INTRODUCTION.
Amongst the many dreadful calamities incident to human nature, none surely is more horrid, nor can the thought be more appalling, than even in idea to be buried alive;—the very soul sickens at the thought. Yet terribly frightful as the imagination paints such a dire event, these things have been. Historical record clearly demonstrates the melancholy truth, and many a valuable member of society, has, I am fully persuaded, times past, been prematurely consigned to the grave before the vital spark has been extinct. To prevent, if possible, such deplorable events from ever again happening, is my principal motive in forming the present volume. The substance of a motto, I have somewhere seen, several years since, on a silver medal, whereon is prettily displayed the figure of a boy blowing with his mouth at a piece of lighted charcoal nearly extinguished, in hopes of again re-invigorating the flame, has ever since been indelibly impressed on my mind. “Who knows,” says the motto, “but one spark, may yet remain alive.” And I would recommend a similar impression to be deeply fixed on the minds of every person, as a standing criterion in all doubtful cases between life and death. It is a duty incumbent on ourselves, our friends and relatives, and the community at large, to be thus particular in such a momentous affair. Who amongst us, give me leave to ask, that has the least pretensions to common humanity, would hesitate for a single moment to perform so generous, though painful a duty, as that of carefully attending to the sad expiring moments of a departing friend? The duty must be reciprocal to every benevolent being, as sooner or later, the dreadful trial must be our own. From a sad mistaken humanity, surrounding friends are sometimes apt to persuade the nearest relatives that nothing more can be done for the dying person, and therefore prevent them from performing those kind offices of closing the eyes, and other marks of attention, which can only be expected from those who are deeply interested. Surely such a bounden duty as this, ought not to be left (as is too often the case) to some wretched mercenary nurse, or greedy hireling? forbid it humanity! I would recommend it to all surviving relatives, and others, who are interested, and have been attending with the kindest assiduity on the sick, not to desert their post, the moment the nurse has reported the death of her patient, but in this trying hour, if grief has not too much overpowered them, to exert every necessary recollection, to calm their feelings as much as human nature will permit, and if possible, not be persuaded to quit the room too hastily, (unless contagion is apprehended) nor suffer the poor departed friend to be stripped and pulled about, until indubitable signs clearly demonstrate life is no more. Many of the stories in this volume, well attested by regular bred professional gentlemen, of the highest respectability, expatiates largely on this humane, and interesting subject, and I would fain flatter myself, such necessary advice as they impart on so very important a subject, will cause in future in every family, a more than usual care and examination of their friends in the hour of death, and prior to interment. Were we but to bear in our minds the following animated lines from a celebrated poet, our attention to dying friends would be unremitting.
“Spirits fly swift (our friend’s) perhaps is gone
A thousand leagues beyond the sun,
Or twice ten thousand more twice told,
Ere the forsaken clay is cold.
“And yet, who knows; the friends we lov’d,
They may not be so far remov’d;
Only the veil of flesh between,
May oft glide by us, tho’ unseen.
“While we (their loss lamenting) say,
They’re out of hearing, far away;
Guardians to us, perhaps they’re near
Conceal’d in vehicles of air.”
The danger which has arisen from burying in churches, and confined church yards, is so clearly proved by several remarkable instances in the present volume, that I shall say little more on the subject, but refer my readers to those important truths for information. Where it is absolutely necessary, a great number of dead bodies must be deposited in one small piece of ground, I would recommend a plan to be observed, something similar to the following, which I am of opinion, would prevent great confusion and danger, when a new grave is about to be opened. Let burying grounds in future, be divided into regular sections, of sufficient length and breadth, to admit of the largest human body, male or female. Over each of these divisions, regularly and distinctly mark in numerals from 1 to 100, more or less, according to the size of the ground. Then let the parish clerk, sexton, or some other proper person, keep an alphabetical ruled form, whereon must be regularly entered the day of the month, and year the person died in, christian and sir name of the deceased, parish where they resided, and a space annexed for the number and side of the wall, under which the defunct was buried, in like manner.
