1847—1862
SACO, MAINE
Arlene’s daughter, Mandy, and her fiancé, Justin, live in Biddeford, Maine. Saco is the adjoining town. The towns are so close together that there are some who refer to the area as Saco-Biddeford. Saco is a typical sleepy little eastern Maine town. It appears that once, while the residents slept, there were some who were reported to be roaming the night, sucking the life out of their loved ones.
In Dr. Michael Bell’s Food for the Dead, there is mention of a series of exorcisms that took place in Saco between 1847 and 1862. Although there are no specific names, there are references to this fact in a pamphlet by Dr. Henry Ingersoll Bowditch (1808–1892). Taking Mr. Bell’s lead, I decided to look up the writing myself. The pamphlet Consumption in New England: Or Locality One of Its Chief Causes: An Address Delivered before the Massachusetts Medical Society outlines vaguely the cases of consumption and their treatment.
Dr: Allen of Saco, Maine, than whom there lives no more intelligent witness—a practitioner of long standing—assures me that, in his own practice, for fifteen years past, he has noticed that on two ridges of land, whose only difference consists of this characteristic of moisture of the soil, almost every family has been decimated on the wet part, while almost all upon the dry portion have escaped.
He goes on to describe the surrounding area and then adds, “In fact, in former times, the superstitious frequently had their friends, who died of consumption, disinterred…”
Entering Saco, Maine, where exhumations for vampirism were once reported to have taken place.
Bowditch also explains, in depth, how the wet and damp locales of New England were rife with the dreaded disease. He cites statistical data to back up his theory that consumption was much more prevalent in these damp areas. He also had doctors and specialists from various places throughout New England back up his findings. He mentions that a Dr. Trafton of Kennebunkport, Maine, substantiated that consumption cases occurred in greater numbers near the port, where the soil and coastal exposure created damp conditions. Kennebunk, with its wooded land, higher elevation, drier climate and fewer open areas, was in contrast to the port region. Consumption was found in a much lesser degree in places where the climate was drier.
Bowditch, through his research and experiments, came to a few conclusions about the disease. One was that consumption was not equally distributed across the region. Another was that the amount of cases from one area to another depended on the soil near where the patients resided. He also concluded that the moisture within the soil gave rise to consumption.
Through his research and conclusions, Bowditch believed he better understood the causes, treatments and preventative measures pertaining to consumption. Many of his colleagues supported his belief. However, the disease still raged across the region regardless of terrain or climate. (An interesting note is that Bowditch was chairperson for the Massachusetts 1847-1862 State Board of Health, as well as president of the American Medical Association. He published a few writings on inductive reasoning in medicine and concepts of state and public health. His work would have been highly regarded by his peers.)
Arlene and I decided to take a trip up to Saco and see what we could find. The first place to look would be a cemetery. If most of these incidents took place in the fifteen-year period between 1847 and 1862, chances are, the deceased would have family plots in a garden cemetery. Garden cemeteries—large, landscaped burial grounds—became popular in the early nineteenth century. The first chartered burial ground in the United States is reported to be the Grove Street Burial Ground, established in New Haven, Connecticut, and incorporated in October 1797. It is also hailed as the first nonprofit private burial ground in the world. The planned layout, family-owned plots and carefully landscaped flora and trees were something no one really saw in this country until the Mount Auburn Cemetery opened in Cambridge in 1831.
Sure enough, Mandy and Justin knew where the only cemetery of such caliber was in Saco. We soon came upon the Laurel Hill Cemetery, a well-groomed, large burial ground with little bridges crossing a stream and twisting little lanes much akin to older cemeteries. Mandy’s four-wheel drive Tracker was perfect for the time of year, January, when the roads were barely plowed if at all. We snaked through the cemetery, sometimes ramming through the snow banks left behind by the plows. Our main goal was to find stones and plots from that period (1847–1862) of family members who may have died in close succession. A subsequent visit in July enabled us to explore further, as the roads were clear. Sure enough, there were plots where the dates on the stones were from the same year or very close. While this, of course, is not proof that consumption was the cause or that these were the families Dr. Bowditch referred to in his paper, it certainly points to that possibility.
