Bizarre, Brutal, Macabre And Downright Weird Ancient Death Rituals

Hercules Fighting Death to Save Alcestis’ (1869-1871) by Frederic Leighton, 1st Baron Leighton.

By ashley cowie

Any parent must agree that one of the greatest hardships experienced around the death of a family member is having to explain to children what happened and what happens next? Should you tell them the stark truth; that the fun and games don’t last forever? What sort of words will you use; dead, died, passed away, lost, crossed over, or went to sleep? This is a problem with very, very ancient origins. Ancient death rituals offer up evidence for this.

Since the beginnings of civilization, whenever and wherever, parents have had to teach their children how to grieve, commemorate, and dispose of deceased loved ones. And in the ancient world death was an infinitely more complicated affair, evident in the bizarre death rites practiced from culture to culture around the world. Here are some of the oldest funeral rituals in history, ones that take death to a whole new level of macabre.

Zoroastrian Sky Burials

Zoroastrianism; the ancient pre-Islamic religion of modern-day Iran, was founded about 3500 years ago and still survives today in India, where the descendants of Iranian (Persian) immigrants are known as Parsees. A 2017 article by scholar Catherine Beyer, Zoroastrian Funerals, Zoroastrian Views of Death, describes the first step in Zoroastrian funeral rites, where a specially trained member of the community cleansed the deceased “in unconsecrated bull’s urine.” The corpse was then wrapped in linen and visited twice by ‘Sagdid’ – a spiritually charged dog believed to banish evil spirits – before it was placed on top of the ‘Dhakma’ (Tower of Silence) to be torn apart and finally devoured by vultures.

A 1938 photograph showing the aftermath of a ‘Sky burial’ from the Bundesarchiv.

Tibetan Buddhist Celestial Burials

Similarly to ancient Zoroastrians, today, about 80% of Tibetan Buddhists still choose traditional “sky burials.” This Buddhist ritual has been observed for thousands of years and it differs from the Iranian/Indian rituals because the deceased were/are chopped up into small pieces and fed to birds, rather than being ‘left’ for the birds.

While at first this might seem nothing short of brutal, verging on undignified, a research article published on Buddhist Channel explains that Buddhists have no desire to commemorate dead bodies through preservation, as they are thought of as shells – empty vessels without a soul. What is more, in their doctrines, which promote ‘respect for all life forms’, if one’s final act is to sustain the life of another living creature the ritual is actually a final act of selfless compassion and charity, which are primary concepts in Buddhism.

Drigung Monastery in Maizhokunggar County, Lhasa, Tibet was founded in 1179 AD. Traditionally it has been the chief seat of the Drikung Kagyu tradition of Tibetan Buddhism and it is famous for its performance of ‘sky burials’.

Native North American Totem Poles

Native cultures in the American Northwest carved wooden Totem poles to symbolize the characters and events in myths and to convey the experiences of living people and recently deceased ancestors. The Haida people from the Southeast Alaskan territories tossed their dead into a mass grave pit to be scavenged by wild animals.

However, Marianne Boelscher tells us in her 1988 book  The Curtain Within: Haida Social and Mythical Discourse that the death of a chief, shaman, or warrior, brought with it a complex and bloodthirsty series of rituals. Dead shamans, who were thought to have cured the sick, ensured supplies of fish and game, and influenced the weather, trading expeditions, and warfare, were chopped up and pulped with clubs so that they could be stuffed into suitcase-sized wooden boxes. Once pressed inside, the boxes were set atop mortuary totem poles outside the deceased shamans’ homes to assist their spirits’ journey to the afterlife.

Wooden totem poles at the Skidegate Indian Village of the Haida tribe. Skidegate Inlet, British Columbia, Canada, 1878.

Endocannibalism

Known to anthropologists as “endocannibalism” many ancient cultures disposed of their dead by eating them . Herodotus (3.38) first mentioned ‘funerary cannibalism’ as being practiced among the Indian  Callatiae people. Furthermore, the Aghoris  of northern India were said to “consume the flesh of the dead floating in the Ganges in pursuit of immortality and supernatural power,” according to an article published on Today.

