Moon Mausoleum
An online magazine about the paranormal, haunted and macabre. We collect the ghost stories from all around the world as well as review horror and gothic media.
Seeking new land and a new life, the Salladay family went to Ohio, but brought a silent killer with them: Consumption. Falling into odd superstitions, they believed the only way to stop the disease was to stop the undead from rising from their graves.
Seeking new land and a new life, the Salladay family went to Ohio, but brought a silent killer with them: Consumption. Falling into odd superstitions, they believed the only way to stop the disease was to stop the undead from rising from their graves.
America’s early history is peppered with strange, somber superstitions—rituals born of fear, desperation, and a primal struggle against diseases no one understood. Among these unsettling tales is one from Scioto County, Ohio, in the dead of winter, 1816–17: the tragic and bizarre case of the Salladay family, whose hereditary affliction with tuberculosis led to a desperate, grisly ritual in the hopes of stopping death in its tracks.
Read More: Check out all ghost stories from USA
It may not have earned the infamy of New England’s vampire panics, but this haunting episode stands as a potent reminder that superstition knew no borders in early America.
The Salladays were Swiss immigrants, part of the wave of European settlers moving westward after the opening of the French Grant, a parcel of land along the Ohio River. It was granted by Congress in March, 1795, to a number of French families who lost their lands at Gallipolis by invalid titles. The river bottoms are well adapted to corn, and on a great part of the hill land small grain and grass could be produced and tempted settlers inland. The name Sallaway is an americanized version of the Swiss German Salathe
Not long after settling in Scioto County, the family fell prey to the disease that had terrified communities for centuries: tuberculosis, then called consumption. It was a cruel, wasting illness, slowly claiming victims with bouts of coughing, fever, and a wasting pallor that convinced many it was the work of a malevolent force rather than mere contagion.
After the head of the family and the eldest son succumbed, and others began showing signs of sickness, panic overtook reason.
In the depths of the winter of 1816–1817, the Salladay family, surrounded by fearful neighbors, turned to a folk remedy that would be familiar to followers of New England’s vampire lore: the belief that a dead family member might be preying on the living from the grave.
The “cure” was grim. They resolved to exhume one of the deceased, burn certain organs in a ceremonial fire, and do so before the eyes of the surviving family members — an attempt to sever the sinister connection between corpse and kin.
The victim of this desperate rite was Samuel Salladay (1789-1815), one of the earlier victims of consumption who had died during the fall of 1815. His body was disinterred by Major Amos Wheeler of Wheelersburg, an official of standing in the community, lending the macabre event a disturbing legitimacy. A large crowd from the surrounding countryside gathered to witness the ritual, drawn by a mixture of morbid curiosity and communal dread.
Samuel’s entrails were removed and burned upon a fire specially prepared for the rite. The hope was that the ritual would end the spread of disease within the family and grant a reprieve to those still living.
Unsurprisingly, this desperate act proved futile. Consumption was a highly contagious disease, passed through airborne bacteria, not through supernatural means or malevolent corpses. Despite the burning of Samuel’s remains, the remaining Salladays continued to fall ill, one by one.
In the end, only George Salladay survived the affliction, while the rest of the family perished — victims of both disease and superstition.
Today, no marker or monument commemorates the Salladay ritual, and their story survives largely through scattered historical accounts. Perhaps this was the only vampiric exhumation that happened in Ohio. Although not strictly a New England place, Ohio carried a lot of the earlier settlers by the way people moved west from the east shore, and some of the state used to be a part of Connecticut.
Samuel Salladay still rests in the Salladay Cemetery in Sand Hill in Scioto County, together with all of his relatives who were never cured from their life-draining disease.
New England vampire panic – Wikipedia
https://www.findagrave.com/memorial/197357043/samuel-salladay
