As might be expected, very many ancient superstitious ideas have lingered round the three great events of man’s life—his birth, marriage, and death. They took shape in various customs which were handed down from one generation to another long after the beliefs underlying them had ceased to exist in the popular mind. But now the traditional customs themselves are fast disappearing, whilst often their original significance is a matter only to be explained by the most learned folklorists. Here and there a new meaning has been grafted on to an old practice, which makes the old usage sound rational, and prolongs its life. For instance, in some districts, the first food given to a newly-born baby is a spoonful of butter and sugar, administered as wholesome, and even necessary medicine; but according to scholars, the practice was in origin a religious rite, belonging to remote antiquity. Again, it is popularly regarded as unlucky to cut a baby’s nails before it is a year old, because if this was done the baby would most certainly grow up a thief. If the nails need to be shortened, they must be bitten or pulled off. The real reason why the baby’s fingers must not come in contact with the scissors, is a fear respecting the baneful effect of iron, which has its source in the Dark Ages of primitive man, cp. ‘Professor Rhys believes aversion to iron to be a survival of the feeling implanted in man’s early life, when all metals were new, and hence to be avoided.... The same dread of iron has doubtless given rise to the custom throughout Europe regarding children’s nails. Everywhere, including England, it is the practice to bite off the infant’s nails if too long, and not to cut them, at least for the first year, or until the child, who is peculiarly open to the attacks of all malignant influences, has grown strong,’ F.T. Elworthy, The Evil Eye, 1895, p. 224. Further, Mr. Elworthy tells us that the habit of covering up a new-born baby’s face whenever it is taken out of the house, said to be a necessary protection against the rigour of the outer air, may be referred to the ‘primaeval belief in the liability of infants to the blighting effect of the stranger’s eye,’ The Evil Eye, p. 428.

Much is supposed to depend upon which day of the week a child is born. The following rhyme is well known, though it varies slightly in different localities; this is a Devonshire version:

For Latin and O.E. versions of this v. ‘Wochentags-Geburtsprognosen,’ by Prof. Max FÖrster in Archiv fÜr das Studium der neueren Sprachen und Literaturen, Band 128, Heft 3/4, June 1912. The cradle provided for the baby must be paid for before it is brought into the house, else the child that sleeps in it will die without means to pay for a coffin (Yks.). Another curious superstition concerning a cradle is that should any one rock an empty cradle another baby will shortly come to occupy it (Shr. Sus. Cor.): Rock the cradle empty, You’ll rock the babies plenty. When possible, a new-born child before being laid beside the mother was placed in the arms of a maiden. This was thought to have a beneficial influence on the development of its character. It is still held important that the first time an infant leaves the mother’s room it should be taken upstairs, not down. If there is no upper story, then the nurse mounts upon a chair, or some other article of furniture, with the baby in her arms; for if its first step in the world is a descent, then its subsequent career in life will be a downward course. This custom was observed in the case of a baby born a fortnight ago in Oxford, June3, 1912, in a highly superior family. In Cumberland a child born on a Friday was always placed on the Bible shortly after its birth, no doubt with intent to secure it against the power of fairies. We have already noticed some of the ceremonies for warding off evil beings. One of these observances, formerly in use in the north of Scotland, was to turn an infant three times head over heels in the nurse’s arms, and shake it three times head downwards, to keep off fairies. Both in Scotland and in many parts of England a notion prevailed that it was unlucky to wash the palms of a baby’s hands, for if washed, they would never ‘gather riches’. Sometimes this rule was observed till the baby was a year old.

In some districts it is still the custom to provide a feast on the occasion of the birth of a child for all the friends and neighbours who come to assist or to congratulate. This festive gathering is known under various names, for example: the bed-ale (sw.Cy.), the word ale being used in its old meaning of feast, cp. lit. Eng. bridal, from O.E. br?d-ealu, literally, the bride-feast. Sometimes, however, the term is wrongly applied to the liquor prepared for these occasions, which, properly speaking, is the groaning-drink. The blithe-meat (Sc. Irel.), where amongst the viands was always a cheese, called the cryin’-oot cheese; the cummer-skolls (Sh. & Or.I.); the merry-meal (Chs.), where the chief items were currant cakes called Lord Ralph, and spirits of which all must partake to bring good luck to the new arrival; the merry-meat (ne.Sc.), where was served the cryin’-bannock made of oatmeal, milk, and sugar, and baked in a frying-pan, and beside it the indispensable cheese, or cryin’-kebback, of which each guest was expected to carry away a piece for distribution among friends who were not present at the entertainment; the shout (Yks.), to which the neighbours were summoned at the moment when the birth was about to take place, and to which they came each with a warming-pan. After the event, they stayed to spend a festive hour, when each guest was expected to favour the child with a good wish. In more modern times this custom of celebrating a birth by a convivial gathering is commonly spoken of in northern England as: the head-washing, or: weshin’ t’bairn’s head, and is not so much a feast as a free drinking.