The ancient Melanesians of Papua New Guinea and the Wari people of Brazil both held “feasts of the dead,” where they attempted to “bond the living with the dead” and to express community fears associated with death. Some specialists believe that endocannibalism is something the dead might have expected as a final gesture of goodwill to the tribe and their direct family.

Painted by Charles E. Gordon Frazer (1863-1899), ‘A cannibal feast on Tanna, Vanuatu, New Hebrides’, c. 1885–1889.

Sati – Burning The Widow

Sati (suttee) is an ancient funeral custom practiced by the Egyptians, Vedic Indians, Goths, Greeks, and Scythians. Banned mostly everywhere today, Sati required widows to be burnt to ashes on their dead husband’s pyres; sometimes voluntary ending their lives, but there are many recorded incidences of women being forced to commit Sati, which is murderous, inconceivable, and beyond any reason.

Robert L. Hardgrave, Jr. is Temple Professor Emeritus in the Humanities, Government and Asian Studies, The University of Texas at Austin. In his informative book The Representation of Sati: Four Eighteenth Century, the Sati ritual is considered as having maybe originated to “dissuade wives from killing their wealthy husbands” and it was sold to the public as a way for husband and wife to venture to the afterlife together.

A Hindu widow burning herself with the corpse of her husband, 1820s, by English illustrator Frederic Shoberl.

Sacrificial Viking Slaves

While the threat of a Sati ritual must have utterly terrified Hindi women of all ages and creeds, the death of an ancient Scandinavian nobleman, according to Ahmad ibn Fadlan, a 10th century Arab Muslim writer, brought funerary events of an “exceptionally barbaric nature.” After the death of a chieftain, his body was placed in a temporary grave for ten days while a slave girl was ‘selected to volunteer’ to join him on his passage to the afterlife. The sacrificial maiden was forced to drink highly intoxicating, psychedelic mushroom enhanced drinks, and as a way “to transform the chieftain’s life force” she was forced to have sex with every man in the village who would all say to her, “Tell your master that I did this because of my love for him.”

A 2015 Ancient Origins article written by contributor Mark Miller titled The 10th century chronicle of the violent, orgiastic funeral of a Viking chieftain explored these rites in detail and explained that after what amounts to constitutionalized ‘rape’, the girl was taken to another tent where she had sex with six Viking men. The last man strangled the girl with a rope while the settlement’s matriarch ritually stabbed her to death. The chieftain and his slave girl were finally placed on a wooden ship to take them to the afterlife.

The deceased chieftain and slave girl were sometimes incinerated within a symbolic stone built ship. This example is situated at Badelunda, near Västerås, Sweden.

Somewhere Between The Above And The Below

In 1573 AD, the Bo people of southern China’s Gongxian County were massacred by the Ming Dynasty and are today all but completely forgotten, if not for their mysterious 160 hanging coffin baskets located almost 300 feet (91 meters) high on cliffs and in natural caves above the Crab Stream. A China.org article informs that locals refer to the ancient Bo people as the “Sons of the Cliffs” and “Subjugators of the Sky”, and murals surround the coffins that were executed with bright cinnabar red colors illustrating the lifestyles of the ancient slaughtered people.

One of the hanging tombs of the Ku People at Bainitang ( 白泥塘), Qiubei county, Wenshan prefecture, Yunnan province, China.

What Can We Learn from Ancient Death Rituals?

Having skirted over some of the ancient world’s death rituals, we are now hopefully better equipped to answer those questions that our children will inevitably ask us. You might be well served to offer your child the words of author Robert Fulghum: “I believe that imagination is stronger than knowledge. That myth is more potent than history. That dreams are more powerful than facts. That hope always triumphs over experience. That laughter is the only cure for grief. And I believe that love is stronger than death.”

Complete Article HERE!

