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.
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 Vampire Grave in Ohio: The Salladay Cemetery in Scioto County, Ohio, where Samuel Salladay rests alongside his relatives.Source
A Family Cursed by Consumption
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.
Consumption: Before it had a scientific explanation, TB was a horrifying, slow-moving plague. It wasted the body. Victims grew pale and thin, their cheeks sunken, eyes glassy. They coughed blood. They wheezed and gasped and sometimes appeared to grow stronger just before they died, as if something unnatural were prolonging their suffering. In this time and place, a superstition that it was the work of a vampire sprung out.
After the head of the family and the eldest son succumbed, and others began showing signs of sickness, panic overtook reason.
A Desperate and Macabre Cure
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.
The Folly of Superstition
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.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
For a long time, there have been tales about the Dearg Due, the bloodthirsty vampire of Ireland. But how true is the story about the female vampire though, and has it really been told since ancient times?
Hidden for centuries in the shadowed fields of County Waterford is the chilling legend of the Dearg Due, a ghostly figure born of beauty betrayed and a thirst for vengeance that would refuse to die. But the more you peel away from the legend, the more questions you are left with.
Read More: Check out all ghost stories from Ireland
The name Dearg Due is said to mean red bloodsucker or the red thirst according to those who tell about the legend. The entity has been described as a female vampiric demon who seduces men before draining and sucking their blood. And together with The Legend of Ireland’s Vampire King Abhartach and the Haunted Giant’s Grave, it’s one of Ireland’s most well known vampire legends.
The Legend of the Blood Thirsty Dearg Due
Once upon a time, a young woman known for her beauty lived in Ireland. When and where is a bit hazy though. Some say this happened closer to two thousand years ago in pre-christian times. It is said it happened around the area of what is now Waterford City in South-East Ireland. The ancient Celtic name for Waterford was “Cuan na Graí” or “The Harbor of the Sun.” This is the oldest city in Ireland, founded by vikings in the 9th century.
The County Waterford is based on the historic Gaelic territory of the Déise settled in the 4th and 8th century. But who lived there before that as we can see by the many megalithic tombs and ogham stones in the county? Around two thousand years ago when the story is said to have happened?
Waterford, Ireland
She fell in love with a humble farm labourer and dreamed of a simple life by his side. But her father, greedy and cold, bartered her to a cruel chieftain in exchange for land and wealth and she had no say or choice in the matter.
At her wedding, she was dressed in red and gold and it was a huge feast. Her marriage, though, was a tragedy and her husband was both cruel and abusive. Some say that she was locked away in her chambers or a tower. Ensnared in misery, she starved herself in despair to escape her cruel fate. Slowly, she just wasted away.
She was buried near what has been known as Strongbow’s Tree in Waterford, and said to only be visited by her true love who prayed for her return to him. Her husband married a new woman at once, and her father didn’t think about her much in his newfound riches. and in death her grief mutated into something darker.
When the first anniversary of her burial arrived, she rose from the grave, no longer the gentle maiden, but a crimson spectre who returned to the house of her father and the bed of her husband, touching their lips and stealing breath from their bodies as though it were blood.
From that hour onwards she haunted the land, drifting through night mists, luring young men with her sorrow-soft beauty only to drain them utterly of life. The stories differ in how long she roamed the land. Some say ten months to a year. Some say she’s still there, lurking in the dark.
The only safeguard, locals say, was to place heavy stones upon her grave or leave salt at the threshold to keep her from clawing her way out every night to hunt down men for her vengeance. In some versions of the legend, they used her former lover as bait who helped wrap her in blessed twigs to make her rest in her grave designed for her to stay.
The History Behind the Legend
Now, a powerful story that has made its rounds claiming to be ancient roots. But how old is this story, really? Where is Strongbow’s tree, said to be the place she is buried beneath, supposedly in the ruins of an old churchyard.
Strongbow landed in Ireland on 23 August 1170 and attacked Waterford with a force of some two hundred knights and one thousand other troops. There were rumours that Strongbow’s body was secretly taken from Dublin and re-interred in 1177 to the place where he married the Irish princess Aoife. This is said to have been where the Christ Church Cathedral, Waterford was built, and a tree was planted in his memory.
Strongbow: This was actually a nickname to Richard de Clare (c. 1130[1] – 20 April 1176), the second Earl of Pembroke as well as his father’s nickname. He is known for the Normann invasion of Ireland and is said to have died there after an infection.
Now, this version would mean that the tree was planted long after the story was said to have happened. Another version though, links the two legends better. This claims that Strongbow and Aoife were married on August 25 on the shore of the River Suir beneath a great oak tree that came to be known as “Strongbow’s Oak.” It would make sense that ruins of an old churchyard existed here, but why would a pre-christian woman be buried there?
Now, which oak tree could Strongbow’s Oak be? An interesting point is the Reginald’s Tower in Waterford, built by the Norman invaders. It is said that this was the actual place where they got married. The site is sometimes called Dundory (an Irish word which means “fort of oak”), and hence the tower is occasionally called the Dundory Tower. It is also known as the Ring Tower. It begs the question. Was it a stone tower they ended up building over her grave?
The Haunted Tower: As an article in the Tipperary Free Press from the 9th of April 1851 says, ‘some of those wiseacres who congregate about the tower, verily believe that it must be the old Dane himself come to visit his old castellated mansion …’ Did the haunted vampire legends actually start and evolve here?
That is of course, that it actually was a woman the locals feared was a vampire and buried under stones. But did she ever exist? It is interesting that this so-called ancient legend is first found in writing in 1924 when Dudley Wright wrote in his book Vampires and Vampirism:
At Waterford, in Ireland, there is a little graveyard under a ruined church near Strongbow’s Tower. Legend has it that underneath the ground at this spot there lies a beautiful female vampire still ready to kill those she can lure thither by her beauty.
However, when Montague Summers mentioned this vampire in his book The Vampire in Europe from 1928, he also mentioned that this was a legend the locals had never heard about and he spelled her name, dearg-due. Fast forwarding to Anthony Master’s book, The Natural History of the Vampire, he writes:
In old Ireland there was a traditionally-motivated vampire named the Dearg-due, which means the red blood-sucker. The only way to keep the Dearg-due in its grave was to build a cairn of stones over the top. Another legend claims that there is a female vampire lurking near Waterford. The actual spot is under a ruined church near Strongbow’s tree, and it is to this sinister place that the vampire lures, by her fatal beauty, men with good red blood running in the veins.
The name had suddenly changed and spelled differently. The Strongbow’s Tower was changed into Strongbow’s Tree. But the written foundation for the legend started to be repeated more rapidly. For a full walkthrough of the legend, check out the blog dedicated to debunk theories about the Irish language and history.
