Premature Burial and How It May Be Prevented

CHAPTER V.

NARROW ESCAPES FROM PREMATURE BURIAL.

Almost every intelligent and observant person you converse with, if the subject is introduced, has either known or heard of narrow escapes of premature burial within his or her own circle of friends or acquaintances; and it is no exaggeration to say that such cases are numbered by thousands. It is to be hoped that the number of timely discoveries vastly exceed those actually interred in a state of suspended animation; but as no investigation of grave-yards or cemeteries (which effectually conceal their own tragedies) has ever taken place in England until the remains are reduced to dust, and rarely in other countries, one cannot be sure that this optimistic view is correct. The following cases of narrow escape appear to rest upon trustworthy evidence.

An apparent suspension of life, following a serious illness, is usually considered a satisfactory proof of the reality of the expected death; but these conditions cannot always be relied upon. Cases are on record where the objects of such simulacra of death appear, if let alone, to gather the essence of renewed vitality, and return to consciousness. The Undertakers’ and Funeral Directors’ Journal of May, 1888, has a case in point.

“Mrs. Lockhart, of Birkhill, who died in 1825, used to relate to her grandchildren the following anecdote of her ancestor, Sir William Lindsay, of Covington, towards the close of the seventeenth century:—‘Sir William was a humorist,A RESUSCITATED HUMORIST. and noted, moreover, for preserving the picturesque appendage of a beard at a period when the fashion had long passed away. He had been extremely ill, and life was at last supposed to be extinct, though, as it afterwards turned out, he was merely in a “dead faint” or trance. The female relatives were assembled for the “chesting”—the act of putting a corpse into a coffin, with the entertainment given on such melancholy occasions—in a lighted chamber in the old tower of Covington, where the “bearded knight” lay stretched upon his bier. But when the servants were about to enter to assist at the ceremonies, Isabella Somerville, Sir William’s great-granddaughter, and Mrs. Lockhart’s grandmother, then a child, creeping close to her mother, whispered into her ear, “The beard is wagging! the beard is wagging!” Mrs. Somerville, upon this, looked to the bier, and observing indications of life in the ancient knight, made the company retire, and Sir William soon came out of his faint. Hot bottles were applied and cordials administered, and in the course of the evening he was able to converse with his family. They explained that they had believed him to be actually dead, and that arrangements had even been made for his funeral. In answer to the question, “Have the folks been warned?” (i.e., invited to the funeral) he was told that they had—that the funeral day had been fixed, an ox slain, and other preparations made for entertaining the company. Sir William then said, “All is as it should be; keep it a dead secret that I am in life, and let the folks come.” His wishes were complied with, and the company assembled for the burial at the appointed time. After some delay, occasioned by the non-arrival of the clergyman, as was supposed, and which afforded an opportunity of discussing the merits of the deceased, the door suddenly opened, when, to their surprise and terror, in stepped the knight himself, pale in countenance and dressed in black, leaning on the arm of the minister of the parish of Covington. Having quieted their alarm and explained matters, he called upon the clergyman to conduct an act of devotion, which included thanksgiving for his recovery and escape from being buried alive. This done, the dinner succeeded. A jolly evening, after the manner of the time, was passed, Sir William himself presiding over the carousals.’”

Dr. J. B. VignÉ, in his “Memoire sur les Inhumations PrÉcipitÉes,” Paris, 1839, narrates the following:— “Mr. B., an inhabitant of Poitiers, fell suddenly into a state resembling death; every means for bringing him back to life were used without interruption; from continued dragging, his two little fingers were dislocated, and the soles of his feet were burnt; but, all these having produced no sensation in him, he was thought decidedly dead. As they were on the point of placing him in his coffin, some one recommended that he should be bled in both arms and feet at the same time, which was immediately done, and with such success that, to the astonishment of all, he recovered from his apparent state of death. When he had entirely recovered his senses, he declared that he had heard every word that had been said, and that his only fear was that he would be buried alive.”

APPARENT DEATH IN PREGNANCY.

Hufeland (one of the greatest authorities on the subject in Germany), in his essay upon the uncertainty of the signs of death, tells of a case of the wife of Professor Camerer, of TÜbingen, who was hysterical, and had a fright in the sixth month of her pregnancy, which brought on convulsions (eclampsia), which continued for four hours, when she seemed to die completely. Two celebrated physicians, besides three others of less note, regarded the case as ended in death, as all the recognised signs of death were present. However, attempts to revive her were at once resorted to, and were continued for five hours, when all the medical attendants, except one, gave the case up, and left. The physician who remained pulled off a blister-plaster that had been put on one of the feet, when the lady gave feeble signs of life by twitchings about the mouth. The doctor then renewed his efforts to revive her, by various stimulating means, and by burning, and by pricking the spine; but all in vain, for after her slight evidences of revival, she seemed to die unmistakably. She lay in a state of apparent death for six days, but there was a small space over the heart where a little warmth could be detected by the hand, and on this account the burial was put off. On the seventh day she opened her eyes, and slowly revived, but was completely unconscious of all that had happened. She then gave birth to a dead child, and soon thereafter recovered her health completely.

From the Lancet, November 27, 1858, p. 561.

“THE DEAD ALIVE.

“It seems to be always desirable to obtain a contemporary record of all unusual phenomena. It is so more especially where they are of a somewhat indefinite character, and scarcely susceptible of exaggeration. We know of none which are more so than the cases of ‘trance.’MORE CAREFUL EXAMINATION REQUIRED. These examples are both sufficiently unusual to deserve a passing record, and sufficiently mysterious in their character to call for a more careful investigation than it has hitherto been possible to accord to them. We transcribe the facts of a recent instance, as they are circumstantially detailed, and, no doubt, some of the surgeons of Coventry will be able to afford their testimony as to the degree of correspondence of this narrative with their observations. “The girl, whose name is Amelia Hinks, is twelve or thirteen years of age, and resides with her parents in Bridge Street, Nuneaton. She had lately appeared to be sinking under the influence of some ill-explained disorder, and about three weeks since, as her friends imagined, she died. The body was removed to another room. It was rigid and icy cold. It was washed and laid out with all due funeral train. The limbs were decently placed, the eyelids closed and penny-pieces laid over them. The coffin was ordered. For more than forty-eight hours the supposed corpse lay beneath the winding-sheet, when it happened that her grandfather, coming from Leamington to assist in the last mournful ceremonies, went to see the corpse. The old man removed a penny-piece, and he thought that the corpse winked! There was a convulsive movement of the lid. This greatly disturbed his composure; for, though he had heard that she died with her eyes open, he was unprepared for this palpebral signal of her good understanding with death. A surgeon is said to have been summoned, who at first treated the matter as a delusion, but subsequently ascertained stethoscopically that there was still slight cardiac pulsation. The body was then removed to a warm room, and gradually the returning signs of animation became unequivocal. When speech was restored, the girl described many things which had taken place since her supposed death. She knew who had closed her eyes and placed the coppers thereon. She also heard the order given for her coffin, and could repeat the various remarks made over her as she lay in her death-clothes. She refused food, though in a state of extreme debility. She has since shown symptoms of mania, and is now said to have relapsed into a semi-cataleptic condition. The parents are ‘creditable people,’ and there is no apparent ruse in this unusually romantic history, which is causing considerable excitement in Nuneaton and its neighbourhood.”

From the Lancet, December 18, 1858, p. 642.

“‘THE DEAD ALIVE.’
“(To the Editor of the Lancet.)

“Sir,—An article, ‘The Dead Alive,’ in your impression of the 27th ultimo, demands of me a veritable statement of the case alluded to. The subject of the inquiry is still living, and for some time past has afforded me scope for observation.

THE DEAD ALIVE.

