To answer the question of how such ideas and the subsequent “cures” spread throughout New England, we must turn to the forefront of the early forms of media. Taverns were often stage stops where travelers could tell news and stories of the places they had just left. There were also circulars that were printed and hung on the doors with the latest news of the day. Taverns were also used for town meetings, as post offices and, in some cases, for Sunday sermons. They were the television, radio and telephone of early New England. It was mandated that there be a tavern about every five miles along the roads. People traveled mostly on foot, sometimes on horseback and rarely by carriage. One can easily see why a public house every five miles would be a necessity in the harsh New England winters, when the snow piled up along the primitive roadways, making travel of any kind a dangerously arduous task.
Country stores, much like the taverns, though not as common, were also a central point for the media of the times. News took time to move from town to town and often became embellished in its various retellings. Stories of gunslingers, war heroes, farming mishaps and successes, fishing adventures, wild Indians, ghosts and, yes, vampires circulated. These stories were told in front of warm fires; the blustery winter bite outside could hardly compete with the chill of a well-versed narrator recounting what would become legend. The fireplace and, later, the potbellied stove became a central prop in these gatherings, where the townsfolk would pass on tales of their fathers or tidbits they heard from a passing traveler. The country store was media center, post office, gathering place and a place where liquor was sold in gills to be quaffed on the premises. Home remedies and herbs were abundant in the absence of proper medical physicians, and it is certain that much gossip and rumors of home remedies for the multitude of often-fatal illnesses were passed on to many visitors at these country stores. Customs, traditions, superstitions, social exchanges and lifestyles are among the various elements that played a chief role in this strange chapter in New England’s history.
To this day, gathering place customs still thrive. My parents have owned a fishing tackle store for many years, and one of the charms of the family business is the people who come in and sit for a while, telling stories of fishing, politics, people—whatever the topic of the day. It is not uncommon to see a few chairs arranged in a semicircle in front of the rear counter of the store where regulars had gathered to enjoy a tale or two.
Country stores and taverns may be scant in modern society, but the storyteller and gossiper remains prolific in small family businesses, where tradition and stories get passed down from one to another and, in some cases, become legend.
The term “vampire” is first mentioned in writings toward the end of the nineteenth century and into the beginning of the twentieth century. As far as we know, the families and friends who exhumed loved ones for signs of vampirism never mentioned that they were looking for a vampire. They were not exactly sure how to label the demon that was preying on them, but they had come to the conclusion that consumption was the catalyst that made a spirit rise from the grave in search of the blood and strength of the living. Joseph Citro states in his book, Passing Strange, that the word “vampire” and its definition first appeared in the Oxford English Dictionary in 1734. It made its way to America when the Hartford Courant printed the definition in 1765.
James Earl Clauson made an interesting point in his 1937 publication, These Plantations. As Clauson stated in the chapter “Vampirism in Rhode Island,” “Rhode Island was too liberal to interfere with ladies who wanted to sell themselves to the devil and become witches but were thumbs up on vampires.” This is a very interesting statement when considering that the founding of Rhode Island came about through want of religious freedom—a very liberal, if not downright insolent, way of thinking for the Puritan times of Roger Williams. There is one interesting case, as told by Sidney Rider in his now famous Book Notes from February 4, 1888, in which an old woman, a Mrs. Ann Higgins, was supposedly hanged as a witch in 1655 in Rhode Island for having more “wit” than her neighbors. Rider goes on to report that the incident took place in the colony of Massachusetts, not Rhode Island, and the name was Hibbins, not Higgins. She was accused of witchcraft and acquitted before a jury but was taken before the general court and condemned there. Rider’s research into the matter concludes that there was no persecution for witchcraft in Rhode Island as there was in its neighboring state of Massachusetts. He backs up his findings by citing references from both of the states’ history books, maintaining that the incident was indeed part of the Massachusetts colony in 1655 but was mistakenly credited to Rhode Island.
My research also concluded that Ann Hibbins, wife of William Hibbins, an influential merchant and one-time chief magistrate, was hanged for witchcraft in the Boston Common in 1656. Although originally acquitted by a jury, the popular voice of the people forced the magistrate to take over and condemn her, because, as stated before, she was a bit outspoken and more intelligent than her neighbors. Apparently, Clauson was fairly accurate in his quote about the acceptance of “witches” in Rhode Island. If all religions were to be accepted, then surely paganism—or some form of it—had to be welcomed as well. One must also take into consideration the knowledge and intelligence that must be present in order for the various religions to coexist with tolerance within a social structure.
It seems that the Ocean State promoted liberal thought well into the next few centuries, taking exception from this doctrine only for the creature of the night. Even a state born from liberal philosophy had no room for the thought that vampires might roam its landscape freely. Puritan minister Cotton Mather referred to Rhode Island as the “sewer of New England” because of its liberal tendencies in welcoming different religions. The nineteenth century was a period in which many religions began to flourish, and even churches of different denominations sat side by side along town greens. These widespread faiths meant diverse cultures. It would seem inevitable that the commingling of these people during social events would bring about the weaving together of many traditions. In his book Food for the Dead, Dr. Michael Bell noted that the New England vampire cases took place outside the boundaries of Puritan influence.
