Dealings with the Dead, Volume 1 (of 2)

In Short

This book is a wide-ranging series of essays and anecdotes written from the perspective of an old-school sexton, a man who has spent a lifetime tending to the departed. Blending historical research, local lore, and sharp legal commentary, the author explores everything from ancient burial rites to the macabre realities of body snatching and the injustices of criminal trials. It is a work of curiosity and conscience, rooted in the author’s long experience with the churchyard and the courtroom. Its lasting appeal lies in its voice—cynical, learned, and deeply concerned with the dignity of the dead and the moral health of the living.

The Story

The narrative begins with a young boy’s fascination with the rituals of Trinity Church in Boston. The sexton-narrator describes the chilling solemnity of the burial service, where the heavy, rhythmic thud of gravel upon a coffin lid became etched in his memory. This early initiation into the world of the dead shapes his lifelong profession, leading him to observe both the reverence and the absurdity inherent in how we treat the deceased.

From these personal reflections, the narrative widens to examine the global history of the dead. The author recounts bizarre historical practices—such as the skin of John Zisca being fashioned into a drum—before shifting to a more modern and clinical horror: the "vampyre" trade of body snatching. He details how the scarcity of corpses for medical anatomy led to murder, citing the notorious cases of Burke and Bishop, who lured the poor to their deaths to sell their bodies to surgeons.

The story then turns to the sanctity of the grave and the indignities of the vault. The narrator laments how curiosity seekers and "speculating proprietors" disturb the final resting place, often leaving remains exposed to the elements or the reach of the living. He advocates for more humane, earth-based burials, decrying the move toward cramped, overcrowded city tombs.

As the narrative progresses, it takes a firm stance against the excesses of the past and the injustices of the present. The author dives into the history of British capital punishment, critiquing the absurdity of a legal system that once made sheep-stealing a capital offense, yet often ignored the nuances of human frailty. This leads into an impassioned defense of William Penn, whom the author believes has been unfairly maligned by historians like Macaulay. Through these accounts, the narrator champions truth and fair dealing, whether in historical biographies or in the courtroom.

The arc concludes with a series of legal inquiries that mirror the author's preoccupation with justice. He analyzes the famous Boorn brothers case, where two men were nearly hanged for a murder that never occurred—the victim, Russell Colvin, was found alive. The narrator uses this to highlight the dangers of coerced confessions and the judicial folly of ignoring the necessity of a physical body in proving a homicide. He leaves the reader not with a tidy resolution, but with a challenge to continue the work of humanizing the law and respecting the boundary between the living and the dead.

How It Unfolds

The childhood initiation The narrator recalls his early days as an amateur observer at Trinity Church, where the booming voice of a clergyman and the rattling of gravel against a coffin first introduced him to the reality of human mortality.

The anatomy of the grave The book surveys the gruesome history of bodysnatching and the commodification of human remains by early medical students, underscoring the tension between the needs of science and the rights of the dead.

The ethics of burial Moving from the anatomical to the architectural, the narrator critiques the use of urban burial vaults, arguing that they are offensive to public health and prone to desecration by the curious.

Historical and political critiques The author digresses into the history of the American Revolution and British legal codes, using the Boston Port Bill and the life of William Penn to illustrate how historical figures are often distorted by the biases of later writers.

The fallibility of the courts The final chapters focus on the dangers of circumstantial evidence, using the harrowing case of the Boorn brothers to argue that the law is frequently blinded by its own desire for a conviction.

The People

The central figure is the Sexton, an observant and moralizing narrator who acts as a bridge between the living world and the quiet, often disrespected domain of the dead. He is both a witness to history and a critic of modernity, constantly measuring the actions of his peers against the standards of antiquity.

William Penn is presented as the book's moral hero. The author defends him against the accusations of historians, portraying him as a man of principle who maintained his dignity in the face of royal coercion. His refusal to remove his hat before Charles II serves as the definitive symbol of his integrity.

Judge Dudley Chace and the figures involved in the Boorn brothers trial represent the failure of human justice. Their eagerness to secure a conviction, regardless of the absence of a body, highlights the author’s fear of state-sanctioned murder disguised as the rule of law.

Dr. Caner, the rector who fled with the church plate in 1776, appears as a spectral figure in the narrator’s visions. He represents the lingering, unresolved tensions of the Revolutionary era that still haunt the halls of the church.

Finally, the Boorn brothers serve as the tragic center of the legal argument. They are the victims of a system that would rather hang a man than admit a mistake. Their plight transforms the narrator from a quiet observer of funerals into a vocal advocate for the reform of criminal justice.

In Its Own Voice

The deep, sepulchral voice of Mr. Parker--he was not Bishop then--filled me with a most delightful horror.

The author reflects on his early childhood experience attending a funeral, where the atmosphere of the church vault left an indelible, chilling impression on his young mind.

In 1809, Burke was executed in Edinburgh, for this species of murder.

The narrator recounts the chilling rise of the body-snatching trade, noting how the demand for corpses for medical dissection incentivized the murder of the friendless and poor.

It seems as if shovel and all were cast upon the coffin lid.

The author describes the visceral, sensory experience of witnessing a burial, capturing the finality of the service as the sexton performed his duty by covering the coffin with coarse gravel.

What It's Really About

At its core, this book is an argument for the sanctity of the human person, both before and after death. It explores the tension between our primitive fear of death and our rational attempts to manage it through religion, medicine, and law. The author questions why humanity so often fails to treat its dead with dignity, whether by exposing remains to the gaze of the curious or by using them to satisfy the cravings of medical students. Simultaneously, it is a critique of institutional power. Whether discussing the British Parliament’s "penny-wise" colonial policies or the local judge’s rush to judgment in a murder trial, the narrator is consistently preoccupied with the way arrogance and impatience lead to injustice. The book asks us to look at the dead not as objects, but as a mirror for our own moral failings.

Why Read It Today

Readers who appreciate a voice that is both curmudgeonly and deeply thoughtful will find much to admire in these pages. The prose is distinctively 19th-century—verbose, erudite, and occasionally prone to long digressions—which gives it an atmosphere that is at once intimate and historical. It feels like sitting with an elderly, well-read acquaintance who has spent too much time in cemeteries and has consequently reached some very firm, slightly morbid conclusions about life.

The book is not without its difficulties. The references to specific 18th and 19th-century legal cases, religious controversies, and obscure classical texts can be dense for a modern reader. Furthermore, the author’s Victorian-era views on gender and social order appear frequently, which may feel jarring to contemporary sensibilities. However, for those interested in the history of American thought, the evolution of funeral practices, or the darker side of medical history, this book offers a unique, unfiltered perspective.

What stays with you is the narrator’s persistent demand for human decency. Whether he is discussing the proper way to bury the poor or the proper way to handle a trial for murder, he reminds the reader that justice and respect are not abstract concepts, but are revealed in the smallest, most concrete actions we take toward one another. It is a slow, meditative read that forces you to confront the inevitable with a bit more gravity and a lot more skepticism toward the powers that be.