Skulferatu #33 - Kirkgate Cemetery, by Loch Leven, Kinross

 

On a rather chilly and misty day I took a trip over to Loch Leven.  For once there was no rain and no wind, so I made the best of it and took my bike with me.  There is a path around the Loch for walking or cycling on, it is about 20 km in total so is perfect for a leisurely cycle.  So, for the first cycling trip of the year that suited me well.

 

After my cycle I dropped off at Kirkgate Cemetery, also known by the unglamorous name of Kinross East Burying Ground.  The cemetery sits by the banks of the loch and has a great view over to Loch Leven Castle.  This castle, which was built in the 1300s, was one of the many in which Mary Queen of Scots was held prisoner.  It was here that she was forced to abdicate in favour of her son James.  After several botched attempts she escaped from the castle, raised an army, fought and lost a battle, and fled to England hoping for help from her cousin, Queen Elizabeth I.  I think we all know how that turned out for her…

 

Watch Tower at entrance to Kirkgate Cemetery

 

Gravestones at Kirkgate Cemetery

 

Old gravestone with the Bruce Mortuary Chapel behind it

 

View over graveyard to Castle Island

 

Loch Leven Castle

 

The cemetery, apart from having some lovely views, is quite picturesque with its ancient graves, tombs and lots of crumbling gravestones with faded carved skulls on them.  The parish church of Kinross used to stand in these grounds, though there are now no remains of it.  It is thought that it probably stood in the site now occupied by the Bruce Mortuary Chapel.

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on my cycle in a hole in the wall of the burial ground.

 

Skulferatu #33

 

Skulferatu #33 in hole in the wall at Kirkgate Cemetery, Kinross

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #33

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

 

Latitude 56.200980

Longitude -3.406014

 

Skulferatu #27 - Grave of The Great Lafayette, Piershill Cemetery, Edinburgh

 

In a rather non-descript and suburban Edinburgh cemetery there is buried a legendary entertainer, magician, and illusionist from a bygone era.  A man, who back at the start of the 20^th Century, was one of the most sought after acts in both the USA and the Europe.  The grave is that of the Great Lafayette, and also his pet dog, Beauty. Today I took a stroll in the howling wind through the backstreets of Leith, Restalrig, Lochend and Piershill to pay them both a visit.

 

Grave of the Great Lafayette & Beauty

 

The Great Lafayette, whose real name was Sigmund Neuberger, was born on February 25th, 1871 in Munich, Germany. In 1890, when aged 19, he and his family emigrated to the USA.  There he worked for a while as a bank clerk, but always had an interest in the music hall and the theatre.  He started out as an amateur with an act that involved shooting with a bow and arrows.  The sort of act where he would shoot a coin out of someone’s fingers.  As time went on, he decided he wanted to try his luck in the entertainment industry and left home with £80 of his hard earned savings.  His parents couldn’t understand why he had left a good job at the bank to pursue such a financially insecure career and told him that he would soon return home penniless.  However, within weeks of leaving he had secured an engagement at Spokane Falls, Washington.   From there his career developed and he became renowned for an act that included quick costume changes, magic and elaborate illusions involving a troupe of actors, acrobats and animals.  He also sang, danced, played various instruments, and composed the music for his shows.  The Great Lafayette, as he was then known, became much in demand and was soon touring the world.  He commanded large fees for his act and was one of the highest paid stars of that era.  It was reckoned that he was earning around $44,000.00 a year, which in today’s money would be over three and a half million dollars.

 

One of his more elaborate acts, that soon became a favourite with audiences worldwide, was ‘The Lion’s Bride’.  This act, which involved a real, live lion in a cage, now seems a bit dated, cruel and full of racial stereotypes.  It is basically the story of a beautiful maiden who is shipwrecked in the Persian Gulf and then captured by the servants of the tyrannical monarch there, Alep Arslan.  Arslan is entranced by the maiden’s beauty and wants her for his harem.  However, the maiden rejects his advances, much to his annoyance.  Her lover, played by the Great Lafayette, attempts to rescue her, but she ends up back in the clutches of Arslan.  She is then offered the choice of becoming Arslan’s wife or being thrown into a cage with a ferocious lion. She chooses to die, rather than give herself to him.   Arslan has her placed in a cage with a real lion and in the finale of the act, which thrilled audiences, the lion would leap towards her, only for the Great Lafayette to burst out of it revealing it was actually him in a lion costume.  The real lion having been switched when a group of fire-eaters, jugglers and performers obscured the audience’s view of the cage.