The Creepy And Fascinating History of How Humans Get Rid of Their Dead

By MIKE MCRAE

When your old Aunt Petunia passes away, there’s a good chance her body will either be reduced to ash inside a purpose-built kiln or buried in an expensive (but not too expensive) wooden box next to the decaying remains of Uncle Harold.

If only she’d lived in another time, or another place, things could have been very different.

Different cultures have disposed of human remains in wide variety of ways, some a little more colourful than others.

And we might need to revisit some of them soon, because, let’s face it, we can’t keep packing our dead into prime real estate.

In this 5-minute TED-Ed video, historian and author Keith Eggener digs deep into the past of funerary practices to explore how today’s cemeteries evolved, and imagines where they’ll be in the future.

The history of the human funeral is a tough topic to study. Other animals typically have little to do with the remains of their loved ones, and if we go back far enough, our ancestors were no different.

So at some point in history we went from stepping around dead bodies to purposefully disposing of them. Identifying when this change took place is a bit of a challenge.

Several hundred thousand year old hominin bones found in a pit in Spain’s Atapuerca Mountains were once hypothesised to be the oldest evidence of a mortuary ritual, on account of being found among tools nobody in their right mind would throw down a hole.

Recent research has cast doubt on that thought, suggesting the much more gruesome explanation of cannibalism and leaving the question of just when our rituals first evolved up for debate.

Neanderthals were almost certainly interring the remains of the dead with respect tens of thousands of years ago.

The charred remains of an Australian Aboriginal woman near Lake Mungo represent the oldest cremation, at around 40,000 years old. So we’ve been disposing of the dead for at least as long as that.

Even if we can’t settle on an exact ‘when’, we’re left with the question of ‘why?’

Mortuary practices were well underway long before writing was a thing, so we can only speculate their reasons.

Eggener suggests the first burials might have been less than reverent, with those low on the social ladder being thrown into a pit while those higher up were given a fancy send-off.

At some point it’s possible that some viewed burial as a more appealing option, preferring it to being dried or eaten in plain sight.

Whatever the inspiration was, burials were relatively common by the time the first settlements appeared around 10,000 years ago. Cultures far and wide began to store their dead in shared locations, such as underground catacombs or suburban necropolises.

In fact, we get the word ‘cemetery’ from ancient Greek words meaning sleeping chamber.

Today we see these kinds of landscapes as sombre spots for quiet contemplation. Yet this whole ‘rest in peace’ attitude has also varied throughout the centuries.

Eggener describes the medieval cemetery as a place where markets and fairs were often held, and farmers would graze their livestock (apparently grass grown over graves made for sweeter milk – try using that in your advertising these days!).

Our historical appreciation of the cemetery as a community centre began to lose its appeal by the end of the 19th century, coinciding with the rise in popularity of public parks and botanical gardens, says Eggener.

But even today there a range of funeral alternatives still in practice.

Various forms of so-called sky burial can still be found in remote parts of Tibet and Mongolia, for example, where bodies are deliberately left to the elements and scavengers to consume.

There are also plenty of examples of mummification still happening around the world, where bodies are preserved in some manner before being housed with dignity.

Expanding populations in city centres and value in recycling and reusing resources might soon see an end to the traditional cemetery, forcing us to rethink our attitudes towards the dead.

Knowing what the future of death will look like is almost as speculative as understanding our past. Eggener has a few suggestions which are well worth considering.

Maybe Aunt Petunia should be turned into a tattoo. It’s not like she wanted to spend eternity next to Uncle Harold anyway.

Complete Article HERE!

The Pet Cemetery

Filmmaker Sam Green was just about to fly out of Columbus, Ohio when his friend offered to make a quick detour. “She asked if I wanted to see a little pet cemetery that’s across the street from the airport,” Green told The Atlantic. Armed with his camera, Green captured the tombstones of a menagerie of dearly departed animals, some dating back to the early twentieth century. His short film, Julius Caesar was Buried in a Pet Cemetery, featuring an original score from Yo La Tengo, showcases the pets’ final resting place—and the human love they once inspired.