The old north-country toast drunk at the birth-feast was: The wife a good church-going and a battening to the bairn; or: Here’s good battening to t’barn, and good mends to the mother!

The groaning-cheese seems to have been everywhere a standing dish at the birth-feast. Formerly it was the practice to cut it in the middle, and so by degrees form it into a large kind of ring through which the child was drawn on the day of the christening (n.Cy. Oxf.). A slice of it laid under the pillow was supposed to enable a maiden to dream of her lover. The remains of the cheese and cake were kept for subsequent callers, and every visitor was expected to taste them. A special Cumberland dainty belonging to birth festivities is run-butter, or rum-butter, fresh butter melted with brown sugar and rum, poured into china bowls, where it stiffens, and out of which it is served, generally with havver [oat] breed. The lady who first cuts into the bowl is predicted to require a similar compliment. At one time it was customary to hide the bowl of rum-butter and allow it to be searched for by boys, who, having found it and eaten its contents, made a collection of money, which was put by for the baby in whose honour the delicacy had been made.

A custom once common in nearly all the northern counties of England—and still extant at the end of last century—was that of presenting a new-born infant with three articles ‘for luck’, the first time it visited a neighbour or relation. The gifts usually consisted of an egg, a handful of salt, and a new sixpence, but sometimes a piece of bread, or a bunch of matches was substituted for the coin. In Lancashire and Yorkshire this ceremony was known as puddinging; in Durham the gifts were termed: the bairn’s awmous, cp. O.N. almusa, an alms. On the day of the christening somewhat similar gifts were made by the parents on behalf of the child. Before the procession started for church, a parcel was made up containing a slice of the christening cake, some cheese, and a packet of salt. This was called the christening bit (Sc. n.Cy.), or kimbly (Cor.). It was presented to the first person met on the way to church, and it was considered specially lucky if that person chanced to be of the opposite sex to the infant. In parts of Scotland the receiver was always the first male passer-by. He constituted the child’s first-foot, and if he was a dark-haired man it augured well for the child’s future, but if fair-haired, then the reverse. After the church service came the christening feast at home, with its special cakes, and dishes such as butter-sops (Cum. Wm.), oatcake or wheaten bread fried in melted butter and sugar. Then the child’s health would be drunk with some such formula as the following: Wissin’ the company’s gueede health, an’ grace and growin’ to the bairn (ne.Sc.).

The ceremony of private baptism is never considered equal to public baptism in church. A child baptized privately is said to have been half-baptized (w.Midl. Oxf. Ken. Sus.), or named (e.An.), e.g. He wasn’t ever christened, only named. Indeed, the term half-baptized is sometimes used as an epithet applied to persons of deficient intellect, equivalent to half-baked. It is held lucky for the baby to cry during some part of the baptismal service, the utterance of one good yell being the most favourable omen. If a male and a female infant are presented for baptism at the same time, the boy must be baptized first, else he will grow up effeminate, and play second fiddle to his wife; and the girl will become masculine in face and mien (Yks.).