 

While he was touring The Great Lafayette was given the gift of a pet dog by his friend Harry Houdini.  He named the dog Beauty and soon doted on her.  She went everywhere with him and became part of his act.  He spoiled the dog rotten and treated her as his best friend, buying her a diamond studded collar and giving her, her own room, in the house he had bought in Tavistock Square in London. 

 

In May 1911, the Great Lafayette arrived in Edinburgh with his troupe for a run of shows at the Empire Theatre in Edinburgh.  However, he wasn’t in Edinburgh long before disaster struck.  On the 2^nd of May his beloved dog died suddenly.  Lafayette was heartbroken and had to have the best for Beauty, even in her death.   He had her embalmed and was given permission to have her buried at Piershill Cemetery, by the company that owned it.  This was under the provision that on his death he too would be buried in the same plot as his dog.  Even though he was completely heartbroken by Beauty’s death, Lafayette being the consummate professional carried on with the run of shows, all of which were sold out.

 

On the night of the 9 May 1911, The Great Lafayette’s act was all going as planned and the audience were enthralled.  They had watched as he shook out a large square of silk and dropped it to the ground, then whisked it away to reveal a Teddy Bear sitting there.  He made as if he was winding the bear up and it then came to life, danced around, and conducted the theatre orchestra before toddling off stage.  He had juggled with goldfish, produced two children out of a piece of cardboard and imitated various conductors of bands.  The finale had then been ‘The Lion’s Bride.’  Just as that had reached its conclusion and Lafayette and the other performers were taking their bows an electrical fault on stage caused the scenery to catch fire.  The audience at first assumed this was part of the act, until the manager had the fire curtain dropped and asked the orchestra to play the National Anthem.  This, and the fact that smoke was now pouring out into the theatre encouraged them to leave.  Remarkably they all escaped safely.  Things on the stage, behind the fire curtain, did not go so well.  The lion, which was terrified by the flames, was running loose and because of this no one could get past it to one of the fire exits.  Other performers were trapped by the flames from the burning scenery, and all was a scene of confusion.  It appears that Lafayette may have escaped from the flames at first, but on hearing of the situation with the lion had run back to try and save it.  This time he did not make it back out.

 

The theatre burned for three hours before the flames were brought under control.  The next day several bodies were recovered, and the newspapers made much of the body of Alice Dale being found.  She was the little person who had played the Teddy Bear and her charred remains were found still in the bear costume.   The body of the Great Lafayette was then found on the stage, though only it wasn’t actually his body, but rather that of his body double for several of his acts.  At the time no-one realised this and the body was cremated, and arrangements made to inter the ashes at Piershill Cemetery.  But a couple of days later another body was recovered under the rubble and this one wore an array of rings that were identified as those the Great Lafayette had worn.  Realising their error, this body was then cremated, and the urns switched to make sure the right remains went to Piershill.  In total eleven people died in the fire, all either performers or stagehands.

 

On the 14^th of May 1911, the Great Lafayette’s funeral took place.  Despite it being a misty, damp day, huge crowds turned out to watch the funeral cortege of twenty carriages make its way through Edinburgh and down to the cemetery.  The cortege was led by the hearse containing Lafayette’s remains.  It was drawn by four ‘Belgian horses’ with ‘nodding black plumes on their heads.’  At the cemetery, the urn containing Lafayette’s ashes was placed in Beauty’s coffin between the paws of the dog.  A graveside service was then held before the coffin was lowered into the ground and the Great Lafayette was laid to rest.