So was the legend about the vampiric woman a made up story after the popularity from Dracula published in 1897 and the Irish connection to Bram Stoker? Or was it perhaps something older, something bloodthirsty only held back by a pile of stones?
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
One night, the Southern Necropolis Cemetery in Glasgow is filled with children. In their mind they are not playing, they are hunting the horrible vampire that is said to have taken the life of more than one child. The absolute mania of the Gorbals Vampire ended up passing several new laws.
In the heart of Glasgow, Scotland, beneath the looming industrial smokestacks and crowded tenement blocks of the Gorbals district, a strange and unnerving legend took root in the mid-20th century — one that would see dozens of children descend on a graveyard armed with makeshift weapons, hunting for a vampire with iron teeth.
This bizarre incident remains one of Britain’s most famous examples of mass hysteria, though some still whisper that something truly sinister once prowled the crumbling headstones of Southern Necropolis.
Southern Necropolis: Stone gatehouse of Glasgow’s Southern Necropolis cemetery. // Source
The Night of the Vampire Hunt
The legend began one gray, mist-cloaked evening in September 1954 in one of the city’s poorest neighbourhoods, with little to no open spaces for the children to play except from the old cemetery. Rumors had spread like wildfire among the children of the Gorbals district that a seven-foot-tall vampire with glinting iron teeth was stalking the Southern Necropolis cemetery, having allegedly abducted and devoured two young boys.
Within hours, the graveyard was teeming with local children — some as young as five, others in their early teens — armed with sticks, knives, pieces of wood, and stones. They combed the Victorian graveyard in groups, peering behind headstones, ducking into mausoleums, and calling out to each other in hushed voices.
In the back of the graveyard, steelworks were throwing up flames and a sulphur filled smoke covered the sky. It was all giving the scene, casting shadows the children were chasing.
Reports say some adults were also drawn to the scene, though most dismissed the affair as childish nonsense. Yet, the sheer number of armed, determined children — and their insistence that a vampire lurked among the graves — unsettled more than a few bystanders.
Authorities Intervene
As night fell, the cemetery watchman and local police arrived, attempting to disperse the crowds. One of them was PC Alex Deeprose and he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The children refused to leave, claiming they wouldn’t abandon the graveyard until the vampire was caught or killed.
The Gorbals Vampire was supposedly a seven-foot-tall monster with long metal fangs. They claimed the vampire had captured and eaten two boys and was living in the graveyard.
It took several hours and repeated police patrols to finally send the would-be vampire hunters home. The event made national headlines the following day, alarming both the public and local officials. The next evening, the children was back to hunting down the vampire. Theories abound as to what had caused such a mass outbreak of panic and belief in a blood-drinking monster. It even reached parliament.
Blame on American Horror Comics
Authorities were quick to blame American horror comics, such as Tales from the Crypt and Vault of Horror, for filling young minds with terrifying fantasies. In the aftermath of the incident, parents, teachers, and church leaders joined forces to push for the Children and Young Persons (Harmful Publications) Act 1955, which banned the sale of certain horror comics to minors in the UK.
According to the children, it had all started in the playground, and spread from school to school before blowing up like a full blown panic. As Ronnie Sanderson, who was eight and one of the hunters said:
‘The word was there was a vampire and everyone was going to head out there after school. At three o’clock, the school emptied and everyone made a beeline for it. We sat there for ages on the wall, waiting and waiting. I wouldn’t go in because it was a bit scary for me.’
Although the base of the story was that children had been taken by the vampire, there was no records of any missing or murdered children around the time of the incident. A 1953 issue of Dark Mysteries had included a story called The Vampire with the Iron Teeth. Could this be where the hysteria came from? Or was it in fact something much older? There’s no evidence that any of the Glasgow vampire hunters had ever glimpsed an American comic.
A Deeper, Older Fear
Some folklorists have suggested the tale may have deeper roots in Scottish folklore. Tales of iron-toothed witches and ogres appear in old Scottish legends, often as bogeymen figures used to frighten children into good behavior. One such character is the “Jenny wi’ the Iron Teeth,” an old Glasgow nursery bogeywoman said to lurk in dark corners and snatch naughty children. There was also the Iron Man, an ogre that was out for children.
It’s possible that these older, orally transmitted stories resurfaced in a new form amid the poverty and anxiety of post-war Glasgow, where violent deaths, disappearances, and urban legends weren’t uncommon. According to the legend of Jenny, she was hunting for children not wanting to go to bed around Glasgow Green in the early 1800s.
Jenny wi’ the Airn Teeth
Come an tak’ the bairn (child)
Tak’ him to your den
Where the bowgie bides (bogie lives)
But first put baith (both) your big teeth
In his wee plump sides
Was the Gorbals Vampire Ever Real?
No vampire was ever found, and no missing children were officially reported to match the tale. Whether a sinister figure once stalked those fog-drenched graveyards, or whether it was simply the product of fear, folklore, and fertile imaginations remains a mystery.
Corbals Vampire Today: A mural of the Gorbals Vampire by local teenage artist Ella Bryson and Art Pistol street artists, Ejek, in an archway on St Luke’s Place near the Citizens’ Theatre. //Source
But to this day, Glaswegians still recall the night in 1954 when an army of fearless children armed themselves to confront the unknown, determined to drive a bloodthirsty monster from their streets. The Act and laws passed back then are still a thing today.
And at night, beneath the crumbling stones of the Southern Necropolis, some claim you can still feel the weight of ancient legends… and hear the echoes of small, determined footsteps in the dark.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
In one of the oldest inhabited castle in Scotland, Glamis Castle is said to be filled to the brick with ghost stories and legends. According to the stories though, there is seemingly something more monstrous and more blood thirsty said to be sealed inside of the bricked up secret chambers, waiting to get out.
Standing in stoic grandeur amidst the rolling Angus countryside, Glamis Castle has long held a reputation for secrets, shadows, and spectral figures. Known as the childhood home of Queen Elizabeth, the Queen Mother, Glamis or Glammis Castle, in Forfarshire, the seat of Lord Strathmore, is steeped in royal history and ancient nobility — but its corridors also echo with stories far darker than those found in any history book.
Of its many chilling legends, two vampire tales rise above the rest, hinting at unnatural bloodlines and eternal imprisonment behind stone walls. These stories, passed down for generations, have become the cornerstone of Glamis Castle’s macabre mythology.
The Vampire Child: The Sinister Family Secret
At the heart of Glamis Castle’s vampire lore is the enduring whisper of a “vampire child” — a secret so terrible, it was said to be known only to the laird, his heir, and one trusted family retainer in each generation. According to the legend, there is a secret chamber in the castle where the vampire child was placed. There is an old story that guests staying at Glamis once hung towels from the windows of every room in a bid to find the bricked-up suite of the monster. When they looked at it from outside, several windows were apparently towel-less. Though this is more likely due to the owners removing them in order so that the guests would not find the rooms, according to several relatives of the family.
