Whispers from the grave- The Folklore of Death In Shropshire

One of the most captivating things about Folklore is its scope, it provides us with a snapshot, an insight into the human experience, from the cradle to the grave. Such systems of belief underpin life in a particular culture or social group and thus, provide us with a unique insight into the attitudes and fears of a community. Though fluid, folklore certainly is insightful, especially with regard to the prevailing concerns of a particular group historically. It also develops new meaning as we reinterpret it in our own time. There is something so exciting about accessing these historical customs, they allow us to consider their importance and impact as well as their legacy. How can they gain meaning through our modern lens? Can they be tools for our own experiences? It’s a wonderful to think that we can connect with those who came before us through folklore.

I would argue that some of the most interesting folkloric systems of belief are found in the folklore of death. This is especially the case in Shropshire, as the county has a great body of folklore concerning death and its many facets, including ideas surrounding a ‘good death’ and burial. This will be the subject of the following article, as we consider the folklore of death and its role in everyday life. This will be no means an exhaustive account and also only represents the beliefs that were recorded. It is a difficult task to quantify belief in something as intangible as folklore, however we know that at different stages in its history, such folklore was prevalent enough to be deemed worthy of recording. The folklore of death is powerful for many reasons, especially because it allowed people of the past to make meaning out of the complexities of the world around them, as well as providing a control of sorts to the ungovernable forces of nature.

Shropshire’s folklore of death and dying is a vast subject. As you shall soon see, it served as a conduit, a means of channelling one’s grief, even conceptualising it, a source of light in the darkest of times. In Shropshire you can loosely sort such customs into two categories, death omens and the more general beliefs surrounding death and dying; the latter includes funeral folklore too. These beliefs provided a proper set of rules that when followed could aid the grieving process, as well as serving the practical purpose of preventing the household or area from gaining a ghost.  Belief in ghosts or ‘sperrets’ if we are to turn to the dialect, played a prominent role in everyday life and thus, many of the superstitions surrounding death in Shropshire serve as a means of reducing the chance of a haunting. By following the rules, it allowed people to feel as if they were aiding the dead in their travel across the veil. Let us now look deeper at such beliefs, beginning with omens of death, and explore the powerful world of death folklore in our Shropshire context.

A common death omen throughout British folklore can be seen within the animal kingdom. Certainly, in Shropshire, a number of animals take on the mantle of death omens. These include magpies, ravens, bats, and moths, who were all associated with an impending death. If you saw a single raven croaking, this was a sign someone you knew was about to die. Similarly, if you noticed ravens flying over a house, it was a sign that the inhabitants were about to experience a loss. If you found a mouse or rat gnawing at your clothes, it foretold your imminent passing. The persistent howling of a dog also symbolised death, as the dog’s noises were foreshadowing the mourning process. Even cows were potential death omens, as it was said that a cow lowing three times in your face was a sign that you, or someone you loved was soon to pass over. To dream of an animal could signify a bereavement. For example, in Welshampton and much of North Shropshire, to dream of a white horse signified death. Similarly, if you dreamt that someone was stood near that horse, this was a sign that they would pass over.

The smallest creatures could also signify a passing. For example, bees held interesting associations with death, with a number of beliefs attached to them. This includes the practice of ‘telling the bees’ of a death in the household. I have written about this practice in length in previous articles, however it’s worth noting that it was fairly widespread across Shropshire well into the 19^th century.  It was also believed that if a single bee entered the household, it was a sign that one of the members of that family would soon perish. If the bee entered the house not long after a death, this was an indicator that the property had gained a spirit, and a haunting would soon commence. Furthermore, if one saw a number of bees swarming on the side of a house, it was a sign that someone in that family was soon to pass. In area’s such as Worthen, the cricket held similar significance. If a cricket was found in the home, it was a clear death omen for that household. In the Wenlock area, if a cricket was heard chirping three times in succession, death was soon to follow.

It’s interesting when looking at these omens that they often quote fairly innocuous circumstances. This should not be seen as proof that Shropshire folk were overly superstitious or intellectually inferior. Rather, gives us an insight into the grieving process. We often seek meaning or structure in the irregularities of nature. Death, especially unexpected death is such a shock to the system that it leaves many looking for the answer, turning to some sort of explanation, a cause to the chain of events. Thus, if something slightly out of the ordinary happened, such as the dog howling long into the night, it is tempting to allow this to fill in the logical gaps left by the loss. It’s an explanation, albeit an imperfect one, which may provide comfort or a sense of order, we need something to help us explain. Even today we look for signs and symbols which may aid our decision making, horoscopes and oracle cards are just some of our ways to govern the ungovernable. We turn to lucky items or numbers for exams or big decisions. There is little difference between us, and them.