 

The grave of the Great Lafayette and Beauty

 

Dedication to Beauty on slab of grave

 

Signature of the Great Lafayette on slab of grave

 

Lafayette left his vast fortune to his brother who promptly took the money and left the country without paying off the debts accrued by Lafayette, and also without paying the funeral costs. This resulted in a court case from which we learn that the total cost of the funerals for both Beauty and the Great Lafayette was £411.  In today’s money that would be about £48,700.  Probably not to bad for a showbiz funeral.

 

In 2011 the Festival Theatre, which stands on the site of the old Empire Theatre, held a series of events to mark 100 years since the fire and the death of Lafayette and the other performers.

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in the flower trough by The Great Lafayette and Beauty’s grave.

 

Skulferatu #27

 

Skulferatu #27 in plant trough at front of the grave

 

Map showing location of Skulferatu #27

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

 

Latitude 55.955495

Longitude -3.138674

 

I used the following sources for the tale of The Great Lafayette –

 

Newspapers –

The Evening News, London – May 10, 1911

The Globe, May 10, 1911

The Westminster Gazette – May 10, 1911

The Scotsman – May 11, 1911.  May 13, 1911. May 15 1911.

Strabane Weekly News – May 20, 1911

Sunderland Daily Echo – May 11, 1911

The Courier – May 22, 1913

 

Wikipedia – Sigmund Neuberger

Wikipedia - Sigmund Neuberger

 

The Edinburgh Reporter

The Edinburgh Reporter - The Great Lafayette Festival 9 May 2011

 

Article and photographs are copyright of © Kevin Nosferatu, unless otherwise specified.

Skulferatu #20 - Greyfriars Kirkyard, Candlemaker Row, Edinburgh

 

Another day and another graveyard.  Greyfriars Kirkyard is probably the most famous graveyard in Edinburgh.  This was once due to the enduring story of Greyfriars Bobby, the little dog who sat on his master’s grave for years after he had died.  Now it is the Harry Potter franchise that attracts visitor after visitor to this wonderfully gothic place.

 

Detail of Gravestone at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

Gravestone at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

I used to work near to Greyfriars and at lunchtimes would often wander around the graveyard to clear my head.  Many of the graves and tombs here are steeped in the history of Edinburgh, and page after page could, and has, been written about their occupants.  There is the tomb of George ‘Bloody’ Mackenzie, the Lord Advocate who in the late 17^th Century was responsible for the prosecution and execution of many of the Covenanters.  There is the grave of Captain John Porteous, who was lynched by an angry mob after ordering his men in the City Guard to shoot into a crowd of townsfolk rioting after a public hanging.  Then there is the grave of William McGonagall, the poet who wrote some of the worst poetry known to man.  Here is a little extract from his best known work, ‘The Tay Bridge Disaster’ -

 

‘…Twas about seven o’clock at night,

And the wind it blew with all its might,

And the rain came pouring down,

And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,

And the Demon of the air seem’d to say –

I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay…’

 

Great stuff! 

 

However, the gravestone that drew my attention on one of my previous wanderings here was a simple and unadorned one for another poet and author, Franz Hedrich.  I had never heard of him, so did a little research and found that in the 1880s he was involved in a scandal that shocked the literary world.  His story is as follows…

 

Grave of Franz Hedrich

 

Franz Hedrich was born in Bohemia (present day Czech Republic) in 1823.  As an aspiring poet and author in his youth, he moved in various literary circles and in the 1840s became a close friend of the poet and author Alfred Meissner.   Hedrich also dabbled in politics and was at one point elected to the Frankfurt National Assembly as the leader of one of the parties on the extreme left.  He was then arrested and exiled for his political views.

 

In the 1850s Hedrich moved to Munich and would often spend his summers with Meissner.  During this time, according to Hedrich, Meissner came to rely on him to review and rewrite much of his new work and this eventually culminated in Hedrich writing several of Meissner’s novels for him, as his ghost-writer.  It would, however, appear that Hedrich was unhappy with this as Meissner had promised that the work would appear in their joint names.  He also felt that Meissner was pocketing most of the money and ‘awarding him only a trifle.’