Laurel Hill Cemetery in Saco, Maine. There are several plots in this cemetery of family members who died very close together.
The actual names of the families about whom Dr. Bowditch and Dr. Allen speak remain a matter of conjecture. With no actual writing in stone, it is hard to tell if consumption was the actual cause of death or if these people were claimed by one of the many other diseases that plagued New England during the time.
1854
IEWETT CITY, CONNECTICUT
Vampires and New England go hand in hand. It seems that these creatures that were thought to roam the dark corners of humankind’s domain made a special home in the rustic little hamlets of the region. Although Rhode Island may claim to be the vampire capital of America, just over the border of the Ocean State were a few very famous accounts pertaining to the creatures of the night.
The grotesque details of the next few paragraphs are sure to make you shudder. Jewett City, a small village in the town of Griswold, is the next destination for this most bizarre narrative.
Griswold is the perfect little New England town. Farms dot the landscape, and historic homes lace the one-lane scenic thoroughfares. One would not expect its boundaries to be infected with the devil’s concubine, but at one time, people thought exactly that, and measures were taken to banish the evil they feared roamed among them.
Consumption had no boundaries, and even in this little Connecticut hamlet, it was a major fear of all families in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries. Once one member of the family caught the illness, the rest would embrace, with terror, the thought that they, too, could soon become infected. Many New England families lost numerous members to consumption. The afflicted wasted away as if something was feeding off their very life force, and surely, something was. Many turned to folklore and superstition in an attempt to remedy their plight. Scores of families began digging up their loved ones for fear that one of them may be returning in the dark of night to take them all to the grave.
The graves of Henry B., Lucy H., Lemuel B. and Elisha H. Ray in the Jewett City Cemetery. Lemuel and Elisha both died of consumption. One was thought to be a spectral ghoul preying on the family until the suspect was reportedly disinterred and burned in 1854 to save another brother from the same fate.
Consumption struck the Ray family of Jewett City. Lemuel Billings Ray died from the dreaded illness on March 9, 1845, at the age of twenty-four. His father, Henry B. Ray, followed him to the grave on July 3, 1849. Soon after, twenty-six-year-old Elisha Ray fell victim to the wasting disease and died on February 1, 1851. It was not until Henry Nelson Ray became ill in 1854 that the family began to wonder if something supernatural was at work. The family was desperate to end the chain of sickness that had taken several of them already. They came to the conclusion that their plight was the work of a vampire among them, but who?
According to Mysteries and Legends: New England by Diana Ross McCain, the bodies of all three deceased were disinterred, and Elisha, having been the most recent to die, was the only one who had not yet completely gone back to the earth. In fact, according to McCain’s research, as reported in 1854 by one of the newspapers, the heart of Elisha contained “fresh blood,” thus securing the family’s bel
ief that a vampire was at work. They burned Elisha, coffin and all, before becoming wholly satisfied that they had performed a successful remedy.
The Norwich Evening Courier also covered the story of the exhumation, calling it a “strange and almost incredible superstition.” The account goes on to state that the family’s determination to exhume the bodies and burn them was “because the dead were supposed to feed upon the living, and that so long as the dead body in the grave remained in a state of decomposition, either wholly or in part, the surviving members of the family must continue to furnish the sustenance on which the dead body fed.” There is no mention of vampirism at this point, only an unbelievable superstition, which, in the words of the article, “tasks human credulity.” It also mentions that the scene, as described to reporters, was repulsive to say the least. The article finishes with the following conclusion: “We seem to be transported back to the darkest age of unreasoning ignorance and blind superstition instead of living in the 19th century, and in a state calling itself enlightened and Christian.”
I procured a copy of the article and can confirm that it does seem to capture the attention of the reader in a most macabre and shocking manner.