REGISTER OF FUNERALS.
| Name of the Deceased. | Time of Death. | Of what Parish belonging. | No. | Under what wall buried. |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Addison, Richard. | 1816. January 1. | St. Leonard’s Shoreditch. | 1. | South wall. |
| Barckley, Thomas. | February 18. | St. Vedast, Foster Lane. | 12. | North wall. |
I know not whether any similar plan to the above has ever yet been adopted, if not, I think great waste of ground may be prevented, and impure vapours greatly kept under. By duly attending to this register of death, (if I may be allowed the term) a regular gradation will constantly be attended to: this, will in a great measure prevent danger to the grave-digger, and the surrounding inhabitants. For instance, suppose a body to be laid in the grave under No. 1, a second under No. 2, a third under No. 3, and so on in like manner, until the whole number of spaces in the cemetery is filled up. By the time the last numbered grave is opened, if the burying ground is large, the first body buried under No. 1, will very probably be reduced to ashes, so that there will then be room to begin again in the same progressive manner: and if the body should not be quite dissolved (which can easily be ascertained by a reference to the above register) a few layers of earth and straw must be allowed as a barrier between the first and last corpse interred in the same grave. A little attention to some such method as this, would I am inclined to think, tend greatly to prevent danger in all confined church yards, preserve very frequently the life of the grave-digger, and render the air more pure and wholesome to the surrounding inhabitants of such doleful places. Another improvement may likewise be introduced, which would greatly tend to disperse all noxious effluvia, and make these dormitories less gloomy and unwholesome, I mean where the ground is sufficiently capacious, to plant it with certain shrubs and flowers. Many of the Eastern Nations are very particular in this respect, and set us a rare example for improvement. In the Great Mogul’s dominions, no places afford more delight to travellers, than their burying grounds. Their tombs are either built round, square, or with six or eight corners, and covered over archwise, and the remaining part of the ground is planted with fruit trees, and flowers, just as if they were laying out and planting an elysium. How preferable must places of this description be to our confined, and too often dirty habitations for the dead.
Respecting the sepulchral Lamps of the Ancients, however some people may be inclined to ridicule and discredit such reports, the descriptions are most certainly too curious and interesting to be omitted in a work of this kind. I have therefore selected from the most respectable documents, those records I conceived applicable to my work and deserving of notice. They are such descriptions, as I think ought to be paid much attention to, for in this age of invention, when chemistry is brought to great perfection, and many modern arts are on investigation, only found to be improvements of the Ancients, as is the case with the Gas-lights which shine so refulgent through our streets, it may probably by the philosophic experimentalist, at some future period be discovered by what art the Ancients constructed those perpetual lights which have so often been found in their sepulchres. Surely nothing can be too great for imitation. If the Mausoleums of our monarchs, and the tombs of the great could be illuminated, with a durable pale, silvery, phosphoric light, (which I do not conceive at all impracticable) it would render the mansions of the dead less terrific, be awfully grand and sublime, and transmit to posterity the improvements of the age. The idea of a continual light burning in our tombs after our decease, would to many, I am well convinced be so comfortable an anticipation, that the fear of death would be less dreadful, than when we expect, after the dread catastrophe, to remain for years in darkness.
That these, my humble efforts for the public good, or that any of the subsequent stories may be instrumental in preserving the life of but one fellow-creature, or that the hints I have treated so superficially, may induce some abler pen to enlarge on a subject so very important to all mankind, then will my utmost ambition be fully gratified.
J. TAYLOR.
Newington,
Nov. 18th, 1815.
THE
DANGER
OF
Premature Interment,
&c. &c.
Aristotle asserted, that it was more just to assist the dead than the living. Plato, in his Republic, does not forget, amongst other parts of justice, that which concerns the dead. Cicero establishes three kinds of justice; the first respects the Gods, the second the manes, or dead, and the third men. These principles seem to be drawn from nature, and they appear at least, to be necessary for the support of society, since at all times civilized nations have taken care to bury their dead, and to pay their last respects to them.
We find in history, several traces of the respect which the Indians, the Egyptians, and the Syrians entertained for the dead. The Syrians embalmed their bodies with myrrh, aloes, honey, salt, wax, bitumen, and resinous gums; they dried them also with the smoke of the fir and the pine tree. The Egyptians preserved theirs with the resin of the cedar, with aromatic spices, and with salt. These people often kept such mummies, or at least their effigies, in their houses, and at grand entertainments they were introduced, that by reciting the great actions of their ancestors, they might be better excited to virtue.—How different is this respect for the dead, from that practised at present?
The Greeks, at first, had probably not the same veneration for the dead as the Egyptians. Empedocles, therefore, in the eighty fourth Olympiad, restored to life Ponthia, a woman of Agrigentum, who was about to be interred. But this people, in proportion as they grew civilized, becoming more enlightened, perceived the necessity of establishing laws for the protection of the dead.
