His duties did not end in military, or administrative, or judicial service, for sometimes he had even to act as chaplain in cases of emergency, as the following instance { 61} will show. A day or two after they landed, Sergeant M'Gaw of the 42nd--who had gallantly won the Victoria Cross at Amoaful--took ill under the excessive heat and died. The regimental chaplain was not present, but Wauchope followed the funeral with his company, and at the grave, stepping forward as the body was about to be committed to the dust, feelingly addressed his men in a few appropriate words of exhortation, and concluded, to the surprise and gratification of all, with an earnest extempore prayer. Tears, we are told by one who witnessed the occurrence, were in the eyes of many a stalwart soldier that day, and the incident made a deep impression at the time and was never forgotten by them. A sequel to Sergeant M'Gaw's funeral may here be mentioned as another instance of Wauchope's thoughtful care. Some time afterwards it was discovered that the Cypriote farmer on whose land the sergeant was buried, had removed the little wooden head-mark, and not unnaturally ploughed up the land and destroyed all trace of the grave. The Government was asked to take action, but declined to interfere. So Wauchope and some others went on a moonlight night, and after taking measurements from a certain tree, discovered the grave, dug up the remains, removed them to Kyrenia, and placed them in what is now known as the Black Watch cemetery. A pure white marble sarcophagus now covers Sergeant M'Gaw's grave.
After the long reign of Turkish misrule it will be easily understood that Commissioner Wauchope and his colleague Lieutenant Duff did not all at once find things easy. On the contrary, they found it very hard work. The rascality of the natives was as idyllic as innocence. Murder and theft were so common that they were scarcely considered culpable, and this in what has been called an { 62} 'enchanted island,' full of every beauty to satisfy the eye, and every fruit to satisfy the taste. Even ten years after the occupation by the British, and notwithstanding all our efforts to restore order and justice, W. H. Mallock, describing his visit to Cyprus in 1888, says that 'he found there more crime in proportion to the population than in any other known country in the world.' In Nicosia the prisons were full of persons, male and female, confined for murder, theft, etc. 'In the country districts,' he says, 'the cause of murders has generally some connection with sheep-stealing or disputes about boundaries and water rights, or matters equally simple. In the towns the Turkish murders nearly always originate in some ordinary fit of sombre but sudden passion, and the Greek murders in some half-drunken brawl. Curiously enough, a number of these last take place at weddings. Wine has flowed; quarrelling has arisen out of laughter; knives have flashed, and in a second or two one knife has been red with blood. Yet amid so much crime there exists among this degraded people a whimsical simplicity almost justifying a smile.' One instance, as given by Mr. Mallock, will suffice to illustrate this. One of three men implicated in a murder fled to the hut of a shepherd, and begged to be kept there in hiding. The shepherd, who had only a slight acquaintance with the man, asked why he wished to be hidden. On this the murderer, more like a child than a man, explained everything in the most naïve manner possible. The shepherd looked grave. He said that this was a serious matter, and that under the circumstances his protection would have to be paid for. The murderer replied that the booty had not yet been divided; 'I have no money,' he said, 'but save me and I will steal a sheep for you!'