In the case of the Rhode Island vampire, there seemed to be certain criteria that did not prevail within the usual signs of vampirism found throughout New England. In all other states, the vampire could be a man or woman of any age; in Rhode Island, all vampires were women between the ages of fifteen and twenty-two. This is not so strange when one considers that the female vampire exists in many countries. India has the Raksasha; Scotland, the glaistig; and Ireland, leanan sidhe, who takes the form of a beautiful woman no man can resist. Many poems, stories and drawings have made the leanan sidhe one of the most famous creatures of the night in British Isles folklore. The Gwrach-y-rhybin of Wales attacks individuals as they sleep, especially children. Les dames blanches (“white ladies”) of France were also known to appear as beautiful women to their prey. They are said to stem from the lady of the oak, Druantia, queen of the druids. All of these creatures reside in cultures whose people immigrated to New England long ago. Did immigrants take their Old World superstitions with them, tucked in the back of their minds?
In the October 1992 issue of Old Rhode Island, Donald Boisvert wrote an article on vampires and other Rhode Island legends. In the article, he quotes former Boston College history professor Dr. Raymond T. McNally, who refers to the Ocean State as the “Transylvania of America” due to the similarities in the rural South County hamlets and those of Transylvania, where McNally, according to Boisvert, spent years researching Dracula and the history of vampirism. South County was where most of the reported cases of vampirism in New England took place. Subsequent writers have claimed that there were more exhumations in that region than what has been penned. One theory Boisvert puts forth to explain why the southern part of the state saw so much more activity than the northern areas was the fact that the Narragansett Times, a predominantly South County–based paper,
consistently printed front-page articles on seances held in Boston. During the latter part of the nineteenth century, the Spiritualist movement was at its peak, and such beliefs as talking to the dead were both common and popular. If one could openly communicate with the other side, who could say what other ethereal or supernatural possibilities could be tapped?
There is also the fact that record keeping was not as accurate. Neither were all of the stories that were handed down as research for the subject. Reporters from the city papers rode out to these little rural hamlets in search of a story and got bits and pieces from the locals. Some knew of a legend, and others just speculated about what may have happened. Then there is the fact that two or three legends often became one through interviews with the villagers. This is a dilemma that has kept modern researchers digging through historical records, looking to shed light on the mysteries surrounding the New England vampire. In some cases, we find that details are vague and there is not much solid fact to back them up, while others are well narrated in both pen and the spoken word. These cases remain a lasting testament to the history of the New England vampire.
The following article appeared in the American Anthropologist in January 1896. It was written by George Stetson and is considered by many to be one of the most important documents on the New England vampire.
THE ANIMISTIC VAMPIRE IN NEW ENGLAND
George R. Stetson
American Anthropologist 9, no. 1 (January 1896)
The belief in the vampire and the whole family of demons has its origin in the animism, spiritism, or personification of the barbarian, who, unable to distinguish the objective from the subjective, ascribes good and evil influences and all natural phenomena to good and evil spirits.
Mr. Conway remarks of this vampire belief that “it is, perhaps, the most formidable survival of demonic superstition now existing in the world.”
Under the names of vampire, were-wolf, man-wolf, night-mare, night-demon—in the Illyrian tongue oupires, or leeches; in modern Greek broucolaques, and in our common tongue ghosts, each country having its own peculiar designation—the superstitious of the ancient and modern world, of Chaldea and Babylon, Persia, Egypt, and Syria, of Illyria, Poland, Turkey, Servia, Germany, England, Central Africa, New England, and the islands of the Malay and Polynesian archipelagoes, designate the spirits which leave the tomb, generally in the night, to torment the living.
The character, purpose, and manner of the vampire manifestations depend, like its designation, upon environment and the plane of culture.
All primitive peoples have believed in the existence of good and evil spirits holding a middle place between men and gods. Calmet lays down in most explicit terms, as he was bound to do by the canons of his church, the doctrine of angels and demons as a matter of dogmatic theology.
The early Christians were possessed, or obsessed, by demons, and the so-called demoniacal possession of idiots, lunatics, and hysterical persons is still common in Japan, China, India, and Africa, and instances are noted in Western Europe, all yielding to the methods of Christian and pagan exorcists as practiced in New Testament times.
The Hebrew synonym of demon was serpent; the Greek, diabolus, a calumniator, or impure spirit. The Rabbins were divided in opinion, some believing they were entirely spiritual, others that they were corporeal, capable of generation and subject to death.
As before suggested, it was the general belief that the vampire is a spirit which leaves its dead body in the grave to visit and torment the living.
The modern Greeks are persuaded that the bodies of the excommunicated do not putrefy in their tombs, but appear in the night as in the day, and that to encounter them is dangerous.
Instances are cited by Calmet, in Christian antiquity, of excommunicated persons visibly arising from their tombs and leaving the churches when the deacon commanded the excommunicated and those who did not partake of the communion to retire. The same writer states that “it was an opinion widely circulated in Germany that certain dead ate in their tombs and devoured all they could find around them, including their own flesh, accompanied by a certain piercing shriek and a sound of munching and groaning.”
