CHAPTER XII.

CEREMONIES FOR THE DYING AND THE DEAD.

Death is essentially awe-inspiring and mysterious, and in the case of a people whose lives, from the cradle upwards, are lived in an atmosphere of superstition, it is only to be expected that the ceremonies for the dead should be duly and respectfully performed.

When a person is at the point of death, those by the bedside endeavour to fix the thoughts of the dying one upon the "Great Teacher," whose words are their hope and guide at such a time. Loudly and rapidly, at least eight or ten times a minute, the watchers exclaim, "Pra Arahang, Pra Arahang," this being one of the many names of the last Buddha. With the mind dwelling upon the precepts of the ancient sage, the sick one passes from this world of men, and the body lies stiff in death. Still the cry goes forth, louder and more rapidly than before, "Pra Arahang, Pra Arahang," so that the departed soul may not forget the teacher as it takes its flight into another world. The cry ceases not until the spirit has passed so far away that all hope of it hearing the voices of earthly relatives must be abandoned. Then loud wailing, the natural world-wide expression of uncontrollable grief, is heard all over the house. Even the visitors, the domestics, the slaves and others who might not be supposed to be so deeply affected by the loss of the one who has passed away, join in the mournful chorus, as a fitting way of showing their respect for the dead. If the person is of high rank the body is bathed with great ceremony. The king himself comes to the bedside to pour water over the corpse. Other princes follow his example, after whom come the nobles present, according to their rank. The corpse is dressed in pantaloons and a tight-fitting jacket, wrapped in a winding-sheet and placed in a sitting posture in a copper urn. A tube is placed in the mouth, and a mixture of quicksilver and honey poured into the body. The copper urn, which has a grating at the bottom, is next placed inside a golden urn richly studded with precious stones. At the bottom of this urn there is a stop-cock through which the products of decomposition are drained away day by day, in the interval that elapses between the death and the cremation of the body. As the urn is placed on a high pedestal a loud blast is blown upon the trumpets, the ancient conch shell is sounded, the wailing of relatives and friends bursts out afresh, and the band plays sorrowfully a weird funeral dirge. This noisy demonstration is known as "the invitation to the corpse to sit upon the platform." All the insignia of office belonging to the deceased are arranged at the foot of the urn, together with those articles he has continually used in his daily life, such as his cigar case, his golden betel-nut box, his spittoon, his jewellery, and his writing materials. At dawn, at noon, and again at early evening, the women relatives and domestics gather round the base of the pedestal to indulge in loud and tearful moans. In the intervals between these demonstrations of sorrow, the priests occupy the room, chanting the prayers for the dead and other stanzas from their religious texts appropriate to the occasion. The remains are kept for a long time, sometimes for several years before they are burned.

All people are not cremated. If a man has committed suicide, or died a sudden death, as by lightning, cholera, or small-pox, he is held to be deficient in "merit" and not worth burning. Such people are buried. It may here be noticed how little wood is really required to burn a body. About two armfuls of fuel will reduce a corpse to ashes.

