Rensselaer Republican, Volume 14, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 4 May 1882 — A MONGOLIAN FUNERAL. [ARTICLE]

A MONGOLIAN FUNERAL.

Solemn and Brayerful Ceremonies ai the Burial of * Chinaman. The emaciated remains of Cha Attach, a middle-aged Cmnaman, lay in a simple pin# coffin yesterday at his home in Division street, and the friends of the dead man had assembled to pay the last tokens of respect to his memory and perform the mortuary rites of the Buddhist creed. Full twenty-five bareheaded and tearful Mongols sat in the room in strangely embroidered “sues.” black pantaloons and shoes of* marvellous design. At the foot of the coffin a roasted pig savored the air, and all around it were strewn fragments of gold and silver paper that reflected the flames o f a score of brightly burning wax candles. A few “joss” sticks protruded from among the flimsy emblems of temporal riches, and bright strips of colored silk were pendant from the walls. In the midst of all this lowly splendor lay the dead Mongol, with ghastly, upturned face and folded arms. A few minutes of complete silence passed, and three Chinamen entered the room. They were assuming the duties belonging to the Buddhist priests, and each wore a soft black felt hat bound with a strip of white crape. The central one of the three began to chant a prayer in the gutteral Cantonese dialect, andat every pause he made his two assistants chanted a response. Sometimes they reverently kneeled, but they stood during most of the ceremony, always facing the corpse. It was a strange sight, this Buddhist ritual in the heart of a Christian city, but never for a moment did the prayerful voices flag, and never for a moment did the mourners remove their eyes from the face Of their departed comrade. There was, perhaps, one of the assemblage who did cast greedy eyes at the roast pig, but it is said he was converted to Christianity two years ago.

Arter the prayers to Joss had been duly rendered, and the prayer-sticks were lighted, the coffin was borne out of the house and deposited in a hearse. The deceased was a member of the Loon Ye Tong, or United Chinese Brethren, and the hearse was driven to the rooms of the society at 18 Mott street. Here a German brass band was drawn up on the sidewalk, and as the little cortege filed into the Chinese colony the mus ciahs played the dead march from “Saul.” Then the members of the Loon Ye Tong walked two and two from the clubrooms and formed in procession behind the hearse. Each one was dressed in native costume and wore a white silk apron, upon whicn, in black velvet, was worked a square and compass—the symbol of the order. The first section of the mourners carried a red serge flag, trimmed with white, which bore in white Chinese characters the name, age, time of birth and time of death of Cha Afuch. Behind there came two black banners, on which were embossee white hieroglyphics, which freely translated were “Rest in Peace” and “We Mourn Our Loss.” The body was preceded by a line of policemen and the noisy brass band. When the march began there were fully a thousand persons attracted to the scene, and it was with difficulty that the procession could make any progress through the crowd. The remains were taken to the Grand street ferry and here the police escort departed. When the funeral line was formed in Williamsburg a number of rowdies created a disgraceful clamor, but some sensible citizens diove them them away, and the hearse and its followers reached the Evergreens cemetery without further incident. The coffin was then lowered into the grave, a handful of earth was thrown on the cover by each mourner, the mound was quickly raised and sodded, the company dispersed, and, with the three flags floating over him and about twenty prayer sticks at his head, Cha Afuch awaits the coming of Buddha and the resurrection —New York Herald.