A German author has thought it worth while to write a work entitled “ De Masticatione mortuorum in tumulis.” In many parts of England a person who is’ ill is’ said to be “wisht” or “overlooked.” The superstition of the “evil eye” originated and exists in the same degree of culture; the evil eye “which kills snakes, scares wolves, hatches ostrich eggs, and breeds leprosy.” The Polynesians believed that the vampires were the departed souls, which quitted the grave, and grave idols, to creep by night into the houses and devour the heart and entrails of the sleepers, who afterward died.1
The Karems tell of the Kephu, which devours the souls of men who die. The mintira of the Malay peninsula have their water demon, who sucks blood from men’s toes and thumbs.
“The first theory of the vampire superstitions,” remarks Tyler,2 “is that the soul of the living man, often a sorcerer, leaves its proper body asleep and goes forth, perhaps in visible form of a straw or a fluff of down, slips through the keyhole, and attacks a living victim. Some say these Mauri come by night to men, sit upon their breasts, and suck their blood, while others think children alone are attacked, while to men they are nightmares.
“The second theory is that the soul of a dead man goes out from its buried body and sucks the blood of living men; the victim becomes thin, languid, bloodless, and, falling into a rapid decline, dies.”
The belief in the Obi of Jamaica and the Vaudoux or Vodun of the West African coast, Jamaica and Haiti is essentially the same as that of the vampire, and its worship and superstitions, which in Africa include child-murder, still survive in these parts, as well as in several districts among the negro population of our southern states. The negro laid under the ban of the Obi or who is vaudouxed or, in the vernacular, “hoodooed,” slowly pines to death.
In New England the vampire superstition is unknown by its proper name. It is there believed that consumption is not a physical but a spiritual disease, obsession, or visitation; that as long as the body of a dead consumptive relative has blood in its heart it is proof that an occult influence steals from it for death and is at work draining the blood of the living into the heart of the dead and causing his rapid decline.
It is a common belief in primitive races of low culture that disease is caused by the revengeful spirits of man or other animals—notably among the tribes of North American Indians as well as of African negroes.
Russian superstition supposes nine sisters who plague mankind with fever. They lie chained up in caverns, and when let loose pounce upon man without pity.3
As in the financial and political, the psychologic world has its periods of exultation and depression, of confidence and alarm. In the eighteenth century a vampire panic beginning in Servia and Hungary spread thence into northern and western Europe, acquiring its new life and impetus from the horrors attending the prevalence of the plague and other distressing epidemics in an age of great public moral depravity and illiteracy. Calmet, a learned Benedictine monk and abbé of Sénones, seized this opportunity to write a popular treatise on the vampire, which in a short time passed through many editions. It was my good fortune not long since to find in the Boston Athenaeum library an original copy of his work. Its title page reads as follows: “Traité sur les apparitions des esprits et sur les vampires ou les revenans de Hongrie, de Moravie, etc. Par le R.P Dom Augustine Calmet, abbé de Sénones. Nouvelle edition, revisée, corrigie, at augmentie par l’auteur, avec une lettre de Mons le Marquis Maffei, sur le magie. A Paris; Chez debure l’aine quay des Augustins a l’image S. Paul. MDCCLI. Avec approb et priv du roi.”
Calmet was born in Lorraine, near Commercy, in 1672, and his chief works were a commentary and history of the Bible. He died as the abbé de Sénones, in the department of the Vosges.
This curious treatise has evidently proved a mine of wealth to all modern en
cyclopedists and demonologists. It impresses one as the work of a man whose mental convictions do not entirely conform to the traditions and dogmas of his church, and his style at times appears somewhat apologetic. Calmet declares his belief to be that the vampires of Europe and the broucolaques of Greece are the excommunicated which the grave rejects. They are the dead of a longer or shorter time who leave their tombs to torment the living, sucking their blood and announcing their appearance by rattling of doors and windows. The name vampire, or d’oupires, signifies in the Slavonic tongue a bloodsucker. He formulates the three theories then existing as to the cause of these appearances:
First: That the persons were buried alive and naturally leave their tombs.
Second: That they are dead, but that by God’s permission or particular command they return to their bodies for a time, as when they are exhumed their bodies are found entire, the blood red and fluid, and their members soft and pliable.
Third: That it is the devil who makes these apparitions appear and by their means causes all the evil done to men and animals.
In some places the spectre appears as in the flesh, walks, talks, infests villages, ill uses both men and beasts, sucks the blood of their near relations, makes them ill, and finally causes their death.
The late Monsieur de Vassimont, counselor of the chamber of the courts of Bar, was informed by public report in Monravia that it was common enough in that country to see men who had died some time before “present themselves at a party and sit down to table with persons of their acquaintance without saying a word and nodding to one of the party, the one indicated would infallibly die some days after.”4
About 1735 on the frontier of Hungary a dead person appeared after ten years’ burial and caused the death of his father. In 1730 in Turkish Servia it was believed that those who had been passive vampires during life became active after death; in Russia, that the vampire does not stop his unwelcome visits at a single member of a family, but extends his visits to the last member, which is the Rhode Island belief.
A History of Vampires in New England Page 3