The lords of Glamis. who, according to legend, were drinking and gambling, losing their family fortune. By the mid-17th century, the castle was in ruins. It was inherited by Patrick Lyons, who rebuilt the castle and rehabilitated the family, for which he was made the earl of Strathmore.
According to lore, in the early l800s the first son of the 11th earl of Strathmore was born a hideously deformed, egg-shaped monster with no neck, tiny arms and legs, and a large, hairy torso. According to legend, the child was once born into the Bowes-Lyon family with monstrous characteristics: deformed, unnatural, and blood-hungry. This child, believed to be a vampire or some other unholy being, was hidden away in a sealed chamber within the castle — a room known only to a few and never spoken of publicly.
In fact, there was a son born, Thomas Lyon-Bowes, the first child of Thomas Lyon-Bowes, Lord Glamis, and his wife Charlotte Lyon-Bowes née Grimstead. He is however recorded born and died in October 21, 1821. The stories about the child being “a monster” allegedly started when the unnamed midwife retold it in the local village.
The castle was given to the second son, unlawfully, and the creature, after so many years away became mad. It reportedly died in 1921 or 1941.
Some versions of the tale go further, suggesting that the “secret of Glamis” is that in every generation, one such child is born — cursed or blessed, depending on the point of view — with vampiric traits. Another legend tells that the monster is in Loch Calder near the castle. These children, it is said, never die, but are locked away, immortal and unseen, sustained through blood or other unknowable means. Over time, the corridors of the castle have become riddled with rumors of bricked-up rooms, hollow walls, and windows that can be seen from the outside but do not exist within.
Searches for the supposed secret chamber have never revealed definitive answers — only more questions. But for those thinking that concealing a child inside a room seems to harsh about this family, just think about the tragic case of Nerissa and Katherine Bowes-Lyon, cousins of the queen, listed dead for years, but turned out to live in Earlswood Hospital for mentally disabled people in 1941, classified as: “imbeciles”.
The Blood-Sucking Woman: The Servant Entombed Alive
A separate legend, no less disturbing, tells the story of a serving woman who was caught engaging in a grotesque act of vampirism. According to lore dating back several centuries, the woman was found leaning over the corpse of a fellow servant, her mouth stained red, drinking the blood from the lifeless body.
Horrified, the castle’s occupants did not attempt to destroy her in the traditional methods associated with vampires — no stake, no fire, no silver. Instead, they condemned her to a crueler fate: she was bricked up alive within a hidden room, left to die in solitude, possibly in the very act of waiting for another victim.
Some stories say she remains alive to this day, an immortal vampire trapped inside the walls, forever hungry and vengeful. Those who work at Glamis today have reported unexplained cold spots, sounds of scratching, and even soft crying from behind thick stone walls — perhaps signs of the entombed servant still begging for release.
The Secret Chamber
This part of a secret chamber being haunted is told by many and could have sprung out from an older legend. The origins of this story go back hundreds of years, to an age when the Lyon and Lindsay clan were engaged in a bitter, ongoing feud.
On a cold snowy night, there was a group of Lindsays on the run from other clans and they went to Glamis to seek refuge. Some say it was the Ogilvie who was trying to escape the clutches of their enemies, the Lindsays.
The Earl promised them his protection, but trapped them in a room where he looked inside. Some say that the Earl was working with the Lindsays and caught them and imprisoned them. He never let them out of the 16 feet thick room, and for years, there were banging from the walls, screams and noises coming from them. Even after they were dead and long gone fro hundreds of years, you could still hear their cries through the castle.
The sitting Earl decided to put a stop to the haunting and went into a room where no one went. He opened the door with a key and he was frozen with terror. He closed the door, bricked it up and never spoke about what he saw ever again.
A Castle of Secrets and Shadows
Glamis Castle is no stranger to the paranormal. In addition to its vampire legends, it’s also home to numerous ghost stories — from the Grey Lady thought to haunt the chapel, to the Earl Beardie, cursed to play cards with the Devil for eternity. Yet none are as unsettling — or as persistently whispered about — as the vampire tales that seem woven into the very walls of the building.
Visitors often speak of a strange feeling of being watched, even in empty rooms. Some claim that doors open and close on their own, or that footsteps echo down halls long after the castle has closed for the night. Could one of those footsteps belong to the vampire child, still pacing in darkness? Or is it the blood-sucking servant, endlessly circling her unseen prison?
The castle may gleam proudly by daylight, but as night falls, the questions it refuses to answer begin to stir. And somewhere, in one of its sealed rooms, the undead may still be waiting.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
Centuries after the witch panic in Salem, New England was gripped by another entity – vampires! Thought to crawl out from their graves at night and back to their remaining family to feed and consume the life of them. This has later been known as the New England Vampire Panic The only way to stop them was to dig them up and set them on fire.
In the quiet, frostbitten corners of 19th-century New England—amid snow-capped fields and rickety clapboard farmhouses—a curious darkness was spreading. But it wasn’t witches this time. It wasn’t demons, or ghosts, or devils hiding in the woods. No, what haunted the good, God-fearing folk of Rhode Island, Connecticut, and Vermont was something far stranger.
Vampires.
Not the aristocratic, silk-robed kind with Eastern European accents. Not the seductive, night-stalking vampires of Hollywood imagination. These were homegrown, farm-dwelling, dirt-under-their-nails revenants. According to local belief, they didn’t sip fine blood from crystal goblets. They clawed their way out of graves and siphoned the life from their living kin—not with fangs, but with supernatural persistence.
This wasn’t just a gothic fever dream. It was real. It had a body count, graves empty after their families dug them up and burnt their remains to cure themselves of the curse of the undead. After it swept across the east coast, it was later called the New England Vampire Panic.
Old Graveyards: A serene graveyard in New Hampshire reflects the eerie history of vampire folklore in early New England that was gripped by fear during the New England Vampire Panic.
A Disease by Any Other Name
To understand how New England came to believe in vampires, we need to talk about tuberculosis—known in the 1800s as consumption.
Before it had a scientific explanation, TB was a horrifying, slow-moving plague. It wasted the body and if you first got infected, there was a two in ten chance of surviving it as there was no cure. Victims grew pale and thin, their cheeks sunken, eyes glassy. They coughed blood. They wheezed and gasped and sometimes appeared to grow stronger just before they died, as if something unnatural were prolonging their suffering.
The White Death: The plague of tuberculosis is a disease that has killed more people than any other microbial pathogen and mummies dating back to the 8000 BCE. Over the years, many attempts to cure it through curious means show desperation. Fresh air, bloodletting, elephant urine, eating wolf livers and human breast milk has from ancient times been tried.