“I have only been waiting for a termination of the case, either in convalescence or death, to enable me to give to the profession, through your valuable columns, a full and truthful history of this rare and curious case, replete with interest. The exaggerated statement which has gone the round of the press has produced such great curiosity in this immediate neighbourhood that I have been applied to by many parties, professional and non-professional, to be permitted to see the case, the parents of the patient having refused admittance to all strangers.

“The case having extended over a long period, and fearing a detailed account might occupy too much of your valuable space, I have condensed the matter as much as possible; but should the profession consider the case worthy of a more enlarged history, I will gladly, at some future period, meet their wishes, as far as my rough notes, aided by my memory, will supply it.

“In August, 1858, I was requested to visit Miss Amelia Hincks, aged twelve years and nine months, daughter of a harness-maker, and residing with her parents in Bridge Street, Nuneaton. She was supposed to be suffering from pulmonary consumption.... On October 18, about half-past three a.m., she apparently died. She is said to have groaned heavily, waved her hands (which was a promised sign for her mother to know that the hour of her departure was come), turned her head a little to the light, dropped her jaw, and died. In about half an hour after her supposed departure she was washed, and attired in clean linen, the jaw was tied by a white handkerchief, penny-pieces laid over her eyes, her hands, semi-clenched, placed by her side, and her feet tied together by a piece of tape. She was then carried into another room, laid on a sofa, and covered over with a sheet. She appeared stiff and cold, two large books were placed on her feet, and I have no doubt she was considered to be a sweet corpse.

“About nine a.m., the grandfather of the supposed dead went into the death-chamber to give a last kiss to his grandchild, when he fancied he saw a convulsive movement of the eyelid, he having raised one of the coins. He communicated this fact to the parents and mourning friends, but they ridiculed the old man’s statement, and said the movement of the eyelids was owing to the nerves working after death. Their theory, however, did not satisfy the experienced man of eighty years, and he could not reconcile himself to her death. As soon as I reached home, after having been out in the country all night, I was requested to see the child, to satisfy the old man that she was really dead. About half-past ten a.m. I called; and immediately on my entrance into the chamber I perceived a tremulous condition of the eyelids, such as we frequently see in hysterical patients. The penny-pieces had been removed by the grandfather. I placed a stethoscope over the region of the heart, and found that organ performing its functions perfectly and with tolerable force. I then felt for a radial pulse, which was easily detected, beating feebly, about seventy-five per minute. The legs and arms were stiff and cold, and the capillary circulation was so congested as at first sight to resemble incipient decomposition. I carefully watched the chest, which heaved quietly but almost imperceptibly; and immediately unbandaged the maiden, and informed her mourning parents that she was not dead. Imagine their consternation! The passing-bell had rung, the shutters were closed, the undertaker was on his way to measure her for her coffin, and other necessary preparations were being made for her interment. [The writer then proceeds to give interesting details as to the treatment of the case, and the means taken to promote recovery.]

“Richard Bird Mason, M.R.C.S., L.S.A.

“Bridge Street, Nuneaton, December 14, 1858.”

From the Lancet, March 5, 1859, p. 254.

“TRANCE.

“Another case of trance is reported, in addition to those which we have lately recorded. A widow named Aufray, about sixty years of age, of St. Agnan de CenuiÈres (Eure), long seriously ill, became suddenly worse, grew cold and motionless, and, as it was thought, dead. She was laid out, the coffin ordered, and the church bell tolled. She recovered consciousness just before the funeral was to take place.”

THE QUESTION OF PREMATURE BURIAL BEFORE THE FRENCH SENATE.

FRENCH CASES.

The Medical Times, London, 1866, vol. i., p. 258, under the heading “Buried Alive” remarks as follows:—“The abundance of other topics hinders us at present from saying more than a few words on the conditions under which there may be real danger of burial before life is quite extinct. Now, we will only reproduce the cases reported by Cardinal Archbishop Donnet, in the French Senate, in a discussion on a petition that the time between death and burial should be lengthened. We will add one instance, which we have heard on the best authority:—About thirty years ago, a young woman of eighteen, daughter of Madame Laligand, living in the Rue des Tonnelliers, at Beaune, in Burgundy, was supposed to have died. The ordinary measures were taken for interment. The body was put in a coffin, and taken to the church; the funeral service was said, and the cortÉge set out for the cemetery; but on the road between the church and the cemetery the supposed dead recovered power of motion and speech, was removed from the coffin, put to bed, recovered, married, and lived eighteen years afterwards. She said she retained her consciousness during the whole of her supposed death, and had counted the nails that were driven into her coffin. Statements such as these, and such as those made by the Archbishop, will surely be subjected to the ordeal of a French scientific commission, and we may suspend our judgment for the present. To return to his Eminence. He said he had the very best reasons for believing that the victims of hasty interments were more numerous than people supposed. He considered the rules and regulations prescribed by the law very judicious; but, unfortunately, they were, particularly in the country, not always executed as they should be, nor was sufficient importance attached to them. In the village he was stationed in as an assistant-curate in the first period of his sacerdotal life, he saved two persons from being buried alive. The first an aged man, who lived twelve hours after the hour prescribed for his interment by the municipal officer; the second was a man who was quite restored to life. In both cases a trance more prolonged than usual was taken for actual death. The other instances, says the Times’ correspondent, I give in the words of the Archbishop:—

“‘The next case that occurred to me was at Bordeaux. A young lady, who bore one of the most distinguished names in the Department, had passed through what was supposed the last agony, and, as apparently all was over, the father and mother were torn away from the heartrending spectacle. As God willed it, I happened to pass the door of the house at the moment, when it occurred to me to call and inquire how the young lady was going on. When I entered the room, the nurse, finding the body breathless, was in the act of covering the face, and, indeed, there was every appearance that life had departed. Somehow or other, it did not seem to me so certain as to the bystanders. I lady not to give up all hope—that I was come to cure her, and that I was about to pray by her side. “You do not see me,” I said, “but you hear what I am saying.” My presentiments were not unfounded. The word of hope I uttered reached her ear and effected a marvellous change, or, rather, called back the life that was departing. The young girl survived; she is now a wife, and mother of children, and this day is the happiness of two most respectable families.’

“The Archbishop mentioned another instance of a similar revival in a town in Hungary during the cholera of 1831, which he heard that day from one of his colleagues of the Senate, as they were mounting the staircase. But the last related is so interesting, and made such a sensation, that it deserves to be repeated in his own words:—

CARDINAL DONNET’S EXPERIENCE.

“‘In the summer of 1826, on a close summer day, in a church which was exceedingly crowded, a young priest, who was in the act of preaching, was suddenly seized with giddiness in the pulpit. The words he was uttering became indistinct; he soon lost the power of speech, and sank down on the floor. He was taken out of the church and carried home. All was thought to be over. Some hours after, the funeral bell was tolled, and the usual preparations made for the interment. His eyesight was gone: but if he could see nothing, like the young lady I have alluded to he could hear, and I need not say that what reached his ears was not calculated to reassure him. The doctor came, examined him, and pronounced him dead; and after the usual inquiries as to his age and the place of his birth, etc., gave permission for his interment next morning. The venerable bishop, in whose cathedral the young priest was preaching when he was seized with the fit, came to his bedside to recite the “De Profundis.” The body was measured for the coffin. Night came on, and you will easily feel how inexpressible was the anguish of the living being in such a situation. At last, amid the voices murmuring around him, he distinguished that of one whom he had known from infancy. That voice produced a marvellous effect and superhuman effort. Of what followed I need say no more than that the seemingly dead man stood next day in the same pulpit. That young priest, gentlemen, is the same man who is now speaking before you, and who, more than forty years after that event, implores those in authority, not merely to watch vigilantly over the careful execution of the legal prescriptions with regard to interments, but to enact fresh ones in order to prevent the recurrence of irreparable misfortunes.’”

