In 1776, The king of France prohibited the burying in churches.
“Two respectable correspondents,” observes a writer, in one of the early volumes of the Monthly Magazine, have very properly censured and exposed the indecency, and even danger, of burying in churches and in towns. In addition to their remarks and anecdotes, allow me a place, if you can, for an extract from a very scarce discourse, by that learned and eminently pious prelate, Joseph Hall, preached at Exeter, August the 24th, 1637, on the consecration of a new burial place. The text, which is very applicable, and admirably elucidated, is Genesis, the 23rd chapter, 19th and 20th verses.—“And after this, Abraham buried Sarah his wife in the cave of the field Machpelah, before Mamre, the same is Hebron in the land of Canaan. And the field, and the cave that is therein, were made sure to Abraham for a possession of a burying place by the sons of Heth.”
After making several pertinent observations on the subject, the excellent Bishop says: “Hitherto that there must be a meet place, a place fixed and designed for the burial of the dead; now let us a little look into the choice of the place; it was a field, and a cave in that field; a field not sub-tecto, but sub-dio; a field before Mamre, a city that took its name from the owner, Abraham’s assistant in his war; before it, not in it; and indeed both these are fit and exemplary: it was the ancientest and best way that sepultures should be without the gates of the city; hence you find that our Saviour met the bier of the widow’s son as he was carried out of the gates of Nain to his burial; and hence of old was wont to be that proclamation of the Roman funerals, allus cefertur feras. And we find that Joseph of Arimathea, had his private burial place in his garden without the City, (for it was near to Calvary) and so was Lazarus, his sepulchre without Bethany. Our Saviour staid in the field, till the sisters came forth to him, and the neighbours came forth after them: so they went together to the sepulchre. And certainly much might be said to this purpose for the convenience of our funerals, without respect of those Jewish grounds, who held a kind of impurity in the corpses of the dead; but that which might be said, is rather out of matter of wholesomness and civil considerations, than out of the grounds of theology. In time, this rite of burial, did so creep within the walls, that it insinuated itself into churches, yea, into the Holy of Holies,—Choirs, and chancels, near unto the holy table, God’s evangelical altar; but I must tell you, this custom hath found entertainment only in the Western churches, that is, those that were of correspondence with the Roman; for the Greek church allows no such practice, and the Roman at first admitted it very sparingly, so as (elim episcopi, et alii principes sépelie bantur in ecclesia) none but princes and bishops (as Martinus Vivaldus) were of old interred in churches; afterwards the privileges grew larger, to other eminent benefactors into the church, and none but them: and now that it is grown so common, both in our churches and the Roman, we may thank partly superstition, partly ambition and covetousness; superstition of them that think the holiness of the place doth not a little avail the soul; ambition of those that love these (πρωτοκλισιας) both living and dead: covetousness of those greedy hucksters of the church of Rome, who upon the sale of their suffrages, raise the prices of their holy ground to their unreasonable advantages. But to speak freely, what I think concerning this so common practice, I must need say, I cannot but hold it very unfit and inconvenient, both, first in respect of the majesty, it is the Lord’s House, the palace of the King of Heaven; and what prince would have his court made a charnel-house? How well soever we loved our deceased friends, yet when their life is dissolved, there is none of us but would be loath to have their corpses inmates with us in our houses; and why should we think fit to offer that to God’s house which we should be loath to endure in our own.—Secondly, in regard of the annoyance of the living; for the air (kept close within walls) arising from dead bodies, must needs be offensive, as we find by daily experience, more offensive now than of old to God’s people: they buried with odours, the fragrancy whereof was a good antidote for this inconvenience; (“she did this to bury me,” saith our Saviour). Not so with us; so as the air receives no other tincture than what arises from the evaporation of corrupted bodies. But though I approve not common buryings within the church, as not deeming that a fit bestowage for the dead; yet forasmuch as the church is a place of most public resort and use, I cannot mislike that in some meet parts, whether floors, or pillars, or walls, (especially of the side chapels pertaining thereto) there be memorials or monuments of worthy and well deserving Christians, whereby their knowledge and precious remembrances may be perpetuated to posterity.”
Thus far the worthy Bishop, on this indecent and unwholesome practice: to which I shall only add (observes the writer) a quotation from Mr. Strutt, who informs us, “that before the time of Christianity, it was held unlawful to bury the dead within the cities, but they used to carry them out into the fields hard by, and there deposit them. Towards the end of the sixth century, Augustine obtained of king Ethelbert, a temple of idols, (where the king used to worship before his conversion) and made a burying place of it; but St Cuthbert afterwards obtained leave to have yards made to the churches, proper for the reception of the dead.”
At a funeral in St. Mary’s church, at Montpellier, a porter happened to tumble into the vault, where several corpses had been deposited; and, not returning again, his brother, who perceived that his candle had gone out, went down to help him up, but neither did he return, nor made the least outcry; a third did the like, without uttering a syllable; at length a fourth, perceiving they were all in the dark, ventured to be let down by a rope, with a light in his hand, to see what was the matter. This man finding himself attacked with a noisome vapour, when he was half way down, begged to be drawn up again, and upon being let blood, recovered. The other three were hawled out with hooks fixed to the ends of poles, having no remains of life. The sexton affirmed that something of the like nature had formerly happened in another vault. These dead men were in a manner covered over with a wet mud, whose stench was such, that nobody cared to touch them. A few days after, (says Mr. de Sauvage, the writer of this account) I went to the place, and by a line let down cats of different ages, birds and dogs, about seven feet deep into the vault. The young cats died convulsed, in about three minutes; the old ones in half a minute, or less. Lighted flambeaus went out before they were well under the surface of the ground, as though they had been dipped in water.
In order to examine (observes this gentleman) into the nature of this vapour, I drew some of it up from the bottom of the vault, in a glass bucket, as if it had been water; candles were extinguished, and birds suffocated in it in an instant. If any of it was conveyed into a phial, an exhalation issued out of the orifice, to which a candle being applied, it was not extinguished; but if introduced within the mouth, went out immediately. It was considerably heavier than air, for if the phial was inclined, the vapour yielded to the position, and laid horizontally; and if the vapour was poured into another phial, to whose bottom a bit of lighted wax candle was fixed, it put it out as soon as it arose as high as the flame. This vapour, after having been kept in phials, well stopped, for several months, retained its poisonous quality as strong as at first. Is not this a proof of the perniciousness of burying vaults in churches, and do not many popular diseases very probably arise from this filthy custom?