The Lure and Lore
of the Graveyard
by Susan Pesznecker
One of the most entertaining moments in my recent Pagan travels came during a private “ghost tour” in Seattle, Washington. At one point late in the tour, the guide launched into a description of an old cemetery that had partially been torn up for a housing development, not an uncommon practice, but in this case, the graves had not been relocated—they were simply paved over. Surprisingly, she said, the site had remained peaceful, albeit, she emphasized, with a change in her voice, very active.
This caught our attention, so we were excited when moments later when the van stopped at that very cemetery, and our guide told us we’d be free to check it out. Presumably, most of her usual customers were reticent about walking into a cemetery where the spirits were known to be alive and well, for before opening the van doors, she suggested we gather at the roadside and enter the graveyard together, carefully. Imagine her surprise when we more or less bolted from the van and scampered into the cemetery grounds—not in disrespect but in excitement over the chance to experience a site still alive with spirit. Our guide was entranced. “This has never happened before,” she told us.
It turned out to be a wonderful experience. The cemetery indeed felt active, and we sensed a number of individual presences as we walked among the stones. We were excited but respectful, walking carefully between the plots, tracing the lettering on the markers, talking quietly to the people there, and leaving pebbles on the headstones in tribute. The lure of the cemetery had captured us all.
We all know that graveyards are places where the dead are buried. The term “graveyard” is most often associated with a burial site adjacent to a church; as early as the eighth-century bce, most churches and cathedrals had their own graveyards out behind the church buildings. In those times, burial in the graveyard was reserved for those who could not afford burial “within” the church itself. The famous, wealthy, or socially important were buried in crypts in or beneath the church and the sites marked with elaborately carved stones. A crypt, according to Greek origins, is a concealed, private stone chamber that is typically located underneath a larger structure or building. The very nature of a crypt is its privacy and its permanence; one who is interred in a crypt is expected to remain there—in perpetual rest—forever. A wonderful example of this is in England’s Westminster Abbey, where even today one can visit the burial tombs of Charles Darwin, Isaac Newton, Edmund Spenser, and others within the Abbey itself.
For those relegated to the outdoor, less personal graveyard, it became customary to engage stonemasons to carve headstones for the deceased. The simplest stones might have only a name and date, while more expensive ones were of precious stone—such as marble—and featured tribute sayings, symbols, and scrollwork. Wood and iron markers were sometimes used, too. In general, the more elaborate and the larger the marker, the more status the dearly departed typically enjoyed. When it came to headstones, size mattered.
Today’s graveyards are more often called cemeteries—derived from the Greek koimētērion, “dormitory,” to “put to sleep” or “a place to sleep.” Cemeteries are typically not connected to a specific church and in today’s times are often sited in beautiful locations with lush natural settings or extraordinary views. Cemeteries came into vogue around the eighteenth century when the rapidly increasing population overwhelmed available space in church graveyards and when graveyards were feared to be associated with outbreaks of communicable diseases. Today’s cities and townships invariably have a carefully written set of rules and regulations governing the location, layout, and capacity of cemeteries.
In the past, when graveyards gave way to cemeteries and were closed to further occupancy, graves were sometimes exhumed—dug up—and the bones moved to crypts or catacombs. A catacomb is an underground cemetery characterized by a tunnel network with recesses for burial—either full-body tombs or collections of bones, ashes, or other remains. Catacombs are named for the catacumbas, the original subterranean cemetery of St. Sebastian near Rome. One of the best-known examples are the Catacombs of Paris in Paris, France, where the artfully arranged skulls and bones of some six million people can be viewed and visited. The Paris catacombs are an example of an ossuary, a room or container in which bones of one or more dead people are stored and sometimes displayed. A reliquary is a special type of ossuary that holds relics—typically bones, teeth, ashes, body parts, or personal belongings of saints or other once-holy people.
When a monument is built around or over one or more interred bodies, it is called a mausoleum—named for Mausōlos, the name of a king of Caria (fourth century bce) who was entombed in Halicarnassus. The Mausoleum of Halicarnassus, built between 353 and 350 bce as a tomb for the king and his wife, is one of the Seven Wonders of the Ancient World. In contrast, a cenotaph is, literally, an empty tomb—a monument enacted to one or more dead but in which case no bodies or burials are present. War memorials are excellent modern examples of the cenotaph.
The Draw of the Dead
Details aside, we humans seem to be inexorably drawn to places of the dead. Those who have lost loved ones visit their burial places in order to feel an enduring connection or closeness. We visit memorials—cenotaphs—to commemorate events and honor the heroic dead. We tour old graveyards and trace the headstones as a means of studying the history and lore of a place. And, in some cases, we visit out of pure fascination—out of the idea that spirits may linger and that we may have a conversation with the dearly departed. This is where the lure of the graveyard comes in.
Death, of course, has its own folklore and its own traditions. Before the body is buried, cremated, or otherwise dealt with, it rests in a morgue or mortuary, words linked to the old Latin mortem, “death.” Mortuaries and morgues are typically set aside behind two or more series of closed doors, with the intention that the dead be left in peace and that the living not accidentally stumble in. The morgue sometimes is often as place for identifying bodies and for this purpose may include a “room of rest” in which the dearly departed can be arranged in a bed to make the experience less jarring for his or her survivors.
One of the most interesting bits of death-lore has to do with burial roads, the roads that connected remote towns and communities with places of legally licensed burial. The dead were carried along these roads from their death-place to their burials. Also called corpse roads, church roads, church-ways, or coffin routes, the paths often had colorful names and were well-known to the locals. Puck’s words in Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream reference the church roads:
Now it is the time of night,
That the graves all gaping wide,
Every one lets forth his sprite,
In the church-way paths to glide.