To return to death omens, birds are the subject of much symbolism. Owls are particularly prevalent, with their otherworldly quality and uncanny appearance. If an owl flew against the window, it was a sign that death was about to pay a visit to the household. Furthermore, If there was a sick person in the village, people would begin to look to the night for knowledge of what was to come. If they noticed that the owls were more present, hooting louder and more frequently than usual, with a sigh they would say-

‘Ahhh, I reckon so and so will be going soon… them owls know’.

This paints owls as an intermediary between worlds, with knowledge of the unseen things, perhaps even aiding people in their journey beyond the veil. I think this belief hints at a much older, perhaps even pre-Christian concept, or some form of hybrid belief.

Nightjars were also birds of death. Sometimes Shropshire folk referred to them as ‘Lych-Fowls’ or ‘Corpse-Fowls’ and their haunting nocturnal calls were often seen to signify an imminent passing. Interestingly the Robin has also at times been associated with death. Charlotte Burne discusses a woman who had a curious relationship with the bird. She stated that whenever the robin appeared in or around the household, it meant a member of her family would pass. She told Burne that this had happened a number of times, and was a belief held by others within her community.

If we move away from animals now, there are further examples of omens of death in Shropshire. One of the most interesting is known as ‘The Knocks of Death’. It was believed in Shropshire that you should pay attention to the things that go bump in the night, as they were almost always an ill omen. The most ominous of these were the Knocks of Death, which involved hearing three loud bangs on your door, whilst no one was present. The Knocks of Death were a sign that death had either claimed your loved one, or that someone close to you was soon to pass. Interestingly, I’ve come across a few people in my time as a folklorist who claim to have experienced similar phenomena prior to the death of a loved one, both in Shropshire and further afield.

Clocks have a number of associations with death in the county. It was suggested that if a clock fell off the wall rather unexpectedly, it was a sign of imminent death, in some variations within seven days. Furthermore, if a clock stopped at the house of someone’s death, it signified that the spirit had left the body, and also in certain pocket of the county that the household had gained a ghost.

A very curious death omen I have found quoted in a few books written in the 19^th century concerns hunger. This states that if a person gets a sudden, extreme craving for food it should be taken as a death omen, as it signifies the grave is hungry. Death omens are so exciting to study as a folklorist as they signify the attitudes towards death, and that as a collective people were engaging with the subject and trying to conceptualise it. At certain times during the 19^th century, the mortality rate was high, thus such systems of belief signify the prevalence of death, as well as individuals trying to understand their loss through the context of their known world.

Chirbury Church is the site of a number of death omens. Indeed, folklore even suggests that upon visiting, you can gain the knowledge of who is soon to die. If you attend Chirbury Churchyard on Halloween, you must walk around the building twelve times (anti clockwise of course) and then wait until midnight. At midnight, whilst sitting on the church steps, you will hear a roll call of all those souls who will die before the following Halloween. 

On Halloween 1788, two men decided to try this custom. Indeed, after spending some time drinking and making merry, they descended on Chirbury Churchyard to find out who would die. The plan was to make a note of the names and run up a series of debts with the people, knowing they would never need to pay the money back. Brilliant! In a drunken stupor they made up their mind and completed the ritual. Sure enough, after midnight they began to hear a raspy voice read out a list of names, which went on for some time. Suddenly, their blood ran cold, panic made their heart pound in their chest.

 One of the names that had been called out was the brother of one of the men, and the best friend of the other. They ran from the Churchyard to his house and banged firmly on his door. After three knocks, he came down, bleary eyed from having been woken. The drunken men explained everything and told him that they’d heard his name. As one can imagine, he was far from happy, and told them he had no intension of dying, casting them away from his home, telling them to sober up.

A week later, he was dead. The men never visited the Churchyard again, and never spoke of their experience. I find this folk tale a wonderful addition to the discourse surrounding death omens in Shropshire, and one can only wonder if the omen is true.