To this report of the Medical Times it may be added that the petition of M. de Carnot furnished statistics showing the frequency of these terrible disasters, and suggested various preventive measures, including the establishment of mortuaries, a longer interval between death and burial, and the application of scientific methods of restoration where decomposition is not manifest. The reality of the terrible dangers, as pointed out by Cardinal Donnet, was confirmed by Senators Tourangin and Viscount de Baral, in the recital of other cases of premature interment.

When the subject was revived in the Senate on January 29, 1869—on which occasion five petitions were presented, urging important reforms, and detailing other cases of premature interment,—Cardinal Donnet again took part in the debate, and urged that no burial should be permitted without the signature of a doctor or officer of health, as well as the written authorisation of the Mayor, so that the fact of death might always be verified. The Cardinal then furnished particulars of another recent case of premature interment in l’Est, and recalled the fact that one of their honourable colleagues of the Senate, M. le Comte de la Rue, had had a narrow escape from live sepulture.

The several petitions were forwarded to the Minister of the Interior, but nothing was done to remedy the evil.

From the Lancet, June 2, 1866, p. 611.

“ON SUSPENDED ANIMATION.

“In the course of the address delivered by Dr. Brewer to the Guardians of St. George’s at St. James’s Hall, he adverted to the ‘laying-out’ case at St. Pancras.... Dr. Brewer ... dwelt upon the question of suspended animation in a passage which really deserves to be quoted....

CASE REPORTED BY DR. BREWER.

“‘I have been more than once under a condition of apparently suspended respiration, and with circumstances less comfortable than those related of this babe; and yet, active as is my brain, and sensitive as is my body, I remember as well as though it were but yesterday that, on being restored to consciousness, no feeling of discomfort of any kind attended my experience on either occasion. It is under the truth to say I have known a score of cases of those who have been supposed dead being reanimated. It is not many months ago a friend of mine, a rector of a suburban parish, was pronounced by his medical attendant to be dead. His bed was arranged, and the room left in its silence. His daughter had re-entered and sat at the foot, and the solemn toll of his own church bell was vibrating through the chamber, when a hand drew aside the closed curtain, and a voice came from the occupant of the bed—“Elizabeth, my dear, what is that bell tolling for?” The daughter’s response was, perhaps, an unfortunate one: “For you, papa.” Schwartz, the first eminent Indian missionary, was roused from his supposed death by hearing his favourite hymn sung over him previous to the last rites being performed, and his resuscitation made known by his joining in the verse.’”

Dr. B. W. Richardson quotes a case in the Lancet, 1888, vol. ii., p. 1179, of a man who, in 1869, was rendered cataleptic by a lightning-stroke, and who narrowly escaped living burial.

Dr. Moore Russell Fletcher in his work on “Suspended Animation,” p. 26, says:—

“In June, 1869, a girl in Cleveland, Ohio, was taken ill, and after a short sickness died, and was laid out for burial; but as her mother insisted that she was not dead, efforts were made for some time to restore her to life, but in vain. Her mother, however, refused to let her be buried; and on the fifth day after that set for the funeral the slamming of a door aroused her, so that she recovered. She stated that, during most of the eight days which she lay there, she was conscious and heard what was said, although wholly unable to make the least motion.”

Dr. M. S. Tanner in a letter to the New York Times, January 18, 1880, mentions two cases where persons awakened from trance at the moment of sepulture described in turn what their feelings had been. Said one:—

“Have you ever felt the paralysing influence of a horrible nightmare? If you have had such experience, then you are prepared to conceive of the mental agonies I endured when I realised that my friends believed me dead, and were making preparations for my burial. The hours and days of mental struggle spent in the vain endeavour to break loose from the vice-like grasp of this worse than horrible nightmare was a hell of torment such as no tongue can describe or pen portray.”

The other instance mentioned by Dr. Tanner is that of Dr. Johnson of St. Charles, Illinois, who in the hearing of Dr. Tanner, and in the presence of a large audience in Harrison’s Hall, Minneapolis, stated that when a young man he was prostrated with a fever. He swooned away, apparently dead. His attending physician said he was dead. His father was faithless and unbelieving, and refused to bury him. He lay in this condition, apparently dead, fourteen days.VERDICT OF FOURTEEN PHYSICIANS. The attending physician brought other physicians to examine the apparently lifeless form, and all stated unqualifiedly, “He is dead.” Some fourteen physicians, among them many eminent professors, examined the body, and there was no ambiguity in the expression of their conclusion that the boy was dead. But the father still turned a deaf ear to all entreaties to prepare the body for the grave. Public feeling was at last aroused. The health officer and other city officers, acting in their official capacity, and by the advice of physicians, peremptorily demanded that the body be interred without delay. On the fourteenth day the father yielded under protest; preparations were made for the funeral, when the emotions of the still living subject, who was conscious of all transpiring around him, were so intense as to be the means of his deliverance. He awoke from his trance.

From the Lancet, June 7, 1884, p. 1058.

“IMPORTANT SUGGESTION FROM AN M.D.
“(To the Editor of the Lancet.)

“Sir,—Without venturing to express an opinion on the case mentioned by the Rev. D. Williams[5] in the Lancet of the 24th inst., I would beg to say that I have no doubt in my own mind but that people are sometimes ‘buried alive.’ An instance has come to my knowledge where this catastrophe was only avoided by a mere accident. A lady, about forty-five years of age, the wife of a clergyman in a northern county, was taken ill, and after some time, as was supposed, died. The funeral was delayed, and so was the closing of the coffin, in consequence of the absence of a son of the lady from home. When the boy arrived, the kissing, wailing, and commotion roused the supposed dead woman, and brought her to consciousness in her coffin. This lady would most probably have been buried alive were it not that the obsequies were delayed on account of the circumstance mentioned.

“Now, may not cases more or less similar to this sometimes occur, with the catastrophe of ‘buried alive’ added to them? But no such case could happen if it were made compulsory that the interment of a body should not be allowed to take place until after decomposition had set in, as attested by a medical man.

“I am, Sir, yours truly,

“Wm. O’Neill, M.D.

“Lincoln, May 26, 1884.”

It is not always safe to conclude that persons enfeebled by age, or exhausted by long and severe illness, and pronounced dead by the attendant doctor, are really so. The Undertakers’ Journal, August 23, 1886, has the following:—

“It appears that George O. Daniels, of Clinton, Kentucky, had been ill for several months, and at length, to all appearance, died. The body was put in a coffin, where it remained for twenty hours, awaiting the arrival of relatives to attend the funeral. At midnight the watchers who surrounded the coffin were startled by a deep groan emanating from it, and all but one, a German of the name of Wabbeking, rushed from the room. Wabbeking remained, and as the groans continued he raised the coffin-lid and saw that Daniels was alive. Seizing the body he placed it upright. A few spasmodic gasps, a shudder, and the corpse spoke. The relatives returned to find the man sitting in a chair, and conversing with reasonable strength. Mr. Daniels claims to have been perfectly conscious of everything which passed around him, but says he was unable to move a muscle. He heard the sobs of his relatives when he was pronounced dead by the doctors, and noticed the preparations for the funeral. He is about eighty years of age.”

The same journal for July 23, 1888, reports the following under the head of

“RETURNED TO LIFE TWICE.

