CHAPTER XXI.

SUSPENDED ANIMATION AND PREMATURE BURIAL.

Facts of Startling Import.--The Case of Washington

Irving Bishop.--Other Instances of Suspended

Animation.--Vampirism.--Catalepsy.--East Indian Fakirs buried

alive for Months.--Fundamental Errors.--Catalepsy not a

Disease.--A Recuperative Agent.--The Law of Suggestion governs

the Phenomena.--Subjective Insensibility impossible.--Suggestion

of Death deepens the Lethargy.--The Appalling Dangers of

Catalepsy.--The Proper Treatment.

There is another psychic phenomenon which deserves a passing notice at

our hands, not only because it is governed by the same laws which have

been discussed, but because it is a matter of transcendent practical

interest and importance. I refer to the subject of suspended animation,

and consequent premature burial.

I know of but one physician in this country who has given serious

attention to this subject. Nothing in authoritative form has yet

appeared from his pen, but I am credibly informed that he has collected

an array of facts of veritable significance. One assertion of startling

import is that in the United States an average of not less than one

case a week is discovered and reported. This statement alone attests

the importance of the subject, although due allowance must be made for

possible exaggeration. Be that as it may, the appalling possibility of

premature burial as a result of a condition so common as catalepsy,

the psychic aspects of which are so little understood in this country,

invests the subject with more than ordinary interest.

The following cases have been personally investigated by the writer,

and serve to illustrate the dangers which menace the cataleptic

subject. Names are omitted, at the request of the parties interested.

The first case is that of a young lady, near Indianapolis, who came

to life after fourteen days of suspended animation. Six doctors had

applied the usual tests, and pronounced her dead. Her little brother

clung to her, against the opinion of the doctors and the will of

the parents, and frantically declared that she was not dead. In the

excitement the bandage which held her jaw in place was accidentally

pushed aside. The jaw fell, and the brother fancied that he saw his

sister's tongue moving slowly.

"What do you want, sister?" cried the little fellow.

"Water," was the faint answer from the supposed corpse.

Water was administered, the patient revived, and is yet living.

A lady who is now at the head of one of the largest orphan asylums

of a Western city has been twice pronounced dead by the attending

physicians, twice prepared for the grave, and twice resuscitated by her

friends. On the last occasion extraordinary precautions were taken, in

view of her former experience. All the tests known to her physicians

were applied, and all doubts were set at rest. She was a second time

professionally declared to be dead, and the physicians left the house.

In preparing the body for burial it was accidentally pricked by a pin.

Soon afterwards it was discovered that a small drop of blood marked

the spot where the pin entered. This once more roused the hope of the

family, and vigorous treatment soon restored her to consciousness. She

is living to-day, a vigorous, useful woman. It is proper to note here

that upon being restored, the lady declared that she had never for a

moment lost consciousness, that she knew all that went on around her,

perfectly comprehended the significance of all the tests which were

applied, but felt the utmost indifference as to the result, and was

neither surprised nor alarmed when it was decided that she was dead.

A few years ago, a gentleman of Harrisburg, Pa., apparently died after

a long period of suffering from inflammatory rheumatism, complicated

with heart trouble. Preparations were made for the funeral; but his

wife refused to allow the body to be packed in ice, fearing the

possibility of a premature burial, and announced her determination

to keep it for at least a week. The next day her hopes were realized

by finding her husband with his eyes wide open, and one of his arms

out of the position in which it had been placed. She called loudly

for him to arise, and with assistance he did so, and was placed in a

chair. Physicians were summoned, but before their arrival he was so

far recovered that their aid was unnecessary, and he soon recovered

from his illness. He states that during the time of suspended animation

he was perfectly cognizant of all that occurred around him, heard the

lamentations of the stricken family and the preparations for burial,

but was unable to move a muscle or utter a sound.

The reading public has not forgotten the death of Washington Irving

Bishop, the celebrated mind-reader, which occurred under circumstances

that called forth the declaration on the part of his friends and

relatives that he was not dead before the surgeon's knife penetrated

his brain; that on several previous occasions he had been in a

cataleptic state, resembling death, for many hours at a time; and that

on one of these occasions his attending physicians had pronounced

him dead. The public will not soon forget the thrill of horror which

was felt when it was learned with what unseemly haste an autopsy was

performed upon that unfortunate man.

These are not exceptional cases, nor is the phenomenon of modern

origin. It can be traced back through all the ages of which there are

records preserved, until it is lost in the twilight of tradition and

fable.

In all human probability the ancient belief in vampirism had its origin

in discovered cases of suspended animation. It will be remembered

that whenever a corpse was suspected of being a vampire, the grave

was opened and the body was examined. If it showed no signs of

decomposition, the fact was held to be indubitable evidence of guilt.