 

In 1871, in Switzerland, Hedrich married Janet Barron of Edinburgh.  He then lived with her in Switzerland, France and in Scotland.  Janet appears to have been quite wealthy, having inherited a large amount of money after the death of her parents.  Whether this played any part in Hedrich falling for her we will never know, however being a man who enjoyed the finer things in life he quickly squandered much of her fortune.  Running low on money, he then began to blackmail Meissner threatening to let the world know that he had written the novels.  It would seem that through this he obtained substantial sums of money from Meissner for several years.  Then in 1885, Meissner could take no more and made a suicide attempt by slashing his own throat.  He survived this but died shortly afterwards of sepsis.  On his death bed he told his brother in law, Robert Byr, that Hedrich ‘was hunting me like a tiger.  He claimed the fortune of my children.  He was my evil genius during all my life, and I was his prisoner, so that nothing but death remains for me to escape his bondage.’

 

A few years after Meissner’s death, a collection of his works was published and included various novels that Hedrich had written.  This seems to have annoyed Hedrich and resulted in him writing a pamphlet that was then published by the Berlin firm O. Janke.  The same firm who had published Meissner’s work.  In this pamphlet Hedrich claimed authorship of most of Meissner’s novels and stated that for almost thirty years Meissner had been claiming to be the author of books that he, Hedrich, had written.  To provide proof of his claims he included copies of letters from Meissner and these showed beyond doubt that Hedrich had indeed written several novels attributed to Meissner.  Hedrich also pointed out that in several of the novels he had used a simple type of cryptogram to encode the words ‘Autor Hedrich’ to show he was the author of the work.

 

Robert Byr, Meissner’s brother in law, then made a reply to Hedrich’s accusations.  He stated that Meissner had claimed authorship and tried to sell a single novel written by Hedrich. This deed had caused him such remorse that he had then committed suicide.  Byr also claimed that Hedrich was only a collaborator in some of Meissner’s novels.  The two men had arranged this collaboration as Meissner’s name was well known, and novels appearing under his name would command a greater price than those appearing under Hedrich’s.

 

On viewing the evidence that Hedrich produced, it was accepted by the literary world that he had indeed written several of the novels appearing under Meissner’s name, and had collaborated on others.  However, it was also found that he had overstated his case and claimed authorship of some novels that were purely Meissner’s work.  

 

Hedrich did not fare well in this scandal.  He was seen by many as being dishonourable, and too ready to denounce someone who had been his close friend in order to make money.  A leading literary magazine of the time wrote of him that - ‘Hedrich had dragged Meissner in the mire…but he has degraded himself beneath the notice of respectable men in doing it.’

 

Hedrich spent his later years living in the West End of Edinburgh with his wife.  He died on 31 October 1895.

 

Well, back to my walk around Greyfriars on what was a miserable and cold February day.  A day so grey that the sun seemed to have lost its way.  A day so damp that even the stone of the tombs around me seemed to ooze out dark, cold water.  A perfect day for a walk around the graveyard, as there was no-one else stupid enough to come out in this weather.  A perfect day for being unobserved in leaving a Skulferatu in a tree just across from the grave of Franz Hedrich.

 

Skulferatu #20

 

Skulferatu #20 in tree at Greyfriars Kirkyard

 

Skulferatu #20 in tree at Greyfriars Kirkyard

  

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #20

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

Latitude 55.946205

Longitude -3.192669

 

I used the following sources for information on the Hedrich & Meissner scandal –

 

Renfrewshire Independent (Births, Marriages and Deaths)

Published 14 January 1871

 

The Scotsman (Alfred Meissner and Franz Hedrich)

Published 22 November 1889

 

The New York Times (A Literary Scandal)

Published 18 December 1889

 

The Publisher’s Weekly (Page 27)

New York

Published 12 July 1890.

 

Wikipedia articles on Franz Hedrich & Alfred Meissner

Skulferatu #19 - St Andrew's Kirk, Kirk Ports, North Berwick

 

St Andrew’s Kirk, Kirk Ports, North Berwick

 

Just off North Berwick High Street stands the rather quaint ruin of St Andrew’s Kirk.  This church was built in the 17^th Century and opened on 5 June 1664.  It was built to replace St Andrew’s Old Kirk, which stood near to the sea and had been so severely damaged by a storm that it had to be abandoned.  The ruins of the Old Kirk lie near to the Scottish Seabird Centre.   

