A foundation sacrifice is suggested by the following curious discovery, reported in the Yorkshire Herald of May 31st, 1895: “It was recently ascertained that the tower of Darrington Church, about four miles from Pontefract, had suffered some damage during the winter gales. The foundations were carefully examined, when it was found that under the west side of the tower, only about a foot from the surface, the body of a man had been placed in a sort of bed in the solid rock, and the west wall was actually resting upon his skull. The gentle vibration of the tower had opened the skull and caused in it a crack of about two-and-a-half inches long. The grave must have been prepared and the wall placed with deliberate intention upon the head of the person buried, and this was done with such care that all remained as placed for at least 600 years.”
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The majority of the clergy in the early part of the Middle Ages doubtless would be very strongly imbued with all the superstitions of the people. The mediæval priest, half believing in many of the old pagan customs, would allow them to continue, and it is both curious and interesting to notice how heathenism has for so long a period lingered on, mixed up with Christian ideas.
It is said that St. Odhran expressed his willingness to be the first to be buried in Iona, and, indeed, offered himself to be buried alive for sacrifice. Local tradition long afterwards added the still more ghastly circumstance that once, when the tomb was opened, he was found still alive, and uttered such fearful words that the grave had to be closed immediately.
Even at the present day there is a prejudice more or less deeply rooted against a first burial in a new churchyard or cemetery. This prejudice is doubtless due to the fact that in early ages the first to be buried was a victim. Later on in the middle ages the idea seems to have been that the first to be buried became the perquisite of the devil, who thus seems in the minds of the people to have taken the place of the pagan deity. Not in England alone, but all over Northern Europe, [p 40] there is a strong prejudice against being the first to enter a new building, or to cross a newly-built bridge. At the least it is considered unlucky, and the more superstitious believe it will entail death. All this is the outcome of the once general sacrificial foundation, and the lingering shadow of a ghastly practice.
Grimm, in his “Teutonic Mythology,” tells us that when the new bridge at Halle, finished in 1843, was building, the common people got an idea that a child was wanted to wall up in the foundations. In the outer wall of Reichenfels Castle a child was actually built in alive; a projecting stone marks the spot, and it is believed that if this stone were pulled out the wall would at once fall down.
Bones, both human and of animals, have been found under hearthstones of houses. When we consider that the hearth is the centre, as it were, and most sacred spot of a house, and that the chimney above it is the highest portion built, and the most difficult to complete, it seems easy to understand why the victim was buried under the hearthstone or jamb of the chimney.
There is an interesting custom prevailing in Roumania to the present day which is clearly a [p 41] remnant of the old idea of a sacrificial foundation. When masons are engaged building a house they try to catch the shadow of a stranger passing by and wall it in, and throw in stones and mortar whilst his shadow rests on the walls. If no one passes by to throw a shadow the masons go in search of a woman or child who does not belong to the place, and, unperceived by the person, apply a reed to the shadow and this reed is then immured. In Holland frequently there has been found in foundations curious looking objects something like ninepins, but which in reality are simply rude imitations of babies in their swaddling bands—the image representing the child being the modern substitute for an actual sacrifice. Carved figures of Christ crucified have been found in the foundations of churches. Some few years ago, when the north wall of Chulmleigh Church in North Devon was taken down there was found a carved figure of Christ crucified to a vine.[4]
A story is told that the walls of Scutari contain the body of a victim. In this case it is a woman who is said to have been built in, but an opening was left through which her infant might be [p 42] passed in to be suckled by her as long as any life remained in the poor creature, and after her death the hole was closed.
The legend of Cologne Cathedral is well known. The architect sold himself to the devil for the plan, and gave up his life when the building was in progress; that is to say, the man voluntarily gave up his life to be buried under the tower to ensure the stability of the enormous superstructure, which he believed could not be held up in any other way.
It is well known that the extinguished torch is the symbol of departed life, and to the present day the superstitious mind always connects the soul with flame. It was at one time a common practice to bury a candle in a coffin, the explanation being that the dead man needed it to give him light on his way to Heaven. It is extremely doubtful, however, whether this was the original idea, for most probably the candle in the first instance really represented an extinguished life, and was thus a substitute for a human sacrifice which, in the pagan times, accompanied every burial. The candle, in fact, took the place of a life, human or animal, and in many instances candles have been found [p 43] immured in the walls and foundations of churches and houses.