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Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
In the heart of Basel’s old town, amid narrow cobbled streets and Gothic church spires, there lingers a memory too grim to fully fade of the plague and the deaths of thousands of people, rich, poor, young or old, the death didn’t discriminate. It clings to the city like mist to the Rhine, a shadow of death and ancient disease that once brought the living to their knees.
The story’s origin lies in one of Basel’s darkest chapters: the Black Death and it claims that it’s victim will rise from their graves if the city ever needs a warning from the afterlife.
The 14th century was an era of unimaginable horror for Basel as it was for the rest of Europe. In 1314, a virulent wave of the plague swept through the city, carrying away thousands within weeks. The death was swift and cruel — marked by hideous black buboes beneath the arms and around the groin, followed by high fever and swift decline.
The Dance of Death: (1493) by Michael Wolgemut, from the Nuremberg Chronicle of Hartmann Schedel
Thirty-five years later, the plague returned with even greater ferocity. The city’s cemeteries overflowed, and in desperation, the dead were buried hastily in mass graves, especially in the burial grounds surrounding the Predigerkirche (Church of the Preachers).
It was amid this devastation that The Basel Dance of Death (Basler Totentanz) was born. Beautiful art depicting horrible death.
The Dance of Death Mural
In the 15th century, as plague continued to haunt Europe, a long, striking mural was painted along the inside of the cemetery wall near the Predigerkirche. The Dance of Death was no gentle allegory. Here, death came for all, beggar and merchant, soldier and king. They were all depicted as skeletal figures leading the living in a grim, final waltz. It was a stark, public reminder that death makes no distinction of rank or wealth.
Danse Macabre of Basel: Watercolor copy by Johann Rudolf Feyerabend, 1806 : bottom left. Historisches Museum of Basel.
Miraculously, the mural survived the iconoclasm of the Reformation, was restored in the 17th century, and eventually dismantled in 1805, though parts of it survive in reproduction. But the mural’s power was never solely in paint and plaster and it became a living legend, one that the people of Basel claimed could still be seen, in another form, when darkness fell.
The Procession of the Restless Dead
According to local lore, the countless plague victims interred hurriedly in the soil before the Predigerkirche (Church of the Holy Spirit). Today it is a small patch of grass right in front of the church, said to house thousands of people buried after the plague. According to the legend, they do not sleep peacefully.
When Basel stands on the brink of danger, be it war, famine, disease, or other calamity it is said that the plague dead rise from their mass graves. Silently, in the dead of night, they form a ghostly procession, a macabre parade of spectral figures shrouded in rotting shrouds and hollow eyes, marching through the old city streets.
This ghostly cortege begins at the site of the old Dance of Death mural, winds its way through the alleys, and returns to the churchyard before dawn. Some accounts claim that one can hear the faint rattle of bones, the dragging of weary feet, and the mournful tolling of an unseen bell.
In keeping with the ancient mural’s message, the procession is democratic in its horror where peasants, noblemen, clerics, and merchants march side by side, bound by death and decay march.
Outside of Dublin overlooking the Irish sea, a white lady is said to be haunting the premise. Seen coming up from the beach and wandering on the castle grounds, the ghost that is called the Lady of the Stairs is just one of the ghosts said to linger at Ardgillan Castle.
In the woodlands on the Hill of the Dead, the Sanctuary of Somazzo or Church of San Giuseppe has been the place of a strange pilgrimage for ages. According to legend, praying to the three girls said to be entombed alive in the church is said to bring rain in times of drought.
Frozen in all eternity as a stone below the old castle of Duino on the cliffs. It is said to be haunted by the Lady in White, the former lady of the castle, thrown off the cliffs by her jealous husband. Now she returns to the castle to watch over her child she left behind.
Bordering Norway and Sweden, the mysterious Finnskogen forest, with its deep rooted trees holds ghosts, curses and lingering spirits. Like the poltergeist like ghost at Välgunaho farm, who drove its residents away and left it abandoned for over a century.
Now, the former barracks has turned into the National Museum of Ireland. If we are to believe the rumours, the ghosts of war from the former Collins Barracks are said to still linger.
In the old farm for the rich and the powerful in the northern parts of Norway, Løp Gård is said to hold many of their former inhabitants, even in their death.
Was she a Witch or Serial Killer with connection to the Hellfire Club that her legends paint her to be? What was the true story behind Darkey Kelley, said to haunt Dublin as the Green Lady of the Liberties.
After tragedy struck Birthe Svendsdatter, she threw herself from the window and ended up with a limp and a brain injury. Called Halte-Birthe because of her limp, she is said to haunt Fossesholm Manor to this day.
Feeling like a sudden and invisible burden, the life force of wary travellers were long subjected to the terror of the Aufhocker. A creature between the vampire, werewolf and goblin spirits, the legend of the empty road were long haunted by something heavy.
A maid who once worked at the hotel allegedly took her own life at the old Visnes Hotel, deep in the Norwegian fjords. Now it is said she is lingering in the afterlife in the old rooms she once worked in.