According to the timeline of mortality etched into Henry’s stone, the cure failed, as Henry N. Ray died in 1854 at the age of thirty-four. Three of Henry’s children and his wife also succumbed to mysterious deaths that left people wondering if a vampire was still at work within the Ray family.
The rest of the Ray family was buried behind the post office in the center of town before being relocated to the Jewett City Cemetery in the early twentieth century
The marker of Henry N. Ray, who died in 1854, despite the exorcism performed to save his life.
I contacted Griswold historian Mary Deveau, who knew of the two brothers being disinterred but not the father. She was aware of the Norwich Evening Courier newspaper clipping dating back to May 20, 1854, which told of the account that took place on May 8, 1854. She told me what she knew based on the historical data she had collected in regard to the incident. According to the Courier article, the two brothers were dug up, but no mention was made of the father being disinterred. Having dug up both brothers, the family then burned both bodies on the spot in hopes of relieving poor Henry N. of the evil that was taking him slowly to the grave. The Courier mentions that the father was Horace Ray, not Henry, but it does offer a disclaimer in the beginning that the story was related to a reporter who may not have been on the scene.
Which article is more accurate? Does it really matter? The details may vary a little, but the date and end result pretty much coincide with each other. Mary had the copy of the Norwich article but was not aware of the other report. She has a lot of files on the vampires of Griswold, yet there is so much more to be found out about the incidents, especially considering the coverage of the exorcism became so widespread.
Arlene and I ventured out to the Jewett City Cemetery to find the graves of the Ray family. Upon entering the large iron gates, the Ray monument sits to the left, just inside the cemetery. We found Henry N. and a few other names, but no Elisha. We even found a Lemuel, but the date of death was long after the alleged incident of suspected vampirism. There had to be other graves elsewhere, so we began our search. Arlene took one side, and I took the other. After a short time, we came across the other Ray family in the center rows of the cemetery, to the left of the gates, looking out. The four graves of Henry B., Lucy H., Lemuel B. and Elisha H. were certainly in vogue with the times; yet the other Ray plot was much more modern, having a large monument stone with smaller, plain granite stones surrounding the main obelisk.
Although the death of Henry N. occurred in the same era as the others, the stones were, in contrast, more modern. My first thoughts were that perhaps Henry Nelson Ray was a relative and that the newer plot was that of a family related in some way to Ray. Was he a cousin or a nephew? According to Dr. Bell’s research, some of the Ray family graves were moved in the early 1900s. Maybe a surviving member of Henry Nelson’s family wanted to expand the plot for future generations and had more modern stones put in. This would explain why the rest of the graves were not moved. A grandson of Henry N. might have moved his immediate family but not his grandfather and uncles. This is interesting speculation when trying to figure out why the graves are so different in nature yet the dates of death so close to one another. The newer stones are twentieth century without a doubt, and the other Ray stones are typical nineteenth-century tall slabs.
I again called Mary Deveau of the Griswold Historical Society, and she was more than happy to share her knowledge of the Ray family with me. Henry N. Ray and his family were first buried in the cemetery behind the Baptist church on Main Street, next to the post office. The church did not own the cemetery; rather, it was privately owned by a member of the church. The Ray family, being part of the congregation, was buried there. For some reason or another, their bodies were moved to the Jewett City Cemetery. Deveau does not know what happened to the original stones but commented on the fact that she was curious about what became of them after the family was relocated.
We speculated back and forth about why they would have been exhumed and relocated. She could not find the exact date the graves were relocated but was sure it was in the early twentieth century. We both agreed that a family member had to have had the graves moved in order to be closer to the original Ray plot. Henry was the third son of Henry Baker and Lucy Ray. Henry N. had four children who died during their infancy, some at childbirth and some very shortly after. One of his daughters, Nettie, lived to the age of twenty-six before dying of consumption. My theory was at least half right: a family member had the graves relocated. On the other hand, Henry was the brother of Elisha and Lemuel and not a relative otherwise. There was another brother of Henry—Charles, who is also buried in the newer plot. It may have been Henry Nelson’s wife, Clarinda, who had the family moved, as she died in 1902, or maybe it was Charles and his wife, who were buried in the newer plot much later. The newest stones belong to Charles Ray, born in 1842, and his wife, Sarah, born in 1846, who both passed away in the same year, 1927.