Most of the rural wedding customs belong to the days when, in accordance with the popular maxim: Better wed over the mixen [dunghill] than over the moor, the bride’s old home with her parents, and the new one she was to share with her husband were both within walking distance of the church where the wedding took place. Then all the neighbours were the friends of both bride and bridegroom, they had all grown up together with the same local traditions, and they all clung to the observance of the same ceremonies. Now railways and bicycles, newspapers and cheap magazines, have broken down the old order of things. The bridegroom’s friends and relations are often complete strangers to the bride’s kith and kin, their ways and beliefs are unknown to each other. They cannot join together in some time-honoured ceremonial when the newly-wedded pair enter their future home; instead they wave hats and handkerchiefs in the wake of a train or a motor which is carrying the couple to a distant dwelling-place. The bride, too, has up-to-date ideas. She wants to make a sensation like Lady Dunfunkus Macgregor’s daughter, a description of whose marriage she has just read in the Daily Mail, or like Miss Gwendolen Fitzwilliam in the current number of the Family Journal. Her dress and her doings, and all the wedding festivities must as far as possible be modelled on a fashionable pattern, till finally, modern conventionalities and not ancient customs rule the day. Two or three years ago the Weekly News of a very small town in Herefordshire was sent to me in order that I might read therein an account of a village wedding in which I was interested because I had known the bride’s parents all my life. Her father was the village blacksmith, and sexton of the parish, as his father, and grandfather, and great-grandfather had been before him. Here was described how the bride wore a ‘gown’, and how her mother ‘held a reception in a marquee’, and how the bride changed into her ‘travelling costume’, and how ‘the happy couple’ then ‘took their departure in a motor-car’, to ‘spend the honeymoon’ somewhere at the seaside. Indeed, from the newspaper report it might have been a fashionable ‘Society’ wedding, except for one recorded detail: in the list of wedding presents it appeared that the bridegroom’s father had bestowed on the happy couple ‘a pig’! I am glad to say that the young people did not continue to live up to the style of their wedding, and the bride has since often spoken of the pig as the most valuable of all their wedding presents, for within a year this exemplary animal presented them with no less than twenty-eight robust and healthy piglings!

The usual preliminaries to a wedding, namely, the giving in of the banns of marriage, and the publishing of the same in church, can be very variously expressed in dialect speech, for example: to put in the cries (Sc.), or t’spurrins (Yks.), or the askings (Lan.); or to put up the sibbritts (Chs. e.An.), or sibberidge, cp. O.E. sibbr?den, relationship; to be asked in church (gen. dial.); to be asked out (gen. dial.), i.e. to have the banns published for the last time; to be called in church (Lin.), or called home (Wil. Dor.); to be church-bawled (Sus.); to be prayed for (e.An.); to be shouted (Lan.); to be spurred (Yks. Lan. Der. Lin. Wil.). The word spur in this sense is from O.E. spyrian, to investigate, inquire into, but popular etymology has connected it with the ordinary literary English substantive spur. Hence the jocular remark when a person has been once asked in church: Why, thoo’s gotten one spur on thee! In many villages (Lin. Hnt. Rut.) it is customary to ring what is called the Spur-peal, either at the close of the morning service, or in the evening of the Sunday when the banns are published for the first time. Formerly in parts of Wiltshire a man whose banns had been published for the first time was said to have: vallen plump out o’ the pulpit laas’ Zunday, and he was asked how his shoulder was, since it had been put out o’ one side. Parallel to this is the remark: He’s gotten broken-ribbed to-day (Lin.); and further, there are the expressions: to fall over the desk (w.Cy.); and to be thrown over the balk (n.Cy.), balk here signifying the rood-beam dividing the chancel of a church from the nave. If after the banns have been published the marriage does not take place, the deserted one is said to hang over the balk; or, to be hung in the bell-ropes (Chs. Der. Wor.). Tradition in Sussex says that if a man goes to church to hear his banns read, his children will be born deaf and dumb. If a man withdraws his banns after they have been given in, his projected marriage is spoken of as a rue-bargain (Lan.). Them at’s e’ a horry to wed gen’lins eats rew-pie afoore thaay’ve been married a year is a Lincolnshire way of saying: Marry in haste and repent at leisure. To get married is: to tie a knot wi the tongue, at yan cannot louze wi’ yan’s teeth (Yks. Nhp.).

Formerly in Scotland and the north of England it was not uncommon for the wedding-guests to contribute either in money or in kind to the expenses of the marriage entertainment. Such a wedding was called a bidden-wedding (Cum. Wm. Lan.), bride-wain (n.Cy.), or penny-wedding (Sc.). In Lancashire, when the couple to be married were of the very poor, it was once customary for the friends to assemble on the wedding-day, and build for them a house of clay and wood, termed post and petrel; or wattle and daub. The relations provided a few articles of necessary furniture, and when the clay bigging was completed the day was concluded with music and dancing.