Upon the death of a king, it is the duty of his successor to make preparations for the cremation. The royal burnings take place on an open piece of ground in front of the Royal Palace in Bangkok, called the "Pramane Ground." The word "Pramane" is the name of the structure erected for the ceremony. A square is marked out on the ground, with its sides about forty feet long. At the angles of the square are placed four huge pillars of teak about two hundred feet long. These pillars must be straight, of the finest timber to be found in the kingdom, and must never have been used in any previous ceremony. They lean towards each other at the top, forming a truncated pyramid, and support a pyramidal structure which ends in a tall tapering spire and is profusely decorated with gold-leaf and tinsel. A large fence of newly cut bamboo is erected to enclose the central erection--the pramane. In three sides of the fence, gates are placed midway. Inside the fence there are a number of temporary buildings, one for the priests, one for the king and royal family, and another for specially invited visitors. The king's pavilion is easily distinguishable from the rest by its wealth of crimson drapery and cloth of gold. The floor of the enclosure is covered with a carpet of split bamboos, which has been specially made for the occasion and may never again be used for a similar purpose. At many points in the fence, royal seven-tiered umbrellas of cloth of gold reflect the powerful sunlight with dazzling brilliancy. Outside the enclosure another set of buildings is provided for the use of the officials, while over the rest of the ground are scattered theatres, puppet-shows, shadow plays and other forms of amusement. Under the central pagoda is a royal throne richly draped, and an eight-sided pyramid which rests upon a firm platform. From the centre of the roof hangs a circular awning, from which long strips of crape, white silk, and cloth of gold are carried to the four corners of the pramane. The eight-sided pyramid is the resting-place of the urn, and has a special canopy of cloth of gold. Floral wreaths and other decorations, made with marvellous skill and taste, are displayed in every available spot, while bits of glass and porcelain adorn the pillars and reflect the light of the sun by day, and of the torches and lamps by night. After sunset a general illumination of the whole place occurs. It is produced by thousands of torches, oil lamps and Chinese lanterns.

At dawn, on the first day of the celebration of the funeral rites, the corpse is taken in a car to the scene of the ceremonies. The first carriage in the sad procession is occupied by the high priest. As it moves slowly along, he reads from the Buddhist scriptures the passages on death, and fixes his thoughts upon the fleeting nature of this earthly life. The second carriage contains the favourite children of the deceased monarch, while the third is the funeral car. The high priest holds in his hands, pressed closely against the sacred book, one end of a long strip of silver ribbon. The ribbon is carried backwards, passes through the hands of the children, and is fastened at the other end to the golden urn which contains the remains. As the priest reads, holy influences pass from the sacred words through the ribbon to the living bodies of the children and the dead body of their royal father. Other carriages follow the funeral car, one of which contains sticks of fragrant wood, with gilded ends--the fuel for the burning. Another is filled with representations of fabulous animals made in bamboo and covered with tinsel. The head and tail of the funeral procession are formed by the white-robed Brahmins in their usual conical hats. The throbbing of the death-drums falls upon the ear with a dull regular boom, boom, boom.

On arriving at the Pramane, the urn is placed upon the pagoda, there to remain for seven days. The silver ribbon is fastened in the middle to the urn, and at the ends to the east and west sides of the room, thus indicating the path traversed by the sun in his daily round, and symbolising the life of man in its passage from the cradle to the grave. The priests assemble in great numbers to recite stanzas bearing upon life and death, and upon the mysteries of Nirvana and the hereafter. When their recitations are finished, they sit for a little while, with bent heads, in silent meditation upon the things they have spoken. They retire for a time, but return a few hours later to repeat their solemn chants.

The mourning colour is white, and every subject must wear it when the sovereign dies. Unfortunately black is being gradually substituted for white. It is a very hot and ugly colour to wear in a tropical land. Every subject must also shave completely the hair of his head, and keep his head in this condition of baldness as long as the Court may command.

Thousands of priests are on such occasions fed, and presented with new robes, and books, and a crowd of miscellaneous articles, such as clocks, boxes of cigars, trays of betel-nut, and umbrellas.

Here and there on the Pramane Ground are placed the "trees that gratify the desires of men." They have no likeness to any tree at all, but are hollow wicker baskets on the ends of long poles. Tied to the "branches" are a number of fresh limes, each of which contains either a small silver coin or a lottery ticket. They are supposed to represent the four trees that will blossom at the four corners of the city in which the next Buddha will be born. They will then produce all kinds of delicious fruit in fabulous quantities. In the evening men go up the wicker 'tree,' pluck off the limes and throw them to the crowd. The greatest excitement prevails, and the people shriek and shout, and tumble over each other in their endeavours to obtain one of the coveted souvenirs.

A display of fireworks follows the distribution of limes. Birds, water-spouts, "bellowing elephants," and many other fantastic forms blaze, fizz, and explode. When the last spark has disappeared the first sound of orchestral music is heard, and free open-air theatres, puppet-shows, and shadow plays offer their several attractions for the amusement of the people.

