Note 24 — Chapter III

The lengthened description of Buddha’s funeral has suggested the idea of laying before the reader a brief account of the ceremonies observed by Buddhists in Burmah, when funeral rites are performed on the mortal remains of Talapoins, who have been eminent in the profession and have spent their whole lives in monasteries. By comparing the following account with the narrative of the legend, we will see that the rubrics of the funeral service, in our days, are nearly the same as those existing at the origin of Buddhism.

When a Buddhist recluse has given up the ghost, the corpse is carefully and diligently washed by laymen, or the younger inmates of the monastery. A large incision is made in the abdomen; its contents are taken out and buried in the earth without any ceremony being observed on the occasion. The empty cavity is filled up with ashes, bran, or some other desiccative substances for preventing putrefaction. The corpse is then tightly wrapt with bands or swathes of a white colour from head to foot, and then covered with the yellow habit of the profession. Sometimes a coat of black varnish is put over and then leaves of gold, so that the whole body is gilt. It is afterwards bound all over with ropes tightened as much as possible, so as to bring it within the narrowest dimensions. When thus prepared, the corpse is placed in an open coffin. The coffin is made of the trunk of a tree, rudely hollowed, and often so imperfectly scooped out as not to afford sufficient room for the corpse. In the middle of the interior part of the coffin, an opening, about two inches in diameter, has been made, to afford issue to the humours that may ooze out through the swathes. The coffin is unceremoniously laid on the floor of the monastery. A bamboo, 7 or 8 feet long, is procured; one of its ends is inserted in the hole made in the coffin, and the other is sunk into the ground below; it is the channel through which the humours flow into the earth. After a lapse of ten or twelve days, the body is supposed to be quite dry; they set about putting a covering over the coffin and effectually shutting it.

Whilst residing at Tavoy, I wished, on a certain day, to go and witness all the particulars observed on such occasions. A most opportune event favoured the prosecution of my wishes. A Talapoin of my acquaintance had died a fortnight before, after thirty years of profession. His body, laid in the coffin, was to be for ever concealed from human sight. I went into the monastery, where I met a large party of the brethren of the deceased, who had assembled for the ceremony. Most of them were known to me. My reception was at once kind and cordial. Great was my surprise at seeing, instead of the grief and mourning which the circumstance seemed to demand, laughing, talking, and amusement, going on at a rate which is to be called scandalous. No one appeared to take the least notice of the deceased, whose corpse was lying at our feet. A momentary stop was put to the indecorous behaviour of the assistants by the appearance of two stout carpenters bringing a board four or five inches thick, designed for the cover. They vainly tried to fit it in its place; the hollow of the coffin was neither broad nor deep enough for holding the corpse, though reduced to the smallest proportions. The operation was not a very easy one to bring the board in contact with the sides of the coffin, despite the resistance that was to be offered by the corpse. The carpenters were determined not to be disappointed. At the two ends and in the middle of the coffin, ropes were passed several times round it with the utmost tension, in such a manner as to have six or seven coils in the same place. Enormous wooden wedges were inserted right and left in three places between the sides and the coils. On these wedges the workmen hammered with their whole strength during about twenty minutes, to the great amusement of all the bystanders. Each blow of the hammer lessened the distance between the cover and the brim of the coffin. Every perceptible success, gained over the latent resisting power, elicited a burst of applause, and a cheer to the persevering workmen. At last all resistance being overcome, the cover rested fixedly in its place. It is needless to add that the corpse inside was but a hideous mass of mangled flesh and broken bones.

According to the custom observed on such occasions, a rude building was erected for the purpose of placing therein the mortal remains of the deceased, until preparations on a grand scale should have been made for doing honour to the illustrious departed individual. That building, as well as those made for a similar purpose, is but a temporary edifice raised for the occasion, and made of bamboos with an attap roof. In the centre of that large bungalow was erected a kind of estrade, about twelve feet high, well decorated. The upper part is often gilt, but always plated with thin metal leaves and tinsels of various colours. From the sides hang rough drawings, representing animals, monsters of various kinds, religious subjects, and others, but rarely of great indecency. Around this estrade are disposed posts, from the top of which are suspended small flags and streamers of different forms and shapes. On the summit is arranged a place for the coffin, but the four sides at that place are about two or three feet higher than the level whereupon rests the coffin, so that it is concealed entirely from the sight of the visitors.

Things remained in that state for four months, that is to say, until all the arrangements had been made for the grand ceremony, the expense of which is commonly defrayed by voluntary contributions. The arrangements being all complete, a day was appointed at the sound of gongs, for burning the corpse of the pious recluse. At noon of that day, the whole population of the town flocked to a vast and extensive plain beyond the old wall and ditch in the north. Men and women, dressed in their finest attire, swarmed in every direction, selecting the most suitable and convenient situations for enjoying a commanding view of the fête. The funeral pile occupied nearly the centre of the plain; it was about fifteen feet high, of a square shape, encased with planks, which gave to it a neat appearance. It was large at the base, and went on diminishing in size in the upper part, terminating in a square platform where the coffin was to be deposited. A small roof, supported on four bamboo posts, elegantly adorned, overshaded the platform. A huge four-wheeled cart, decorated in the most fantastic manner, was descried at a distance; it was drawn by a great number of men, and brought to the foot of the pile. Upon it was the coffin. Immense cheers, shouts of thousands, had announced the progress of the cart with its precious relics, as it passed through the crowd. The coffin was forthwith hoisted on the platform. Mats were then spread round the pile, whereupon sat numbers of Talapoins, reciting aloud long formulas in Pali. The devotions being performed, they rose up and prepared to depart, attended with a retinue of their disciples, who loaded themselves with the offerings made on the occasion. These offerings consisted of plantains, cocoa-nuts, sugar-canes, rice, pillows, mats, mattresses, &c. Masters and disciples returned to their monasteries with their valuable collections.

The place being cleared, the eyes were all riveted on two large rockets, placed horizontally, each between two ropes, to which they were connected by two side rings. One of the ends of the ropes was strongly fixed at posts behind the rockets, and the other was made as tight as possible at the foot of the pile. At a given signal, the rockets, emitting smoke, rushed forward with a loud, hissing, and irregular noise, tremulously gliding along the ropes, and in an instant penetrating into the interior of the pile, and setting fire to a heap of inflammable materials, amassed beforehand for that purpose. In a short while the whole pile was in a blaze, and soon entirely consumed with the coffin and the corpse. The bones or half-burnt bits of bones that remained, were carefully collected, to be subsequently interred in a becoming place.