It was contagious, of course, though no one knew why or how. When one family member died, others often followed. Households dropped like dominos. And so the imagination of rural folk—grounded in a stew of folklore, fear, and grim necessity—did what it does best: It reached for reasons.
They began to believe that the dead were not staying dead.
Vampire Lore: In addition to consumption being rooted in a vampiric infliction, you also had rabies that gave strange symptoms and rare genetic disorders like porphyria that gave a sensitivity to sunlight and reddish teeth. Although in the New England Vampire Panic, it was mainly tuberculosis.
The New England Outback
Exactly why New England? After all, tuberculosis was a worldwide problem, why did the vampiric panic happen here, 200 years after the witch craze in Salem not too far from where they would begin to exhume their loved one from their graves?
There are several factors of how this particular lore and New England Vampire Panic started. One has to do with numbers. After years of civil war, the number of people living in Exeter, Rhode Island for instance, had dwindled to a few thousand, scattered across small rural communities. By some, this was later known as Vampire Capital of America and had a high count of exhumations like the case of Mercy Brown.
Contrary to popular belief about being puritanical, the rural New Englanders in the 1800s were not overly religious and 10 percent belonged to church in these parts. Missionaries were sent to these parts to get them back to God’s words as they saw these rural communities living in cultural isolation from the rest of the world..
The belief of the uneducated farmers have taken hold for many in later years. But was it really so? It seems like many places like Manchester, Vermont where Rachel Burton was exhumed and burned on the town square was founded by educated and not really the most superstitious and religious men. This seems to have changed after the Revolutionary War when it was then described as a place of drinking gambling, and superstitions like vampirism.
They were however superstitious and let their beliefs fester side by side with the industrial revolution and modernisation of the society in the cities not far from their farming communities. Also as a small community, there were a lot of relations between the exhumations. Like the case of the exhumation of Nancy Young having relation through marriage to Sarah Tillinghast who was also exhumed the same way. They were neighbors, although the farms were few and far between, family and friends, and like the sickness of consumption, so did the fear of the undead spread and infect through generations and places.
The Curious Case of Mercy Brown
The most infamous case of the New England Vampire Panic took place in 1892, in the icy hills of Exeter, Rhode Island. The Brown family had been ravaged by tuberculosis. First, mother Mary Eliza died. Then daughter Mary Olive. Then son Edwin became ill and left for Colorado in a desperate bid for recovery.
And then Mercy Lena Brown, a 19-year-old girl with dark hair and a shy smile, fell sick and died on January 17, 1892.
Mercy Brown: A historical portrait of Mercy Brown, the young woman at the center of the New England Vampire Panic.
The townsfolk were suspicious. Too many Browns were dying. Someone, or something, must be behind it. They began to murmur. Maybe one of the dead was still feeding. Edwin, now barely hanging on, had to be saved.
So in March—when the ground thawed enough to dig—they exhumed the bodies.
Mary Eliza and Mary Olive had decomposed as expected. But Mercy? Her body, kept in a crypt during the harsh winter, was remarkably intact. Her cheeks had color. There was blood in her heart, clear signs she was the vampire.
The heart and liver were removed and burned. The ashes were mixed into a tonic and given to Edwin to drink. (A sentence that should never be uttered casually, but here we are.)
Did it work? Tragically, no. Edwin died two months later. But Mercy’s story endured, becoming the poster child of the New England Vampire Panic—a real-life tale so haunting that even Bram Stoker, author of Dracula, reportedly took notes.
Mercy wasn’t the only one. According to folklorist Michael Bell, there was around 80 of these types of exhumations. From Maine to Massachusetts to Rhode Island, similar rituals were performed. Perhaps as far west as Minnesota. Not always with a name. Not always with fire. But the goal was the same: stop the dead from killing the living.
The Vampire Next Door in the New England Vampire Panic
These were not “vampires” as we think of them today, but corpses with unfinished business, still feeding on their living relatives from beyond the grave. They drained vitality, not with teeth, but through a metaphysical link. The only cure? Dig up the body, examine it, and if necessary, destroy the vessel.
Some communities in Maine and Plymouth, Massachusetts, opted to simply flip the exhumed vampire facedown in the grave and leave it at that. But in places like Connecticut, Vermont and especially in Rhode Island, they took it one step further.
If the corpse was found unusually fresh, with blood in the heart or organs (a not-uncommon occurrence in cold New England graves and those buried in the winter or put in freezing crypts waiting for the ground to thaw), it was declared the source of the curse. The heart would be removed and burned to ash, sometimes the liver, kidney or other organs were also taken. Often, the ritual was done in secret, other times it was done publicly, sometimes on a blacksmith’s anvil or just on a nearby rock in the cemetery. In many cultures it was believed that the fire in a blacksmith’s anvil was a divine gift and that they had the power to banish evil through their metal and flames.
There were also some cases where vines and sprouts growing from the coffins and bodies were seen as signs of vampiric activity, like we see with the exhumation of Annie Dennett. They believed that the vine or root growing at or by the grave reached the next coffin, another family member would be sick and die. This part of the legend is a bit more difficult to trace back to a particular superstition shared with other places.
As the ritual demanded, their heart and liver were burned on a nearby rock and the ashes were mixed with a tonic and given to the sick relatives to drink. Sometimes it was also said to be smoked or the fumes from the burning were inhaled by those attending.
The Mystery of J.B: Connecticut State Archaeologist, Nick Bellantoni, was excavating the cemetery and found something no one could have expected. Among the graves, one burial in particular captured attention: a coffin marked only with brass tacks, spelling the initials “J.B. 55”. The remains inside had been subject to a post-mortem ritual that hinted unmistakably at vampire panic practices during the New England Vampire Panic. // Photo courtesy of Nicholas Bellantoni
After the ritual, it seems like the rest of the body was reburied. In Woodstock, Vermont, a father exhumed the bodies of his daughters and burned them to save his last surviving child. In Griswold, Connecticut, archaeologists discovered 29 burials in the 1990s—one with the skull and thigh bones rearranged in a skull-and-crossbones pattern. The jaw had been hacked apart. The coffin was inscribed with “JB55,” believed to stand for “John Barber,” a middle-aged man who likely died of TB. The mutilation? A post-mortem attempt to stop the spread of vampirism.
Although it is today known as the New England Vampire Panic, the people at the time didn’t use this terminology as the term was not commonly used in the community. But when the newspapers and outsiders started to look at the phenomenon, they classified it as vampire lore because of the similarities about the lore in eastern Europe dating back to the tenth century.
There are many versions about where the vampire lore that struck the New England coast around this time. According to residents of Exeter, Rhode Island, they claimed they got the exhumations tradition from the Native Americans that certainly had their own vampire lore. But what about the European connection?
