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Part 30

Witchcraft and Superstitious Record in the South-Western District of Scotland · J. Maxwell Wood — chapter 30 of 74 · ~2,198 words · public domain

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In this old Turnpike house Sir Robert died on the 31st December, 1733. It is related that on this occasion a 'corbie' (raven) of preternatural blackness and malignity of aspect, perched himself on the coffin, and would not be driven off, but accompanied the funeral cortège to the grave in the churchyard of Dunscore.

Moreover, when the funeral procession started, and had got some little way on the Galloway side of the Nith, it was found that the horses, with all their struggles, and dripping with perspiration, from some mysterious cause could move the hearse no further. Sir Thomas Kirkpatrick, of Closeburn, the old friend and comrade of Lag (and his relative), who was believed to be deep in some branches of the Black Art, was one of the mourners. This gentleman, the stoutest of Non-jurors, on this occasion swore a great oath that he would drive the hearse of Lag 'though ---- were in it!' and ordered a team of beautiful Spanish horses of his own to be harnessed in place of the others. Sir Thomas mounted and took the reins, when the horses instantly dashed off at a furious gallop that he could in no wise restrain, and abated nought of their headlong pace till they reached the churchyard of Dunscore, where they suddenly pulled up--and died."(76)

When the funeral cortège did start, as already indicated, curious though quite consequent sequels were far from uncommon. Solemnity and deep drinking only too frequently ended in unaffected hilarity or even dissension.

MacTaggart, in his Gallovidian Encyclopædia, has caught and well recorded the boisterous spirit of this grim funeral festivity, as the following graphic description amply shows:--

"At last the Laird o' the Bowertree Buss gaed his last pawt, was straughted, dressed, coffined and a'; and I was bidden to his burial the Tuesday after. There I gaed, and there were met a wheen fine boys. Tam o' Todholes, and Wull o' the Slack war there; Neil Wulson, the fisher, and Wull Rain, the gunner, too. The first service that came roun' was strong farintosh, famous peat reek. There was nae grief amang us. The Laird had plenty, had neither wife nor a wean, sae wha cud greet? We drew close to ither, and began the cracks ding-dang, while every minute roun' came anither reamin' service. I faun' the bees i' my head bizzin' strong i' a wee time. The inside o' the burial house was like the inside o' a Kelton-hill tent; a banter came frae the tae side of the room, and was sent back wi' a jibe frae the ither. Lifting at last began to be talked about, and at last lift we did. 'Whaever wished for a pouchfu' o' drink might tak' it.' This was the order; sae mony a douce black coat hang side wi' a heavy bottle. On we gaed wi' the Laird, his weight we faun' na. Wull Weer we left ahin drunk on the spot. Rob Fisher took a sheer as we came down the green brae, and landed himself in a rossen o' breers. Whaup-nebbed Samuel fell aff the drift too. I saw him as we came across Howmcraig; the drink was gaen frae him like couters. Whan we came to the Taffdyke that rins cross Barrend there we laid the Laird down till we took a rest awee. The inside o' pouches war than turned out, bottle after bottle was touted owre; we rowed about, and some warsled. At last a game at the quoits was proposed; we played, but how we played I kenna. Whan we got tae the kirkyard the sun was jist plumpin' down; we pat the coffin twice in the grave wrang, and as often had to draw't out again. We got it to fit at last, and in wi' the moulds on't. The grave-digger we made a beast o'."

A notable exception to the practice of the period was the funeral of William Burnes, father of the National Bard, who was borne from Lochlea to Alloway Kirkyard, a distance of twelve miles, not a drop of anything excepting a draught of water from a roadside stream being tasted.

The funeral festivities, however, did not end with the lowering of the dead into the grave. There yet remained the final entertainment at the house of the bereaved. If within reasonable distance at all the funeral party returned from the churchyard to partake of the entertainment known as the "draigie," or "dredgy." Again the drinking was long and deep, with results that can only too readily be imagined.

But it must not be assumed that such scenes and proceedings passed without protest on the part of the Church and those who had the welfare of decency and morality at heart. The Presbytery of Penpont, for example, in 1736 issued the following warning to their own district:--

"Yet further how unaccountable and scandalous are the large gatherings and unbecoming behaviour at burials and 'lake-wacks,' also in some places how many are grossly unmannerly in coming to burials without invitation. How extravagant are many in their preparations for such occasions, and in giving much drink, and driving it too frequently, before and after the corpse is enterred, and keeping the company too long together; how many scandalouslie drink until they be drunk on such occasions; this practice cannot but be hurtfull, therefore ought to be discouraged and reformed, and people that are not ashamed to be so vilely unmannerly as to thrust themselves into such meetings without being called ought to be affronted."

Despite protest and counsel, however, the custom of supplying refreshment to mourners in the form of "services" lingered until well into the nineteenth century.

