As it had been so long since an Emperor had died, special Shinto services had to be arranged. The funeral was at night. The music was very weird and sad, and the wheels of the funeral car, which was drawn by oxen, were made to creak as they ran along, as if writhing and crying in agony for the loss of the Great Emperor they were bearing to his resting-place.
High officials, officers, and priests, in old ceremonial costumes or modern uniforms, were in the procession, and the brightly decorated avenue, lined with soldiers and crowded with onlookers, made a weird picture in the flashing lights—one never to be forgotten, I should imagine, by those who were fortunate enough to witness it. After passing in this fashion through the streets of Tokyo the body was put on the train and conveyed to Kyoto, where the procession was resumed to the tomb.
Of its reception in Kyoto, Terry, author of "The Japanese Empire," says: "To the distant crashing and the reverberating roar of minute-guns; the wailing of bugles and the booming of gigantic temple bells; to the sound of the wild minstrelsy of priests and bonzes, the pattering of a weeping, drenching rain and the sighing of a vast concourse of mourning people ... the mortal remains of Mutsuhito ... were laid tenderly in their last resting place."
A poem written by the late Emperor and translated by Dr. Bryan has recently been published. It is called "My People," and although so short is rather impressive.
"Whether it rain or shine,
I have only one care:
The burden of this heart of mine
Is how my people fare!"
Kyoto, sometimes called Saikyo, was the ancient capital, where the shoguns and mikados used to reside in the early days. It is a city of temples, where nothing under three hundred years is counted old, and although typically Japanese it seems somehow different from other cities. The tiny houses and narrow streets appear tinier and narrower here than elsewhere.
The hills to the east of the city are covered with old shrines and buildings, and the woods are full of temples, too. In the Chionin Temple, founded some seven hundred years ago, may be seen an umbrella left among the rafters of the roof by the master-builder during its erection. Tradition insists that it flew thither out of the hands of a boy whose shape had been assumed by the guardian deity of the temple, but the other explanation, while less romantic, seems more probable. Near this temple, on a small elevation among the trees, stands the Great Bell, the largest in the country. Not far away are many other interesting things, among them the Dai Butsu—the Great Buddha. There are also some sacred springs, a curious temple on stilts, and innumerable lanterns.
The two most important temples are the Eastern and the Western Hongwanji, which belong to the most powerful Buddhist sect. We went through the latter, which had some excellent paintings. The garden and houses belonging to this temple, which are six hundred years old, were built by Hideyoshi, the famous "clever boy," who from nothing at all became shogun. The Eastern temple is described in the chapter dealing with religions.