Green said that he finds graveyards for pets especially moving because the headstones tend to be much more emotive than those found in human cemeteries. “You can say, ‘Buster was the best parakeet who ever lived,’” said Green. “With human graves, everything is so much more constrained. People love their animals in such an intense way and are able to express that love in a much freer way than they can about people they’ve lost.”

“You have gone and left such emptiness that time can never fill,” reads a grave for a dog named Jiggs Boy, who died in 1933.

Life of assisted dying advocate celebrated by hundreds

By Taryn Grant

People left their seats to dance and sing along to a live performance of “Mustang Sally” while servers waited in the next room, poised with champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries.

This was not your typical funeral.

Hundreds of family, friends, and members of the public turned out for Audrey Parker’s celebration of life.

Audrey Parker wanted her friends and family to be uplifted by the ceremony and so she planned every detail with that aim before she died on Nov. 1.

“She planned it and she knew that when we walked out of here today we would remember that life is supposed to be a celebration. This is a celebration of life, not just Audrey’s but all of ours,” said her friend Nancy Regan, the master of ceremonies.

Several hundred people gathered at Pier 21 on Friday afternoon to commemorate Parker, the 57-year-old Halifax woman who chose to die with medical assistance as she faced a terminal cancer diagnosis.

Many of the speakers mentioned how popular Parker was, with a large and adoring group of friends and a close-knit family who made up much of the crowd. But the ceremony was also open to the public, who came to know Parker in the final months of her life as she advocated for change in Canada’s assisted dying legislation.

Parker left two legacies: one for the people who knew her and were inspired by her exuberant kindness and another for those in the public who were spurred to take a closer look at a complex law.

“I’m gonna get a little political now, because I want to talk about Aud’s legacy,” said her friend Kimberley King, the last of seven speakers at Friday’s ceremony.

“Audrey knew that she wanted to be a spark, but she never imagined she’d be a national advocate,” King said.

Parker was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer in 2016 and as her illness progressed she experienced excruciating pain from tumours in her bones. She was approved by a doctor for medical assistance in dying (MAID), but as it stands, the law stipulates that patients must give late-stage consent.

It’s a safeguard that’s meant to protect people in a vulnerable state — such as when their physical health and mental faculties may be failing — but Parker said that in her circumstance, all it did was cut her life even shorter.

“I really wish that we had her this Christmas,” said her stepdaughter, Lucie MacMaster, after reflecting at Friday’s ceremony on past holidays they’d shared.

“But here we are,” she added.

Parker chose Nov. 1 for her final day because she knew that she would still be able to give the necessary late-stage consent. The cancer has recently spread to the lining of her brain, and she worried that if she waited much longer, the opportunity would be lost.

Before she died, Parker called on Ottawa to amend MAID so that people like her could give advance consent for their own death. It could not be amended in time for her, but she asked the public to keep pushing for the change.

“She did her part, and now it’s our turn. In Audrey’s honour and memory, I ask you to continue to support her movement. We have an opportunity to amend a federal law so that people who are invoking MAID don’t need double consent and therefore don’t need to die early like our Audrey did,” said King.

The political response to Parker’s plea has been mixed.

Local MLA Darren Fisher has said he’d like to see the legislation go “a little bit further,” but Justice Minister Jody Wilson-Raybould disagreed, telling reporters the day after Parker’s death that there were no plans to change the two-year-old law.

Parker’s friend Robert Zed announced on Friday that there will soon be a permanent memorial for Parker in Halifax’s Point Pleasant Park. A steel bench is to be installed on Monday, facing out toward the water on Sailors Memorial Way.

Complete Article HERE!

Death Is Not An Emergency: How Recompose Is Redesigning The End of Life

Katrina Spade envisions more options for the end of life that draw on nature as a model. Spade was named a 2018 Ashoka Fellow for her groundbreaking work.

Ashoka

Katrina Spade wants to transform the U.S. funeral industry, making way for many more options for those facing death and for their families. She founded Recompose in 2017 to champion a dramatically new approach that reconnects death to natural cycles of life and engages people through meaningful participation. Ashoka’s Michael Zakaras caught up with Spade to learn more.