Let us now turn to the folklore of death and dying, which includes funeral customs in Shropshire. These superstitions were seen as a means of controlling the outcome of a passing, providing the individual with a ‘good death’ and ensuring that their spirit passed beyond the veil uninterrupted. We will follow these superstitions from death bed to the grave, to gain a deeper understanding of the place of superstition in Shropshire.

The death bed itself was the focus of a number of superstitions, which were seen as universal truths in Shropshire. For example, it was generally accepted that people cannot die when the moon is rising, and death would only occur when the moon had passed its fullest. Furthermore, it was generally believed that a person couldn’t die on a bed made of pheasant feathers or indeed any wild fowl. The pillows and mattress should be filled with any other material than this. Charlotte Burne recalls an anecdote regarding a Shropshire woman whose husband was passing away. It seemed that he was having a slow, drawn-out death, causing the family much pain to witness. Then she remembered that her husbands bed was stuffed with pheasant feathers, so she quickly pulled the poor man off his bed, and lay him on the floor, where he soon died peacefully. The woman told Burne that it was only after she had removed him from the bed that he could die, noting that ‘he went off as nice and easy as you please!’

It was believed that upon the hour of death, all of the doors and windows must be opened wide, to ‘let the soul go free’. By opening the windows and the doors, it allowed the soul to leave the building and not be trapped, thus preventing a ghost. Similarly, it was discouraged from standing at the foot of a dying persons bed as the spirit would find it difficult to enter the afterlife.

In Shropshire, the dead were usually kept within the home until the morning of the funeral. After a person had died, their relatives would enter the room and say goodbye to their loved one. During this time, it was thought prudent to place a hand on the deceased, as this would sever the bond with the dead, ensuring that they wouldn’t haunt your dreams. Holding the hand of the dead was seen to have healing powers and could cure a number of ailments. Whilst the dead lay in state candles would be burned all around the deceased and watched over to try and stop the spirits from blowing them out. The burning candles were seen as another preventative measure against ghosts. In some parts of Shropshire, a small plate of salt was laid upon the breast of the dead, which was said to prevent the corpse from swelling, as well as drive away evil spirits.

As previously mentioned, after a person’s death an important ritual had to be enacted, ‘telling the bees’ of course. This saw a member of the deceased’s family heading to the hives (which many Shropshire folk had some form of) and informing the bees of the person’s passing. It was deemed proper to tell the bees all sorts of important occasions, such as births and weddings but especially deaths. On the day of the funeral, the bees were also told, and provided offerings of beer and funeral cakes. Interestingly, there are several examples of this ritual in recent history, such as after the death of Sam Rogers in 1961. Sam Rogers was a bee keeper from Myddle and after his death, his family told the bees, which totalled 14 hives worth. On the day of his funeral, rather miraculously his bees attended the graveside, and settled on the flowers. Perhaps they felt that they needed to say goodbye to their keeper. A similar event was reported in 1994 in Ludlow, where several hives of bees gathered on the corner of the street near the churchyard during their keeper’s funeral. As well as telling the bees, the rooks must also be informed of a death. In Church Stretton the farm horses were also told, and not worked until after the funeral. In Ludlow, it was believed that the fowl hid themselves and did not lay, out of respect for the deceased, until after the funeral.  I find all of these customs incredibly lovely and show sense of respect and interplay between us and the natural world.

In some parts of Shropshire, there was a belief that the spirit didn’t leave the earth until around 40 days after the body’s death. During this time the closest family members would be subjected to the sensation that they dead were ever present, and still around them. This would abate after the forty days and allow the mourning process to truly begin. Charlotte Burne is rather critical of this belief, equating it to lack of education, but I think it is not only rather lovely, but it attempts to communicate the first stages of grief, that sense of disbelief surrounding your loss, but also how simple things can remind you of your loved one. It emphasizes the connection between individuals, which is sometimes so profound and difficult to explain. After this period, it was believed that excessive signs of mourning should be avoided, as these actively harm or upset the spirit in the afterlife. This could potentially hinder them passing over, leaving them lingering on as a ghost. This could potentially be linked to certain Victorian attitudes towards death or displays of emotion, but also it reminds us in working class or agrarian households, life couldn’t stop because of a loss, and that people would still need to continue life as it was before, regulating their grief to their most private moments. This is certainly not to suggest that people didn’t feel grief, rather the way in which they expressed it was contained. One could argue that even now, we struggle to articulate our grief and feelings of loss so perhaps this belief is similar.

