For ancient Latvians, October was the time of veļi (spirits of the departed), when people honored and remembered the dead. I’ve written before about the traditions of offering food to the spirits, but this time I’ll share about funeral customs in Kurzeme.
The following account was documented in 1926 by Skrunda schoolteacher P. Redlihs, based on the words of 65-year-old Kate Strūkle. Kate lived in the soldier's land of Strūkļi near Zirņi Manor, but she experienced funeral customs in the Ejuši household. At that time, the area was known as Ierenieki Parish, and its residents were called ierenieki. Later, Ierenieki was merged into Raņķi Parish.
I’ve made minor language edits, but the original description in Latvian can be read in the Latvian Folklore Repository’s digital archive at garamantas.lv.
This was about 50 years ago. Back then, it wasn’t like it is now, where some landowners look down on us common folk. Everyone was together, like a family. That’s how it was with ierenieki. The funeral customs were the same everywhere. When someone died, people went to find the washers. These were special people, not like today, when any old woman could be a washer or when families wash the deceased themselves.
They washed the deceased in a large tub or barrel. After washing, they dressed the person in their best clothes. In the presence of a pātarnieks (a lay prayer leader), who would sing a hymn and recite prayers, they placed the deceased in a coffin and laid it in one corner of the room.
They then built a canopy for the deceased, using fir branches and small fir trees, and lined it with sheets. The deceased’s best belongings were brought there—fine items like silks, brooches, bonnets, skirts, woolen shawls, and anything else of value. Clean, white linen was also brought in. For men, too, fine items were provided: breeches with flaps, sheepskin caps, even a marten hat for some. They weren’t poor at all!
Beside the deceased in this canopy sat the klātsēdētājas (vigil-sitters), singing continuously. Some of the songs I still remember, as I’ve sometimes sung them in memory of my youth:
What good we earn,
Living in this world,
Two linen shrouds,
Six boards.
Rest, my soul,
On the cross’s edge,
Long have you kept watch
In smoky rooms.
They slaughtered an ox for me,
Sweet ale was brewed,
Lie down once you’re grown
Under the green sod.
Prayers were recited for the deceased all in one round. People ate and drank right there, as I mentioned before, since there was just one large room. Those who were wealthier might have had a “second room” where the landowners lived. Before the funeral procession, everyone would have a midday meal. The pallbearers were given ribbons and a pair of gloves to wear over their shoulders, as was the pātarnieks. It was said that he kept a chest full of gloves and ribbons.
When they arrived at the cemetery, the coffin was placed by the gate while the pātarnieks inspected the grave. The grave was decorated with spruce branches, and in some homes, they could also draw various crosses and curves in white sand—even verses in letters.
If everything was in order, they carried the deceased to the gravesite. The pātarnieks went ahead singing, and others joined in. After the final prayers, the coffin was lowered into the grave with long towels. Using a rope to lower it would have been shameful. There were six grave diggers, who were either family members or other helpful people.
After the burial, by the gates, everyone was treated to brandy, white bread, beer, and meat. Some even got quite spirited and began to sing. Once everyone was served (they made sure to ask if all had received), they returned home. Musicians played and tapped tambourines along the way, and when they arrived back, they sang again. A few of the songs I still remember:
What good we bring back,
Returning from the graveyard,
Shoes filled with white sand,
Hands full of tears.
Don’t die, dear kin,
There’s no more room on the hill,
We buried a brother
On the hill’s peak.
Why does my mother cry for me,
What have I done for her?
Sitting on your lap by day,
Sleeping in your arms at night.
They all sang. Once they started eating and drinking, there was much talking of all kinds. Only the women and the vigil-sitters sang during this time. The funeral feasting went on for a day or two, sometimes even longer. Nothing was lacking: there was fine beer, meat, and bread in abundance.
At Skrunda’s Second Primary School, on March 2, 1926.
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