Michael Zakaras: What inspired your interest in the rituals and practices around death?  

Katrina Spade: I had a moment around age 30 when I realized I was mortal, and I became curious about what would happen to my physical body when I died. Because my family is not religious and most of my friends aren’t either, I thought, what will they do? And I discovered that there are really just two options in the U.S.: cremation and conventional burial. Both practices poison the planet — this struck me as the wrong punctuation for lives lived in harmony with nature.

Zakaras: Why do we have just these two options?

Spade: Much of it is convention, it’s just the way things have been done. Take modern embalming. Many people think of it as a centuries-old tradition — but it became popular in the U.S. only during the Civil War. A couple of enterprising young people invented and marketed it to soldiers on the battlefield as a way to get their bodies home to their families — for advance payment. They used arsenic instead of formaldehyde back then. Today’s funeral practices, and many of our laws, are based on the dual practices of selling caskets and embalming bodies from 150 years ago.

Zakaras: How big is the funeral industry today?

Spade: About $20 billion dollars, and it’s an interesting industry, with many funeral homes passed down generation to generation and a few large corporations that own a lot of funeral homes. One of the things that’s so interesting is the idea that every person can “own” a piece of land for eternity, in the form of a cemetery plot. This is not a sustainable model, especially for cities with space constraints.

Zakaras: That’s a good point. How much land would you need to bury everyone in, say, New York City?

Spade: We’d need over 200 million square feet of land, or 7.5 square miles! And besides the land use, cemeteries are filled with metal, wood, concrete, and embalming fluid, a known carcinogen.

Many people consider cremation to be a more sustainable choice, and its popularity is rising: by 2035 an estimated 80% of Americans will be cremated. But actually, cremation is an energy-intensive process that releases greenhouse gases and particulates, emitting more than 600 million lbs of CO2 annually.

Zakaras: So what’s the alternative?

Spade: With Recompose, we asked ourselves how we could use nature — which has totally perfected the life/death cycle — as a model for human death care. We developed a way to transform bodies into soil, so that with our last gesture we can give back to the earth and reconnect with the natural cycles. We’re also aiming to provide ritual, to help people have a more direct and conscious experience around this really important event. As hard as it can be, the end of one’s life is a profound moment — for ourselves and for the friends and families we leave behind.

Zakaras: If you are successful, what will look different in 10 years?

Spade: I’m hopeful that we will have many options for the end of life — from hospice care all the way through disposition. It won’t be the odd family who says, “Maybe we should have a home funeral” — it’ll be every family that says, “Okay, how are we approaching this? What feels right to us?” And it will be normal to ask: “What do I want my end of life to look like? What will happen to my body? Where do I want to be when I die?” These are things that should be up to us, but we’ve never really felt that we had the agency or the cultural support to decide them.

The funeral industry would like us to think that it’s difficult or impossible for us to care for our own after a death, but humans have been doing that for millennia. There are a lot of reasons to take back some of that work, the work of caring for the dead, because there’s so much beauty inherent in it and it’s such a personal thing.

Zakaras: Why is this a particularly important moment for this work?

Spade: There’s a growing realization of climate change, coupled with this incredible cohort of baby boomers — 10,000 Americans turn 65 every day — who are approaching the end of their life or seeing someone go through death and thinking, “Is this really the best we can do?” This is a generation that’s really good at saying “Wait a minute, we can do better than this.”

Zakaras: Do you ever get tired of talking about death?

Spade: I never do! We have such a long way to go, but a new relationship with death is totally possible. One of my favorite sayings is “Death is not an emergency.” This is a wonderful reminder that the very first thing we should do when someone dies is pause and take a deep breath and just be in the moment.

5 Reasons to Plan Your Funeral Now

No one likes to think about death, but planning ahead for your funeral is smart

By Candy Arrington

Although I didn’t know it at the time, a week after my father received a terminal cancer diagnosis, he asked my cousin to take him to a local mortuary where he made decisions about his burial and paid for his funeral. Following his death five months later, as a grieving only child, I was thankful my father had the foresight to plan ahead, as he had always done for other life events. His choice to preplan was a gift that prevented me from making emotional and costly decisions based in grief.