Once preparation for the funeral had finished, superstition dictated that the corpse must be carried out of the home feet first, to stop the dead following their feet back home and begin haunting. Similarly, it was generally accepted that a funeral should travel down an unfamiliar road, to stop the spirit from returning home. It was especially useful if the road the procession travelled down had a crossroads, to confuse the spirits.  A funeral should also avoid entering the churchyard by the same entrance as a wedding, to prevent bad luck.

As soon as the coffin had been taken out of the home for the funeral, it was important to rearrange the furniture, especially the furniture that was used to support the coffin. There were several ways in which one might do this, from rearranging the deceased’s room completely, so it would appear unfamiliar to them in the event their return, or even upturning the furniture straight. This would not only prevent a haunting but would also ensure that another death wouldn’t occur within the week.

Let us now turn to the customs surrounding the funeral. The funeral procession would generally be encouraged to carry rosemary. This was due in part to its rich symbolism. Rosemary traditionally symbolises remembrance, friendship, and loyalty, so it appears a fitting tribute to the deceased. After the ceremony, mourners would place the rosemary in the grave, as a sign of respect for the dead.

As the funeral procession would often follow its path through the village, Shropshire folk would gather, and lay out tables in the street, providing small amounts of refreshments for the mourners. The tables were used for the coffin bearers to ‘lay down their burden’ for a moment of rest and reflection before they continued their journey. Though this isn’t strictly a superstition, you cannot help but be moved by such a practice. In Edgmond if a young unmarried woman or child died, people would don white attire, (perhaps a nod to their purity) and also wear a white hood or veil whilst paying their respects. This must have been a particularly poignant sight.

In Edgemond, Quatford and Morville there was a practice known affectionately as ‘The joy bells’ or ‘Ringing the Dead home’. This is perhaps my favourite custom associated with death in the region. Instead of the sombre intonations of the usual funeral bell, all of the church bells would be rang in the same fashion to that of a wedding. These sounds would continue throughout the procession, until the coffin reached the lyche gate. It was believed to fortuitous to the living and respectful to the dead to welcome them to their new home, their final resting place. This superstition is interesting because it postulates that death should be a celebration, and that by dying the person was going to a better, more fitting place, that we should encourage them on their final journey.

In other areas the tolling of the church bell was seen as the best way to chase the Devil away from the ceremony, as he would endeavour to claim the soul of the deceased.

During the funeral, the following maxim was generally believed:

‘Happy was the bride that the sun shines on,

And happy is the corpse that the rain falls on’.

Certainly, superstition dictated that if rain fell on the coffin during the funeral, it was a sure sign that the dead was happy during the afterlife.  One must be careful with tears however, as if tears fell on the coffin, the dead would not rest easy, coming back to haunt their loved ones. It was generally considered bad luck to leave a freshly dug grave open on a Sunday, as it was inviting further death into the parish. Moreover, a grave shouldn’t be left open during a wedding, as this could inspire the early death of the bride. The juxtaposition of these two life events would have been highly symbolic in the minds of those who held these beliefs.

Whilst on the subject of eternal rest, there were a number of superstitions associated with burial in Shropshire. For example, it was generally accepted to be unlucky to be the first soul buried in a churchyard, as this soul was usually claimed by ‘Owd Scratch’, the Devil. People would go to great lengths to try and be buried in an established graveyard. It was also bad luck to be buried near any fairy rings in a graveyard, such as those that form naturally in Market Drayton churchyard. A popular belief consistent across the county stated that the last soul to be buried in a churchyard would become its guardian, until the next soul passed. Some spirits took this job very seriously, becoming fierce defenders of the grounds.

This is by no means an exhaustive account of the Shropshire’s folklore of death, but upon looking at these beliefs, we begin to understand the richness of tradition in the county. Our death folklore provided the foundations to ensure that the dead passed beyond the veil but also, they provided a structure, a pattern that if followed could help manoeuvre people through their grief. Though a belief in ghosts certainly held prominence in the county, I think that death folklore goes beyond inhibiting a haunting. It is deeply personal and conveys a love and respect which transcends the grave. By studying these beliefs, we gain access to Individual spheres of belief, and are reminded that overwhelmingly, those who came before us, were just like us. They wanted to remember and be remembered.