On the seventh day the urn of gold is taken from under the canopy, and the copper one removed from it. All the inflammable drapery, and all articles of any value are carried away to be beyond reach of flame. A pile of fragrant wood and spices is neatly arranged, and then the urn is placed thereon. A quick-burning fuse or train of gunpowder is laid from the funeral pyre to the king's pavilion. At the proper time, about sunset usually, he ignites the fuse with sacred fire from the royal temple. Everyone who is permitted, goes at once to the pramane, lights a candle, and lays it in the fire, thereby increasing the brilliancy and intensity of the fire. Great care has to be taken to prevent the whole structure and the surrounding buildings being consumed in a general conflagration. Many people are engaged in extinguishing the fire at places where it threatens to exceed its proper limits. In about an hour the cremation of the body is complete, and the fire is everywhere carefully extinguished. The charred bones are placed in the golden urn once more, the original pyramid rebuilt, and the draperies replaced as before. The ashes of the fire are collected, wrapped up in muslin, placed on a golden dish, taken in a procession of state barges some distance down the river, and there thrown into the waters. For three days after the burning the festivities are kept up, and general rejoicing prevails amongst the crowd. The charred remains are kept in a room in the palace, specially set aside for the reception of the royal remains. The timber used in the construction of the pramane or of any of the attendant buildings, can never be used again for funeral purposes. It is distributed to the priests to be used by them in the erection or repairing of their dwellings.

Such then is the ceremony that attends the death of a king. Other members of the royal family and all princes and nobles of high rank are also cremated with great pomp and with a lavish expenditure of money. As the king's household is a very large one, and as a few deaths occur every year, it would involve a fearful waste of time and money if a separate funeral service were held for each of them in turn. One by one as deaths occur, the dead bodies are placed in the copper urn, and this again in the golden one, until a fairly large number await their cremation. In 1895 a royal funeral ceremony was held that lasted for a week, several bodies being burnt every day. The illustration, "A Royal Funeral Procession", was made in connection with this particular ceremony. The boxes seen passing through one of the city gates were the coffins of the least honoured or distinguished of the dead. Such a cremation, though performed with great state, is not nearly so imposing as that connected with the death of a king.

The poorer classes cannot afford the money to pay for fireworks, theatres, and processions, but they do all that they possibly can to show their respect for the dead, with becoming ritual. When a man is thought to be nearing his end, the priests are called to his bedside. They read to the dying man of his future births, of the blessed Nirvana, and endeavour to drive all fear from his mind. When life is extinct they sprinkle the body with water, and join the relatives in the chorus "Pra Arahang, Pra Arahang". The body is washed, and wrapped in a clean cloth, and money is placed in the mouth. It is then put into an urn, if the friends can afford to buy one; but if not, it rests simply in the coffin. The coffin is an oblong wooden box, covered outside with wall-paper and tinsel, and has no lid. Food is placed inside, and very often the body lies face downwards so that the spirit shall not find its way back again. The coffin is removed from the house through a hole in the wall, and not through the door, for if the spirit of the deceased should be lingering near, it might refuse to pass through the doorway into the outer world, and would then remain to haunt the house and disturb its inhabitants. The coffin is carried round and round the house three or four times, so as to baffle the spirit that it may not be able to return to its former home. For it must be remembered that these people believe that it takes the soul seven days to reach its final destination, and there is always the possibility of its being re-called from its onward flight by earthly attractions, or by non-observance of the ceremonies that should be performed.

The bearers next proceed to one of the temples which possesses a public "Pramane" or crematorium. After the burning has taken place the bones, or charred objects that look like bones, are collected from the ashes, to be reverentially preserved by the relatives. As they have no gold urns in which to store these relics, they keep them in common thick glass tumblers of foreign manufacture, over which they place a pagoda-like covering made of red lacquer and gilded by some native artisan. On very particular occasions these remains are brought out and distributed about the rooms, perhaps as a reminder to the pleasure-seekers that death is ever with them.