In fixing the date of the wedding care must be taken to note on which day of the week it falls, for each day of the week is supposed to have its special influence on the future life of the wedded pair:

Leap year is looked upon as a lucky year for marriage: Happy they’ll be that wed and wive Within leap year; they’re sure to thrive (Yks.). Sunshine on the wedding-day is always a fortunate omen, for: Happy is the bride that the sun shines on. It is very unlucky for the bride to wear green at her wedding (Shr. Yks.), even in any part of her clothing—Green and white, Forsaken quite—but opinions differ as to blue for the colour of the wedding dress: Deean’t o’ Friday buy yer ring, O’ Friday deean’t put t’spurrings in, Deean’t wed o’ Friday. Think o’ this, Nowther blue ner green mun match her dhriss (Yks.); If dressed in blue, She’s sure to rue (Yks.). On the other hand, in certain parts of the country blue is a favourite colour for the wedding attire (Shr.). The most lucky combination is to wear: Something old, and something new, Something borrowed, and something blue. The something borrowed should if possible have been previously worn by a bride at her wedding. In Devonshire a bride is supposed to further her chances of prosperity by carrying with her to church a few sprigs of rue, and of rosemary, and a little garlic in her pocket.

It is a very unlucky omen for a bride on her way to church if a cat or a toad should meet her on the road; if a raven should hover over her; or if a dog, a cat, or a hare should run between her and the bridegroom; if the bridal procession should encounter a funeral; or if a cripple should cross their path. It is unlucky for a widow to be present at the wedding (Shr.); or for the clock to strike during the marriage service (Wor.). When the ceremony is over, whichever of the wedded pair steps first out of church will be ‘master’ in the home (Brks.). At a recent wedding near Oxford, the bride’s mother-in-law stood waiting outside the church door to watch for this important omen, and when she saw her son step out first, she clapped her hands exultingly, greatly to the discomfiture of the bride, who had heedlessly missed her opportunity. In parts of Yorkshire the same superstition is connected with the leaving of the bride’s old home after the wedding-feast; whichever of the two then crosses the threshold first, will be the leader in their future life together. For unmarried members of the wedding party to rub against the bride or bridegroom is considered lucky, as by so doing they may hope to catch the infection of matrimony.

Superstitious practices connected with the first-foot, such as we have already noticed at christenings, are also to be found as part of the old wedding ceremonies. In some districts it was the bride herself, on her way to church, who carried in her pocket a small parcel of bread and cheese to give to the first woman or girl she might meet after leaving the church (Dev.); in others it was a friend who was sent on in front of the wedding procession with the kimbly (Cor.) to be given to the first person met on the road to church. In Scotland two people preceded the procession, one of whom carried a bottle of whisky and a glass, and the other carried the bread and cheese. A man on horseback or accompanied by a horse and cart was considered the most lucky first-foot.

In the north of England, after the marriage service was over, the bride on leaving the church had to jump or be lifted over the parting-stool, or petting-stone at the churchyard gate, after which ceremony money was distributed by the bridegroom. In n.Devon this custom takes the form of chaining the bride. Young men stretch twisted bands of hay, or pieces of rope decorated with ribbons and flowers, across the gateway. Then the bridegroom scatters handfuls of small coin, the chain is dropped whilst the holders scramble for the money, and the bridal party is free to pursue its way home. Money demanded and forcibly exacted at the church gates from the bridegroom is known as ball-money (Sc. Nhb. Cum. Chs.), so called because formerly the money was applied to buying a football for the parish; bride-shoe (Yks.); and hen-silver (Cum. Wm. Yks. Lan.). Sometimes, however, the hen-brass is money privately given by the bridegroom on the evening after the marriage to enable his friends to drink his health. In Westmorland a gun used to be fired over the house of a newly-married couple, and the hen-silver was the present of money given to the firing party to drink to the future health and good luck of the pair. A wedding at which no ball-money is distributed is contemptuously termed a buttermilk wedding (Chs.). On the way home from church the bridegroom usually threw coppers to be scrambled for by the children in the crowd; guns loaded with feathers were fired as a sign of rejoicing (Yks.); and friends came out to meet the bridal party bearing pots of warm ale sweetened and spiced, known as hot pots (n.Cy.). In Cheshire it is still customary to ornament the approach to the bride’s home with sand spread in patterns. The patterns are made by trickling silver sand through the fingers, or through a large funnel. Wreaths and floral emblems are thus traced out, and sometimes mottoes are written, such as: Long may they live and happy may they be; Blest with contentment to all eternity.