Death is a subject none of us want to confront. Talking about death causes us to face mortality and run head-on into the fact that we will not always be here. Yet death is inevitable and planning your funeral is a lot like planning for retirement. It requires honest evaluation and sometimes hard decisions, but it’s something that needs to be done.

Here are five reasons to overcome hesitancy and consider planning your funeral now:

1. Rising Costs

Each year, funeral costs continue to rise. Planning and paying for your funeral now is a way to avoid those increasing costs. According to the National Funeral Directors Association (NFDA), the median cost for an adult funeral with viewing and burial, including vault, was $8,755 in 2017. For a funeral with viewing and cremation, the median cost was $6,260. These amounts do not include cemetery costs, monument or marker, pall flowers, obituary or other related expenses, which could raise the cost to between $10,000 and $12,000. However, consumers have options.

“Charges at all mortuaries are based on operating costs and overhead and are higher in larger metropolitan areas,” said Glenn Miller, manager at J.F. Floyd Mortuary in Spartanburg, S.C. “With a full-service mortuary, there are many options. All of our services are itemized, and families can choose what to include. Our fees are the same for a funeral at a church or at our chapel as long as it involves our standard five staff members.”

2. The Ability to Make Your Own Decisions

Most people like to feel in control over decisions that affect their lives, and often that extends to end-of-life decisions. While no one can predict the time and circumstances of death, many take comfort in knowing they’ve selected the type of burial, location and funeral they want. While many plan to make these decisions eventually, most never actually follow through.

“Emotions are the greatest deterrent to preplanning,” said Miller. “People often have the attitude that if they don’t talk about death, it won’t happen.”

If you approach funeral planning as you would a financial or business decision, you may be able to get beyond those difficult emotions. Many mortuary websites provide preplanning information. Other websites, such as Funeralwise, help calculate costs. Move beyond any superstitious notions that funeral planning hastens death, and take time to investigate.

Be aware that preplanning does not require prepayment. The NFDA provides a Bill of Rights for Funeral Preplanning. Knowing your rights helps you plan wisely and avoid being overcharged.

3. To Lessen Future Family Conflict

If you’ve ever tried to plan a family reunion or holiday get-together, you know suggestions and opinions abound and conflict. When planning a funeral — factoring in intense emotions, personality conflicts and multiplying by the number of siblings — you potentially have a recipe for a family squabble.

“Many people are still traditional in their faith and type of funeral they want, while their children may not be,” said Miller. “Children think differently than their parents and often have a more contemporary approach to burial, funeral location, music and minister. Planning ahead documents your wishes.”

While you can’t guarantee family members will abide by your choices, preplanning documents your wishes and provides a benchmark.

4. To Reduce the Financial Burden

We all hope to leave assets for our children, yet a prolonged stay in a care facility can deplete savings. Remaining assets are often non-liquid, which doesn’t help with the immediate need to pay mortuary or crematorium costs. Prepaying for your funeral and associated costs eliminates or reduces the financial burden on those left behind. Most mortuaries provide incremental prepayment options over months or years.

5. Preplanning is a Gift to Loved Ones

Planning a funeral is a huge hurdle for grieving family members who may be physically and emotionally exhausted. If even some planning has been done ahead, the burden of making rapid, costly decisions is eased.

Sometimes planning occurs near the end of life, but any information given or selections made are gifts to those who will execute the funeral.

Sherry Cochran’s father made decisions about his funeral while in hospice care, with his wife and six children present.

“My father was a minister, and he openly discussed his funeral,” said Cochran, a retired attorney in Raleigh, N.C. “He chose the hymns, minister, mortuary, cemetery and told us any casket we chose was fine as long as it was plain and didn’t cost much. When your parent is willing to talk about end-of-life issues and make decisions, it teaches you how to approach death and provides closure.”

Complete Article HERE!

‘Time to grieve.’