“The following details are given by the Cincinnati correspondent of the New York Herald from Memphis, Tennessee:—Mrs. Dicie Webb keeps a grocery store on Beale Street, and is well known to hundreds. Two years ago John Webb, a son of Mrs. Webb, married Sarah Kelly, a pretty girl, to whom the mother-in-law became greatly attached. Before one year of their married life had passed, Mrs. Webb, jun.,RETURNED TO LIFE TWICE. was stricken with consumption, and on several occasions came near dying. About a month ago the young woman became very anxious to visit her parents in Henderson County, and she was taken there. At first she appeared much improved, and hopes were felt that her life might be preserved through the summer, but two weeks ago last Tuesday a telegram announced her death, and the husband hurried to her parents’ home. Three days later he returned with the corpse. The mother-in-law pleaded so hard for a sight of the dead woman, that finally, despite the belief that the body was badly decomposed, it was decided to open the coffin. While looking at the placid face Mrs. Webb was terrified at beholding the eyelids of the dead woman slowly opening. The eyes did not have the stony stare of death, nor the intelligent gleam of life. Mrs. Webb was unable to utter a sound. She could not move, but stood gazing at the gruesome sight. Her horror was increased when the supposed corpse slowly sat upright and, in an almost inaudible voice, said, ‘Oh, where am I?’ At this the weeping woman screamed. Friends who rushed into the room were almost paralysed at the sight, and fled shrieking. But one bolder than the others returned and spoke to the woman, who asked to be laid on the bed. Hastily she was taken from the coffin and cared for. In the course of the day the resurrected woman fully regained her mental powers. The day following she related a wonderful story. She said she was cognisant of all that occurred, and did not lose consciousness until she was put aboard the train for Memphis. Soon after being placed in her mother-in-law’s house she came to her senses and knew all that was passing. While her mother-in-law was looking at her she made a supreme effort to speak. Mrs. Webb lived a number of days, when she again apparently died. The doctors pronounced her dead, and she was once more placed in the coffin. While the mother-in-law was taking her final farewell she heard a voice whisper, ‘Mother, don’t cry.’ Looking into the girl’s face, she saw the same look that she had noticed before. She called for help, and several women responded. Some one cried, ‘Shake her; she’s not dead.’ In the excitement of the moment, the women, it is thought, shook the life out of the poor consumptive, and last Saturday she was buried. The family and friends have endeavoured to keep the matter quiet.”

The Daily Telegraph, January 26, 1889, reports:—

“A NARROW ESCAPE.

“A Rochester correspondent telegraphs that a woman named Girvin, living at Burham, near Rochester, has just had a narrow escape of being buried alive. She fell into a kind of trance, which was mistaken for death. The coffin was ordered, and the usual preparations made for a funeral. But while a number of the relatives were gathered at the bedside bewailing their bereavement, the supposed corpse startled them by suddenly rising up in bed and asking what was the matter. The woman is making good progress towards convalescence.”

And on July 6, 1889, the same journal says:—

A CASE AT ST. LEONARDS.

“Our St. Leonards correspondent telegraphs:—About a week ago the wife of a well-known tradesman in St. Leonards fell ill, and on Monday night last the doctor gave his opinion that she could not live through the next day. On Tuesday morning at ten o’clock the doctor pronounced his patient dead, the nurse who was in attendance confirming the opinion. The intimation of death naturally created great distress among the friends of the woman, who was laid out in grave-clothes, washed, and prepared for burial, and, being a Roman Catholic, a crucifix was placed in her hand as she lay on her bier. When it was announced that the woman was dying, a priest was sent for; but he could not attend, as he was out of the town at the time.

“About a quarter to ten on Tuesday night the nurse entered the room without a light for the purpose of getting something which she knew where to find. Whilst in the darkened chamber she was startled to hear a slight cry proceeding from the bed where the body lay, and she rushed from the room in a terrible fright. The widower, hearing the scream of fright, rushed into the chamber with a light, and was astounded to find that his wife had raised herself up in the bed on her elbow. She faintly uttered the words, ‘Where am I?’ and again relapsed into a heavy sleep. The opportunity was seized of changing the shroud for proper habiliments, and in about an hour and a half she woke again perfectly conscious. Next morning she was told of what had occurred, but was quite ignorant of everything that had passed, thinking she had only had a long sleep. She is now doing well, and it is hoped she will soon be restored to health and strength. The doctor describes the case as the most remarkable he has ever met with in his experience.”

Dr. Frederick A. Floyer, of Mortimer, Berks, published the following-case in the Tocsin, November 1, 1889, vol. i., p. 84, under the head of “Premature Burial”:—

“A narrow escape of this was recently communicated direct to the writer, and as it has some extremely important bearings on the value of what are usually considered to be evidences of death, we give it as told by the survivor, who is still alive in the form of a cheery and intelligent old lady in the fullest possession of her faculties and memory.

“Herself the wife of a medical officer attached to the—th Regiment, she was stationed at—— Island, where at the age of twenty-eight she was safely confined. Shortly after this she was walking out with an attendant when she was taken suddenly ill with a painful spasm of the heart—what appears to have been an attack of angina pectoris—and was conveyed in-doors and propped up with pillows, suffering great pain, and although medical attendance was summoned, nothing was of avail, and she died—at least in the opinion of those around her, who paid the proper attention to what they regarded as a corpse. It was the custom there to bury at sundown any one who died during the day. We understand that in warm countries it is difficult to close the eyelids properly, and so this lady, lying motionless and rigid, contemplated with perfectly clear perception, but with an utter indifference, the bringing in of the coffin and the necessary preparations for her interment; she remembers her children coming to take a last look at her, and then being taken down stairs.

“She would never have lived to tell the story but for an accident, which happened in this way. Her nurse, who was much attached to her, was stroking her face and the muscles of her jaw, and presently declared she heard a sound of breathing. Medical assistance was summoned, and the mirror test applied, but the surface was undimmed. Then, to make sure, they opened a vein in each arm, but no blood flowed. No limb responded to stimulus, and they declared that the nurse was mistaken, and that the body was dead beyond doubt.

“But the nurse persisted in her belief and in her attentions, and did succeed in establishing a sign of life. Then mustard applications to her feet and to the back of her neck, and burnt feathers applied to her nostrils, which she remembered burning her nose, completed her return to consciousness.”

From the Pall Mall Gazette, May 11, 1891.

“NARROW ESCAPE FROM BEING BURIED ALIVE.

“A Penn Station telegram to Dalziel says:—A singular case of simulation of death from fright occurred here on Saturday. Mrs. Sarseville, the wife of a farmer in this county, was in the cow-house attending to the dairy work when she saw a nest of squirming snakes through a hole in the plank floor. She fell to the ground apparently lifeless with fright. Help was summoned, and she was carried into the house. Before the physician arrived Mrs. Sarseville had begun to turn black, and he pronounced her dead, giving a certificate,CERTIFICATE OF APOPLEXY. in which he assigned apoplexy as the cause. During the night Mrs. Sarseville’s daughter sat beside the coffin of her mother, lamenting her death. Just before daybreak she was startled to see the body move. She was more shocked when her mother opened her eyes and sat bolt upright in her coffin. The supposed corpse was no less startled than the girl to find herself dressed in grave-clothes and lying in a coffin. Help was summoned, and the lady helped out of her narrow bed and into her ordinary clothes. She took breakfast with the family yesterday morning, and seemed none the worse for her ghastly experience.”

From the British Medical Journal, March 12, 1892, p. 577.

“A NARROW ESCAPE FROM PREMATURE BURIAL.

“The Temps publishes a case of premature burial prevented by the daughter of the supposed dead man, who, on kissing her father, perceived that his body was not cold. The funeral cortÉge was on the point of starting. Suitable measures restored the man to consciousness, and he opened his eyes and uttered one or two words. His condition is serious, but he is alive. This incident occurred at Vagueray, near Lyons.”

From the Echo, London, May 13, 1893.