Those who have died of cholera or by lightning, and who have consequently been buried, are dug up a few months later, and what is left of them committed to the flames.

Paupers and criminals are disposed of in a barbarous and revolting manner. At one of the city temples a flock of vultures, numbering over a hundred, is kept. The vultures are repulsive, dirty-looking birds who sit stolidly hour by hour upon the roof or walls of the temple, apparently without life or motion except when a body is brought for their repast. Then they become keenly excited at the prospect of the coming feast, for which, however, they must first do battle with the crowd of pariahs that also haunt the vicinity of the same temple. They flock down with noisy croaking and great flapping of wings, but are beaten off by the attendants, who first prepare the body for the feast by cutting it open in different places with large sharp knives. They cast a few pieces of flesh to the dogs and then retire. In a second the body is hidden by the birds, who settle upon it from head to foot. Nothing is to be seen but a compact mass of quivering feathers. The vultures gorge themselves with the flesh, never ceasing as long as anything remains to be consumed, unless it be to make a vicious grab at the head of some venturesome pariah who dares to interfere with their enjoyment of the feast. It is a sickening spectacle, and its only merit is that it is safer from a sanitary point of view to allow the flesh to be eaten in this way than to bury it beneath the damp soil near some human dwelling.

The meal over, the feathered cannibals return to their perches upon roof and wall. The relatives gather up the clean white bones, put them loosely in a wooden coffin, light wax tapers, and bearing the coffin with them, march three times round the funeral pyre. They then light the fire, place the coffin on the burning fuel, and scatter sweetly smelling incense in the leaping flames.

There are two spirits who watch over and take charge of all burning-places. They are familiarly spoken of as the "Grandfather cocoa-nut shell," and the "Grandmother cocoa-nut shell."

To neglect the cremation ceremony would be as fatal to the happiness of the departed soul in its future existence, as to neglect the shaving of the top-knot would be to the success of a child in this. The soul of the man whose body has not been consumed with fire passes into everlasting and fearful servitude. It becomes the bond-slave of a horrid master whose distinguishing personal characteristics are a dog's head on a human body and a ferocious temper. He sits for all time with his feet in the fires of hell, enjoying the infernal heat, but as his enjoyment would cease were his extremities to be consumed, he requires a body of servants to cool them. The souls of the uncremated are his slaves, and it is their duty to carry through the long years of eternity, water in open wicker baskets. Their way to the wells lies across a long and perilous bridge, but over it they must pass day by day without end as they perform their thankless task. When the body is burned the soul is liberated from this terrible bondage. There have been times when some frightful epidemic has ravaged the city, and when the attendants in fear and trembling have left the sick to die alone. Then the soldiers have been sent to gather up the dead and cast them into the public graves. When the scourge has spent itself and the minds of the living have become calm again, the relatives of those who have not been burned begin to reflect upon the awful fate that has overtaken the departed souls. Were they to go to the public grave and dig up a body and burn it, it might not be that of him they seek, and their efforts would be of no avail. But they free the fettered soul in another manner. They believe that the horrid monster of the nether regions knows all the names both of the living and the dead, so that if they endeavour to perform any act of propitiation he will know by whom and for whom the deed is done. They obtain the release of the soul by promising to call themselves in this life the relatives of the demon. It is merely a nominal relationship, but it pleases the fiend with the burning feet, and in return for the homage thus paid to his power he allows the captured soul to go its way.

The worldly relations of the infernal spirit acknowledge their relationship by getting from the priests several red and yellow strings and binding them upon their necks, wrists and ankles. They also make a little cart, and model two clay oxen which they harness to the tiny shafts. In this they put clay images, one for each member of the family. Round the chief joints of these toy images, red and yellow strings are fastened by their owners. Offerings of flowers and fruit are put in the cart and then it is taken to the rice-fields and deposited in some convenient spot. The cart and its contents are soon destroyed by the birds, the wind, and the little field-mice, but they are never restored.