Death and burial in remote Southern locales embodied a brace of bizarre traditions and superstitions that often persist to this day.
A solemn funeral procession slowly winds its way up a dry creek bed deep in the hills of Kentucky. Six overall-clad men carry a homemade coffin on their brawny shoulders. Behind is a grieving widow and children, followed by friends and family. There are no sleek black hearses here, no somber men in dark suits orchestrating every move. The body inside the coffin is probably not even embalmed. But this is how folks in Appalachia have buried their dead for hundreds of years. Bearing the coffin to the family cemetery on top of the mountain is the last act in a string of traditions, sometimes still followed in the mountains.
Traditions in Appalachia and the South are sometimes bound in superstition. The moment that a person dies, a whole series of customs shift into gear to speed the departed's trip to the hereafter, and to insure the well-being of those left behind. A century ago, these rituals were commonplace. Today, they are still being practiced in some areas.
Take, for instance, the practice of embalming. Preserving the body was not widely practiced before the Civil War. But the necessity of shipping battle dead long distances called for a cheap way to preserve the body during transit. Formaldehyde became the elixir of choice. Afterwards, funeral parlors began using the techniques learned during the war to preserve every client that crossed the threshold. But in the South, especially in the mountains, undertakers were as scarce as brass handles on a homemade coffin and the lack of embalming caused some bizarre problems.
There is more than one record of a body suddenly sitting up in the middle of the funeral service. The cause of this unnerving spectacle, of course, was rigor mortis or the stiffening of the muscles after death. Mary Seaver of Johnson City, Tennessee, remembered her grandmother telling her of the stubborn corpse of her great-grandfather suddenly rising in its coffin. The funeral was halted while some of the men in the congregation strained and sweated to get the old gentleman back into a supine position. When they got his back down, his legs rose. When they got his legs down, the rest of him rose. Finally, the lid was nailed down on the coffin and the service pressed on to a hasty conclusion.
Scottish immigrants had their own cure for rigor mortis, a process they called "saining". The oldest woman in the family burned a candle and waved it over the body three times. Then she scooped three handfuls of salt from a poke, placed it in a wooden bowl and placed the bowl upon the deceased's chest.
Another solution, especially useful if rigor mortis had already set in, was to pour warm water on the joints and rub like crazy. This counteracted the stiffness but when rigor mortis set back in -- and it usually did -- the body would tend to rise anyway.
The body was dressed in its Sunday best and laid out for viewing -- usually in the parlor. Coins were placed over the eyes to keep them shut. Then a cloth was tied around the jaw to keep it from flopping open and the arms were folded across the chest. Another towel, soaked in a strong soda solution, took care of discoloration. Spices or cedar chips, placed around the body, helped ward off any unpleasant odors, especially in summer.
While the was body was still in the house, certain precautions were taken to insure the welfare of the living. For instance, the body was always laid out on the first floor of the house, never on the second. If a step squeaked while the body was still under the roof, there would be a death in the family within a year. Likewise, all clocks were stopped immediately after a death. If a clock stopped of its own accord, another death would shortly occur.
Some people believed that the soul remained with the body 24 hours after death. Members of the family, or friends of the deceased, often chose to "sit up" with the body. This kept the soul company and prevented it from being whisked away by the devil.
Digging the grave was a solemn task reserved for family and friends. They dug the grave and filled it up after the funeral. Graves always faced the east toward the rising sun, the symbol of resurrection.
When a person died dictated when the grave was dug. If a person died at night or early in the morning, for example, the grave was dug after noon on the following day. It was bad luck to leave a freshly excavated grave open all night.
After the burial of her husband, the grieving widow was expected to enter a period of mourning. The traditional mourning garb, of course, was black. She gave away all her colored clothing because that was considered good luck. Once her wardrobe was absent, the widow then labored under a whole bevy of restrictions.
She could not court again until a year after the death of her husband, and not marry for two years after that. The widow was required to visit the grave of her late husband at least four times a week during mourning. She could not speak to another man, unless it was a member of her family or the preacher, until the grave was filled. She could not sing any song, unless it was a hymn. The widow could not participate in any kind of recreation. She was forbidden to eat cake, pie, candy, sip beer, whiskey, wine or any sweet drink except coffee. Nor was she allowed to smoke, chew tobacco or take snuff.
If a widow mourned for more than one year, it was bad luck. With restrictions like that hanging over her head, I would dare say that one year of serious lament was more than sufficient.