“ALMOST BURIED WHILE ALIVE.

“Limoges, May 13.

“A woman has just had a narrow escape of being buried alive here. She was subject to epileptic fits, and during one of these a few days ago was pronounced to be dead. The arrangements for interment were made in due course, and as the coffin was being borne into the church some of the mourners said they heard a knocking inside. The party listened, and distinct taps were heard. No time was lost in wrenching off the lid of the coffin. It was then found that the woman was alive and conscious, although terribly frightened at the awful ordeal through which she had passed. A doctor was quickly in attendance, and under his direction the supposed corpse was removed from the coffin and placed on a litter for conveyance home again.”

The Undertakers’ Journal, July 22, 1893, says:—

“Charles Walker was supposed to have died suddenly at St. Louis a few days ago, and a burial certificate was obtained in due course from the coroner’s office. The body was lying in the coffin, and the relatives took a farewell look at the features, and withdrew as the undertaker’s assistants advanced to screw down the lid. One of the undertaker’s men noticed, however, that the position of the body in the coffin seemed to have undergone some slight change, and called attention to the fact. Suddenly, without any warning, the ‘corpse’ sat up in the coffin and gazed round the room. A physician was summoned, restoratives were applied, and in half an hour the supposed corpse was in a warm bed, sipping weak brandy and water, taking a lively interest in the surroundings. Heart-failure had produced a species of syncope resembling death that deceived even experts.”

From the Undertakers’ Journal, August 22, 1893.

“SNATCHED FROM DEATH AT THE GRAVESIDE.

“A marvellous case of suspended animation is described from the British colony of Lagos, where an old woman named Oseni came to life when she was at the cemetery about to be buried. The mourners had assembled at the cemetery, and, in accordance with the Mahomedan rule, the body was lifted from the coffin to be buried, when several distinct coughs were given by the supposed corpse. She was at once released from the clothes which bound her, and the old woman, to the surprise and amazement of those present, sat upright and opened her eyes. Some gruel was then procured, of which she partook with evident relish.”

From the Daily Telegraph, London, December 12, 1893.

“A LADY NEARLY BURIED ALIVE.

“Berlin, December 11.

“From Militsch, in Silesia, an extraordinary case of trance is reported. It seems that, owing to the grave not being in readiness, some delay occurred in the burial of a lady, the wife of a major in the army, who to all appearance had died.FOUR DAYS’ APPARENT DEATH. On the fourth day after the lady’s supposed death the maid was placing fresh flowers round the coffin, when she was much startled at seeing the body move, and finally assume an erect position. The lady had evidently been in a state of coma during the past four days, and narrowly escaped being buried alive.”

The Banner of Light, Boston, July 28, 1894, quotes the following case of apparent sudden death from the Boston Post:—

“COFFINED ALIVE!

“Sprakers, a village not far from Rondout, N.Y., was treated to a sensation Tuesday, July 10, by the supposed resurrection from the dead of Miss Eleanor Markham, a young woman of respectability, who to all appearance had died on Sunday, July 8.

“Miss Markham about a fortnight ago complained of heart trouble, and was treated by Dr. Howard. She grew weaker gradually, and on Sunday morning apparently breathed her last, to the great grief of her relatives, by whom she was much beloved. The doctor pronounced her dead, and furnished the usual burial certificate.

“Undertaker Jones took charge of the funeral arrangements. On account of the warm weather it was decided that the interment should take place Tuesday, and in the morning Miss Markham was put in the coffin.

“After her relatives had taken the last look on what they supposed was their beloved dead, the lid of the coffin was fastened on, and the undertaker and his assistant took it to the hearse waiting outside. As they approached the hearse a noise was heard, and the coffin was put down and opened in short order. Behold! there was poor Eleanor Markham lying on her back, her face white and contorted, and her eyes distended.

“‘My God!’ she cried, in broken accents. ‘Where am I? You are burying me alive.’ ‘Hush! child,’ said Dr. Howard, who happened to be present. ‘You are all right. It is a mistake easily rectified.’

“The girl was then taken into the house and placed on the bed, when she fainted. While the doctor was administering stimulating restoratives the trappings of woe were removed, and the hearse drove away with more cheerful rapidity than a hearse was ever driven before.

•

“‘I was conscious all the time you were making preparations to bury me,’ she said, ‘and the horror of my situation is altogether beyond description. I could hear everything that was going on, even a whisper outside the door, and although I exerted all my will-power, and made a supreme physical effort to cry out, I was powerless.... At first I fancied the bearers would not hear me, but when I felt one end of the coffin falling suddenly, I knew that I had been heard.’

“Miss Markham is on a fair way to recovery, and what is strange is that the flutterings of the heart that brought on her illness are gone.”

From the Echo, January 18, 1895.

“MISTAKEN FOR DEAD—A WOMAN’S AWFUL EXPERIENCE.

“An extraordinary affair is reported from Heap Bridge, Heywood. Yesterday a woman was supposed to have died, and she was washed, laid out, and measured for her coffin, a piece of linen being placed over her mouth. Eight hours later, however, as two women were engaged in the room, the supposed corpse blew the linen away, and raised herself up in bed. The two women were terribly frightened, and in their hasty retreat both tumbled downstairs, and are now suffering from slight injuries, as well as shock. Some time elapsed before any one else could be induced to enter the house, but eventually several persons went in together, and found the woman still sitting up in bed. She was exceedingly weak. Later, however, she succumbed, and the doctor expressed the opinion that her death was accelerated by shock. During the night the woman conversed with her son, who had carried her upstairs for dead, and told him of the awful sensation she felt whilst unable to speak during the washing and laying out of her body.”

The following letter appeared in the London Daily Chronicle of September 24, 1895:—

“BURIED ALIVE.

“Sir,—To your interesting correspondence on ‘Buried Alive,’ I would add the following, which I had directly from the mouth of one who but for the faithfulness of her husband would probably have been added to the number. I knew her quite well. She was the daughter of a physician in my native town, and her husband was a professor of music, and I will tell the incident as nearly as I can remember in her own words.A HUSBAND’S PROMISE. She said:—‘I had in my early married life a dread of there being any mistake made about my death, and begged my husband that, should he survive me, he would watch my body himself, which he promised he would do. Some time after this, I was overtaken by a most terrible attack of fever, succeeded by entire exhaustion, and I, as my attendants believed, died, and was accordingly laid out for burial. My good husband was true to his promise, and he, with my sister, watched the corpse, and in the night they perceived some indication of returning life, and of course means were used for restoration.’

“I cannot be quite sure how many years she lived after, but she had brought up at the time I speak of a family of four sons and one daughter, and she lived to a good old age.—Yours truly,

“Cassandra M——.

“September 18.”

Speaking on the subject of premature burial the other day, a well-known London publisher told the author that he personally knew a lady, the daughter of a British Consul, who had been taken for dead on two separate occasions. On the first occasion the lady had been placed in her coffin, and the lid screwed down ready for interment. A friend who had known the supposed deceased called to condole with the family, and said:—“I should like to have a last look at dear L—— if you will only permit me.” The lid was accordingly removed, and the visitor detected, as it seemed to her, signs of life in her friend; she was taken out of her coffin, put in a warm bath, and recovered. Some years later the same lady fell into a cataleptic state after a fever, and was taken for dead. Preparations had been made for the funeral in both instances, but delayed beyond the usual time for interment. She returned to consciousness, and is now living.

Dr. Moore Russell Fletcher in “Suspended Animation and the Danger of Burying Alive,” p. 62, writes:—

“‘Seven hours in a coffin added ten years to my life,’ was the remark of Martin Strong, of Twelfth Street, Philadelphia, some time after quitting the coffin in which his family had placed him for burial, after Dr. Cummings had given a certificate of his death. Frank Stoop, of Clarinda, Iowa, was laid out for burial not long since, a physician having certified to his death; but fortunately he awoke from his state of coma in time to save his life.”