The punishment was summary, and fully as effective as a modern autopsy;

it consisted in driving a stake through the heart. This simple process

effectually laid the "vampire ghost," and it no longer possessed the

power to "suck the blood of the living," and thus "continue to live

on in the grave," to use the language of an ancient official document

defining the characteristics of a vampire.

Revolting and gross as was the superstition relating to vampirism,

is it not possible that, like most legendary tales, it had a basis

of truth, and that an essential part of that truth consisted, as

before remarked, of the fact that the cases referred to were cases of

suspended animation? Many cases are reported which appear to be well

authenticated, and they all seem to sustain this theory. One case

(which was officially attested) is related, where the body of a man

suspected of vampirism was exhumed after it had lain in the grave three

weeks. No signs of decomposition being visible, a stake was driven

through the heart, "upon which," says the report, "fresh blood gushed

from the mouth and ears."

Another case is mentioned of one Arnold Paul, a Hungarian, whose body

was exhumed after it had been buried forty days. "His body," says the

narrator, "was red; his hair, nails, and beard had grown again, and

his veins were replete with fluid blood." The stake was brought into

requisition, and as it pierced his heart, he "uttered a frightful

shriek, as if he had been alive."

Two erroneous impressions very generally prevail regarding catalepsy,

or suspended animation. One is that depriving the subject of air will

cause death in a few hours. Another is that catalepsy is a disease, or

is always the result of disease. Both of these hypotheses are clearly

disproved by the well-known experiments of the East Indian fakirs.

One of the most clearly attested instances of the kind alluded to is

the experiment of the Fakir of Lahore, who, at the instance of Runjeet

Singh, suffered himself to be buried alive in an air-tight vault for

a period of six weeks. This case was thoroughly authenticated by Sir

Claude Wade, the then British Resident at the court of Loodhiana.

The fakir's nostrils and ears were first filled with wax; he was

then placed in a linen bag, then deposited in a wooden box which was

securely locked, and the box was deposited in a brick vault which was

carefully plastered up with mortar and sealed with the Rajah's seal. A

guard of British soldiers was then detailed to watch the vault day and

night. At the end of the prescribed time the vault was opened in the

presence of Sir Claude and Runjeet Singh, and the fakir was restored to

consciousness.

Lieutenant Boileau relates another instance where a man suffered

himself to be buried for a period of ten days in a grave lined with

masonry and covered with a large slab of stone, the whole strictly

guarded day and night. On being restored to consciousness, the man

offered to submit to burial for a year, if the lieutenant so desired.

Many other well-authenticated instances are related by British

residents in India, but these must suffice. In all these cases the

subjects were in perfect health when the experiments were made, and in

each instance the body, when disinterred, was found to present all the

characteristics indicating death, except decomposition.

Volumes might be filled with well-authenticated cases of suspended

animation, varying in duration from a few hours to many months; but it

would be foreign to the purpose of this chapter to cite any. Sufficient

instances have been given to illustrate the points which I shall

attempt to make, as well as to show the intrinsic importance of the

subject and the danger to be apprehended from ignorance of the psychic

principles involved.

The fundamental error into which many physicians have fallen consists

in the assumption that catalepsy is, _per se_, a disease. It must be

said, however, to the credit of the profession, that no one pretends to

understand it. Most medical writers confess that if it is a disease,

it is one of which the pathology is but little understood by the

profession, and they aver that morbid anatomy throws no light upon it

whatever. In fact, some well-known writers have doubted its existence,

and have attributed the recorded cases to gross imposture. It is,

however, generally held to be a functional nervous disorder; but the

tendency of modern investigation is in the direction of its psychic

aspects, and moral means are now largely employed in its treatment by

the best physicians.

The truth appears to be that catalepsy is not a disease in any proper

sense of the word. The most that can be said is that it may be

considered a symptom of certain diseases. That is to say, inasmuch

as it commonly attacks those who are suffering from certain nervous

disorders, it might be said to be a symptom indicating the presence of

such disorders. But, I repeat, it is not a disease _per se_; and one

prominent medical authority goes so far as to admit that "in itself

catalepsy is never fatal." He might have gone further, and said that

other diseases are rarely fatal when catalepsy supervenes.

Catalepsy belongs exclusively to the domain of hypnotism. I employ this

term in the broadest significance of its Greek radix; for no matter how

the condition is induced, it is purely a sleep of the objective senses,

a suspension of the vital functions, a rest of all the vital organs. It

can be induced in perfectly healthy persons by the hypnotic processes

on the one hand, or, on the other, it may supervene after a long period

of illness or nervous exhaustion. In both cases the phenomenon is

the same; and when the patient is intelligently treated, the effect

is always salutary. It is, in the highest sense of the phrase, a

manifestation of the _vis conservatrix naturæ_; it is, of a truth,

"tired nature's sweet restorer, balmy sleep."

