In search of The Red Lady or 'would you like salt & sauce with that?'

I was perusing the net, as one does, when I came across a site with
pictures of old graveyards -don't ask - that had a page about
Warriston Cemetery.

Some lovely Black & White images - if you have a gothic bent - and one
in particular reminded me of a childhood adventure.

When I was still at primary school, probably around 8 years old, a select
few of my classmates & I set off after school to visit The Red Lady. I had
no idea who or what the Red Lady was, only that she was located
in Warriston Cemetery. As the school day wore on and the wind-up stories
were getting creepier by the minute (It's funny how the the biggest wind-
up merchants are usually the ones who are really scared!) I couldn't wait for
the school day to end so we could begin our adventure; I was also a bit
apprehensive. Most of this apprehension focused on Webby; a new addition
to the Red Lady myth, Webby was the groundskeeper at the cemetery
who lived in a hut & got his name from his ... wait for it ... Webbed Fingers !!!
( I think John Carpenter & Stephen King must have been in my class!)

The school bell rang & our clandestine group of spook hunters hurried out the gates.
As we made our way towards the cemetery - I think there were about 6 of us -
any old men we passed were viewed with suspicion, particular attention being
paid to their hands. Entering the cemetery like commandos dodging a searchlight,
we followed one of the girl's in the expedition (there were two - perhaps three if I
remember correctly) as she led the way to The Red Lady's Crypt. Our nerves
were all on edge, dreading an unexpected meet with Webby or even worse -
being ejected from the cemetery before completing our task.

As we approached the general area of the crypt, someone pointed & our eyes followed.
The crypt was a beautiful thing indeed; a Victorian Gothic structure made of iron
and glazed with coloured panels; ruby glass roof & green glass walls. Between
the roof & the walls there was a frieze effect created with lighter, rectangular glass
panels - perhaps milk glass - on which there was an inscription. written in ornate Gothic
script and travelling all the way round the structure was The Lords Prayer.

Standing in the middle of this graveyard there was something comforting
in reading the words we had to recite by rote every morning.
(does any 8 year old really understand the word hallowed?)

On closer inspection I could see the Red Lady herself; A Gothic Beauty.
Inside the glass mausoleam there was a carved stone figure of a recumbent female,
her arms crossed over her chest, very much at rest. The light from the ruby glass roof
bathed the whole of the interior in vivid red - hence The Red Lady.
We stood there taking in every detail with silent awe - each with our own thoughts -
until someone got bored & shouted out in fake terror .................. 'WEBBY!!!!!!!!!!'

we scattered through the cemetery like the devil himself was at our tails, meeting up
outside the graveyard walls to giggle & feign fear, already planning how to relate our
tale of terror in the school playground the next day. I never went back to see
The Red Lady again, but our paths did cross at a later date ...

As a Punk in my teens I met a broad cross-section of local youths, united under
the Punk identity. I was always more of a Political Punk but knew & mixed
with a few Punks who were basically into the scene for the shock value & the
fact It gave them an excuse to behave badly (Christ! I sound like a school teacher -
but you know what I mean.) One fine summers night I met up with a couple
of Punk nutters out of their heads on glue & cheap booze who were going to hang out
at the cemetery. They asked me If I want to go with them but - luckily - I declined.
I didn't think any more of it; a few days later I found out what happened that night:

The two nutters are in Warriston Cemetery & as the alcohol & the glue
kick in, they are getting more & more outrageous. What begins as vandalism -
kicking over gravestones & doing as much damage as possible - ends up as
graverobbing! In a bid to out-do each other, one of them opens the stone coffin of
The Red Lady and removes the skull. They leave the cemetery,
making their way back to Leith, terrorizing passers-by with their new toy!

This escapade culminates when they go into the local fish & chip shop
(the skull hidden under a jacket) and, in front of the crowd of hungry customers,
put the skull on the counter and ask the lady behind it 'could ye fry this fur us missus.'
According to a witness she hit the ground (fainted) before he finished the sentence.
Talking of sentences, they both got 3 years!.

I always wondered ... did anybody actually eat their fish & chips that night?