AN ARMY SURGEON’S PERSONAL EXPERIENCE.

DR. CHEW’S EXPERIENCES.

Dr. R. G. S. Chew, of Calcutta, writing to the author, says:—“In 1873 I was a student in the Bishop’s High School, Poonah (Bombay Presidency), where I used to be generally at the head of my class, and when competing for the Science Prizes I was fully determined to take the first prize or none. The Reverend—— Watson, Rector of St. Mary’s Church and Chaplain to our school, knew my disposition, and cautioned me against being too sanguine, lest disappointment might tell very keenly. The disappointment came, and with it much nervous excitability. Shortly after this (Christmas, 1873) my favourite sister was seized with convulsions that carried her off. From the moment of her decease to nearly a month after her interment I entirely lost the power of speech. On the day of the funeral I was parched with thirst, but could not drink, as the water seemed to choke me. My eyes were burning and my head felt like bursting, but I could neither sob nor cry. I felt quite dazed, and followed the procession to the cemetery, where I stood motionless by the open grave; but as soon as they lowered the little coffin into its resting-place I threw myself headlong into the grave and fainted away. Some one pulled me out and carried me home, where I lay in a sort of stupor for nine days, during which Dr. Donaldson attended me most patiently, and I regained consciousness, but was too weak to even sit up in bed. On the 16th January, 1874, I felt a peculiar sensation as of something filling up my throat—no swelling, no pain nor anything that pointed to throat affection—and this getting worse and worse, in spite of everything, I died, as was supposed, on the 18th of January, 1874, and was laid out for burial, as the most careful examination failed to show the slightest traces of life. I had been in this state for twenty hours, and in another three hours would have been closed up for ever, when my eldest sister, who was leaning over the head of my coffin crying over me, declared she saw my lips move. The friends who had come to take their last look at me tried to persuade her it was only fancy, but, as she persisted, Dr. Donaldson was sent for to convince her that I was really dead. For some unexplained reason he had me taken out of the coffin and examined very carefully from head to foot. Noticing a peculiar, soft fluctuating swelling at the base of my neck, just where the clavicles meet the sternum, he went to his brougham, came back with his case of instruments, and, before any one could stop him or ask what he was going to do, laid open the tumour and plunged in a tracheotomy tube, when a quantity of pus escaped, and, releasing the pressure on the carotids and thyroid, was followed by a rush of blood and some movement on my part that startled the doctor. Restoratives were used, and I was slowly nursed back to life; but the tracheotomy tube (I still carry the scar) was not finally removed till September, 1875.”

“APPARENT DEATH FROM A FALL.
(Communicated to the author by Dr. Chew.)

“A sowar—i.e., native trooper—of the 7th regiment of cavalry, in 1878, carrying despatches at Nowshera, was thrown from his horse, and, falling with his head against a sharp stone in the road, rolled on to his back, in which position he was found some six or seven hours after, and conveyed to the morgue of the European DepÔt Hospital pending removal to the ‘lines’ of his own corps.APPARENT DEATH FROM A FALL. There was very little hÆmorrhage, and the stone was still wedged in between the temporo-parietal suture. Cardiac sounds and respiratory murmurs could not be detected. The limbs were perfectly rigid, and there was a good deal of cadaveric ecchymosis to be distinctly seen. Nothing would have convinced any one that the sowar was still alive, and Surgeons-Major Hunter, Gibson, and Briggs, Apothecary S. Pollock, Assistant-Surgeon J. Lewis and myself verily believed he was stone-dead. As ‘cause of death’ is what the army is exceedingly particular about, Surgeon-Major Hunter removed the impacted stone and lifted out portions of the fractured bone (prior to holding a proper post-mortem), when to the surprise of all of us ‘the corpse’ deliberately closed its eyes (which were staring open when the body was first brought in), and there was a slight serous hÆmorrhage. On noticing this, the sowar’s head was trephined—no chloroform or other anÆsthetic being used—some more fragments of bone and a large blood-clot that pressed on the brain were removed, and as the sowar repeatedly flinched under this operation, a stimulant was poured down his throat, and he was removed to his regimental hospital, from which he was discharged ‘well’ some six months and a half later. After this he did good service in the Afghan and Egyptian campaigns.”

“APPARENT DEATH FROM CHOLERA.

“The cases of collapse and apparent death during epidemics of cholera are very numerous, as will be seen by reference to medical literature. We have now before us particulars of cases from the Calcutta Journal of Medicine for 1869, vol. ii., p. 383, where Dr. Charles Londe, of Paris, observes that patients pronounced dead of cholera have been repeatedly seen to move. See also, for Italy, Lancet, 1884, vol. ii., p. 655.

“A correspondent, signing himself T.E.N., in To-Day, October 12, 1895, says:—‘When acting as special correspondent to the Evening Herald in Hamburg during the cholera plague, I met a gentleman who had been passed for dead and placed in the mortuary to await burial. When the porters entered some hours later to remove the hundred or so bodies, they found this gentleman sitting up in great pain, and very much frightened. He was placed in a ward and recovered. About the same time a little girl came to life actually at the graveside. She had been brought in one of several four-horse vans that conveyed bodies for interment in the Ohlsdorff grave-yard. Fortunately for her, she had not been placed in a coffin, the exigencies of the time rendering it impossible to provide caskets for the dead. When the disease began to die out, the people found time to ask—“Can it be possible that life remains in any of the bodies buried?” That the doctors in the latter days cut the ulnar arteries of all subjects before passing them for dead is full of significance.’”

The three following cases were communicated to the author, during his sojourn in Calcutta, by Dr. Chew, in the early part of this year (1896):—

CASES COMMUNICATED BY DR. CHEW.

“In March, 1877, Assistant-Surgeons H. A. Borthwick, S. Blake, H. B. Rogers, and myself received orders to proceed from Rawal Pindi by bullock-train to Peshawur to join the various regiments we were to be posted to for duty. We had just passed a place called Rati when Borthwick showed strong symptoms of cholera, from which he suffered all that night. The nearest hospital was twenty-five miles behind us, and though we had neither medicines nor sick-room comforts with us, we had no alternative but to journey onwards, because the train-drivers (Indians) refused to turn back, and if we did return to Rawal Pindi we would have been court-martialled for disobeying lawful commands and coming back without orders to do so. Travelling by bullock-train is very slow work, and far from a comfortable mode of transit; however, we were obliged to make the best of it, and early next morning Borthwick was cold, stiff, and seemingly dead. Here was a fine state of affairs—the nearest cantonment, which we had no expectation of reaching (i.e., Nowshera) before nine p.m., was thirty-six miles off, and by the time we arrived at it, it would have been too late to approach the authorities, while Peshawur, our destination, was another twenty-nine miles further off. Dispose of the body we dared not, and we had no choice but to continue our route. All that day there was not a movement or other sign to show that life was not extinct, and affairs seemed no better by five p.m. next day, when we reached Peshawur. The apparent corpse was lifted out of the bullock-train and carried into the hospital dispensary (where a strong fire was blazing) preparatory to papers being signed and arrangements made for its final disposal. Whether it was the heat of the fire before which he was placed, or whether the vibriones had produced an antitoxin, I am not prepared to argue; but we do know that Borthwick recovered consciousness while lying on the bed in that dispensary, and that he whom we mourned as dead returned to life. He served in the same military stations with me in the North-West Frontier till 1880, when he accompanied me to the Calcutta Medical College, where we parted company in February, 1882, I bound for Egypt and he for frontier duty. At first we corresponded regularly, but since 1885 we lost touch of each other.”