Catalepsy is always easily induced in a hypnotic subject by the

ordinary processes known to hypnotists, and the normal condition is as

easily restored. It is always refreshing to the subject, especially

when he is exhausted by mental or physical labor,--far more so than

is ordinary sleep of the same duration. The same is true of the

catalepsy which supervenes after a long period of illness or of nervous

exhaustion. That this statement is true of the first class, we have

the testimony of all who have been subjects of intelligent experiment.

That it is true of the second class also, is attested by the fact that

suspended animation is nearly always followed by the recovery of the

patient from illness. The cataleptic condition marks the crisis in many

diseases, especially those of the nerves. If the patient is properly

managed during that crisis, his convalescence is assured.

Catalepsy may properly be divided into four classes, differing from

one another only in the causes which induce the condition. The first

is catalepsy from hypnotic suggestion; the second, epidemic catalepsy;

the third, self-induced catalepsy; the fourth, catalepsy arising from

disease or nervous exhaustion. Suggestion is the all-potent factor in

the production of the catalepsy of the first three classes, as it is

in the production of all other hypnotic phenomena. The suggestion may

come, first, from an operator who purposely induces the condition as

an experiment. Secondly, it may arise from the patient seeing other

cataleptic subjects. In such cases, catalepsy may run through a whole

school or a neighborhood, precisely as does epidemic insanity, St.

Vitus's dance, and many other nervous troubles. "Imitation," or the

disposition to imitate, has generally been assigned as the cause of

such manifestations becoming epidemic among children. But this is a

palpable error. It arises rather from the fear that each one feels--the

mental suggestion that each one makes--that he or she may be the

next victim. Thirdly, self-induced catalepsy is illustrated in the

experiments of the East Indian fakirs, and arises from auto-suggestion.

In these cases the condition is purely hypnotic, and is self-induced by

simple processes, well known to all who have made an intelligent study

of hypnotism as practised in the Orient.

It is not, however, with these classes that we have to deal in this

chapter, but rather with cases which arise from disease or nervous

exhaustion. In such cases, suggestion can hardly be considered as an

initial cause, although, as we shall see further on, it is a potent

factor in deepening, prolonging, and terminating the condition.

I have said that catalepsy marks the crisis in certain diseases.

It is, in fact, the supreme effort of nature to give the exhausted

nerves their needed rest. When this fact is once appreciated, and the

patient is intelligently treated on its basis, much needless alarm

will be saved, and many fatal errors will be avoided. The patient in

that condition is enjoying absolute rest. All the vital processes are

practically suspended. He is free from all pain, and is enjoying a

refreshing sleep,--a sleep so profound that it may be truly likened

to its "twin-brother, death." The depth and duration of the trance

will depend upon the necessities of the case. That is to say, it will

be proportioned to the severity of the patient's illness, and his

consequent need of rest and recuperation.

The primary mistake which many physicians make in managing cataleptic

patients consists in seeking, by heroic treatment, to hasten

restoration to consciousness. No greater mistake is possible. If the

attempt is successful, it causes a fearful shock to the nerves, and

the effort is thwarted which nature is making to relieve the patient

and give rest to his already overstrained nervous system. If it is

unsuccessful, the patient is threatened with the danger of being buried

alive, or of an autopsy. These dangers are ever present; and as long as

physicians fail to recognize the pregnant fact that an advanced stage

of decomposition is the only infallible test of death, just so long

will the human race be menaced with the horrors of premature burial.

The most important branch, however, of the subject of catalepsy is that

pertaining to its psychological features. I have said that catalepsy

belongs to the domain of hypnotism. I mean by this, not only that the

phenomenon is identical with the condition which can be produced by

the ordinary hypnotic processes, but that the cataleptic patient is

amenable to precisely the same psychological laws which govern the

ordinary hypnotic subject.

The two fundamental propositions which bear upon this subject are the

following:--

First, a patient in a case of suspended animation or catalepsy, induced

by disease or nervous exhaustion, is amenable to control by suggestion

precisely as he is in the ordinary hypnotic state.

Second, a patient in that condition is always conscious, subjectively,

of all that happens around him. That is to say, no matter how

profoundly the objective senses are locked in slumber, the subjective

faculties are ever alert, and the subject recognizes, often with great

acuteness, everything that goes on around him. This fact is not always

recognized by hypnotists, and it is safe to say that ignorance of this

one truth has been the source of more erroneous conclusions regarding

the significance of hypnotic phenomena than all other causes combined.