Vampire Lore in the World: Although New England cultivated its own vampire belief, it certainly wasn’t the first. Across the ocean in Europe, the fear of the vampires in eastern Europe took hold in the 1700 and worked its way west. In Europe the wooden stake was said to be the thing banishing the vampire. In America, they burned their organs showing signs of vampirism.This illustration comes from an 1851 book by Paul Feval titles “Les Tribunaux secrets” and was created by René de Moraine.
In this time, there was also a Vampire panic in Europe, especially eastern and central Europe. German and Slavic immigrants are said to have brought their lore and superstitions with them in the 18th century. There were Hessian mercenaries that served in the Revolutionary War and Palatine Germans colonized Pennsylvania. There were also Germans and different eastern Europeans traveling through the area as healers, bringing with them the ideas of the undead and exhumation as a cure for the terrible diseases the townsfolk didn’t yet understand.
The Science Arrives too Late for Many
The New England Vampire Panic began to wane by the early 20th century, as germ theory and modern medicine began to explain disease in ways people could trust. TB was finally understood as a bacterial infection, not a curse.
In the meantime, there were as many as 80 exhumed graves we know of, but there were probably many more. For example, in 1862, reports of vampirism swept the community of Saco, Maine so strongly that almost every deceased resident was dug up and reburied, allegedly. Every corpse was, apparently, a suspect.
But the New England Vampire Panic hadn’t been entirely irrational. These were desperate people watching their families die horribly. They didn’t have the benefit of science. They had folk remedies, tradition, and fear—and so they reached for the most ancient tool humans possess: storytelling.
And in the dark corners of New England, those stories had fangs.
List of Vampire Cases of the New England Vampire Panic
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
Sitting on your chest, crushing you in your sleep, The Alp of Germanic Folklore was said to be a vampiric entity after people’s life force. But where did this creature come from?
In the dark hours between dusk and dawn, when restless dreams twist and turn through the minds of sleepers, a sinister being from old German folklore is said to descend upon its victims. Known as the Alp, this malevolent supernatural creature doesn’t haunt abandoned castles or misty graveyards — instead, it invades the fragile realm of sleep itself, leaving terror and suffocation in its wake.
Read more: Check out all ghost stories from Germany
A figure of nightmares dating back to medieval Europe, the Alp exists in the shadowy intersection between spirit, demon, and vampire. Sometimes a seductive human, a butterfly, a pig in a magical hat, it has long served as a terrifying explanation for the most intimate of fears: what comes for us when we are most vulnerable, in our beds, under the cover of night.
The Alp And Mare: An Alp is typically male, while the mara and mart appear to be more feminine versions of the same creature. The Alp, in many cases, is considered a demon, but there have been some instances in which the Alp is created from the spirits of recently dead relatives, more akin to a spirit or ghost.
A Creature of the Night
But what was an Alp? There are so many variations of this legend, but mostly it’s a male entity, often the spirit of a recently deceased man. It is also seen in connection to the Germanic Elf, or the otherworldly or underworld creatures.
It could also be the spirit of a woman who died as a sinner and pregnant. It was also believed that she could create the Alp if she ate something unclean or something that had dwarf spit on it. She could also create an Alp if she did inappropriate gestures during pregnancy or frightened a dog or horse during it.
Unlike the towering monsters of other myths, the Alp is an insidious tormentor, striking unseen and unfelt until its victim is gripped by an unnatural terror in the midst of sleep. It’s traditionally described as a malevolent spirit or goblin-like being, often invisible, though sometimes appearing in grotesque, human-like forms or even taking on the shape of a cat, dog, snake, or butterfly.
Shapeshifter: The Alp may change into a cat, pig, dog, snake or a small white butterfly and can fly like a bird and ride a horse. The Alp always wears a hat, known as a Tarnkappe which is simply a hat or veil that gives the Alp magic powers and the ability to turn invisible while worn. The hat is visible no matter what shape the Alp takes. An Alp who has lost this hat will offer a great reward for its safe return. The Alp also possesses an “evil eye” whose gaze will inflict illness and misfortune. Removing or damaging this eye also removes the Alp’s malicious intentions.
The Alp’s most feared ability, however, is its power to induce terrifying sleep paralysis — what folklore once called a “nightmare” (the term originally referring not to a bad dream, but to the demon itself).
Victims would wake to find themselves unable to move or cry out, an invisible weight pressing down on their chest as a suffocating dread filled the room. They might hear the Alp’s breath, feel its claw-like fingers at their throat, or see shadowy shapes moving just beyond the edge of reason.
An Appetite for Blood and Breath
The Alp was believed to feed on both the life essence and the blood of its victims, not unlike a vampire. It was said to drink the milk of nursing women and, disturbingly, sometimes the blood from their nipples. Livestock were not safe either — cows found mysteriously drained of milk were often blamed on the Alp’s nocturnal visits.
Another chilling feature of the Alp legend is its association with dreams themselves. The creature was thought to control a sleeper’s dreams, turning them dark and violent, manipulating the victim’s mind as it fed upon their fear.
Nightmare: A haunting depiction of the Alp, a malevolent creature from German folklore, tormenting a sleeping woman in her bed. the German word Alpdruck (literally ‘elf-oppression’) means ‘nightmare’. There is also evidence associating elves with illness, specifically epilepsy. In the early modern period, elves are described in Northern Germany as doing the evil bidding of witches; Martin Luther believed his mother to have been afflicted in this way.
Its favorite targets were said to be those in states of emotional turmoil, the ill, and the vulnerable. It would even sometimes fixate on specific individuals, tormenting them night after night, sometimes also sexually, like a Succubus and Incubus.
Defending Against the Alp
German folklore offered a variety of protective measures against the Alp’s predations. One common method involved placing a broomstick under the pillow, a shoe at the side of the bed with the toes pointing towards the door, or an iron horseshoe hung nearby — symbols meant to confuse or repel the spirit.
It was also believed that calling the Alp by its name could banish it, though given its invisibility and secretive nature, discovering the true identity of an Alp was often impossible.
From Dwarf to Demon: In Teutonic myth and folklore, Alp were considered friendly elf-like beings which lived in the mountains, but eventually turned more negative and malevolent. They were likened more to the moss people or mountain dwelling dwarfs until becoming closer to demonic.
Another curious belief held that binding one’s hair before sleep or keeping the bedroom door slightly ajar would prevent the creature from entering, as the Alp was a creature of rules and compulsions, easily deterred by simple tricks or obstacles.
Echoes in the Modern World
Many modern scholars and folklorists view tales of the Alp as early cultural interpretations of sleep paralysis, a phenomenon still experienced worldwide today. The suffocating weight, inability to move, hallucinated figures, and overwhelming terror described in Alp encounters mirror accounts of sleep paralysis episodes in astonishing detail.