About this time, a tuberculosis patient named Herman Brehman believed the disease was curable. He retreated to a healthier mountain climate and came back cured. This prompted him to establish the first tuberculosis sanatorium, where patients got the help they needed in a climate that was effective in curing the illness. It worked to some degree, but a cure was still being sought.
1874
SOUTH KINGSTOWN EXETER, RHODE ISLAND
It is written that in 1874, William Rose of Peace Dale exhumed the body of his recently deceased daughter in order to avoid any possible threat that she might come back and feed on the rest of the family. Records state that he burned her heart in order to thwart such an inevitable future calamity. This elucidates the fact that Mr. Rose was more than aware of the practice of exorcising those who had died of consumption in order to bring to a halt a case of vampirism. Instead of waiting for other family members to begin showing signs of the wasting disease, he took it upon himself to nip the situation in the bud before it became an epidemic.
The short commentary that has appeared in magazines, newspapers and books also states that the graves of William and his wife, Mary, reside in the Rose Hill Cemetery just off Route 138, but the daughter’s grave is nowhere to be found. When I first read the small quip in the October 1992 Old Rhode Island magazine, I became intrigued and intent on finding the missing grave.
Ruth Ellen Rose (or Juliet Rose) by all accounts died in 1874 at the age of fifteen. In typical Rhode Island fashion, the young woman was exhumed, and her heart and vitals were cut out and burned because her family feared that she was a vampire. What was different about this case was that, according to the article, William Rose performed the exhumation to avoid the possibility of vampirism—not to stop an existing case. But why can’t we find the Ruth Ellen’s grave? That was the first question Arlene and I pondered upon
reading this narrative. Now it was time to try to piece together a mystery that seems to have baffled every other researcher of the New England vampire.
I studied a map of South Kingstown, particularly the area of Mooresfield Road where the Rose lot, SK-010, is located. There were several cemeteries in the area that we would visit looking for any clue of Ruth Ellen/Juliet Rose. Of course, SK-010 would be our first stop.
The Rose lot sits fifteen feet north of Mooresfield Road on Rose Hill Road at telephone pole #4418. The 125- by 140-foot burial ground contains 122 burials, with 122 inscriptions dating from 1851 to 1972. That certainly falls into the time frame of the daughter’s interment. There is a special note in the cemetery records by James Arnold, dating back to 1880, stating that the burial ground was a large, beautiful yard with a cut stone wall containing many metal rings mounted on the front wall for tying up horses. The graves of William C. and Mary A. sat prominently at the entrance of the cemetery, just inside the gates. Arlene and I closely inspected the yard for signs of missing, fallen or broken stones. There was no sign that a stone with the name Juliet or Ruth Ellen ever existed. There is a hand-painted sign in front of the wall that reads, “Please Stop Stealing Stones!” But it does not make clear whether it was the gravestones or the beautifully cut wall stones that were victims of theft. We figured that while we were in the area, we might as well check out the other small cemeteries as well. One by one, Arlene and I began to pick out and visit each historical cemetery in the area. There were several within a few miles of one another. Some were in obscure places, while others were in backyards, at the edge of driveways or in the middle of the woods.
SK-011 was where Juliet Rose had supposedly been interred. The cemetery is located fifty feet west of Broad Rock Road in South Kingstown. Some stories say that Juliet was the “vampire” that plagued the family. Juliet Carter Rose was born in 1814 and died in 1898. She lived to be eighty-four years of age, leaving Ruth Ellen as the only other possibility.
A History of Vampires in New England Page 9