Victorian-era funeral rites carry lessons for today, St. Louis group says

Pallbearers carry one of two caskets to the grave site from the chapel during the Victorian-era funeral reenactment by the Mourning Society

By Nassim Benchaabane

Flowers weren’t just for decoration at Victorian-era wakes.

“They were having people over to view the body so they had to try to keep the odors to a minimum,” said Edna Dieterle, with the historical re-enactment group, the Mourning Society of St. Louis.

Dieterle, 61, spent Saturday at historic Bellefontaine Cemetery in black dress and veil, as one of several people re-enacting a vigil at the gravesite of the Lindells, a family of five wiped out in a single week by a cholera epidemic that struck the city nearly exactly 152 years ago.

Although other historical enthusiasts hold cemetery tours or storytelling events, the Mourning Society has spent the last five years teaching people about Victorian funeral customs by bringing those customs back to life.

Re-creating mid-19th-century funerals is a hobby for Dieterle and her fellow mourners, but it’s also a way to connect people with the past through a shared experience, death, which was a pervasive part of daily life back then due, in part, to epidemics and unsanitary living conditions.

“People think Victorians were so focused on death, but they had so much of it to deal with,” said Dieterle, a nurse whose interest in historical medicine led her to learn more about diseases, death and funeral etiquette. “It was such a common visitor to homes in the 1860s. They weren’t morbid people, it was just reality.”

The Mourning Society also re-creates Victorian-style wakes at 19th-century homes, showcasing Dieterle’s creepy collection of mementos: jewelry made with the hair or teeth of a lost loved one, photos of dead children dressed in their Sunday best, black-and-white china painted with graveyard scenes that say “The Orphans” or “Mother’s Grave.”

Some of that collection — including instruments once used to “bleed” sick patients and recipes for funeral biscuits — will be on display at the Mourning Society’s event Oct. 26 at the Campbell House Museum in downtown St. Louis. Visitors will take part in a re-creation of the wake for Robert Campbell, a prominent businessman who died Oct. 16, 1879, in the family home. The house, which has its original furnishings, will be dimly lit by candlelight to set the mood as attendees learn about another killer that haunted the Victorians: diphtheria.

The widow, played by Edna Dieterle, poses for a photo in the cemetery during the Victorian-era funeral reenactment by the Mourning Society

While October is prime time for the Mourning Society events, thanks to Halloween, members say their goal isn’t to spook spectators but to teach them.

“It has a somber atmosphere, but no one is jumping out of the coffin with a chainsaw,” said Katherine Kozemczak, another organizer with the Mourning Society.
“But if you think about it, dying of cholera is a pretty scary thing.”

Time to grieve

As opposed to current day, Victorian customs encouraged people to mourn their loved ones openly, intensely, and for elderly widows, permanently, Dieterle said.

They mimicked the United Kingdom’s Queen Victoria — the namesake of the era — who upon the death of her husband, Prince Albert, in 1861 from suspected typhoid fever, plunged into deep mourning and wore black the remaining four decades of her life. The long-lived monarch ruled from 1837-1901.

“They focused on the grief, whereas nowadays we sometimes give advice to just move on,” Dieterle said. “The Victorians gave them time to mourn, time to grieve and time to heal.”

Women in mourning would wear special clothing — black dresses, veils, gloves and shawls, in addition to carrying parasols to block out the sun — for several months, if not a year or more. Women who couldn’t afford to buy funeral wear would dye an old dress with tea to stain it brown or gray. Men would wear armbands or brooches they could affix to regular clothing.

The homes of those in mourning would have their doors covered with black fabric, which, like the clothing, signaled to passers-by not to disturb them and muffled the sharpness of a knock on the door if they did.

Pallbearers carry one of two caskets to the grave site from the chapel during the Victorian-era funeral reenactment by the Mourning Society

“Whereas now, if you lose a loved one, people don’t know,” Dieterle said. “We’ve all had it happen where someone you haven’t seen in a while comes up and asks you how you’ve been, and you don’t want to talk about it. They could avoid those awkward situations.”