“REVIVAL IN A MORTUARY IN INDIA.

“Sergeant J. Clements Twining, of H.M.’s 109th regiment of British infantry, located at Dinapoor in 1876, was brought in an unconscious state to the hospital, supposed to be suffering from coup de soleil. Everything that could be done was ineffectually tried to rouse him from coma, and he was removed to the dead-house to wait post-mortem next morning. At two a.m. the sentry on the dead-house came rushing down to the dispensary (about four hundred and fifty yards off) declaring that he had seen and heard a ghost in the dead-house, to which myself and the compounder and dresser on duty at once proceeded, to find that Clements Twining, who was now partially conscious, was lying on the dead-house flags groaning most piteously—he had rolled off the table on to the floor. He returned to health, and in 1877 accompanied his regiment to England, where I met him at Woolwich in 1883, and he asked me to corroborate his story of ‘returning to life’ to certain of his acquaintances who had refused to believe him.”

“CHOLERA CORPSES REVIVED IN A MORTUARY.

“When the East Norfolk regiment was out cholera-dodging in 1878, Colour-Sergeant T. Hall and Corporal W. Bellomy were sent into cantonments for burial as cholera corpses in the Nowshera Cemetery.THE USE OF MORTUARIES. There was some delay in the interment owing to a difficulty in obtaining the wood necessary for their coffins, so both bodies were placed in the dead-house, which was generously sprinkled with disinfectants to ward off the risk of contagion. First Hall and then Bellomy regained consciousness, and were duly returned to duty. The following year Bellomy was ‘invalided’ to England, where I understand he now enjoys the best of health.”

“Shortly after the Afghan war of 1878, Surgeon-Major T. Barnwell and I were told off to take a large number of time-expired men, invalids, and wounded, to Deolali on their way to England. Some of the wounded were in a very critical state, necessitating great care; one man in particular, Trooper Holmes of the 10th Hussars, who had an ugly bullet-wound running along his left thigh and under the groin. Our only means of transport for these poor fellows was the ‘palki’ or doolie carried by four bearers at a curious swinging pace. When we got to Nowshera, Holmes seemed on a fair way to recovery, but the swinging of the doolie seemed too much for him, and he grew weaker day by day till we got to Hassan Abdool, when we could not rouse him to take some nourishment before starting on the march, and to all appearance he seemed perfectly dead; but, as there was neither the time nor convenience to hold a post-mortem, we carried the body on to ‘John Nicholson,’ where, the same difficulties being in the way, and no facilities for burial, we were obliged to put the post-mortem off for another day, and convey the corpse to Rawal Pindi rest camp, where we laid him on the floor of the mortuary tent and covered him over with a tarpaulin. This was his salvation, as next morning (i.e., the third day succeeding his ‘death’), when we raised the tarpaulin to hold the post-mortem, some hundreds of field mice (these tracts are noted for them) rushed out, and we noticed that Holmes was breathing, though very slowly—five or six respirations to the minute—and there were a few teeth marks where the mice had attacked his calves. To prevent a relapse by the jolting on further marches, we handed him over to the station hospital staff, who pulled him round, and then forwarded him to the headquarters of his regiment at Meerut.”

A lady, distinguished alike for her literary gifts as well as for her philanthropy, sends me the following:—

“I am much obliged to you for sending me ‘Perils.’ It is a terrible subject, and one that has haunted me all my life, insomuch that I have never made a will without inserting a clause requiring my throat to be cut before I am put underground. Of course one can have no reliance on doctors whatever, and I have myself known a case in which a very eminent one insisted on a coffin being screwed down because the corpse looked so life-like and full of colour that the friends could not help indulging in hopes.

CASES IN IRELAND.

“My great grandmother, after whom I am called, a famous heiress, was a notable case of narrow escape. As a girl she passed into a state of apparent death, and a great funeral was ordered for her. Among the guests came a young girl friend, who insisted that she was not dead, and raised such a stir that the funeral was postponed, and time was allowed to pass till the marvel became that there were no signs of change. I could never ascertain how long this comatose state lasted before she recovered; but she did recover, so thoroughly that after her marriage with Richard Trench, of Garbuly, she became the mother of twenty-two children. Obviously this was no case of a feeble, hysterical, cataleptic subject. I will enclose photograph taken from a miniature of her in a ring in my possession.

“There was another case, well known in Ireland in my youth, of a Colonel Howard, who had a fine place (I think it was called Castle Howard) in Wicklow. He was supposed to be dead, and a lead coffin was actually made with his name and date of death on it; after which Colonel Howard came to life, and had the plate of the coffin fixed over his kitchen chimney as a warning to his servants not to bury people in a hurry.”

Dr. Colin S. Valentine, LL.D., Principal of the Medical Missionary Training College, Agra, N.W.P., told the author during his visit to Agra, February, 1896, that Captain Young, an officer in the regiment of which he (Dr. Valentine) was at that time army surgeon, who had been dreadfully mauled while tiger-hunting in Madras, was laid out for dead, and all the arrangements were made for his funeral at six o’clock that evening, when consciousness returned, and he lived for twenty years after.

In a lecture on “Signs of Death and Disposal of the Dead,” delivered by Dr. A. Stephenson at Nottingham, January 9, 1896, the lecturer said “he once attended a girl living in that locality who was in a trance. All the preparations were made for her funeral, and the grave ordered. She remained in a trance three days, and her mother was annoyed because he would not sign her death-certificate. On the third day she slowly rose and recovered. The girl would have been buried unless he had had a very great fear of her being buried alive.”[6]

From the London Echo, March 3, 1896.

“NARROW ESCAPE OF A GREEK-ORTHODOX METROPOLITAN.

“A letter from Constantinople, in the Politische Korrespondenz, gives a remarkable case of an apparent death which would have ended in a premature burial but for the high ecclesiastical position of the person concerned. On the 3rd of this month, Nicephorus Glycas, the Greek-Orthodox Metropolitan of Lesbos, an old man in his eightieth year, after several days of confinement to his bed, was reported by the physician to be dead. The supposed dead bishop, in accordance with the rules of the Orthodox Church, was immediately clothed in his episcopal vestments, and placed upon the Metropolitan’s throne in the great church of Methymni, where the body was exposed to the devout faithful during the day, and watched by relays of priests day and night. Crowds streamed into the church to take a last look at their venerable chief pastor. On the second night of “the exposition of the corpse,” the Metropolitan suddenly started up from his seat and stared round him with amazement and horror at all the panoply of death amidst which he had been seated. The priests were not less horrified when the ‘dead’ bishop demanded what they were doing with him? The old man had simply fallen into a death-like lethargy, which the incompetent doctors had hastily concluded to be death. He is now as hale and hearty as can well be expected from an octogenarian. But here it is that the moral comes in. If Nicephorus Glycas had been a layman he would most certainly have been buried alive. Fortunately for him the Canon Law of the Orthodox Church does not allow a bishop to be buried earlier than the third day after his death; whereas a layman, according to the ancient Eastern custom, is generally buried about twelve hours after death has been certified. The excitement which has been aroused by the prelate’s startling resurrection may tend to set men thinking more seriously about the frequent probability of the cruel horror of the interment of living persons.”

The above-mentioned facts have been authenticated for the author by Dr. Franz Hartmann, of Hallein, Austria.

NARROW ESCAPES OF SMALL-POX PATIENTS.

Many physicians who dispute the frequency of premature burials admit that the liability to such catastrophes is considerable during epidemics of small-pox, where extreme exhaustion, amounting to a suspension of life, is distinguishable from actual death only by patient and prolonged observation.