Among the ancient wedding sports was the riding for the kail (Sc. n.Cy.), which took place when the bride was on her way home. When the party was nearing the future home of the couple, the unmarried men set off to ride or run at full speed to the house, and whoever reached it first was said to win the kail, or keal. The idea was that the winner of the kail would be the first to enter the married state, kail being the same word as cale, a turn in rotation. Some of the accounts of this sport would however seem to show that in some places the kail meant a dish of spiced broth given as a prize to the winner of the race. The race for the bride’s garter (Yks.) was formerly a very popular wedding sport, and it continued in practice as late as the last decade of the nineteenth century. The race was run from the churchyard gate to the bride-door, where the winner claimed the privilege of removing the prize himself as the bride crossed the threshold of her home. It was valued as a potent love-charm, and was given by the winner to his sweetheart: to binnd his luv. Later a ribbon or a handkerchief was substituted for the bridal garter (Dur. Cum. Yks.).

The ceremony of throwing the bride-cake existed in various forms in Scotland and the northern counties of England. When the bride returned from church, she was met on the doorstep and presented with a thin currant cake on a plate, or it might be shortbread or oat-cake. Some of this cake was then thrown over her head, or more commonly it was broken over her head by the bridegroom. In cases where the cake was thrown over the bride’s head, the plate was not infrequently thrown along with it. In Scotland the cake provided was known as the infar-cake, cp. O.E. infÆr, an entrance. The custom is not yet extinct in Scotland, for I was told by an eye-witness that at a fashionable Scotch wedding only two or three years ago, the bride’s mother-in-law broke a cake of shortbread over the bride’s head on her return from church. The following is a Yorkshire rhyme which accompanies the usual throwing of slippers after a newly-married couple:

A curious saying applied to an elder brother or sister left behind when a younger member of the family is married, is that he or she must dance in the pig-trough (Shr. Suf.), or in the half-peck (Yks.), or dance at the wedding in his (or her) stocking-feet (Shr.).

In olden days, when a marriage resulted in conjugal infelicity, and the husband became a wife-beater, popular disapproval was expressed by a method of punishing the offender known as Riding the Stang. This custom with slight variations and under different names—such as: Rantipole-riding, Skimmington-riding, or simply Riding—was once common practically throughout England, and in many parts of Scotland. Cases where it has been kept up in practice have been recorded as late as the year 1896. The delinquent was caught and tied fast to a stang or pole, and carried round the village in the midst of a jeering crowd; or he was represented by a straw effigy borne on a ladder, or drawn in a cart for three successive nights, accompanied by horn-blowing and shouting. When the procession reached the man’s house, a long nominy or doggerel recounting his offences was recited, the verses varying in different localities. A Lincolnshire nominy runs: He banged her wi’ stick, He banged her wi’ steÄn, He teeak op his naefe [fist], An’ he knocked her doon. With a ran, tan, tan, &c. On the third night the effigy was burned in the street or on the village green. Sometimes instead of an effigy, two men, one of them dressed in female attire, rode in the cart, giving a dialogue representation of the quarrel, and an imitation of the final beating. In some places the culprit was merely serenaded with rough singing, and the noise of beating on pots and pans. This ceremony was called Randanning, or Rough Music, and is closely allied to Stang-riding, cp. ‘Charivaris de poelles. The carting of an infamous person, graced with the harmony of tinging kettles, and frying-pan Musick,’ Cotgrave.

According to a popular superstition once prevalent in many parts of England, dying persons could not pass away peacefully if there were any feathers of game-birds or pigeons in the bed on which they lay. Instances have been recorded where some such feathers have been placed in a small bag, and thrust under the pillow of a dying man to hold him in life until the arrival of some expected relation; and further, instances where, out of pure kindness, a sufferer at the point of death has been removed from his bed, and laid on the floor to die ‘nat’rally’. Formerly, when the moment of death was unmistakably nigh at hand, it was customary to throw open all the doors and windows, so that nothing should hinder the flight of the departing spirit. I myself can remember what seemed to be a remnant of this superstitious observance in a country parish in Herefordshire about twenty-five years ago. The widow of an old farmer had just died, and her daughter told my father that it was well that there was a bolt to the front door, for that the key must not be turned in the lock whilst the body lay in the house. This we took to be a preservation of the letter of the old law. In Yorkshire there exists an idea that the door must not be locked for seven years after a death in the house.