At Athens, the law required that no person should be interred before the third day; and in the greater part of the cities of Greece, a funeral did not take place till the sixth or seventh. When a man appeared to have breathed his last, his body was generally washed by his nearest relations with warm water mixed with wine. They afterwards anointed it with oil, and covered it with a dress, commonly made of fine linen, according to the custom of the Egyptians. This dress was white at Messina, Athens, and in the greater part of the cities of Greece, where the dead body was crowned with flowers. At Sparta it was of a purple colour, and the body was surrounded with olive leaves. The body was afterwards laid upon a couch in the entry of the house, where it remained till the time of the funeral. At the magnificent obsequies which Alexander honoured Ephestion, the body was not burned till the tenth day.
The Romans in the infancy of their empire, paid as little attention to their dead as the Greeks had done. Acilius Aviola having fallen into a lethargic fit, was supposed to be dead; he was therefore carried to the funeral pile; the fire was lighted up; and though he cried out that he was still alive, he perished for want of speedy assistance. The Praetor Lamiæ met with the same fate. Tubero, who had been Praetor was also saved from the funeral pile. Asclepiades a physician, who lived in the time of Pompey the Great, about one hundred and twenty years before the Christian æra, returning from his country house, observed near the walls of Rome, a grand convoy and a crowd of people, who were in mourning assisting at a funeral, and shewing every exterior sign of the deepest grief. Having asked what was the occasion of this concourse, no one made any reply. He therefore approached the pretended dead body, and imagining that he perceived signs of life in it, he ordered the by-standers to take away the flambeaux, to extinguish the fire, and to pull down the funeral pile. A kind of murmur on this arose throughout the whole company. Some said that they ought to believe the physician, while others turned both him and his profession into ridicule. The relations however yielded at length to the remonstrances of Asclepiades; they consented to defer the obsequies for a little, and the consequence was the restoration of the pretended dead person to life. It appears that these examples, and several others of the like nature, induced the Romans to delay funerals longer, and to enact laws to prevent precipitate interments.
At Rome, after allowing a sufficient time for mourning, the nearest relation generally closed the eyes of the deceased, and the body was bathed with warm water, either to render it fitter for being anointed with oil, or to reanimate the principle of life, which might remain suspended, without manifesting itself. Proofs were afterwards made, to discover whether the person was really dead, which were often repeated during the time that the body remained exposed; for there were persons appointed to visit the dead, and to prove their situation. On the second day, after the body had been washed a second time, it was anointed with oil and balm. Luxury encreased to such a pitch in the choice of foreign perfumes for this purpose, that under the consulship of Licinius Crassus, and Julius Cæsar, the senate forbad any perfumes to be used, except such as were the production of Italy. On the third day the body was clothed according to its dignity and condition. The robe called the prætexta was put upon magistrates, and a purple robe upon consuls; for conquerors who had merited triumphal honours, this robe was of gold tissue. For other Romans it was white, and black for the lower classes of the people. These dresses were often prepared at a distance, by the mothers and wives of persons still in life. On the fourth day the body was placed on a couch, and exposed in the vestibule of the house, with the visage turned towards the entrance, and the feet near the door; in this situation it remained till the end of the week. Near the couch were lighted wax tapers, a small box in which perfumes were burnt, and a vessel full of water, for purification, with which those who approached the body besprinkled themselves. An old man, belonging to those who furnished every thing necessary for funerals, sat near the deceased, with some domestics clothed in black. On the eighth day the funeral rites were performed; but to prevent the body from corrupting before that time, salt, wax, the resinous gum of the cedar, myrrh, honey, balm, gypsum, lime, asphaltes, or bitumen of Judea, and several other substances, were employed. The body was carried to the pile with the face uncovered, unless wounds, or the nature of the disease had rendered it loathsome and disgusting. In such a case, a mask was used made of a kind of plaister, which has given rise to the expression of funera lavasta, used in some of the ancient authors. This was the last method of concealment which Nero made use of, after having caused Germanicus to be poisoned: for the effect of the poison had become very sensible by livid spots and the blackness of the body, but a shower of rain happening to fall, it washed the plaister entirely away, and thus the horrid crime of fratricide was discovered.
The Turks have, at all times, been accustomed to wash the bodies of their dead before interment: and as their ablutions are complete, and as no part of the body escapes the attention of those who assist at such melancholy ceremonies, they can easily perceive whether one be really dead or alive, by examining, among other methods of proof, whether the sphincter anis has lost its power of contraction. If this muscle remains still contracted, they warm the body, and endeavour to recal it to life; otherwise, after having washed it with water and soap, they wipe it with linen cloths, wash it again with rose water, and aromatic substances, cover it with a rich dress, put upon its head a cap ornamented with flowers, and extend it upon a carpet, placed in the vestibule, or hall, at the entrance of the house.