Yet even with the benefit of modern science, the age-old fear persists. There’s something uniquely unsettling about the idea of being helpless within your own home, your own bed — and perhaps that’s why the legend of the Alp continues to cast a long, dark shadow in the collective memory of Europe.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
A cold day in February, the village people in Manchester, Vermont gathered in the square to stop a vampire thought to suck the life out of a young woman. By burying her up and burning her remains, they thought they could fight back the curse of the undead.
New England, with its brooding forests, craggy hills, and centuries-old graveyards, has long been fertile ground for ghost stories, witch trials, and spectral folklore. But perhaps one of its grimmest and most unsettling chapters comes from a sleepy little village in southern Vermont — Manchester, 1793 — where townsfolk turned on one of their own dead in a desperate bid to halt a creeping, invisible killer: tuberculosis.
This is the eerie tale of Rachel Burton (née Harris), a woman whose body was unearthed, mutilated, and burned in front of a crowd of hundreds, believed to be a vampire draining the life of her husband’s new wife from beyond the grave.
The Death of Rachel Harris
In the late 18th century, Captain Isaac Burton, a respected deacon in the local Congregational church, buried his first wife, Rachel Harris, after she succumbed to consumption (the old term for tuberculosis). Consumption was a slow, wasting disease — it could pick off entire families one by one in a cruel, unrelenting sweep. To early New Englanders, it made sense to suspect some supernatural culprit.
We have the story of her, told by Judge John S. Pettibone (1786-1872). Already from this source, a lot of time had passed. She was a young woman, around 20 and was buried around 1792 and described by the judge as “a fine, healthy, beautiful girl” before her death. The ritual was described in his History of Manchester manuscript from around 1860 under a section titled Tale of the Demon Vampire.
Within a year of Rachel’s passing, Captain Burton remarried, taking Hulda Powell as his second wife. But it wasn’t long before Hulda, too, began to wither away. She suffered the tell-tale signs: a persistent cough, fatigue, night sweats, and alarming weight loss. The similarity of her symptoms to those of Rachel raised superstitious suspicions. In an era without germ theory, people didn’t understand how tuberculosis spread — but they did know when a deathly pattern felt unnatural.
And in New England folklore, there was a chilling explanation for such tragedies: the dead could feed on the living.
The Vampire Cure for Consumption
According to local belief, if a deceased family member was suspected of preying on their kin, there was only one way to stop them. You had to exhume the corpse and destroy the offending organ — typically the heart or liver — sometimes feeding the ashes to the afflicted, or simply burning them in the hopes of severing the connection between dead and living.
Sources vary about when the exhumation took place. Some say it was around three years after Rachel died. Some say that it was In February of 1793, after Hulda’s health worsened, the townsfolk and Burton’s family settled on this morbid course of action. Rachel Harris’s body would be exhumed, and whatever malevolent hold she had over Hulda would be broken in a public ritual.
Accounts suggest that between 500 and 1,000 people gathered at the graveyard in Manchester to witness the ritual — an astonishing turnout for a remote colonial village, but a testament to the grip of fear and superstition on the community.
It seems like many places like Manchester, Vermont where Rachel Burton was exhumed and burned on the town square was founded by educated and not really the most superstitious and religious men. This seems to have changed after the Revolutionary War when it was then described as a place of drinking gambling, and superstitions like vampirism.
Leading the ritual was Timothy Mead, while his relative, Jacob Mead, fired up his blacksmith’s forge nearby. The chilling operation was carried out in broad daylight, with Deacon Burton, a religious leader, presiding over the spectacle.
Rachel’s heart, liver, and lungs were removed, though contemporary accounts do not detail whether there was anything particularly ‘unusual’ about the condition of her remains — though it hardly mattered. The ritual was the important part.
The organs were then placed onto Jacob Mead’s blacksmith’s forge and burned to ash in front of the assembled crowd. As the account from 1860 says: “It was the month of February and good sleighing”. The belief was that by burning the vital organs, they would destroy the vampire’s connection to the living and halt the spread of the disease.
Often in these rituals, the sick would ingest the ashes of the burnt parts, often mixed into a tonic for them to drink. It’s not explicitly said, but it’s likely this also happened here. But for what purpose? Hulda Burton died in September of 1793, just months after the gruesome exhumation. The disease had already claimed her, and no amount of superstitious ceremony could stop it.
But the ritual’s failure did little to dissuade similar practices throughout New England. The vampire panic would continue for decades, culminating in famous cases like Mercy Brown’s exhumation in 1892 — a remarkably similar incident a century later, in the same region.
An Eerie Reminder
Today, there’s little to mark the site where Rachel Harris Burton’s grave was disturbed in Factory Point Cemetery in Manchester. Time and weather have worn away many of the old headstones, and the blacksmith’s forge long since cooled.
In the cemetery, the Vermont Folklife Center put a sign and marker in 2022, commemorating the story of Rachel Harris Burton. Her grave is noticeable because of the distinctive stone that was carved by Zerubbabel Collins, which was a very famous family of carvers.
But if you find yourself in Manchester, Vermont, wandering one of its ancient cemeteries on a fog-laden evening, spare a thought for poor Rachel — accused in death, desecrated in superstition, and forever part of America’s eerie legacy of vampire panics.
After all, history’s most unsettling tales aren’t always buried as deep as we think.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
In the midst of border disputes between the English and the Scottish as well as the looming threat of the plague, a new monster started lurking in the dark street. The Berwick Vampire is one of the oldest vampire stories from the UK.
Berwick was besieged on more occasions than any other town in the world with the exception of Jerusalem, changing hands between England and Scotland 13 times and as a cultural identity not in unison about who they are between the two. It also has more than one vampire story, one of them from a time before the vampire term was even a thing.
In the shadow of ancient battlements and along the fog-laden streets of Berwick-upon-Tweed, lingers the sinister tale of the Berwick Vampire. Though far less famous than its Eastern European counterparts, this chilling account has earned its place in folklore as one of Britain’s earliest recorded vampiric encounters.
A Town Haunted by Blood and Death
The story takes us back to the medieval period, when Berwick was a frequent casualty of border wars between England and Scotland in the 12th century. Life was brutal and death was a constant companion. Among the many tales of plague, battle, and witchcraft that circulated during these turbulent centuries, the legend of a bloodthirsty revenant rose to prominence.
As the story goes, a local man of ill-repute — sometimes described as a wealthy landowner or merchant, died suddenly, his life claimed by an unspecified illness or misdeed. Sometimes it’s said that everyone believed he was an upstanding citizen, and that his misdeed and corruption was only found out after he had died.
This is why they denied him to be buried on consecrated land after he died of the plague. Death did not lay him to rest. Within days of his burial, villagers began whispering of a pale figure stalking the streets after nightfall. Livestock were found drained of blood, and children complained of night terrors and unexplained bruises upon waking.
