Folk-lore of Shakespeare Part 75

"The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd, His thread of life had not so soon decay'd."

Once more, the custom of closing the eyes at the moment of death is touchingly referred to in "Antony and Cleopatra" (v. 2), where Charmian may be supposed to close Cleopatra's eyes:

"Downy windows, close; And golden Phbus never be beheld Of eyes again so royal."

Pa.s.sing on from that solemn moment in human life when the soul takes its flight from the fragile tenement of clay that contained it during its earthly existence, we find that, even among the lowest savages, there has generally been a certain respect paid to the dead body; and, consequently, various superst.i.tious rites have, from time to time, been a.s.sociated with its burial, which has been so appropriately termed "the last act." While occasionally speaking of death, Shakespeare has not only pictured its solemnity in the most powerful and glowing language, but, as opportunity allowed, given us a slight insight into those customs that formerly prevailed in connection with the committal of the body to its final resting-place in the grave. At the present day, when there is an ever-growing tendency to discard and forget, as irrational and foolish, the customs of bygone years, it is interesting to find chronicled, for all future time, in the immortal pages of our ill.u.s.trious poet, those superst.i.tious rites and social usages which may be said to have been most intimately identified with the age to which they belonged. One custom, perhaps, that will always retain its old hold among us-so long as we continue to bury the remains of our departed ones-is the scattering of flowers on their graves; a practice, indeed, which may be traced up to pagan times. It is frequently mentioned by Shakespeare in some of his superb pa.s.sages; as, for instance, in "Cymbeline" (iv. 2), where Arviragus says:

"With fairest flowers, Whilst summer lasts, and I live here, Fidele, I'll sweeten thy sad grave: thou shalt not lack The flower that's like thy face, pale primrose, nor The azur'd hare-bell, like thy veins; no, nor The leaf of eglantine, whom not to slander, Out-sweeten'd not thy breath.

Yea, and furr'd moss besides, when flowers are none, To winter-ground thy corse."

In "Hamlet" (iv. 5), the poor, bewildered Ophelia sings:

"Larded with sweet flowers; Which bewept to the grave did go With true-love showers."

Then, further on (v. 1), there is the affecting flower-strewing scene, where the Queen, standing over the grave of Ophelia, bids her a long farewell:

"Sweets to the sweet: farewell!

I hop'd thou should'st have been my Hamlet's wife; I thought thy bride-bed to have deck'd, sweet maid, And not have strew'd thy grave."

In "Romeo and Juliet" (iv. 5), Capulet says:

"Our bridal flowers serve for a buried corse."

And further on (v. 3) the Page says:

"He came with flowers to strew his lady's grave."[738]

[738] Cf. "Winter's Tale," iv. 4.

Once more, in "Pericles" (iv. 1), Marina is introduced, entering with a basket of flowers, uttering these sad words:

"No, I will rob Tellus of her weed, To strew thy green with flowers; the yellows, blues, The purple violets, and marigolds, Shall, as a carpet, hang upon thy grave, While summer days do last."

Flowers, which so soon droop and wither, are, indeed, sweet emblems of that brief life which is the portion of mankind in this world, while, at the same time, their exquisite beauty is a further type of the glory that awaits the redeemed hereafter, when, like fair flowers, they shall burst forth in unspeakable grandeur on the resurrection morn. There is a pretty custom observed in South Wales on Palm Sunday, of spreading fresh flowers upon the graves of friends and relatives, the day being called Flowering Sunday.

The practice of decorating the corpse is mentioned by many old writers.

In "Romeo and Juliet" (iv. 5), Friar Laurence says:

"Dry up your tears, and stick your rosemary On this fair corse; and, as the custom is, In all her best array bear her to church."

Queen Katharine, in "Henry VIII." (iv. 2), directs:

"When I am dead, good wench, Let me be us'd with honour: strew me over With maiden flowers."

It was formerly customary, in various parts of England, to have a garland of flowers and sweet herbs carried before a maiden's coffin, and afterwards to suspend it in the church. In allusion to this practice, the Priest, in "Hamlet" (v. 1), says:

"Yet here she is allow'd her virgin crants, Her maiden strewments, and the bringing home Of bell and burial."

-crants[739] meaning garlands. It may be noted that no other instance has been found of this word in English. These garlands are thus described by Gay:

"To her sweet mem'ry flow'ry garlands strung, On her now empty seat aloft were hung."

[739] The word in German is _kranz_, in other Teutonic dialects _krants_, _krans_, and _crance_-the latter being Lowland Scotch-and having _cransies_ for plural. Clark and Wright's "Hamlet," 1876, p. 216.

Nichols, in his "History of Lancas.h.i.+re" (vol. ii. pt. i. p. 382), speaking of Waltham, in Framland Hundred, says: "In this church, under every arch, a garland is suspended, one of which is customarily placed there whenever any young unmarried woman dies." Brand[740] tells us he saw in the churches of Wolsingham and Stanhope, in the county of Durham, specimens of these garlands; the form of a woman's glove, cut in white paper, being hung in the centre of each of them.

[740] "Pop. Antiq." vol. ii. p. 303.

The funerals of knights and persons of rank were, in Shakespeare's day, performed with great ceremony and ostentation. Sir John Hawkins observes that "the sword, the helmet, the gauntlets, spurs, and tabard are still hung over the grave of every knight." In "Hamlet" (iv. 5), Laertes speaks of this custom:

"His means of death, his obscure burial,- No trophy, sword, nor hatchment, o'er his bones, No n.o.ble rite, nor formal ostentation,- Cry to be heard, as 'twere from heaven to earth, That I must call't in question."

Again, in "2 Henry VI." (iv. 10), Iden says:

"Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?

Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed, And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead."

The custom of bearing the dead body in its ordinary habiliments, and with the face uncovered-a practice referred to in "Romeo and Juliet"

(iv. 1)-appears to have been peculiar to Italy:

"Then, as the manner of our country is, In thy best robes uncover'd on the bier, Thou shalt be borne to that same ancient vault Where all the kindred of the Capulets lie."

In Coryat's "Crudities" (1776, vol. ii. p. 27) the practice is thus described: "The burials are so strange, both in Venice and all other cities, towns, and parishes of Italy, that they differ not only from England, but from all other nations whatever in Christendom. For they carry the corse to church with the face, hands, and feet all naked, and wearing the same apparel that the person wore lately before he died, or that which he craved to be buried in; which apparel is interred together with the body."[741] Singer[742] says that Shakespeare no doubt had seen this custom particularly described in the "Tragicall History of Romeus and Juliet:"

"Another use there is, that, whosoever dies, Borne to the church, with open face, upon the bier he lies, In wonted weed attir'd, not wrapt in winding sheet."

[741] See Staunton's "Shakespeare," 1864, vol. i. p. 305.

[742] "Shakespeare," 1875, vol. ix. pp. 209, 210.

He alludes to it again in Ophelia's song, in "Hamlet" (iv. 5):

"They bore him barefac'd on the bier."

It was, in bygone times, customary to bury the Danish kings in their armor; hence the remark of Hamlet (i. 4), when addressing the Ghost:

"What may this mean, That thou, dead corse, again, in complete steel, Revisit'st thus the glimpses of the moon, Making night hideous?"

Shakespeare was probably guilty of an anachronism in "Coriola.n.u.s" (v. 6) when he makes one of the lords say:

"Bear from hence his body, And mourn you for him: let him be regarded As the most n.o.ble corse that ever herald Did follow to his urn,"

the allusion being to the public funeral of English princes, at the conclusion of which a herald proclaimed the style of the deceased.

We may compare what Queen Katharine says in "Henry VIII." (iv. 2):