The Jews, after having washed the body, and anointed it with aromatic substances of a more or less agreeable odour, according to the rank and riches of the deceased, bind it round afterwards with bandages of linen, and cover the head with a handkerchief.
In the primitive church the dead were washed and then anointed; the body was wrapped up in linen, or clothed in a dress of more or less value, according to circumstances, and it was not interred till after being exposed, and kept some days in the house. The custom of clothing the dead is preserved in France only for princes and ecclesiastics.
In other countries, more or less care is taken to prevent sudden interments. At Geneva, there are people appointed to inspect all dead bodies. Their duty consists in examining whether the person be really dead, and whether they died naturally, or by violence. In the North, as well as at Genoa, it is usual not to bury the dead till three days have expired. In Holland people carry their precautions much farther, and delay the funerals longer. In Spain, the dead are generally clothed in the dresses of the religious. And in Germany they are dressed in clothes more or less splendid, with their faces uncovered, and are generally laid in that apartment, which is nearest the door.
In England, the poorest people keep their dead four or five days, and sometimes longer and the nearest relations are invited to see them exposed. If they happen to be buried sooner, this precipitation excites suspicions among the neighbours, who never fail to address themselves to the magistrates, and to take the body from the grave, that they may examine whether it bears any traces of violence.
It is not only in Europe that precautions are taken against precipitate burials. In Asia, when an inhabitant of the kingdom of Boutain dies, the body is kept in the house three days all of which are spent in singing and prayers.
If we instead of following the example of those people, have forgotten that respect which the ancients entertained for the dead, it is owing to the prejudices of our education imbibed in infancy. In that early age nurses and ignorant servants instil into children those absurdities which they themselves have adopted, and such prejudices are the most difficult to be overcome. Scarcely has one ceased to live, when he becomes an object of horror.
The body is abandoned to a set of mercenary people, who begin by dragging it from a warm bed to place it on some cold straw. Soon after devotion, or the desire of gain, draws together the undertakers, who first cover the head and face with a kind of cap, in the shape of a bag. Sometimes they put cotton into the mouth, the ears, and even into the fundament, if the last precaution has not been taken before their arrival. This cotton is placed there to prevent the body from staining the linen in which it is wrapped up. They then bind the breast and arms round with a bandage, and make another pass round the lower part of the belly; the latter comprehends the arms from the elbows, and serves also to enclose the feet: after this the undertakers wrap up the whole body in a sheet, which they fix at both the extremities, and either sew or fasten it with pins, observing always to confine the body as closely as they can. It is thus that a man is prepared for his coffin; but it would be difficult to pursue a more pernicious method, even if one had an intention of accelerating death, or of rendering it impossible for a person to return to life.
The cold to which a dying man is exposed, that he may not dirty himself, is attended with the greatest danger, for while the sphincter remains in contraction, there exists within us some remains of irritability, and consequently of life. The discharge of the intestinal matter, is the Ultimum vitæ. Thus whilst a child has not yet voided the mecronium, the man midwife, notwithstanding the most dismal symptoms, still hopes to recal it to life. On the contrary, the appearance of this excrement, is considered by him as a certain sign of death. The stopping of the anus, is attended with no less inconvenience, as it prevents the action of the parts in which life still subsists; for the Abbé Spalanzani has proved, that digestion continues for some time after a person’s death. If these parts could afterwards recover force, and irritability enough to reanimate the other organs, the closing the anus would necessarily become an obstacle to their salutary action. The different situations given to a body, is sufficient when it has arrived at the last degree of weakness, to cause or to accelerate death. Of this, however, people are not sufficiently aware, when they take away the pillow from a dying person, which is after done, and place the body upon a straw mattrass. Besides, during life, there exhales continually from the cavities of the head, from the breast, and from the belly, a vapour, which is always absorbed by the vessels; but if this vapour be condensed by the cold, it thickens into drops as may be seen by breathing upon a glass, and then an expansion takes place, which interrupts the action of the vessels, and opposes the return of life. Humanity protests against such a detestable mode of procedure; it tells us that we ought to allow sick people to expire in a good warm bed, and to remove all those causes which may shorten the period of their lives.