 

With the arrival of the railway in North Berwick in 1850, the town’s population grew substantially.  By 1873 the congregation was too large for St Andrew’s Kirk and in 1882 a new and larger church opened nearby. 

 

On 3 June 1883, the last service was held in St Andrew’s Kirk and shortly after this it was partly dismantled, with various fixtures and fittings being auctioned off.  However, it was decided by the church authorities to ‘allow the walls of the church to stand in order to form a picturesque ruin…’

 

Interior of the ruins of St Andrew’s Kirk

A view of the graveyard at Kirk Ports and the ruins of St Andrew’s Kirk

Old Gravestone at Kirk Ports Graveyard

 

Carved skull on one of the old graves

 

I placed the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk around North Berwick in a gap in the wall at the church.

 

Skulferatu #19

 

Skulferatu #19 in wall at St Andrew’s Kirk

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu #19

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are –

Latitude 56.057800

Longitude -2.718484

Skulferatu #17 - New Calton Burial Ground, Edinburgh

 

I think I’ve previously mentioned that I do love a good walk around a graveyard, especially a graveyard with a bit of character.  New Calton Burial Ground is just such a graveyard.  Built on the slope of a hill with tiered graves and a watchtower overlooking it all, this graveyard has some spectacular views over Edinburgh.  So, what better place to go on a grey, dull day to take in some of Edinburgh’s unique scenery while contemplating one’s own mortality? 

 

Graves at New Calton Burial Ground, overlooked by the Watchtower

 

A view of the Watchtower

 

Near the main entrance stands the Watchtower.  This was built so that in 1820, when the cemetery opened, guard could be kept against graverobbers, or resurrectionists as they were known.  Recently buried corpses were regularly stolen from their graves to feed the need for bodies at Edinburgh’s medical schools.  The only bodies legally available to them at that time were those of executed criminals, and there just weren’t enough of those to go round.  So, a trade in illegally acquired bodies developed.  Fearing that their relatives, or indeed their own bodies when they died, may end up on the dissection table, people went to extraordinary lengths to prevent this.  These included extra deep burial, iron cages built over the grave and guards watching over the graveyard. 

 

The Watchtower was later used as a house and was occupied as such until around 1955.  Despite it being tiny, at one time it was occupied by a family of ten.  The building is now derelict and in a state of disrepair.  It is on the Buildings at Risk Register.

 

A view over New Calton Burial Ground

 

View from New Calton Burial Ground over Edinburgh to Arthur’s Seat

 

There are several notable people buried in the graveyard, such as a couple of the Lighthouse Stevensons and William Dick, the founder of the Dick Vet College in Edinburgh.  Another of the worthies whose bones lie mouldering here is the poet William Knox.  Little known nowadays, he wrote one of Abraham Lincoln’s favourite poems – Mortality.  Knox, who was seemingly related to the Presbyterian killjoy preacher John Knox, was quite unlike his austere relative and led a rather intemperate life.  He was seemingly a very jovial and much liked bloke, with many friends.  However, he was a heavy drinker who like many alcoholics found it difficult to manage his money and his day to day life.  His drinking destroyed his health and he died of a ‘paralytic stroke’ at the age of 36 on 12 November 1825.    

 

Gravestone of William Knox

 

For your delectation here is Knox’s poem Mortality in full.  It’s a lovely piece of over the top morbidity – perfect for an old Goth like me.  Enjoy –

 

MORTALITY

 

O why should the spirit of mortal be proud!
Like a fast flitting meteor, a fast flying cloud,
A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave –
He passes from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,
Be scattered around and together be laid;
As the young and the old, and the low and the high,
Shall moulder to dust, and together shall lie.

The child that a mother attended and loved,
The mother that infant’s affection that proved,
The husband that mother and infant that blest,
Each – all are away to their dwelling of rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye,
Shone beauty and pleasure – her triumphs are by:
And the memory of those that beloved her and praised,
And alike from the minds of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne,
The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn,
The eye of the sage, and the heart of the brave,
Are hidden and lost in the depths of the grave.