Much good was, however, done in the south-west district of Scotland by the firm position taken up by Dr Henry Duncan of Ruthwell, Dumfriesshire, a personality whose memory is still held in the highest esteem and respect. The method adopted was characteristic of the man, and is described by himself in the Statistical Account of his Parish:--

"The present incumbent fell on a simple expedient by which this practice has been completely abolished. Having engaged the co-operation of some of the leading men in the parish, he drew up a subscription paper, binding the subscribers, among other less important regulations, to give only one service when they had the melancholy duty of presiding at a funeral themselves, and to partake of only one service when they attended the funeral of a neighbour. This paper was readily subscribed by almost every head of a family in the parish, and whatever was injurious in the practice was abolished at once, ... and, speaking generally, may be said to have effectually rooted out the former practice throughout the whole surrounding district" (March, 1834).

After the funeral, certain old rites and customs were carried out. On the death of a tenant the mart, or herezeld (heriot, or best aucht) was seized by the landowner to substantiate his title. The bed and straw on which the deceased had lain were burned in the open field. Concerning this practice Joseph Train in a note to Strains of the Mountain Muse, describes how, "as soon as the corpse is taken from the bed on which the person died, all the straw or heather of which it was composed is taken out and burned in a place where no beast can get near it, and they pretend to find next morning in the ashes the print of the foot of that person in the family who shall die first."

A short reference may here be made to the custom of burial without coffins.

The spirit of economy went far indeed in these older days, for burial, particularly of the poor, took place either without a coffin at all, or they were carried to the grave in one of common and general use, from which they were removed and buried when the grave-side was reached.

A doubtful advance upon this method was the introduction of the "slip-coffin," which permitted of a bolt being drawn when lowered to the bottom of the grave. A hinged bottom was in this way relieved, which left the poor dead body in the closest of contact with mother earth. The motive, of course, was economy, and its use practically restricted to paupers. On the authority of Edgar, author of Old Church Life in Scotland (1886), it is gratifying to note that none of these uncoffined interments had taken place in the South of Scotland for at least 150 years.

In this connection a story somewhat against the "cloth" may be given:--

"A worthy Galloway minister, feeling that the newly-passed Poor Law Act with its assessments was burdensome to his flock, seriously proposed to the Parochial Board of his district that to narrow down the rates a 'slip-coffin' should be made for the poor, out of which the body could be slipped into its narrow home. The proposal met with scant consideration, and during the rest of his lifetime the well-meaning man was known as 'Slip.'"(77)

Before the days of hearses the coffin was borne to the grave on two long poles or hand-spokes. Over the simple bare coffin the "mort-cloth" was spread, for the use of which the "Kirk-Session" made a charge, the money received being devoted to the relief of the poor of the parish. As superstitious custom refused the rites of Christian burial to those who died by their own hand, so was also the use of the "mort-cloth" withheld.

Until comparatively recent days the bodies of suicides were buried at the meeting of four cross roads, or at all events at some lonely, unfrequented spot, the remains having not unusually the additional indignity of being impaled by a stake practised upon them. It is of interest to note that the name of the "Stake Moss," Sanquhar, may be traced to this callous practice.

A superstition of the churchyard itself that still lingers and is worthy of notice, is that the north side is less hallowed than the other portions of "God's Acre." The origin of this comes from the Scriptural description of the last judgment (Matthew xxv.), which tells how "He shall set the sheep on His right hand, but the goats on His left."

A recent local writer has thus embodied the idea and its probable derivation:--

"This superstition (he says) is said to have originated in the New Testament story of the Day of Judgment, when the Lord on entering His house (the entrance of the old churches being at the west end, or on the south near the west) would separate the sheep from the goats--the former to His right hand, the south; and the latter to his left, the north. Our forefathers would not see their dear ones among the goats, 'for evil,' said they, 'is there.' This credulous imagining is not exemplified in the kirkyard alone. Many of our old pre-Reformation churches exhibit evidence of the superstition in the entire absence of windows in their north walls; and in general it would appear that in mediæval times there was a common belief in the evil influence of the north, and that thence came all kinds of ill.

"In Sanquhar Kirkyard it is evident that the superstition prevailed until comparatively modern times, for there are no headstones on the north side of the kirk earlier than the beginning of the last century, all the older monuments being to the south of the kirk, and at its east and west ends."(78)

To the simple earnest dweller in the country there comes at times the thought that brings with it a comfort all its own, that after "life's fitful fever" they will be quietly laid to rest underneath the green turf, within the shadow of the kirk itself. Of this the origin of Carsphairn parish, in the uplands of Galloway, gives telling proof; for in the year 1645 complaint was made to the Scottish Parliament that in the parishes of Dairy and Kells numbers of people had to be buried in the fields, because the houses in which they lived and died were twelve miles from a churchyard. The issue of this was, that the district of Carsphairn was erected into a separate parish, and the indignity of such burials came to an end.

Before closing a chapter devoted to "death custom" and "funeral ceremony," the use of the "dead bell" must certainly be referred to.

In these old days when methods of conveying news and information were restricted, it was the routine practice when a death occurred for the "beadle" (sexton) to go, bell in hand, around the district, pausing at intervals to ring the "passing bell" more particularly in front of the houses of friends of the deceased, announcing at the same time not only the death but also the day of burial. The usual form of his intimation which, with uncovered head, he delivered was:--

"Brethren and sisters,--I hereby let ye to wit that our brother (or sister), named (name, address, and occupation), departed this life at ----of the clock, according to the pleasure Almighty God, and you are all invited to attend the funeral on ----."

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