Immediately after the death had taken place, the fire in the room was extinguished, and the looking-glass either covered up, or turned with its face to the wall (Yks. Shr.). In Scotland a piece of iron used to be thrust into all the eatables in the house, butter, cheese, meat, &c., in order—as it was said—to prevent death from entering them. When the corpse had been duly laid out, or streeked (Sc. n.Cy.), a plate of salt was placed on the breast (Sc. Nhb. Shr. Dev.), formerly with the avowed object of driving evil spirits away, but towards the latter end of the nineteenth century, where the custom was still in use, the reason given was that: it prevents the body from swelling. This placing of a plate of salt on the corpse had been part of the performances of the old sin-eater (Sc. Hrf. Cth.), a person who was called in when any one died, to eat the sins of the deceased. He placed a plate of salt and a plate of bread on the breast of the corpse, and muttered certain incantations, after which he ate the contents of the plates, thereby taking upon himself the sins of the dead person, which would otherwise have kept his ghost hovering round his relations on earth. In Northumberland it was customary to double the thumbs of the deceased within the hand, to avert evil spirits. The candles kept burning round the corpse were termed in parts of Lincolnshire ghost-candles, because they were supposed to ward off ghosts.

The customs connected with the tolling of the Passing Bell vary somewhat in detail in different localities, but they are substantially the same. After the bell has tolled for some minutes there is a pause, and then follow the tellers, thrice three successive strokes for a man, twice three for a woman, and three strokes for a child. It has been suggested that the old saying: nine tailors make a man, is a corruption of nine tellers mark a man.

The ceremony of holding watch over the dead between the time of death and burial was called the wake or lyke-wake in Ireland, Scotland, and the north of England. The relatives and neighbours of the deceased assembled at the house, and spent the night in the room with the corpse, singing Psalms and dirges, chatting, telling stories, praising the virtues of the departed, eating and drinking. This gathering usually took place either the evening after the death, or the night before the funeral.

In due course somebody went round to invite friends and neighbours to be present at the funeral. This was called bidding (n.Cy. Stf. Der.), lathing (n.Cy.), or sperring (Lan.), terms which are still in use—e.g. Awm gooin’ a sperrin’, He’s gone a laithin’ o’ th’neeburs to th’berrin’, Ah mun gan an’ see t’last on him, ah’s bid—though the custom of sending a bidder wearing a black silk scarf has long been discontinued. In many places in the Lake district, two persons from every house within a prescribed area were invited to the funeral. Formerly the bidder presented a sprig of rosemary to each invited guest, and the latter was expected to carry it with him to the funeral (Lan.). In Shropshire these sprigs were distributed to the mourners just before the procession left the house. At the conclusion of the burial service each mourner cast his rosemary into the open grave. In s.Pembrokeshire a woman walked in front of the funeral procession strewing sprigs of rosemary and box along the road—‘There’s rosemary, that’s for remembrance.’

A custom still practised in Yorkshire and formerly prevalent in many other English counties, and also in parts of Wales, is that of distributing burying biscuits, or funeral cakes, small oblong sponge biscuits, which some think were originally intended to represent a coffin. As each mourner arrives, he or she is presented with a biscuit and a memorial card. Sometimes this is done by two women who are called servers (n.Yks.). In the Midlands the biscuits were folded up each in white paper sealed with black wax, and so handed round to every guest; in this form, too, they were sent out to any relations or intimate friends not present at the funeral, just as wedding-cake is sent now. Two generations ago this practice was commonly observed in middle class families, as well as among the poorer folk. When my great-uncle—a well-known Evangelical clergyman in Birmingham—died some twenty-five years ago, his executors found among his papers a packet, yellow with age, containing what had once been a funeral sponge biscuit. Together with the funeral cakes spiced ale used sometimes to be served, in a tankard of silver or pewter; but in later, more degenerate days glasses of spirits and water replaced the tankard of ale. Meanwhile the coffin was still kept open, that one and all might take a last look at the corpse before the time came for lifting (Sc. n.Cy.), when the coffin must be closed. Formerly in Northumberland the lifting of the corpse was the signal for the outburst of lamentation known as keening (Sc. Irel. Nhb.), a dismal concerted cry raised by the assembled mourners.

