The daimyo's procession had started to move betimes, and was well on the way before the streets had quieted down for the midday. The parade had been so well noised about that the roads were everywhere lined with the interested and the curious. Flags and bunting were displayed and many shops had been closed in honour of the event. By common consent the occasion had been turned into a general holiday in honour of the man whose sympathy had endeared him to both prince and pauper alike; and as the pageant moved along there was presented to view a strikingly imposing scene. Over forty thousand men were in line, and among them many dignitaries, who had been invited and who chanced to join as a mark of respect and an act of loyalty. The swordsmen, under the command of Beppu, a trusted officer of the daimyo's forces, marched in the lead; after these came the spearsmen; then the fieldsmen; and then the courtiers, retainers, members of the household, servants, criers, and hangers-on. Groups of knightly heralds, in costumes of white and gold, carried high, massive plumes of green and brown; there were couriers with flaming banners, gorgeous floats, flags, streamers, and bunting; huge grotesque figures and other monstrosities wabbled along on human backs, while gilded poles and clever symbols lined the imposing column. Gaudy uniforms and costly dress told of the wealth and pomp that followed in the splendid train, and the great chairs of state bespoke Maido's power and the splendour of his suite. On the door at either side of these rich palanquins shone the family crest, worked into the beautiful lacquer with finely threaded gold and silver, in the design of five circles around ten short rays representing sword punctures. The daimyo's chair came first in line, then Shibusawa's. After all the rest there followed long trains laden with baggage and paraphernalia belonging to the household and retainers of the family. The procession moved in double file along the old Tokaido, the deep-worn and hard-packed highway with its tall cedars and interlocking branches on either side. Here they travelled in solemn grandeur as their ancestors of a thousand years had done, and Maido marvelled at the beauty of the ceremony and thought with pride of the splendour of his retinue. His army was counted legion and his income over a million koku,[18] while the doors of nobility were open to him and royalty pleased with his friendship. He had in effect just closed a brilliant career, and his own son about to succeed him he believed capable of winning new laurels--why should he not swell with satisfaction as he rode along beneath the shade of these giants of the forest? Shibusawa, on the other hand, had begun to take a deeper hold on life. He had seen the world, and felt keenly the narrow pride which the lords and rulers of his land boasted.