The Ebensburg Alleghanian. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1865-1871, 1866-05-10
Burded alive.

Is it true that sometimes "colnlng
events cast their shadows before % Is it
true that at times the mighty unknown Of
the future vaguely impresses itself upon
the present? | think so. IL not, then
how DO we get that prescience Of good or
evil that so strangely elevates US with
hope or depresses us with fear-tbat
throws over our spirits the serenity of a
placid lake, or the wild agitation of a
stormy sea
From my earliest recollection, I had
always been afraid Of being buried alive.
| DO not remember that the fear of death
had ever troubled me-only the fear of
entering the grave while yet living man,
and becoming conscious of it when too
late OF all the horrors which the mind
can copjure up, this to me always seemed
the most dreadful, and the fear of it fas-
tened itself upon me with ali the power Of
haunting specter, and it became one Of
the deep concerns Of my life to guard
against it. At twenty-five years of age
ordered my coffin and purchased my tomb.
The coffin was so So0stFGetkd Allet q living
person closed up in it could touch certain
springs and throw it all apart; and the
tomb was contrived with proper ventila-
ton, and provided with blankets and a
key inside, so that in case of life return
ing after burial, [ could secure myself
against deadly chill aud speedily find
my way out
Why had | this fear to lead me to these
precautions, unless the coming reality had
cast It's shadow upon me? Ny monoma-
ma, as many termed it, was known to all
my friends, every one of whom had been
separately charged to see me positively
dead before burial. But what are pre-
cautions taken against fate? | was doomed
to be buried alive, after all
At the time J. speak Of, | was twenty
seven years Of age, and living in my ma
tive place, an inland city. Urgent business
called me to Boston, where ] had only one
acquaintance, very dear friend, who had
often invited me to come and make him a
long visit Unfortunately, he was at this
time out of town, and expected to be alb
sent several days; but his family insisted
upon my making their house my home
during my stay in the city, and would not
In fact permit me 10 90 elsewhere. On
the third day, I had finished my business,
aaG, as it was the last Of the week, I de-
cided to remain some two or three days
longer, that l might get a sight of my
friend before leaving.
On the following m morniug, / was found
dead in my bed-at least, it was so repor-
ted /; and the strongest evidence I have
against it is the fact that | am living now.
The people of the house, of course, we're
very much excited and alarmed their
physician was called in, aud afterwards
the coroner. 1t was at length decided to
put me in a coffin, and place me in a
church vault till the return of my friend
who would of course have my body con-
veyed to my native place for final inter
ment.
Thus it S seen that all my precautions
availed me nothing for, abroad, almost
among strangers, [ had taken on the SEM
blance Of death, and had been coffined
and entombed in the ordinary way.
returned to consciousness in the night,
knew not then where was. My first
sensation was one of strange pressure AID
confinement l fancied, as in a dream,
THAI [ had been seized for maniac, a
strait jacket put upon me, and then forced
into narrow cell. This idea did not
long hold its place. As my mind grew
clearer, began to recall what had hap
pened during the past Week-leaving
home, going to Boston, transacting my
business, and so on. remembered being
at my friends house, and of deciding to
remain longer than | at first intended,
hoping for his return before my departure.
All this gradually became clear, along
with the last pleasant evening,I had spent
with his family. But then came blank.
What had happened since? And where
was / now? attempted to rise, and