It is to meet the delay of years which sometimes elapses between the
death of a person and his permanent burial, that the "City of the
Dead" exists in Canton. This is not a cemetery, but a collection of
nearly a thousand mortuary chapels. The "City of the Dead" is the
pleasantest spot in that nightmare city. A place of great open sunlit
spaces, and streets of clean white-washed mortuaries, sweet with
masses of growing flowers. After the fetid stench of the narrow,
airless streets, the fresh air and sunlight of this "City of the Dead"
were most refreshing, and its absolute silence was welcome after the
deafening turmoil of the town. We were there in spring-time, and
hundreds of blue-and-white porcelain vases, of the sort we use as
garden ornaments, were gorgeous with flowering azaleas of all hues, or
fragrant with freesias. All the mortuaries, though of different sizes,
were built on the same plan, in two compartments, separated by pillars
with a carved wooden screen between them. Behind this screen the
cylindrical lacquered coffin is placed, a most necessary precaution,
for Chinese devils being fortunately unable to go round a corner, the
occupant of the coffin is thus safe from molestation. Other elementary
safeguards are also adopted; a red-covered altar invariably stands in
front of the screen, adorned with candles and artificial flowers, and
incense-sticks are perpetually burning on it.
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