Another ceremony of a very different character at which I was soon afterwards present, was the Shinto funeral of His Imperial Highness Prince Arizugawa, uncle to the present Emperor. There is a most remarkable custom in Japan--that any person of Royal blood who dies away from home must have his death concealed until his body can be removed to his own palace. On this occasion, for several days after the Prince’s death was an open secret, official bulletins were issued describing his condition as very critical. On the arrival of the coffin at the Imperial Palace in Tokio, however, his death was publicly announced to have taken place--quite a week later than was really the case.
By an early hour the streets of Tokio were thronged with an expectant crowd, all in their best attire--a picturesque gathering, very different from our sober-coloured crowd in England. Death to a Japanese does not inspire the same dread and awe with which we are accustomed to associate it.
The day was all one could desire--one of those brilliant frosty days which make the winter of Japan so delightful. The funeral procession left the palace about 9 a.m., preceded by a large number of mounted troops; and the roads were lined by the infantry to keep back the crowd. Not wishing to follow the procession at a foot-pace for over two hours--the Imperial burial-ground being nearly five miles from the Prince’s palace--my father and I started an hour later and, driving by a shortcut, reached our destination in good time. Only those having tickets were admitted into the Temple grounds, but there was a very large gathering--almost every nation being represented. The gay uniforms of the Japanese Officials, Admirals, and Generals; the entire Corps Diplomatique, Consuls from Yokohama, the officers from the Russian and German men-of-war, and the Chinese and Koreans in their quaint dress, all formed a brilliant gathering, standing out against the dark background of the great cryptomeria trees.
Several ladies were present, all in deep mourning; among them we noticed two of the Royal Princesses. Refreshments were provided in a small Japanese house in the grounds; and the hot coffee and sandwiches seemed much appreciated by many who had come up by an early train from Yokohama that morning. As the faint notes of the bugle announced the approach of the procession, we all formed into a long line near the entrance-gate.
The priests walked first, arrayed in white silk kimonos, with curious erections of stiff black silk on their heads, somewhat resembling the helmet of Britannia. Then followed the choir, playing a weird incantation on their curious instruments. As I have said before, those who have not heard Japanese music can hardly realize how utterly unlike it is to the music of the West. Harmony it has none, and the wailing, dirge-like sounds are somewhat trying to the uninitiated. Notwithstanding, I noticed a solemn dignity in the mournful strains which had never struck me before.
Great numbers of wreaths, also enormous erections of artificial and natural flowers in bamboo stands, were carried by men in white cloaks. Some of these offerings were over twelve feet in height and required two men to carry them. These were followed by the late Prince’s servants, his horses, then more priests--one carrying on a wooden stand a pair of shoes for the use of the departed spirit on its journey to Paradise or Hades, as the case might be. Then came the coffin, enclosed in a plain white wood sarcophagus, from which appeared a piece of the sleeve of the dead Prince’s kimono, which, I must own, produced a most uncanny effect.
A Shinto corpse is always buried in a sitting position, fully dressed, with head bent to the knees in attitude of prayer. The coffin was carried by a dozen men, all in white and bare-headed. Young Prince Arizugawa followed immediately after his father’s coffin. He was in old Court dress--a petticoat of black silk, very full, giving the appearance of a divided skirt and a white silk kimono. He carried a long, narrow piece of wood, which he held in front of him, on which, doubtless, were inscribed prayers. His head-dress was somewhat similar to that worn by the priests, but at the back of the head was fastened a large black wire hoop covered with silk. In appearance the Prince is a small man, even for a Japanese, but very dignified in manner, with a clever, rather sad face. The ceremony must have been a trying one for him, as he marched on foot in the centre of the procession from one end of Tokio to the other, and the Shinto funeral rites, as far as the immediate relatives of the dead are concerned, compelled them to remain by the coffin until after sunset.
Princess Arizugawa, the Empress’s messenger and the late Prince’s mother were also in old Japanese Court dress--enormous trousers of bright-red material and white silk kimonos. Their hair was dressed in the most fantastic style, part of it standing out on either side of the head in stiff wings, the back view of the head resembling a heart in shape, the rest of the hair falling loosely down the back. The poor little ladies seemed to experience some difficulty in walking in their high clogs and stiff trousers. I imagine they must prefer even European dress to this quaint, but unpractical style.
After waiting about an hour, while the coffin and floral offerings were being arranged, we were conducted to the other end of the Temple grounds, where a temporary altar had been erected. The priests, who were eight in number, after clapping their hands before the altar to call the attention of the gods and bowing to the ground repeatedly, chanted several long prayers, and the choir again began its dirge-like wailing. Then the priests in turn placed a small white wooden stand in front of the altar-steps, on each of which was a dish containing different sorts of food. First, two fish were presented, then a pair of wild duck, game, meat, rice, bread, fruits, and lastly, a bottle of saké. Food is always offered at a Shinto funeral for use of the spirit of the departed, who is supposed to travel for fifty days before his fate is finally decided by the gods; and during that period prayers are incessantly offered up by the priests and the family of the deceased until the fiftieth day, when judgment is supposed to be pronounced as to his future state.
Before leaving, each guest in turn, beginning with the messengers of the Emperor and Empress, placed before the coffin a small branch of a tree, from which hung strips of white paper cut into little angular bunches, intended to represent the offerings of cloth which in ancient days were tied to the branches of the ‘cleyera’ tree in festival time. When our turn came, over a hundred branches had been presented, and, on leaving, we passed a large crowd with their offerings in their hands. The whole ceremony was exceedingly simple. Indeed, the chief characteristic of the Shinto religion is its simplicity; and ‘to follow the dictates of your own conscience and to obey the Mikado’ embraces the whole of its religious teaching. The present religion of the country is Shinto, but many of the Buddhist ceremonies have become mingled with it, although each religion has its distinctive marks.