XVI.
Remarkable particulars of the death of Dr. Walker, of Dublin, from the life of Mrs. Bellamy.
Upon our arrival at Dublin (says this lady) my mother and myself were very kindly received by an old acquaintance of hers, the lady of the well known Doctor Walker. This gentleman at that time, was esteemed so eminent in his profession, that he was accumulating by his practice a capital fortune, notwithstanding he lived in a very genteel stile. The Doctor was then writing a treatise against the Irish custom of burying the dead within a few hours after their decease. He endeavoured therein to dissuade the Hibernians from pursuing so hazardous a mode, as by interring bodies before any symptoms of putrefaction appeared, it did not unfrequently happen, that those who might have recovered their vital powers, were prevented from doing so.
When my mother heared on what subject the Doctor was writing, she related to him the story of Mrs. Godfrey (i. e. the preceding one in this book,) and as soon as she had concluded it, to shew the Doctor, how consonant her opinion on this point, was to his own, she promised him, that if she was in the same kingdom with him when the king of terrors made his approach, she would carefully attend to the state of his corpse, and take care that it should not be entombed whilst there was the least probability of its restoration to life.
In a subsequent letter, she resumes the subject, and concludes it with the following melancholy narrative.
In the afternoon I sent my servant, to enquire after our good friend Doctor Walker, who was ill of a fever. About seven she returned with a countenance expressive of horror, and informed us that the poor Doctor had died during the last night, and that they were already going to bury him. And added, that as they were about to shroud the body, the orifices which had been made in his arms, on bleeding him before his decease, had bled afresh.
As it was now so late in the evening, and the house we had lately removed to, being full two miles from the Doctor’s residence, my mother confined with the rheumatism, and myself much indisposed, rendered it impossible for either of us to reach the place of his abode, time enough to prevent his premature interment; which, but for these reasons, we certainly should have done. We likewise found that Mrs. Walker, had been prevailed on by the earnest entreatise of her sister, to leave the house and retire with her to Dunleary. My mother, therefore, ordered the servant to take a coach, and, if the corpse was interred, to have it taken up at all events, cost what it would.
You can give the common people of Ireland no greater treat than a Wake. Our maid consequently had many companions before she reached the house, especially as she made no secret of her errand. When they arrived, they learned that the body had been interred immediately after her departure, lest the disorder he died of, which was thought to be epidemic, should prove contagious. They were further informed, that as Mrs. Walker was of the sect of Anabaptists, it had been deposited, by her order, in their burying ground, which was situated at the extremity of the city.
The people who accompanied our servant, having come out with an intention of spending the night in their favourite amusement, now resolved to seek the sexton, and carry my mother’s commands into execution: but as it was late, and they could not find his house, they clambered over the gate, and thus entered the receptacle for the dead; and whilst they sat round the grave, my servant heard, or thought she heard, a groan, which made them expect, with great impatience, the return of day light.
As soon as Aurora made her appearance, some labourers, who had just come to their work, acquainted them where the sexton lived, and he was prevailed on, though not without some difficulty, to comply with their request. Accordingly, the canonized bones of the doctor, which had a few hours before been hearsed in death, revisited the glimpse of morn. Upon opening the coffin, (I shudder whilst I relate the horrid scene) they found the body now totally deprived of life, but observed, that the late inhabitant of it had endeavoured to burst his cearments, and leave the dreadful mansion in which he was confined. He had actually turned upon his side; and, as my servant had reported, his arms bled afresh. The coffin was carried to the house of the Sexton, where multitudes, excited by curiosity, flocked from all parts, to see this memorable instance of fruitless precaution. The family, however, hearing of the circumstances, the body was ordered to be re-interred, and the affair was hushed up.
Are you casuist enough to tell me, how it happens that we are generally disappointed in the grand expectations of our lives, and find our favourite wishes crossed? Never was there a more singular confirmation of this fact, than in the case of the Doctor. The fear of being buried alive, seems to have engrossed all his thoughts. The apprehensions which arose in his mind, both on his own account, and that of others, furnished him an inexhaustible fund for conversation, and gave frequent employment to his pen. The presentiment which had taken possession of him, was not to be suppressed. But, alas! how unavailing, from a combination of preventive circumstances, did it prove!—Let it serve as a document to us, not to fix our hearts with too much anxiety on any object that lies within the reach of the accidents of life, or to indulge too great apprehensions of any dreaded evils.
I was greatly affected at the melancholy accident which had just happened; but my mother was almost distracted at being obliged to break a promise she had so solemnly made, and which would have proved so consonant to the wishes of her old friend.
I have often wondered that humanity, exclusive of affection, does not prevent those, who have a regard for persons during their lives, from leaving them in their last moments, through a false tenderness, to the care of nurses and servants, who are usually insensible to every claim but those of their own ease or interest. Too susceptible of pain, from beholding the expiring pangs of a beloved object, they hasten from it; whereas, that ought to be the strongest motive for their stay, as these would stimulate them to unremitted assiduity in administering every needful assistance whilst life remains, and to a due attention to the body till its interment.