CHAPTER VI.

FORMALITIES AND THEIR FATAL CONSEQUENCES.

Whenever grave-yards have been removed, owing to the rapid expansion of towns, in America, or examined elsewhere, unmistakable evidences of premature burial have been disclosed, as will be seen in this volume; bodies have been found turned upon their faces, the limbs contorted, with hair dishevelled, the clothing torn, the flesh mutilated, and coffins broken by the inmates in their mad endeavour to escape after returning consciousness, to terminate life only in unspeakable mental and physical agonies. It may be said that every grave-yard has its traditions, but the facts are carefully concealed lest they should reach the ears of the relatives, or incriminate the doctors who had with such confidence certified to actual deaths which were only apparent. It is not, however, the custom to remove grave-yards in Europe until all possibility of such discoveries has disappeared. To reopen a grave is to break the seal of domestic grief. There is a widespread belief that where a coffin, with a duly certified corpse,—dead or alive,—has been screwed up, it must not be opened without an authorisation from a magistrate, mayor, or other official, and many people have been suffocated in their coffins while waiting for this formality. Common sense, under the circumstances, seems to be often paralysed.

In England it has been decided, Reg. v. Sharpe (1 Dearsley and Bell, 160), to be a misdemeanour to disinter a body without lawful authority, even where the motive of the offender was pious and laudable; and a too rigorous interpretation of this and similar enactments in other countries has led to the suffocation of many unfortunate victims of a mistaken medical diagnosis, whose lives, by prompt interposition, might have been saved.

Köppen, in his work, entitled “Information Relative to Persons who have been Buried Alive,” Halle, 1799, dedicated to His Majesty the King of Prussia, Frederick William III., quotes the following amongst a large number of cases of premature burial:—“In D——, the Baroness F—— died of small-pox. She was kept in her house three days, and then put in the family vault. After a time, a noise of knocking was heard in the vault, and the voice of the Baroness was also heard. The authorities were informed; and instead of opening the door with an axe, as could have been done, the key was sent for, which took three or four hours before the messenger returned with it. On opening the vault it was found that the lady was lying on her side, with evidences of having suffered terrible agony.”

Struve, in his essay on “Suspended Animation,” 1803, p. 71, relates the following:—“A beggar arrived late at night, and almost frozen to death, at a German village, and, observing a school-house open, resolved to sleep there. The next morning, the school-boys found the poor man sitting motionless in the room, and hastened, affrighted, to inform the schoolmaster of what they had seen. The villagers, supposing the beggar to be dead, interred him in the evening. During the night, the watchman heard a knocking in the grave, accompanied by lamentations. He gave information to the bailiff of the village, who declined to listen to his tale. Soon afterwards the watchman returned to the grave, and again heard a hollow noise, interrupted by sighs. He once more hastened to the magistrate, earnestly soliciting him to cause the grave to be opened; but the latter, being irresolute, delayed this measure till the next morning, when he applied to the sheriff, who lived at a distance from the village, in order to obtain the necessary directions. He was, however, obliged to wait some time before an interview took place.A MAGISTRATE CENSURED. The more judicious sheriff severely censured the magistrate for not having opened the grave on the information from the watchman, and desired him to return and cause it to be opened without delay. On his arrival, the grave was immediately opened; but, just Heaven! what a sight! The poor, wretched man, after having recovered in the grave, had expired for want of air. In his anguish and desperation he had torn the flesh from his arms. All the spectators were struck with horror at this dreadful scene.”

The Undertakers’ Journal, November 22, 1880, relates the following:—

“An extraordinary story is reported from Tredegar, South Wales. A man was buried at Cefn Golan Cemetery, and it is alleged that some of those who took part in carrying the body to the burial-ground heard knocking inside the coffin. No notice was taken of the affair at the time, but it has now come up again, and the rumour has caused a painful sensation throughout the district. It is stated that application has been made to the Home Secretary for permission to exhume the body.”