They may give people goosebumps these days, but Dieterle says there is logic behind every Victorian funeral custom.

“To us, now, they’re very sad, but for them it helped them focus on their grief, and they felt it was an appropriate thing to do,” Dieterle said.

For example, photo shoots of dead loved ones?

“They might have been waiting for a special occasion to spend the money, and that might have been the special occasion, unfortunately,” she said.

Jewelry with something from a dead relative?

“I say all you moms in the group probably have a snippet of your baby’s first hair cut taped in a baby book,” Dieterle said. “They just took it one step further.”

Just as they are now, mourning customs were a stable hand guiding people through difficult times, especially during the cholera outbreaks, Dieterle said.

“There were so many people dying during this and people didn’t know what to do, but they had to get through it somehow,” she said.

The wake

For the first 24 hours after an apparent death in the Victorian Age, relatives would sit with the body day and night just to make sure the person was actually dead. Cholera, for example, would often make people so dehydrated that they wouldn’t have enough fluid in their veins to detect a pulse.

“The term ‘wake’ came from the experience of watching the body to make sure they didn’t wake up,” said John Avery, a retired funeral director who plays undertaker for the group. “Before there was embalming — which began during the Civil War — on occasion, someone would fall asleep and be thought to have died when in fact they may have gone into a coma.

“And people were very afraid of being buried alive, so they would have someone sit and watch.”

If the dead person didn’t come back to life, the family would then wash the body, using a special solution of vinegar and alum to keep the person’s skin taut and prevent it from discoloring. The hands-on involvement was part of the family’s grieving process, Avery said.

During the wake, the dead person was the life of the party. The body would be laid out on ice and adorned with flowers as the centerpiece of a candlelit room in which family and friends would gather.

A second funeral

At the Lindells’ second funeral, mourners and people interested in learning about the rituals gathered at Hotchkiss Chapel at the cemetery. Bob Ruby played hymns on the organ — “Abide with Me” for the procession, “Jesus Loves Me” during the service and “Nearer My God to Thee” for the recessional — while Tom Allen played the part of a minister.

The funeral re-creation began with the 23rd Psalm and included comforting words about everlasting life at a time of widespread sorrow. The sermon was written by Avery, a retired diaconal minister in the United Methodist Church, who led a procession to the family plot.

Pallbearers carried two antique coffins to the burial site. A white child’s coffin represented the one that held Peter Lindell, who died in infancy; a larger coffin was for his mother, Nancy. The service ended with more words of faith and comfort.

Funeral attendees and viewers arrive at the gravesite during the Victorian-era funeral reenactment by the Mourning Society

All five of the Lindells died of cholera within a week of each other and were buried Aug. 30, 1866, at Bellefontaine Cemetery. They were part of the family that owned property along the boulevard that now bears their name.

The cemetery was established after a severe cholera outbreak in 1849. During the 1866 epidemic, which killed more than 3,200 people, the cemetery buried 200 victims in August alone, said Daniel Fuller, cemetery event and volunteer coordinator.

Nearly half of the 87,000 people buried at Bellefontaine were interred from the Victorian Era to just before World War I, and much of the cemetery, dotted by towering, centuries-old trees, has remained virtually unchanged, Fuller said.

“That’s what makes the setting out here so good for this,” he said.

The Lindell family plot looks virtually the same as it did in 1866, though cemetery caretakers added plants on nearby graves to reflect Victorian tradition. Family plots back then would be outlined with plantings done by relatives, often ivy, which symbolized permanence; fragrant herbs such as sage and rosemary that invoked particular memories; and flowers, white for children’s graves to represent innocence, and red roses for love.

For people who missed the Mourning Society’s funeral re-creation Saturday, fear not. It will return the first Saturday of October next year, with a different theme.

While Mourning Society events may not be for everyone, there are those who return every year, Dieterle said.

“When you put it to life, you see schoolkids’ eyes light up, and they start asking all these questions about what they’re seeing in front of them,” she said. “They’re not going to get that out of a book.”

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