The Vampire’s Reign of Terror
It wasn’t long before these sightings took a darker turn. Townsfolk claimed to encounter the man’s corpse-like figure lurking in graveyards and near the town walls. Those who crossed his path reported feeling an intense, unnatural cold and being overcome by a sense of impending doom. It is also said that two children went missing, and they all believed it had to be him.
Revenant: The term vampire or the undead was not used in medieval time, but several of the stories about the Revenant, Sanguisa or the bloodsuckers of folklore bear resemblance to what the modern world would classify as a vampire legend. In folklore, a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living and was in medieval times used interchangeably with ghosts. They come from various cultures like the Celtic and Norse, some reminding more about a classic ghost story, some more of a vampire legend. Although today a mixed version of the western and eastern European mythologies of the undead.
As he was running down the street, a pack of howling dogs followed him, keeping all the villagers awake. He shouted out: “Until my body is burnt, you folk of Berwick shall have no peace!”
The Vampire Hunt
The villagers gathered and decided to fight the vampire after several days had forced them inside after dark. Ten young farmers were selected to dig up his body, hack it up to pieces and burn it.
They did so, but it wasn’t the end of their misery. After burning him to ash, the plague returned and took half the population of Berwick. When they buried the dead, the villagers insisted that they could hear the sound of the vampire followed by his pack of hounds.
Howling Hounds: Often in William Newburghs tales of the undead, there is a pack of dogs following as the dog motif has been connected with death for ages in European mythology. The black dog is a supernatural, spectral, or demonic hellhound. It is usually unnaturally large with glowing red or yellow eyes, is often connected with the Devil, and is sometimes an omen of death.
The Legacy of the Berwick Vampire
The Berwick legend also highlights how vampire hysteria in the medieval and early modern periods often paralleled outbreaks of disease and unexplained deaths, as communities struggled to explain misfortune with supernatural causes as well as border disputes. Something that many of the vampire legends we have from William Newburgh, like the story of the Berwick Vampire, shares.
William of Newburgh: Many of the tales about the British vampires comes from the 12th century historian, William of Newburgh. William’s major work was Historia rerum Anglicarum or Historia de rebus anglicis (“History of English Affairs”), a history of England from 1066 to 1198, written in Latin. It is written in an engaging fashion and still readable to this day, containing many fascinating stories and glimpses into 12th-century life. He is a major source for stories of medieval revenants, animated corpses that returned from their graves, with close parallels to vampire beliefs.
Today, Berwick-upon-Tweed is a picturesque town known for its Elizabethan walls and coastal charm. Yet for those who listen closely, especially when mist rolls in from the North Sea, old stories persist. Locals still recount the ancient tale of the Berwick Vampire — a reminder of a time when the veil between life and death felt perilously thin, and the dead were not always content to stay buried.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
In the midst of a consumption epidemic ravaging whole families on the coast of New England, the Ray family took drastic measures to save the eldest son from illness. The Jewett City Vampires were believed to be behind the consumption running in the family’s veins. Could burying up the bodies and burning them keep them from feeding on the living?
Buried in the annals of Connecticut history is a lesser-known, chilling chapter of American vampire panic — the unsettling case of the Jewett City Vampires.
This grim and fascinating story unfolded in the mid-19th century in Jewett City, a quiet mill town in Griswold, Connecticut. And like many such tales, it was rooted not in mythic monsters, but in the all-too-real terror of tuberculosis, known back then by a far more ominous name: consumption.
The Ray Family: A Family Struck by Death
The story centers around the Ray family, whose seemingly cursed lineage became the focus of the town’s fear and superstition. The Rays were a large farming family that were greatly affected by the tuberculosis epidemic ravaging the coast of New England. Between 1845 and 1854, several members of the Ray family died in rapid succession from tuberculosis. In an age before germ theory, the illness seemed almost supernatural — wasting away the victim’s body, leaving them pale, weak, and sunken-eyed, sometimes for years before death.
And in those uncertain days, when science faltered, folklore eagerly filled the void.
The neighbors of Jewett City began to murmur. Surely this wasn’t natural. The idea took hold that perhaps the dead of the Ray family were not resting peacefully in their graves, but rather rising at night to drain the life from their surviving kin.
The Exhumation of The Jewett City Vampires
The first in the family to die of consumption was 24 year old Lemuel Ray in 1845. Then his father, Henry B. Ray followed in 1851 and his brother, 26 year old Elisha Ray in 1853.
The eldest son in the family, Henry Ray got the disease the year after and panic started to set into the community. Surely there was something supernatural at play?
In 1854, driven by grief and superstition, the surviving members of the Ray family took a drastic step. According to contemporary accounts, they exhumed the bodies of Lemuel and Elisha from the Jewett City Cemetery on the 8th of May. The remaining and extended Ray family together with their friends and neighbors, gathered in the cemetery to perform the ritual.
At the time, it was believed that if a body was too well-preserved — particularly the heart or vital organs — it meant the deceased was still spiritually active and preying upon the living. In such cases, the suspected vampire’s heart would be cut out and ritually burned to sever the unnatural bond.
Records from the era confirm that at least one body was exhumed and burned on a nearby hill. The hope was that this morbid ritual would stop the deaths within the family and finally lay the restless spirit to peace.
They burned the heart of the corpses in the graveyard and most likely mixed the ashes of it into a mixture for Henry to drink or ingest in some way. This was believed to protect and cure him from the vampiric feeding they believed his brother did. Or was it enough to burn their bodies to keep them rising from their graves at night to feed on their remaining family? The sources of this detail remain inconclusive.
But what happened to Henry? Some say that they don’t know and that Henry most likely lived on and that the ritual cured him. Perhaps this is because his tombstone is not right next to his brothers in the cemetery that people believe it. Other sources claim that he died the same year, only 34 years old. In addition to his demise, his own children and wife also followed shortly. Because, a little further behind his brothers and family, his grave can be seen.
Echoes of a Broader Vampire Panic
What makes the Jewett City Vampire Panic especially significant is that it wasn’t a lone case of morbid superstition — it was part of a broader phenomenon that plagued New England throughout the 18th and 19th centuries.
Between 1790 and 1890, multiple cases of so-called vampire exhumations were documented in Rhode Island, Vermont, Massachusetts, and Connecticut. All were responses to consumption outbreaks that ravaged families and small towns, where fear was a tangible, everyday companion.
The famous Mercy Brown case in 1892 was the last well-documented vampire exhumation in America, but the events in Jewett City nearly forty years earlier reflect just how widespread and desperate these beliefs were.
Modern Discovery and Legacy of Vampire Graves in Connecticut
The graves of the Ray family remained largely undisturbed until 1990, when nearby, another unsettling discovery was made — the now-famous Griswold “J.B.” vampire grave, with remains arranged in a classic anti-vampire configuration: skull and thigh bones crossed beneath it.
