that the eviction had taker
/ place for another corpse. decided to pull
my forces together and witness the Ger
emony of possession after that of dispos.
session. A priest and three mourners
| smoking cigars, came along the square
| preceded by two acolytes, and between
| broad tinsel bands. The cortege dropped
| into the mouth of the street l had just
| left l followed. The general air was cas-
ual and unconcerned. The man in black
/ the woman in blue silk, and the little
white coffin lay still on the barrow and the
! grave-diggers stood by with a fresh slat
| to fix into the arch when they had slid in
| the new conner. The priest blew puff OF
! smoke into the air, expeetorated and Their
mumbed a little Latin. The three mourn.
| ers stood round with their hats in theil
/ hands, smoking and splitting without any
4 suggestion of regret or Awe. Then the
| priest lifted the lid of the coffin and said
| "A young man of twenty-three died yes.
/ terday evening of consumption" The
/ corpse was dressed in everyday clothes
/ a token of poverty, coarse gray trousers
! black coat brown cap, and brown cloth
! shoes, and blue silk scarf tied carefully
! Dead only yesterday evening, within TWEEN
/ ty-four hours already a thing to shuddei
| at! The padre callously closed the lid, the
! grave-diggers slipped in the fastenings
! shouldered the poor black case with Its
| tawdry tinsel, and placing the edge in the
| opening of the vault. ran it in with a Wig
| orous shove, and then took up the marble
slab. In unconcerned talk the padre, the
mourners, and the acolytes turned on their
| heels, and the poor young man of twenty
| three entered his last dwelling unwept, ia
| lie there until such time as neglect should
| force his remains forth, evicted.
The Irish Rain.