The news and herald. (Winnsboro, S.C.) 1877-1900, 1883-05-31
Il New Form Of Madness.

Wlln plStOlS ana CLUBS, and are generally
accompanied by trained and savage
bloOdhounds. In addition to these eX-
ternal and tangible means of defense
they must be gifted with rare and pc
culiar mental organization. SO many
men have lost their reason through
watching graves at night that persons
III that position have come to believe
that they risk hpsing into a state of
melancholia perfectly distinct from any
other form of insanity. Sections and
grave diggers call the affection "tomb-
stone madneSs.'
a startling realization of this fact
was telegraphed throughout the co,n-
try recently. 1t was announced that
several Of the soldiers who do sentry
duty day and night ut the tomb of
Garfield, amid the drcary solitude of
Lake View Cemetery, near Cleveland,
have become insane. Anything or any
device is used by the men to get away
from the ghostly muster of t0mbSt ones
or the dark array of mounds. An old
Waterman at Glenwood Cemetery pX-
planned this to Il reporter recently by
saying that in all probability the
soldiers detailed at the grave were not
picked. "Takc half Il dozen men from
any walk of lifc," he continued, "and
place them at night to watch grave
yards, and the chances are that in Il
short time five of the six will feel like
retiring permanently TO Il lunatic aSy-
lum."
sir a man wants to enter this pro-
f"SSi0n and be Il success ut it he must
be about as impreSsionabc us brick and
mortar. If he has the least bit of inl-
agination he had better abandon the
business, for when the moon is obscurcd
by clouds and he is walking about Il
cemetery, shivering from his heels
upward, he will mistake tombstoncS
for ghosts. He will think that the
owls, as they whiz past his ear with
their m0urnful hoot, are unuuict
spirits come to haunt the rcceptaclcS of
the bodies which they once pcrmcatcd.
When the noise of his footsteps makes
the rats disappear with 4 rllStling sound
into little thickets OF evergrcens he
will start and grasp his weapon. The
very whine of his dog will make him
feel nervous, and bit by bit his reason
will become impaired"
VI could give you some sad rcmi-
nlSccnSeS OF people who watched grave
yards, said one Of the oldest wat chmcn
at Laurel Hill Cemetery, in Il strange,
solemn tone. Then, half icstingly, he
added: "But they're buried in the
past, and it's my business to let what's
buried remain So." lie did not mind
telling one story, however. 81 used to
work in a Brooklyn cemetery before
came to this city, he began. cit was
there that the terrible scene which l
Shall speak Oi occurred. We wanted
an assistant night Waterman very
badly, but none of the persons who pre-
sentcd themselves could endure staying
up with the graves fOr more than two
or three nights each. AT last there
came an unfortunate man whose health
seemed shattered by ovcrwork and
privation. 1t was his last venture. He
had tried to get employment everywhere
without result and his wife and child
rcn were suffering. We took him ON,
I don't think | Shall ever forget his
face the morning after his first night in
the graveyard. lie said he had endured
umheard-or agony, but was hopeful of
getting over it in time. The following
night was dark and windy. Rain came
down i'll torrents and there were flash
cS of lightning every few minutes. AT
about l o'clock the head wathman
heard Il low cry; there was Il sound of
running feat, followed by the report of
Il pistol. a search was made and the
unfortunate man was found lying on
his back across Il grave dead. There
was Il small hole in his temple, and his
own revolver, one barrel of which was
empty, lay three feet away, where he
had ilumg it, inbcded in the ground. 1t
was certain that some fearful creation
Of the imagination had SO terrified him
that he took his life to escape from it. +"
When the old mani had finished this
narrative he was silent for many min
utcs. He sat perfectly still, with II
vacant look, and allowed bright tears
to chase each other down his cheek.
Suddenly he made II brisk motion and
forcibly forgot the subject of his narra-
tive. '"Thcre are amusing things some
times" he said, speaking at first with
an effort. GA short time ago a man
was put to work at night in cemetery
not far from here. lie Stroled around
in an affected indifferent way, whistlng
tunes dear to his countrymcn. In the
course of his rambling he tlmblcd
bodily into Il ncwly-madc grave, and Il
lot of loose earth feel on linn when he
reached the bottom. He struggled
wildly, and in about an hour and three
quarters managed to get out, screaming
Justify that the devil had ding Il grave
and tried to bury him in it. With IL
single bound he cleared four-foot
fence, rolled down Il forty-foot hill, and
that's the last of him, for no one about
here ever set eyes on him again, dead or
alive. lie must have gone back to
Ireland, for he wasn't hurt at all.
Some practical jolIcrs once tried to
scare II watchman, Il friend Of mine.
1t was immense fun-for the watch
man. They got into the cemetery dis
guiscd as body-snatchcrs, and pretended
to be opening graves. There were three
individuals. One got seven buckshot
in him, the second received five in his
leg, and forget what happened to the
third. The only thing that is more
dangerous than watching graves is
robbing thcm.''
"What is it produces this dreadful
mclanch0lia?" asked the reporter.
The old man looked around him mys-
tcri0usly and added, as he moved away:
"l'm not doctor nor q scholar, but |
have my belief that it's the miasma
from the graves that poisons the blood
and warps tho brain. Just see, cool as
1t is this evening, the vapor is rising
rising" And the old watchman
pointed toward the setting sun, against
which blazing background q filmy mist