Though unconnected officially to the Ray family, the proximity of these two cases in Griswold illustrates just how deep the vampire panic had gripped rural New England communities. Had the Rays heard about the rituals the Walton family had done decades before? Was the contagious disease actually fear?
Today, the Jewett City Cemetery still stands, an unassuming plot of land in a quiet town. Although the original graves from the cemetery were moved in recent years because of a building project. The graves of the Ray family look like they are still buried, six feet under.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
Coming day after day to torment his wife, the Buckinghamshire Vampire terrorized an entire town for days. And he wasn’t stopped until the Bishop intervened.
Hidden among the villages and misty woodlands of Buckinghamshire in south east England, a county better known for its pastoral landscapes and historic estates, lies a strange and unsettling tale of a vampire said to have once terrorized the area.
Unlike the famous aristocratic bloodsuckers of Gothic fiction, this legend, whispered among locals for generations, speaks of a malevolent revenant risen from its grave to prey upon the living.
A Folkloric Fragment from Rural England
This story is also one of the vampiric tales we have from the historian William of Newburgh who wrote down many of the monsters and ghost stories from medieval England and Scotland. Allegedly he got the story from Stephen de Swafeld, the archdeacon of the diocese of Buckinghamshire from 1194-1202.
William of Newburgh: Many of the tales about the British vampires comes from the 12th century historian, William of Newburgh. William’s major work was Historia rerum Anglicarum or Historia de rebus anglicis (“History of English Affairs”), a history of England from 1066 to 1198, written in Latin. It is written in an engaging fashion and still readable to this day, containing many fascinating stories and glimpses into 12th-century life. He is a major source for stories of medieval revenants, animated corpses that returned from their graves, with close parallels to vampire beliefs.
A well respected man of Buckinghamshire died unexpectedly in 1192 and was buried by his family and his grieving widow on the eve of Ascension Day. He must have been a rich man, as he was buried in a tomb. Buckinghamshire had acquired a lot of wealth during the Anglo-Saxons, soon to be taken by William the Conqueror.
The next night the widow was awakened at night when something laid next to her in her bed. When she opened her eyes, she saw it was her dead husband laying next to her, staring at her with dead eyes. It was said he got on top of her, pressing her down into the bed.
It is unsure and not specified what this actually means. Did he paralyze her like a night terror thing, did he force himself on her?
When the sun rose, the man went back into his tomb. But he would return the next night. Some say he did the same for a second time. But for the third, the widow was prepared. She had invited her friends and family to watch over her, in case her dead husband came back.
He crept through her window, but when he was heading for her bed, the walking dead was attacked by her protectors who chased him off with loud noises and into the fields where the animals were grassing. Some say that he went to attack his brothers instead who were living in the same town.
Revenant: The term vampire or the undead was not used in medieval time, but several of the stories about the Revenant, Sanguisa or the bloodsuckers of folklore bear resemblance to what the modern world would classify as a vampire legend. In folklore, a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living and was in medieval times used interchangeably with ghosts. They come from various cultures like the Celtic and Norse, some reminding more about a classic ghost story, some more of a vampire legend. Although today a mixed version of the western and eastern European mythologies of the undead.
For a long time, the vampire kept appearing in the town, attacking sleeping people as well as resting animals. Soon, every household was up all night, guarding to defend themselves from the vampire stalking them.
It got so bad he started appearing in broad daylight, seen by big groups of people in the streets and in the fields. Often he was seen with a pack of hounds following him, something the undead in William’s writing did, as well as other British ghost and vampire stories.
Howling Hounds: Often in William Newburghs tales of the undead, there is a pack of dogs following as the dog motif has been connected with death for ages in European mythology. The black dog is a supernatural, spectral, or demonic hellhound. It is usually unnaturally large with glowing red or yellow eyes, is often connected with the Devil, and is sometimes an omen of death.
Blessings from the Bishop
The story of the undead reached the Bishop and they decided to do an investigation. This has also been said to be the Archdeacon Stephen. He had written to St. Hugh, the bishop of Lincoln, asking for advice. It was said that they had to open his tomb and burn him to ashes, but the archdeacon didn’t want to and asked if there was another way.
They decided to open his tomb and exhumed his body. When the tomb was opened the body was found to have not decomposed. The bishop had written an absolution that they placed on the man’s chest before the tomb was sealed up again.
It is said that this helped and the blessing from the bishop made so the revenant remained in his grave and he never bothered anyone ever again. .
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
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.
Mirroring the famous Dance Macabre mural that used to hang on the walls near the Predigerkirche in Basel, it is said that plague victims were buried in the patch of grass outside of the church. Legend has it that when the city needs it, the dead will rise from it in a macabre procession, as a warning of an oncoming disaster.
Where history whispers and shadows reign, the Rathaus in Bern is said to be haunted by a myriad of ghosts. Who are the ghosts lingering in the City Hall after dark?
The two adjoining cloisters by Basel Cathedral are said to be haunted by a couple of spectres entombed within the building. In the darkness of Basel’s Double Cloister, it is said you can hear the moaning of a man slowly suffocating and feel the unsuspected slap from a man, as mean in death as he was in life.
A lock keeper from the adjacent lock next The Portobello Bar in Dublin is said to be haunting it. Ever since his mistake cost the lives of someone crossing, he is said to be lingering in the area.
In an old sanatorium in Switzerland the ghost of Hermann is said to have been haunting for ages. But who was he when he was alive, and what was his true name before he died in the remote fortress up in the mountains? And is he still haunting the old halls where he never made his recovery?
After his master died at sea, the faithful dog was by his master’s grave, day in and day out. After dying of hunger and grief it is said that the Newfoundland dog is still seen, slipping between the graves at Glasnevin Cemetery in Dublin.
Once, the city of Bern was filled with nuns working and living inside of the city walls. According to ghost stories though, some of them remained, even after the Reformation that closed their convents down. And those stories tell about them being guilty of terrible things with terrible ends.
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.
Is Cell Number 11 in the former prison for the criminally insane haunted? The attic of the Norwegian Justice Museum in Trondheim, Norway has had many who come out, claiming so.
Now a place you can rent and stay at, the Beck House in Canada is said to be one of the more haunted places. Those who have stayed the night come back with stories of strange encounters, believed to be the ghost of the Beck family members.
Where the Nydegg Church is today, there once used to be a castle. Tales about ghosts lingering around the old Nydegg Castle and the stairs leading up to it still roams. And one of the more infamous and feared ghosts of Bern is the Burgträppe-Balzli.
The Haunted Ruins of Beaupre Castle in Wales is one of the places in Wales said to have been haunted by the wailing spirit and deadly omen of the The Gwrach y Rhibyn, also known as the Hag of Mist.
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