Honouring the Dead in Gaelic Scotland – Part 1

Mar 29, 2024

Death seems to have been a major preoccupation of the ancient Celts. This probably has its origins in ancestor worship and the Cult of the Dead. However, the rituals honouring the dead in Gaelic Scotland, were far from gloomy. It was common practice to have a social gathering following the funeral, which of course is still done today, but without the enthusiasm the ancients displayed. The playing of tricks, leaping and riddle games as well as wrestling matches, were very much a part of the merrymaking at funerals. Copious amounts of alcohol were consumed, which, on occasion, led to violent outbursts followed by fisticuffs. As early as the 17th century these funeral games were banned by law but were ignored by many. It took the stern hand of the clergy to eventually put an end to these practices.

Funeral customs in the Highlands of Scotland varied from place to place, especially after the Reformation. However, many of the old beliefs were held in common. One of these was the notion that the spirit of the departed was strong and that it could be dangerous to the living under certain circumstances. In some districts people were convinced that the souls of the dead stayed close at hand until after burial. Consequently, the remains were watched day and night.

Naturalist and writer, Thomas Pennant, spent much time in 18th century Scotland, observing and writing about death customs.

“The body was stretched on a board and covered with a coarse linen wrapper; the relatives of the deceased then placed a platter on the breast of the corpse containing a small quantity of salt and earth, not mixed together but kept separate. The earth was symbolic of the corruptible body; the salt was the emblem of the indestructible Spirit. All fire was extinguished in the room in which the corpse lay.“

The traditional funeral procession was usually on foot, but on occasion, a horse drawn cart was used. There were up to 8 men who were charged with carrying the remains of the deceased. In certain parts of the Highlands and Islands, whenever the coffin rested, a cairn of stones was built to commemorate the individual who had passed on. If a horse drawn cart was used, it was customary for the earthly remains to be removed 3 times before arriving at the church. On each occasion, the horse was led in a sunwise position.

The funeral procession was accompanied by professional mourners or keeners. In Gaelic, they were known as bean tuirim, which means weeping women. Before the procession departed, these women would begin a song of lament. As the procession began, they would let out a loud cry, and along the way they would sing a coronach, which was the third part of a round of keening. The biggest display of grief occurred when the funeral procession arrived at the church. Praises of the deceased were sung, and the mourning women would beat their fists on the coffin.

Caidils Caidil

by Sìne McKenna

Renowned folklore collector, Alexander Carmichael, describes his experience, upon hearing the last keening woman, while visiting the remote Island of Barra, in the Western Isles. This took place sometime in middle to the late 19th century.

“The scene was remarkable; below and right before us on its tidal rock stood the magnificent ruin of Ciosmal Castle, the ancient residence of MacNeil of Barra, and beyond this for 12 miles out to sea lay one behind another, the isles of the Atlantic, usually wild and foamy, this day peaceful and calm as lambs tired of play.

The bean tuirim was tall and handsome, though somewhat gaunt and bony, with long features and long arms. At first, she was reluctant to sing, but by degrees she came to use her voice to the full and the result was striking in the extreme. She and I carried the body as it was carried in simple fashion on three staves by a man on either end of each. The woman rehearsed the grief, the bitter grief, of the winsome young widow, the bitter cries of young helpless children, asking who would now bring them the corn or the meal from the mill, the fish from the sea and the birds from the rocks.? Who indeed? No one now, since he was laid low. She then rehearsed the sorrows of the poor and the needy, the friendless and the aged, whom he had been wont to help.”

Due to clerical objection, keening disappeared in the Highlands and Islands. Its demise was hastened by leaders of the Presbyterian Church, who passed a church law in 1642, prohibiting the keening women from officiating at funerals. As they considered this time honoured, ancient death ritual, barbarous and pagan, they were determined to have it eradicated. It is believed that the bagpipe supplanted the vocal keen soon after.

The Irish clergy who were mostly Catholics, were less censorious about the art of keening, which may have been why it survived long enough to be recorded.

After the funeral, friends and family would gather at the home of the deceased. They were usually accompanied by harp, fiddle or bagpipe. Once everyone was assembled, it was the custom for the nearest of kin to open the Melancholy Ball. This was comprised of dancing and weeping. and would continue well into the wee hours of the morning.

Death portents were common among the people of Gaelic Scotland. Each clan had a special death messenger. The Campbells of Breadalbane would hear a bull roaring on a hillside. Strangely, as it ascended, its roar would grow fainter. The messenger for the MacLachlans was a bird. For the Clanranalds, a black dog. When a group of MacDonalds of Clanranald immigrated to Prince Edward Island in the 18th century, the people thought this omen would be left behind. However, before the death of the first MacDonald, the dog made his appearance.

Other omens announcing the coming of death, included strange whistling sounds, unearthly lights, as well as odd knocks at the door. Screaming, wailing, or sobbing. were heard, with no identifiable source.

One of the most compelling stories I have heard associated with death warnings, was from a woman on the Island of South Uist in the Western Isles. In her own words:

“One night, I was awakened from a deep sleep by the sound of the pipes. I got out of my bed and followed the music which seemed to be coming from outside my window. The road was well lit by the moon, that night. Who did I see but my own brother, walking up and down the road playing the pipes? When I awoke in the morning, I telephoned my Mother to ask why my brother was disturbing the neighborhood in the middle of the night, something he was most certainly not in the habit of doing.”

After her mother explained that she knew for a fact that her brother had never left his bed, the storyteller felt a shiver run through her, but brushed it off. A few weeks later her brother passed away. The tune that was played at the graveside was the same tune she had heard him playing on the night in question.

Part II to follow