Men bore the coffin on their shoulders, and on the coffin lay the dead man's sword, crowned with garlands, and his shako pierced with a bullet-hole.

Leading the procession marched a student chorus singing a dirge, while weeping women brought up the rear.

When the family vault was reached, the seven brothers of the deceased took the coffin and laid it in the niche prepared to receive it; then they rolled a great stone before the opening, came out of the vault, and kissed one another.
After that a plain villager, an old and gray-haired man, mounted a stone pulpit and addressed the assembly, telling them who it was they were burying, how he had lived, how he had been loved, and in what manner he had come to his end.

The speaker closed with the hope that the memory of the departed might last as long as there were dwellers in the valley to speak his name.

The pastor then blessed the grave and pronounced a benediction on the company before him.