ashes

A delightful email arrives from Annie Leigh, who is Eco Urns. With it come some delicious photos of a bespoke ashes urn Annie has just made for a client. 

The client wanted an urn that could be ‘launched’ at sea. She wanted her husband’s ketch — and she wanted his favourite colour, blue. So Annie came up with the concept you see above — a globe of the earth as seen from space (lots of lovely blues), with the ketch on top. The idea is that the globe sinks… and the ketch takes its chances. 

As you may expect, there’s been some procrastinating in the matter of actually launching it. 

See Annie’s website here. 

The case of Christopher Harris vs Woodstock Town Council focussed the not inconsiderable minds of the GFG workforce on the vital necessity of forwarding all tricky legal enquiries straight to Teresa Evans, thence to John Bradfield if necessary. While we are often to be found curled up with a copy of Davies Law of Burial, Cremation and Exhumation and a nice cup of tea, we have not Teresa or John’s nous nor yet their stamina. To understand the law is to read and re-read til you’ve got it… then (this is the important bit; Teresa told me this) go back and read between the lines.

Christopher’s case focussed our minds on the legal status of ashes. This may well have been determined by the Burial Act 1857 which requires dead people to enjoy eternal rest, and only to be moved with permission:

Except in the cases where a body is removed from one consecrated place of burial to another by faculty granted by the ordinary for that purpose, it shall not be lawful to remove any body, or the remains of any body, which may have been interred in any place of burial, without licence under the hand of one of Her Majesty’s Principal Secretaries of State, and with such precautions as such Secretary of State may prescribe as the condition of such licence; and any person who shall remove any such body or remains, contrary to this enactment, or who shall neglect to observe the precautions prescribed as the condition of the licence for removal, shall, on summary conviction before any two justices of the peace, forfeit and pay for every such offence a sum not exceeding level 1 on the standard scale. (Source: Teresa; our bold)

What follows could well be plumb wrong, so please correct me as unkindly as you wish. It’d be good to get to the bottom of this.

The state takes charge of the disposal of the dead for two reasons: 1) to protect public health and 2) to maintain public decency. Neither of these reasons would seem necessarily to account for the Burial Act 1857’s insistence on 3) ensuring eternal rest for those who are dead and buried. Is this a Christian thing stemming from the belief that the soul is embodied? Perhaps it simply derives from the Roman prescript that ‘the only lawful possessor of a dead body is the earth’.

Anyone wanting to engage in a rite of secondary treatment, as many Greeks do (they dig up the skeleton after 3-5 years, wash it and take it away for reburial), is forbidden. You can only dig up a dead person if you have a faculty from the bishop or a licence from the Home Office (or is that the MoJ?). Having done that, to the earth it must return.

The Burial Act 1857  preceded the Cremation Act of 1902, and did not envisage cremated human remains. When cremation became the alternative to burial it became the practice to allow applicants for cremation to have possession of cremated remains to do with as they saw fit. This makes sense — up to a point. Ashes are neither a threat to public health nor are they an affront to public decency. But what about the requirement for eternal rest? What about ‘the only lawful possessor of a dead body is the earth’?

Well, that requirement seems to have persisted in the case of ashes which are interred in a cemetery. Local Authorities Cemeteries Order 1977, which applies to public cemeteries, defines “burial” as including both “human remains” and “cremated human remains”.  These interments are recorded in the burial register and there can only be an exhumation with a faculty or a licence. An exception, it seems, is Northern Ireland, where the recording of an ashes burial is at the discretion of the cemetery manager.

Germany followed a more consistent line and insists that ashes, almost without exception, are buried in a sealed container in a cemetery — yet it interrupts eternal repose for buried bodies after around thirty years to make room for someone else. In England and Wales (don’t know about Scotland), all we have to do to arrange for the interment of ashes is to produce the (easily opened) container together with a certificate of cremation. The identity of the ashes is not verified; they could be cat litter. As Jonathan Taylor has oberved: “I’ve buried some dodgy-looking fine yellowish dust that looked to me nothing like cremated remains, and which was found on a bookcase and had a cremation certificate ‘found’ for it at a nearby crematorium by a conscientious sleuthing undertaker but with absolutely no evidence of any connection between the two.”

If you scatter ashes, you are not required to record the location, even in a cemetery. What, then, constitutes an interment? Again, as I understand it, the MoJ’s clarification of the Burial Act as it applies to cremated human remains is that they must be in a container and constitute a ‘discernible mass’. Scatter them in the bottom of a spouse’s coffin, and no permission is required; tuck them in a container under the spouse’s arm and you need someone’s say-so.

If you know better, please say.

All cemeteries experience Monday morning molehill syndrome: the appearance of wee freshly dug mounds on graves where, who knows, ashes have been interred while no one’s looking. It may be the case that some good-hearted funeral directors encourage or conspire with their clients to do it, depriving our cemeteries of valuable revenue stream. 

Footnote: The Burial Act 1857 also “exempt[s] from Toll every Person going to or returning from attending the Funeral of any Person who shall be buried in any Burial Ground provided for the Parish, Township, or Place in which he died.” So you know what to say next time you want a free ride over the Clifton suspension bridge or along the M6 Toll. 

A quick update on the attempt by Christopher Harris to persuade Woodstock council to abandon its requirement that  ‘all interments [of ashes] … must be arranged by an approved professional firm’

We foregathered in the council chamber. Green baize-covered table, mace thereon, oil portraits of worthies from various lost ages, Union Jack, evening sunlight streaming in, mayor with a Funeralworld capo’s chain, framed photo of the Annigoni portrait of the queen, noble fireplace, cabinet full of pewter plates — in short, a scene from Dad’s Army. Proceedings began with no preliminary welcome from the mayor and no explanation of the democratic process as it operated in this chamber. Half the council members sat with their bloody backs to us. It was the sort of event that makes tyranny look terribly attractive. 

Chris spoke very well in the teeth of a stentorian countdown from the mayor – “One more minute.” If the councillors listened they did so in a way different from you and me. They then voted to go into confidential session to discuss it all… and that was that. No news of a decision has come through today. We are none the wiser. 

A man suffered humiliation and distress at the hands of an airport security agent when she insisted on opening a jar containing his grandfather’s remains and then dropped them on the floor.

John Gross, of Indianapolis, was trying to bring Mario Mark Marcaletti’s ashes home from Florida and had them in his bag in a tightly sealed jar clearly marked ‘Human Remains’.

The 91-year-old’s remains had been divided up among family members after he died in 2002 and Gross had been given a share by his uncle during his trip.

He was confronted by the TSA [Transport Security Authority] officer and explained what was in the container.

‘They opened up my bag, and I told them, “Please, be careful. These are my grandpa’s ashes.”

‘She picked up the jar. She opened it up.

‘She used her finger and was sifting through it. And then she accidentally spilled it.’

As a third of the jar’s contents fell out onto the floor Gross frantically tried to gather it back up, a line of passengers waiting behind him.

‘She didn’t apologize. She started laughing.”

Full story here.

Hat tip to Evelyn Temple