In the year 1522 the tomb of William the Conqueror, in the Abbey Church of St. Stephen at Caen, was opened, and the body appeared as entire as when it was first buried. It is said that a local artist of the time painted a picture of the royal remains as they then appeared, and this was hung on the wall of the church where William was buried.
Some years later (in 1562) the Calvinists broke open the tomb of Matilda, William's wife, and discovered her body "apparelled in robes of state," &c.
Very remarkable details of the barbarous exhumations which took place in France at the end of the eighteenth century are to be found in 'Promenade aux Cimetières de Paris, aux Sépultures Royales de St. Denis, et aux Catacombes.' It will be remembered that the National Convention in the year 1793 passed a decree, upon the motion of Barrere, that the graves and monuments of the kings in St. Denis should be destroyed. Nor did it end with the kings, but the graves of all the celebrated persons who had been interred at St. Denis were opened also. The first coffin opened was that of Turenne. His body was found dry as a mummy and of a light bistre colour, the features perfectly resembling the portrait of this general (he had been buried for a hundred years). As Turenne was not specially disliked, some enthusiasm was affected at the sight of his remains, and Camille Desmoulins cut off one of his little fingers as a souvenir. The body was then handed over to a person corresponding to a sexton, and he kept it in a chest for some months to make a show of it.
Henry IV.'s grave was then violated. His features were found to be perfect. The head had been opened and the cavity filled with tow dipped in an aromatic extract so strong that the smell was unbearable. A soldier present cut off a lock of the beard, and, putting it upon his upper lip, made ribald remarks.
Louis XIV. was found in perfect preservation, but entirely black. The body of Louis XV. was fresh (he had died only a few years before, in 1774), but red, lying bathed in a liquor formed by the dissolution of the salt with which it had been covered.
In the coffin of Jeanne de Bourbon, wife of Charles V., a gilt distaff was found, with the remains of a crown, bracelet, and embroidered shoes. The body of Louis VIII. was the only one which had been sewed up in leather. The leather was strong and thick, and retained all its elasticity. The body and winding-sheet were almost consumed. In the vault of Francis I. there were six leaden coffins deposited on bars of iron. In each of these the remains were in a state of liquid putrefaction, the odour of which was unbearable.
The grave of Pope Sylvester II., otherwise known as Gerbert, was opened in 1648, and the following story is taken from F. Pica vet's excellent biographical study (Paris, Ernest Leroux, 1897):
"La légende, battue en brèche par Baronius, se découronne en 1648 quand Innocent X., pour réparer l'église de Saint-Jean-de-Latran, fit ouvrir le tombeau de Sylvestre II. 'Quand on creusa sous le portique, dit le chanoine Rasponi, le corps fut trouvé tout entier, couché dans un sépulchre de marbre, à une profondeur de douze palmes. Il était rev êtu des ornements pontificaux, les bras croisés sur la poitrine, la tête couverte de la tiare sacrée. Dès qu'on l'eut changé de place, l'action de l'air le fit tomber en poussière et il se répandit tout autour une odeur douce et agréable, peut-être à cause des parfums que l'on avait employés pour l'embaumer. Il n'en resta qu'une croix d'argent et l'anneau pontifical."—'Gerbert,' par F. Picavet, pp. 210-11.
Some very remarkable cases of premature burial and coffin-opening are given in Edgar Allan Poe's works. One of these narratives is of a woman who died at Baltimore, a town Poe was well acquainted with. The lady was buried in the family vault, which for three subsequent years was undisturbed. At the expiration of this term it was opened for the reception of a sarcophagus. The husband personally opened the door of the vault, and a white apparelled object fell rattling in his arms. A careful investigation made it evident that she had revived within two days after her entombment that her struggles within the coffin had caused it to fall from a ledge to the floor, where it was so broken as to permit her to escape. But she had swooned soon after, and as she fell her shroud became entangled in some ironwork. Thus she remained, and thus she rotted erect. (See Poe's essay on 'Premature Burial.')
John Wycliffe's body was buried at Lutterworth in 1384, but was dug up in 1414 and cast into the river at the south side of the town. No record exists of what actually took place, nor of what Wycliffe's features looked like.