The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap,
The herdsman who climbed with his goats to the steep,
The beggar that wandered in search of his bread,
Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint that enjoyed the communion of Heaven,
The sinner that dared to remain unforgiven,
The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,
Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So the multitude goes – like the flower and the weed
That wither away to let others succeed;
So the multitude comes – even those we behold,
To repeat every tale that hath often been told.

For we are the same things that our fathers have been,
We see the same sights that our fathers have seen,
We drink the same stream, and we feel the same sun,
And we run the same course that our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think,
From the death we are shrinking from they too would shrink,
To the life we are clinging to, they too would cling –
But it speeds from the earth like a bird on the wing.

They loved – but their story we cannot unfold;
They scorned – but the heart of the haughty is cold;
They grieved – but no wail from their slumbers may come;
They joyed – but the voice of their gladness is dumb.

They died – ay, they died! and we, things that are now,
Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,
Who make in their dwellings a transient abode,
Meet the changes they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea, hope and despondence, and pleasure and pain,
Are mingled together like sunshine and rain:
And the smile and the tear, and the song and the dirge,
Still follow each other like surge upon surge.

‘Tis the twink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a breath,
From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,
From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud –
O why should the spirit of mortal be proud!

 

I left the Skulferatu that accompanied me on today’s walk in a hollow in a tree near the top of the graveyard.

 

Skulferatu #17

 

Skulferatu #17 in tree hollow at New Calton Burial Ground

 

Google Map showing location of Skulferatu

 

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are:

 

Latitude 55.953664

Longitude -3.177293

 

Skulferatu #6 - Polwarth Church, Greenlaw, Berwickshire

 

Polwarth Church

I remember this church from my childhood, as I walked out to it a few times with my Grandpa.  He worked in one of the nearby villages and would check on the church every so often to make sure all was in order.  Back then the key was kept above the main door so that anyone passing by could pop in to shelter or pray.  Useful when it was pouring with rain outside.  As a kid I was always fascinated by the two barred windows at the back of the church.  Sitting at ground level these windows gave a view into the crypts below, where on a good day, if you got your head into just the right position you could see some of the coffins inside.  Grandpa always said he would get hold of the keys for the crypt and show us down there, but never did.  No doubt if he had I would have been disappointed, as I was hoping to see stacks of skeletons everywhere rather than just and a few more crumbling coffins.

 

The first records of Polwarth Church are from 1242 when the Bishop of St Andrews, David de Bernham, consecrated the church and dedicated it to St Mungo.  The church was almost completely rebuilt in 1703.

 

In 1683, Sir Patrick Hume hid for four weeks in the crypt at the church after being implicated in the Rye House Plot. This was a plot to assassinate King Charles II and his brother.  His daughter, Grizel (Lady Grizel Baillie), smuggled him food while he was in hiding.  Hume and his family then fled to the Netherlands only returning to Scotland after the Glorious Revolution when King William of Orange took the crown in both England and Scotland.

 

The church closed in 2004 and was sold off by the Church of Scotland.  It is now privately owned.

Front view of Polwarth Church

Gravestone in the Churchyard

View of two coffins in the crypt

The Berwickshire poet, Robert McLean Calder (1841 to 1895) wrote a poem about the church and its congregation.  It is far too long and a little bit dull to quote in full, so here is one verse for your delectation –

 

What a quiet spot is the auld kirk-yaird,

That is a' thro' the week deserted,

Except when some mourner's wail is heard

By the grave o' some dear departed!

E'en noo on this joyous Sabbath morn

Nae jarrin' noise to the ear is borne,

For the talk is as meek as the faces worn

When they gang to the Kirk at Polart.

 

The full poem can be found at –

http://scotstext.org/roughs/robert_mclean_calder/robert_mclean_calder.asp

The Skulferatu that accompanied me on this trip was placed into a gap in the drystone wall at the back of the churchyard.

View from back of churchyard

Skulferatu #6

Skulferatu #6 left in gap in drystone wall

The coordinates for the location of the Skulferatu are: Latitude 55.738498, Longitude -2.399870.

Map of location of Skulferatu