Terrified of being buried alive? Fortunately, thanks to the 19th Century’s bizarre obsession with premature burial, you can purchase any number of patented safety coffins!
You might try Christian Henry Eisenbrandt’s 1841 coffin, with a spring-loaded door that would instantly open with the slightest pressure from the inside! You might wonder how useful this would be if you didn’t revive until you were buried under six feet of Earth…well, Mr. Eisenbrandt suggests that you leave your coffin above ground for several days, preferably in a mortuary, so that you can spring to life and spook the poor attendant who witnesses your miraculous revival into a heart attack. Seems like a fair trade!
Or, if you’re worried that your corpse will be interred, you could try Franz Vester’s “burial tube.” Vester, a German immigrant living in Newark, New Jersey, came up with an elaborate “burial case” that turned one of Mankind’s oldest horrors into a relaxing vacation, complete with food, drink and fresh air:
The most important part of the invention is a box about two feet square, resembling very much a chimney, with a coves and ornamental grave work on the top. The box is of sufficient length to extend from the head of the coffin to about one foot above the ground. The cover is fastened down by a catch on the inside, and cannot be unfastened from the outside. Just below the cover is a bell similar to those used on street railway cars, with a cord appended, which, upon being pulled, sounds an alarm, and at the same time a spring throws the cover from the ‘chimney-box.’
Then if the person on the inside have sufficient strength, he or she can take hold a rope suspended from near the top of the chimney-box, and, with the assistance of cleats nailed to the sides, ascend to the outer world; or otherwise the individual can rest at ease, munch his lunch drink the wine, and ring the bell for the sexton to come and assist him out.
Vester demonstrated his device in October 1867. He planned to stay underground for hours, enjoying a subterranean rest. But the crowd became nervous, and a signal was sent to Vester. “A minute after Mr. Vester unaided, stepped out of his living grave,” the article reported, “with no more perceptible exhaustion than would have been caused by walking two or three blocks under the hot sun.”
Premature burial remained an obsession until medical advances greatly decreased the likelihood of misdiagnosed death. Wealthy families installed increasingly elaborate methods for ensuring their potential rescue, including a woman in Louisiana who had a telephone installed her in coffin, with a direct line to the cemetery keeper. Pity the poor worker, preparing to head home on a foggy evening at the cemetery, receiving that call just as the Sun dips below the horizon.
But suppose you don’t want to wait around for someone to rescue you. Well, Thomas Pursell of Williamsport, PA considered that exact possibility in the early 20th Century. In Wildwood Cemetery, he commissioned a cushy burial vault complete with a wheel lock that could operated from the inside. But, because comfort is always a concern of the undead, he insured that the crypt came with handy air vents, felt-lined coffin space and a storage area for any food you might consume during your vacation to the afterlife.