According to historical novelist Deborah Swift, coffins were often carried along the corpse roads by hand, for most remote heath-dwellers lacked the money to provide for a horse and carriage. However they were transported, their bodies were always carried with feet pointing away from their homes; otherwise, the superstitious feared the dead might remember the way home. Mary Ellen Stubb adds that carrying the corpse feet-first also kept him from looking back and inviting another family member to follow. Corpse roads often crossed a bridge over moving water, which it was believed the dead spirits could not re-cross. The roads likewise avoided fields, for carrying a dead body across a field could render it infertile.
Church-ways were often associated with the vigorous movement of sprites, faeries, wraiths, and ghosts, and legends tell of strange lights—usually described as globes of blue or white—along the roads. Sometimes these were referred to as will-o’-the-wisps, mischievous spirits that attempted to startle or frighten travelers in hopes of seeing them lose their way. Nigel Pennick describes the concept of “hungry grass” growing along the corpse roads. If a coffin was set down temporarily, grass would spring up overnight, and anyone standing on the grassy patch thereafter would become instantly and ferociously hungry.
Most corpse roads were rather straight—following a plain path rather than a circuitous one—and some believe that what we know as ley lines or “rose lines” may, in some cases, mark ancient corpse roads (Bord and Bord). Upon reaching the graveyard, coffins were often carried around the property three times in hopes of confusing any wandering spirits—or the dearly departed himself. Stubb notes that funeral processions never left a graveyard along the same route they’d approached in hopes of obfuscating any spirits that might tag along. The curves of ancient stone, hedge, and turf labyrinths may have been built near townships in an effort to confuse and impede wandering spirits. Today’s modern funeral processions—and the typical winding roads that wend through cemeteries—may be remnants of these arcane practices.
Another road-related legend is that of the crossroad, a place where two or more roads intersect or cross one another. The crossroad is felt to be a place of potent magick, of confusion, of transitions and thresholds, and of spirit visitation—even by the devil himself. Death is often described as a type of human crossroad, and the corpse-roads invariably avoided creating or following crossroads at any point along their paths. Even today, cemeteries will add side roads or create branching “Ys” so as to avoid creating a crossroad, and funeral processions are mapped out to avoid crossroads.
Customs Continue Today
And of course, there are any number of smaller customs, rituals, and folkloric expressions in terms of graveyards and cemeteries. According to Stubb, one must hold her breath when passing a graveyard or cemetery; otherwise, a wandering spirit is liable to enter with the next inhalation. Weeds growing on a grave are a testament to the dead one having lived an evil life, while flowers on the grave mean just the opposite. Speaking ill of the dead is always felt to be a bad idea, but doing so in a graveyard or cemetery is almost guaranteed to invite wandering or malevolent spirits. Headstones were felt in the past to help weigh down spirits and prevent their emergence, and placing “visitor stones” on the headstone added to this effect. Today, placing pebbles or small stones on a headstone pays tribute to the departed and notes that a loved one visited.
Although these arcane traditions seem unusual, many remain in practice. Even today, people are generally buried with heads to the west and feet to the east. This was originally believed to echo the Pagan practice of following the Sun’s movements; Christians would later claim this practice by stating the final judgment day would come from the east. And when driving past a cemetery, people still fall silent and cross their fingers, hoping to avoid attracting the attention of the local spirits.
While some try to avoid any spiritual connection with the dead, others seek it out. Dirt gathered from crossroads, graveyards, or cemeteries is useful in sympathetic magicks, creating a close connection with the dead. Graveyard and crossroad dirt may also be used in shamanic or astral journeying, both to access the spirit world and to create an anchor for return. Graveyards and cemeteries are also powerful places for any type of divination. It’s widely believed that midnight—the so-called witching hour—is the most potent magickal time within a graveyard or cemetery, and Samhain, the time when the veils between living and dead go thin, is probably peak time. But don’t fool yourself. If you feel stronger working in the high dark or on certain dates, so be it. Just know that the dead are there 24/7, as are the spirits and energies of the place.
If you visit a graveyard today, show respect to those who sleep beneath you as well as to the roaming spirits. Walk between—not over—the graves. Speak quietly, and don’t run. Listen for voices. Be aware of those who share the space, whether above or below the ground. Pull weeds from the plots, and leave tribute stones on the grave markers. And be certain to walk in a circular path, leaving the cemetery via a different route than the way you entered. After all, you wouldn’t want anyone to follow you home….
For Further Study:
Definitions and etymologies were taken from the Oxford English Dictionary, third edition.
Bord, Janet, and Colin Bord. The Secret Country. London: Paul Leek. 1976.
“Legendary Dartmoor.” No date. http://www.legendarydartmoor.co.uk/coffin_stone.htm.
Les Catacombes. No date. http://www.catacombes.paris.fr/en/catacombs.
“Mausoleum of Halikarnassos (Room 21).” The British Museum. No date. http://www.britishmuseum.org/explore/galleries/ancient_greece_and_rome/room_21_halikarnassos.aspx.
Pennick, Nigel. Celtic Sacred Landscapes. London: Thames & Hudson, 1996.
Stubb, Mary Ellen. “Cemetery Folklore. The Lighter Side of the Grave.” No date. http://www.ci.missoula.mt.us/DocumentCenter/Home/View/8206.