The Friendly Corpse
The tale of Archdeacon Forristal and the “friendly corpse” is one of those weird and wonderful Newfoundland stories that has endured for nearly 200 years. It might not pass a fact-check, but somehow it still rings true.
The Strangest Funeral
It was Sunday, in late spring, sometime around 1850.
Father William Forristal was returning from Torbay on horseback. The air was crisp, and the road was dry. It was a beautiful day for travelling. In the distance he noticed a funeral procession approaching.
-
Whatever about the story, Archdeacon William Forristal was as real as they come. He was born in Ireland and served the Catholic Church in Newfoundland for over fifty years and was renowned for his near-encyclopedic knowledge of the island and its people. He collected many spellbinding stories during his ministry — perhaps none more so than this strange encounter outside Torbay.
In those days, the dead were often carried on the shoulders of pallbearers, the coffin balanced carefully between them.
It was a sight Forristal had seen countless times, but something about this procession caught his attention.
What was it? There was something in the way they moved.
As the two parties drew closer, the pallbearers stopped. Forristal reined in his horse, nodding to the men, and asked the usual question: “Who have you there?”
Before the men could answer — and to the Archdeacon’s utter astonishment — an elderly woman popped up from inside the coffin.
“It’s me, Father!” she said, as if pleased to see him. “Come here and shake hands with me—I may never get another chance!”
Now, Forristal had seen a lot and was not easily rattled, but he almost fell off his horse. Never before had a corpse spoken to him, let alone offered to shake his hand.
Seeing the look on his face, one of the pallbearers stepped forward.
“Don’t be alarmed, Father,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. “It’s only Aunt Sarah. You prayed with her in St. John’s yesterday. The doctor said she hadn’t long left, so we’re fetching her home to Torbay.”
Forristal stammered, “But in a coffin?”
The man nodded. “We thought about waiting for her to pass, Father, but the capelin’s in. Next week we’ll be too busy to come back for her. So, we got her a coffin, and fixed her in nice and snug.”
“It seemed the best way to get her back to the cove… And you’re comfortable enough, aren’t you, Aunt Sarah?”
The woman, still sitting upright, smiled and waved dissmissively. “Oh, I’m fine, Father. I’ll be gone soon enough, and they’ll bury me proper. Best to back in Torbay where I belongs til my time comes, don’t you think?”
And with that, she lay back down, pulling a blanket up to her chin.
The pallbearers shifted the weight of the coffin, and the procession continued on its way, leaving Forristal in the middle of the road, his horse fidgeting beneath him as though she too, couldn’t believe what she’d just seen.
Practical Peculiarities
While this story may not be heavy on facts, its heart feels undeniably true. We recognize the quiet dignity of an elderly woman, the practical resilience of friends and family navigating tragedy, and the gentle absurdity of life in a place where even death must yield to a school of capelin. It captures the pragmatic way Newfoundlanders once faced life—where practicality often blurred into peculiarity.
Ultimately, it’s never the exact details that matter but the truths they uncover: humor, resilience, and a touch of eccentricity are some of the finest tools for navigating a challenging world.
-
The Barrelman Scripts, Feb 19, 1951
Archdeacon Forristal, Colonist Xmas Number, 1887
Fore-Armed, Christmas Review, 1901
Death of the Venerable Archdeacon Forristal, Times and General Commercial Gazette, September 15, 1894
