INTRODUCTION.
Amongst the many dreadful calamities incident to human nature, none surely is more horrid, nor can the thought be more appalling, than even in idea to be buried alive;—the very soul sickens at the thought. Yet terribly frightful as the imagination paints such a dire event, these things have been. Historical record clearly demonstrates the melancholy truth, and many a valuable member of society, has, I am fully persuaded, times past, been prematurely consigned to the grave before the vital spark has been extinct. To prevent, if possible, such deplorable events from ever again happening, is my principal motive in forming the present volume. The substance of a motto, I have somewhere seen, several years since, on a silver medal, whereon is prettily displayed the figure of a boy blowing with his mouth at a piece of lighted charcoal nearly extinguished, in hopes of again re-invigorating the flame, has ever since been indelibly impressed on my mind. “Who knows,” says the motto, “but one spark, may yet remain alive.” And I would recommend a similar impression to be deeply fixed on the minds of every person, as a standing criterion in all doubtful cases between life and death. It is a duty incumbent on ourselves, our friends and relatives, and the community at large, to be thus particular in such a momentous affair. Who amongst us, give me leave to ask, that has the least pretensions to common humanity, would hesitate for a single moment to perform so generous, though painful a duty, as that of carefully attending to the sad expiring moments of a departing friend? The duty must be reciprocal to every benevolent being, as sooner or later, the dreadful trial must be our own. From a sad mistaken humanity, surrounding friends are sometimes apt to persuade the nearest relatives that nothing more can be done for the dying person, and therefore prevent them from performing those kind offices of closing the eyes, and other marks of attention, which can only be expected from those who are deeply interested. Surely such a bounden duty as this, ought not to be left (as is too often the case) to some wretched mercenary nurse, or greedy hireling? forbid it humanity! I would recommend it to all surviving relatives, and others, who are interested, and have been attending with the kindest assiduity on the sick, not to desert their post, the moment the nurse has reported the death of her patient, but in this trying hour, if grief has not too much overpowered them, to exert every necessary recollection, to calm their feelings as much as human nature will permit, and if possible, not be persuaded to quit the room too hastily, (unless contagion is apprehended) nor suffer the poor departed friend to be stripped and pulled about, until indubitable signs clearly demonstrate life is no more. Many of the stories in this volume, well attested by regular bred professional gentlemen, of the highest respectability, expatiates largely on this humane, and interesting subject, and I would fain flatter myself, such necessary advice as they impart on so very important a subject, will cause in future in every family, a more than usual care and examination of their friends in the hour of death, and prior to interment. Were we but to bear in our minds the following animated lines from a celebrated poet, our attention to dying friends would be unremitting.
The danger which has arisen from burying in churches, and confined church yards, is so clearly proved by several remarkable instances in the present volume, that I shall say little more on the subject, but refer my readers to those important truths for information. Where it is absolutely necessary, a great number of dead bodies must be deposited in one small piece of ground, I would recommend a plan to be observed, something similar to the following, which I am of opinion, would prevent great confusion and danger, when a new grave is about to be opened. Let burying grounds in future, be divided into regular sections, of sufficient length and breadth, to admit of the largest human body, male or female. Over each of these divisions, regularly and distinctly mark in numerals from 1 to 100, more or less, according to the size of the ground. Then let the parish clerk, sexton, or some other proper person, keep an alphabetical ruled form, whereon must be regularly entered the day of the month, and year the person died in, christian and sir name of the deceased, parish where they resided, and a space annexed for the number and side of the wall, under which the defunct was buried, in like manner.
REGISTER OF FUNERALS.
| Name of the Deceased. | Time of Death. | Of what Parish belonging. | No. | Under what wall buried. |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Addison, Richard. | 1816. January 1. | St. Leonard’s Shoreditch. | 1. | South wall. |
| Barckley, Thomas. | February 18. | St. Vedast, Foster Lane. | 12. | North wall. |
I know not whether any similar plan to the above has ever yet been adopted, if not, I think great waste of ground may be prevented, and impure vapours greatly kept under. By duly attending to this register of death, (if I may be allowed the term) a regular gradation will constantly be attended to: this, will in a great measure prevent danger to the grave-digger, and the surrounding inhabitants. For instance, suppose a body to be laid in the grave under No. 1, a second under No. 2, a third under No. 3, and so on in like manner, until the whole number of spaces in the cemetery is filled up. By the time the last numbered grave is opened, if the burying ground is large, the first body buried under No. 1, will very probably be reduced to ashes, so that there will then be room to begin again in the same progressive manner: and if the body should not be quite dissolved (which can easily be ascertained by a reference to the above register) a few layers of earth and straw must be allowed as a barrier between the first and last corpse interred in the same grave. A little attention to some such method as this, would I am inclined to think, tend greatly to prevent danger in all confined church yards, preserve very frequently the life of the grave-digger, and render the air more pure and wholesome to the surrounding inhabitants of such doleful places. Another improvement may likewise be introduced, which would greatly tend to disperse all noxious effluvia, and make these dormitories less gloomy and unwholesome, I mean where the ground is sufficiently capacious, to plant it with certain shrubs and flowers. Many of the Eastern Nations are very particular in this respect, and set us a rare example for improvement. In the Great Mogul’s dominions, no places afford more delight to travellers, than their burying grounds. Their tombs are either built round, square, or with six or eight corners, and covered over archwise, and the remaining part of the ground is planted with fruit trees, and flowers, just as if they were laying out and planting an elysium. How preferable must places of this description be to our confined, and too often dirty habitations for the dead.
Respecting the sepulchral Lamps of the Ancients, however some people may be inclined to ridicule and discredit such reports, the descriptions are most certainly too curious and interesting to be omitted in a work of this kind. I have therefore selected from the most respectable documents, those records I conceived applicable to my work and deserving of notice. They are such descriptions, as I think ought to be paid much attention to, for in this age of invention, when chemistry is brought to great perfection, and many modern arts are on investigation, only found to be improvements of the Ancients, as is the case with the Gas-lights which shine so refulgent through our streets, it may probably by the philosophic experimentalist, at some future period be discovered by what art the Ancients constructed those perpetual lights which have so often been found in their sepulchres. Surely nothing can be too great for imitation. If the Mausoleums of our monarchs, and the tombs of the great could be illuminated, with a durable pale, silvery, phosphoric light, (which I do not conceive at all impracticable) it would render the mansions of the dead less terrific, be awfully grand and sublime, and transmit to posterity the improvements of the age. The idea of a continual light burning in our tombs after our decease, would to many, I am well convinced be so comfortable an anticipation, that the fear of death would be less dreadful, than when we expect, after the dread catastrophe, to remain for years in darkness.
That these, my humble efforts for the public good, or that any of the subsequent stories may be instrumental in preserving the life of but one fellow-creature, or that the hints I have treated so superficially, may induce some abler pen to enlarge on a subject so very important to all mankind, then will my utmost ambition be fully gratified.
J. TAYLOR.
Newington,
Nov. 18th, 1815.