It is still a custom in some Midland counties for little girls in white dresses and black sashes to act as bearers at the funeral of an infant or very young child of their own sex, and for boys to carry baby boys. The coffin is supported by white handkerchiefs or towels passed underneath and held on each side by the young bearers. The funeral garland (n.Cy. Der. Lin. Shr. Hmp.), which marked the burial of a young unmarried woman, has now long since become obsolete. This garland consisted of a coronal or wreath of ribbons, or flowers cut out in white paper, with a white glove suspended in the centre, and it was borne in front of the coffin, or upon it, to the grave, and afterwards suspended in the church. According to a popular belief the passage of a funeral over any ground establishes a right of way. Rain at a funeral is a good sign, for: Happy is the corpse that the rain rains on.

A beautiful old custom, well known in Shropshire in olden days, and kept up certainly within living memory, is that of ringing the dead home. When the funeral procession came in sight of the church, the bell ceased tolling, and a peal was rung, as if to welcome the body to its last resting-place.

There is a general feeling in country parishes against burial on the north side of the church. The south side is considered the holiest portion of the churchyard, where the cross stands, if such there be. In a small parish, where there are few interments, the north side of the churchyard may be quite empty. This points the moral contained in the phrase: Thaay bury them as kills thersens wi’ hard wark o’ th’no’th side o’ th’chech, applied to persons who complain unwarrantably of hard work.

After the burial came the funeral feast held in the house where the deceased had lived, or provided at the village inn. In some places if the family was poor, it would be a pay-berring (Yks.), and each of the invited guests would give some small contribution towards the expenses. To provide a handsome entertainment on these occasions was looked upon as a mark of fitting respect for the dead: Ah’ve nivver been at sike a sitting-doon i’ mah leyfe; ther war nowt bud tea-cakes, an’ badly buttered at that. Noo ah’ve sahded fahve o’ my awn, bud thank the Lord, ah buried ’em all wi’ ham. It is on record that at the funeral of a farmer who died near Whitby in 1760, meat and drink were provided as follows: ‘110 dozen penny loaves, 9 large hams, 8 legs of veal, 20 stone of beef (14 lbs. to the stone), 16 stone of mutton, 15 stone of Cheshire cheese, and 30 ankers of ale; besides what was distributed to 1,000 poor people who had 6d. each in money.’

One of the most interesting of all the ceremonies connected with funerals is the superstitious practice known as telling the bees, once common throughout the greater part of England. To tell the bees is to inform them of the occurrence of the death of the head of the house, or of some member of the family. If this is not done, they are supposed to leave their hives and never return, or else they all die. The right time for making the communication is either just before the funeral leaves the house, or else at the moment when the procession is starting. On the Welsh Border people say it must be made in the middle of the night. The form of words used varies in different parts of the country, but they must always be whispered words, or the bees may take offence. These are some of the recognized formulae: The master is dead; Your friend’s gone; The poor maister’s dead, but yo mun work fur me; Bees, bees, bees, your master is dead, and you must work for ——, naming the future owner. This is accompanied in some instances by three taps on the hive. The hives are ‘put into mourning’ by attaching to them a piece of black crape. In some places it was customary to give the bees a piece of funeral cake; and elsewhere, small portions of every item of the funeral feast were collected in a saucer and put in front of the hive. In Devonshire the popular belief was that if the bees were not told of the death in the family, some other member of the household would die before the expiration of the year. A writer in Lloyd’s Weekly News, July3, 1910, speaks of the superstition of telling the bees as still extant; and at about the same date a girl in Oxford told me that an uncle of hers—yet living—had lost all his bees by neglecting to tell them of the death of his mother.

In some districts is found the observance of the month’s end (Hrf. w.Cy. Wales), a certain Sunday after the funeral when the mourners attend church. A trace of an old religious custom belonging also to the days subsequent to the funeral has been crystallized in the phrase: to have a month’s mind to anything (Chs. Midl. e.An. I.W. Som. Cor.). This alludes to a pre-Reformation practice of repeating one or more masses at the end of a month after death for the repose of a departed soul. In the Churchwardens’ accounts of Abingdon, Berkshire, occurs the following, among other similar entries: ‘1556. Receyved att the buryall and monethe’s mynde of Geo. Chynche xxiid.’ The phrase, however, long ago acquired the meaning it bears to-day, cp.: ‘I see you have a month’s mind to them,’ Shaks. Two Gent. I. ii. 137; ‘I have a month’s mind to be doing as much,’ Jervas, Don Quixote; ‘The King [Henry VII] had more than a moneth’s mind ... to procure the pope to canonize Henry VI for a saint,’ Fuller, Church Hist. Bk. IV. 23; I’d a month’s mind to a knock’d un down (I.W.).