People are buried sometimes five or six hours after their apparent death, yet how many examples have we seen of the principle of life existing a long time after the motion of the heart and arteries has ceased. We knew that the heart generally weakens by degrees, that its power ends by not being any longer in a condition to force the blood into the arteries, that this blood flows towards the large vessels and that the circulation ceases; but if the tonic motion still subsists, the circulation may be re-established, and it is above all in the exterior part of the body, that it may be put in play to act upon the blood. Being therefore excited by frictions upon the skin, and by insufflation into the intestines, according to the practice of the Acadians, it has often brought to life people taken from the water, who to all appearance were dead. But when the body is buried, the exterior parts are cold, and in a state of compression; besides it is not sufficient that this tonic motion should be excited: one must also remove those obstacles which prevent it from spreading, and giving play to the organs of the pulse, and of respiration; but the pressure made upon the breast and upon the belly, while the mouth is shut, and sometimes stuffed with cotton, becomes an object almost insurmountable. The pressure upon the belly is attended with this great disadvantage, that it opposes the sinking of the diaphragm, thus preventing respiration, and besides compressing the intestines, which are generally the last part in which the vital principle subsists. It results then from this precipitate custom, either that the remains of life are sometimes extinguished, or that they are oppressed for a time, so that no one never revives, but amidst the horrors of the grave.
The difference between the end of a weak life, and the commencement of death, is so small, and the uncertainty of the signs of the latter is so well established, both by ancient and modern authors, who have turned their attention to that important object, that we can scarcely suppose undertakers capable of distinguishing an apparent from a real death. Animals which sleep during winter, shew no signs of life; in this case, circulation is only suspended; but were it annihilated, the vital spark does not so easily lose its action, as the other fluids of the body: and the principle of life, which long survives the appearance of death, may reanimate a body, in which the action of all the organs seem to be at an end. But how difficult is it to determine, whether this principle may not be revived? It has been found impossible to recal to life some animals suffocated by mephitic vapours, though they appeared less affected than others who have revived. Coldness, heaviness of the body, a leaden livid colour, with a yellowness in the visage, are all very uncertain signs. Mr. Zimmerman observed them all upon the body of a criminal, who fainted through the dread of that punishment which he had merited. He was shaken, dragged about, and turned in the same manner as dead bodies without the least signs of resistance, and yet at the end of twenty four hours, he was recalled to life by means of volatile alkali.
It is certain that life, when to all appearance lost, may often, by due care, be restored. Accidents frequently prove fatal, merely because proper means are not used to counteract their effects. No person ought to be looked upon as killed by any accident, unless where the structure of the heart, brain, or some organ necessary to life, is evidently destroyed. The action of these organs may be so far impaired, as even to be for some time imperceptible, when life is by no means gone. In this case, however, if the fluids be suffered to grow cold, it will be impossible to put them again in motion, even though the solids should recover their power of acting. Thus, when the motion of the lungs has been stopped by unwholesome vapour, the action of the heart by a stroke on the breast, or the functions of the brain by a blow on the head, if the person be suffered to grow cold, he will in all probability continue so; but, if the body be kept warm, as soon as the injured part has recoverd its power of acting, the fluids will again begin to move, and all the vital functions will be restored.
It is a horrid custom, immediately to consign over to death every person who has the misfortune, by a fall, a blow, or the like, to be deprived of the appearance of life. The unhappy person, instead of being carried into a warm house, and laid by the fire, or put to a warm bed, is generally hurried away to church, or a barn, or some other cold damp house, where, after a fruitless attempt has been made to bleed him, perhaps by one who knew nothing of the matter, he is given over for dead, and no further notice taken of him. This conduct seems to be the result of ignorance, supported by an ancient superstitious notion, which forbids the body of any person killed by accident to be laid in an house that is inhabited. What the ground of this superstition may be, we shall not pretend to inquire; but surely the conduct founded upon it, is contrary to all the principles of reason, humanity, and common sense.
When a person seems to be suddenly deprived of life, our first business is to inquire into the cause. We ought carefully to observe whether any substance be lodged in the wind-pipe or gullet; and, if that is the case, attempts must be made to remove it. When unwholesome air is the cause, the patient ought immediately to be removed out of it. If the circulation be suddenly stopped, from any cause whatever, except mere weakness, the patient should be bled. If the blood does not flow, he may be immersed in warm water, or rubbed with warm cloths, &c. to promote the circulation. When the cause cannot be suddenly removed, our great aim should be to keep up the vital warmth by rubbing the patient with hot cloths, or salt, and covering his body with warm sand, ashes, or the like.