From the Lancet, June 21, 1884, p. 1150:—

“SUSPENDED ANIMATION AFTER SMALL-POX.

“Sir,—I send you privately names and addresses by means of which you can test, if you please, the accuracy of the following statements, which I forward for insertion in your journal:—

APPARENT DEATHS AFTER SMALL-POX.

“Some years since, a young man who had been attacked by small-pox was declared by the medical man to be dead, and was laid out for burial. The nurse, however, on paying a visit to the supposed corpse, thinking there was something uncorpse-like about its appearance, put a wine-glass over the mouth, and returning in a quarter of an hour, found it dimmed with breath. He was resuscitated, and, so far as I am aware, is still living. He would now be about forty-five. He is a farmer.

“A mother and her baby were ill of small-pox, and seemed likely to die. The grandmother, however, made the nurse promise that if death appeared to ensue, and even if the medical man pronounced either or both to be dead, she would put additional blankets on the one or both, and leave them so till her (the grandmother’s) return, which would not be till the next day. They both appeared to die, and were declared dead by the doctor; but the nurse did as she had promised, and the next day when the grandmother returned, they were both alive, and were both living not very long since.

“Some twenty years ago, I was told that about forty years previously a young man, in a parish where I was acquainted, was put in a coffin as a person dead of small-pox; but when the bell was tolling for his funeral, and he was about to be ‘screwed down,’ he got up and vacated the coffin, and lived several years afterwards.

“In a town where I was brought up, a woman was nearly buried alive through having gone into a trance on being frightened by a young lady who had put on a white sheet and pretended to be a ‘ghost.’ For years she was liable to long spells of insensibility, from which nothing could rouse her.

“The haste with which small-pox corpses are disposed of nowadays is to be deprecated. They are usually buried within twelve hours of their supposed death, and the cases I first mentioned show with what very probable results. The only sure proof of death is decomposition, and a law ought to be passed forbidding burial until signs of it have appeared. Not very long since I was in a church-yard where a drain was being made round the church, and was not a little struck by the horrified look of a labourer who came to the vicar and stated that they had come on a skull face downward, which, he said, put it beyond doubt that the person it had belonged to had turned in his coffin after burial.—I am, Sir, yours faithfully,

“B. A.

“June 18, 1884.”

The Undertakers’ Journal, May 22, 1895, has the following:—

REV. HARRY JONES’ CASES.

“The Reverend Harry Jones, in his reminiscences, and as a London clergyman, declares his conviction that in times of panic from fatal epidemics it is not unlikely that some people are buried alive. Mr. Jones recalls a case within his knowledge of a young woman pronounced to be dead from cholera, and actually laid out for the usual collecting cart to call from the undertakers, when a neighbour happened to come in and lament over her. The story continues thus: ‘And is poor Sarah really dead?’ she cried. ‘Well,’ said her mother, ‘she is, and she will soon be fetched away; but if you can do anything you may do it.’ Acting on this permission the practical neighbour set about rubbing Sarah profusely with mustard. Sarah sat up, stung into renovated life, and so far recovered as to marry; ‘and I myself,’ says Mr. Jones, ‘christened four or five of her children in the course of the next few years.’ In another case, within Mr. Jones’ parochial experiences in London, a man employed as potman lay in extremis. A doctor was called in, who said ‘Turn him on his face, and I will put a thick strip of flannel soaked in spirits of wine down his spine. We will see what that will do.’ A sister brought a store of flannel, the doctor soaked it in spirit, and prepared to apply it as he proposed. First, however, he placed the soaking mass in a heap (almost as big as a small hassock) in the middle of his back. Meanwhile the sister leant forward with a candle and accidently set the hassock on fire. ‘This,’ adds the anecdotist, ‘woke the potman up;’ and not very long ago the doctor told me he had seen him in a street near the Oxford Circus.”

From the Daily Chronicle, September 19, 1895.

“Sir,—I infer from the following facts that numbers of persons are buried alive after being supposed to have succumbed to small-pox.

“Some years ago, at St. Paul’s, Belchamp, near Clare, a young man who had been down with the small-pox was pronounced to be dead, and was put into a coffin, which, fortunately, was left unclosed until after the bell began to toll for his funeral, when he rose and stepped out. He lived for many years after. In the same neighbourhood no less than three other similar cases occurred, saving that the undertakers were not so far forward in their work. Each of these would have been buried alive but for the facts that in one case the nurse, having suspicions, put a wine-glass over the mouth of the person (who had been already ‘laid out’), and on returning in a quarter of an hour found it dimmed with breath; and that in the other case the mother of a mother, who with her baby was declared by the doctor to be dead, had blankets heaped on them, and after a while had the satisfaction of seeing them revive. Two of these three persons are, I believe, still living, and would be just past middle-age. I enclose their names for your private perusal, that you may verify my statements if desired. The first-mentioned case happened about seventy years ago, but I heard of it from residents in the neighbourhood about forty years after it occurred.

“Nowadays as soon as a small-pox patient is supposed to be dead, he or she is enclosed in a coffin and hurried off to the church-yard or cemetery the ensuing night—at least this is the practice in country places. I have no doubt that many have been buried alive.—Yours faithfully,

“Ex-Curate.

“September 18.”

Brigade-Surgeon W. Curran cites from the Revue des Deux Mondes, April, 1873, in his Eighth Paper, entitled “Buried Alive,” as follows:—

“On the 15th of October, 1842, a farmer who lived in the suburbs of NeufchÂtel (Lower Seine) went to sleep in his hay-loft in the midst of some newly mown hay. As he did not get up at the usual hour the next morning, his wife went to call him, and found him dead. When the time for his funeral arrived, some twenty-four or thirty hours subsequently, those who were charged with the burial put the body on a bier, and having placed this on the ladder that communicated between the ground and the loft, they allowed it to slide down. IMPORTANCE OF CAREFUL EXAMINATION.All of a sudden one of the rungs of this ladder gave way, and the bier, falling through, was dashed violently on the pavement below. The shock, which might have been fatal to a live person, proved to be the ‘saving clause’ of our supposed dead one; and fortunately, too, the attendants had not, as so commonly happens in such contingencies, absconded; on the contrary, responding without delay to the requirements of the situation, they quickly realised the gravity of the crisis, and, unbinding the shrouds of the farmer, they soon restored him to consciousness and life. He was able, we are further told, to resume his ordinary duties in a few days afterwards.”[7]

The Undertakers’ and Funeral Directors’ Journal, January 22, 1889, says:—

“Mr. J. W. Smith, of 158 River Avenue, Alleghany” has just had, for instance, a remarkably narrow escape of prematurely putting his family in mourning, and one which will, we may be sure, be a very disagreeable recollection for him during the rest of his existence. After a visit to the Pittsburg Opera House one night, Mr. Smith was found lying ‘stiff and cold’ behind the stove in the dining-room, and apparently dead. A superficial examination by Dr. M’Cready confirmed the worst fears of Mrs. Smith, but subsequently the doctor sought carefully for any little spark of life which might lurk unseen, and, very fortunately for Mr. Smith, found it. But, beyond that, nothing could be accomplished; no effort to restore animation produced the slightest effect. Two other physicians were then summoned; but neither attempts at bleeding, the use of ‘mustard baths,’ nor the application of electricity, could rouse Mr. Smith after his visit to the opera. For three weeks he lay insensible, and when he regained consciousness a fever followed. This event, and some others of a similar character which are occasionally heard of, show that the examination of persons apparently dead should always be undertaken by an efficient person, and by no means in a perfunctory manner.”

The late Madame Blavatsky was subject to death-like trances, and Dr. Franz Hartmann informs me that she would have been buried alive if Colonel Olcott had not telegraphed to let her have time to awaken.

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