Hundreds of cases are reported where the patients noted all the

preparations for burial and all that was said and done, and yet were

unable to move or make the fact known that they were alive. This seems

to be the universal testimony, although it is possible that the patient

might not, in all cases, remember what he had experienced. In fact,

it is common for hypnotic subjects to forget their experiences during

the sleep; but that does not militate against the fact that they were

subjectively conscious at that time.

The conclusions derivable from these premises are as important as

they are obvious. The first and most vital is that when a patient is

suffering from a disease which will induce catalepsy, and begins to

enter that state, the usual remarks and conversation of those at the

bedside must inevitably tend to deepen and prolong the lethargy. The

patient appears to be dying. The friends, by word and action, are

conveying the impression that death is at hand. The physician feels

the pulse, which grows fainter and fainter, until it is no longer

perceptible. He examines the heart until its pulsations cease. Finally,

he turns to the stricken friends, and in a solemn voice announces that

all is over,--the patient is dead. Now, if it happens that it is merely

a case of catalepsy, or suspended animation, the announcement by the

physician that the patient is dead is an all-potent suggestion which

is, and must inevitably be, seized upon by the subject and carried to

its legitimate conclusion. A case of prolonged suspension of animation

is the inevitable result, as the laws of hypnotism teach, if they teach

anything. The patient actually believes that he is dead. The statement

of this proposition seems almost ridiculous; but when it is remembered

that no suggestion seems absurd or incongruous to the hypnotic subject,

the proposition is seen at once to be an absolute verity. Who has not

dreamed of being dead? Few, if any, have not had this experience; and

yet the incongruity of the two ideas--of being dead and of calmly

reflecting on the subject--never strikes the dreamer's subjective

intelligence. Subjective impressions never seem absurd or incongruous

to the subject. This principle runs through all subjective mental

action, from the dreams of the healthy sleeper to the hallucinations of

the monomaniac. Subjective intelligence, be it remembered, is capable

of exercising but one form of reasoning,--the deductive. But it will

reason deductively from any premise imparted to it, by any form of

suggestion, with great acumen; and it never arrives at a conclusion

inconsistent with the premise,--that is, the suggestion. All the facts

known to the individual's objective experience which are inconsistent

with that premise stand for nought in presence of the one ever-present

idea. That idea is the major premise, unquestioned and indisputable, of

a syllogism which he will inevitably complete with logical accuracy.

It is easy to see from what has been said what an appalling,

ever-present danger menaces the patient who, from any cause, becomes

cataleptic, especially the one who has reached the crisis of a

lingering illness, and is surrounded by physicians and friends who are

ignorant of the psychological principles involved. The natural language

of the emotions of the surviving friends, the wail of hopeless grief,

the administration of the sacraments of the Church, and, finally, the

authoritative announcement of the doctor that "He is dead!" all tend to

the one result. When to these are added the ice-pack or the embalmer's

fluid, it remains only for the performance of an autopsy to give the

_coup de grâce_.

I shall not attempt to apply the principles here laid down to

particular cases. Those who are cognizant of the circumstances of any

case, either recorded or within their own private experience, will

easily recognize their significance. Nor shall I attempt to prescribe

the specific course to be pursued where suspended animation is

suspected, as that is the province of the physician in attendance on

each particular case. My object will have been accomplished if what I

have said shall be the means of directing the attention of the medical

profession to the psychic aspects of catalepsy, and to a more careful

study of the psychology of that science which has suffered so much

at the hands of charlatanism on the one hand, and prejudice on the

other,--hypnotism.

Nevertheless, a few general observations regarding the proper course to

be pursued may not seem impertinent. It is obvious that when catalepsy

is suspected, or is possible, all allusion to or suggestion of death

should be avoided, especially by the physician in attendance. It should

not for a moment be forgotten that, however profoundly the objective

senses may be locked in insensibility, subjectively the patient is

awake and is taking cognizance of all that occurs, and appreciates with

wonderful, acuteness the significance of every word that is uttered. It

should be remembered that since suggestion can induce catalepsy, it can

also deepen and prolong the period of its duration. Conversely, it is

the most potent means of restoration. Other restoratives should rarely,

if ever, be resorted to. Violent means should never be employed. The

essential thing is a cheerful, confident demeanor in all present at the

bedside. Time should always be given for the conservative forces and

recuperative powers of nature to do their legitimate work, and in due

season the patient, who "is not dead, but sleepeth," will awake; or, in

obedience to suggestion, will "arise and come forth," saved from the

jaws of death,--rescued from the horrors of a living grave.

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The Law of Psychic Phenomena A working hypothesis for the systematic study of hypnotism, spiritism, mental therapeutics, etc. · 第 21 / 27 章