New England Vampires: Abigail Staples - 1796

New England Vampires: Abigail Staples - 1796

On a quiet road in northern Cumberland, Rhode Island, lies a small, neglected graveyard (pictured above) dating to the Revolutionary War. Broken stones among accumulated layers of dead leaves are the only evidence this branch of the Staples family ever existed. Beneath the soil of the ancient plot, however, may lie the unquiet bones of Abigail Staples, who died more than two hundred years ago at the age of 23. Sadly for the family, Abigail’s early death does not seem to have been the end of her story. In the months following her demise, members of the Cumberland Town Council were petitioned with an unusual request:

From Cumberland Town Council Records - 1796

At a town Council held at Cumberland in the County of Providence, being specially called and held on the eighth day of February 1796.

Members Present:
Mr. John Lapham
Mr. Jason Newell
Capt. Benjamin S. Westcott
Mr. Benjamin Singly

Mr. Stephen Staples of Cumberland appeared before this council and prayed that he might have liberty granted unto him to dig up the body of his daughter Abigail Staples, late of Cumberland, single woman, deceased, in order to try an experiment on Lavinia Chace, wife of Stephen Chace, which said Lavinia was sister to said Abigail, deceased. Which being duly considered it is voted and resolved that the said Stephen Staples have liberty to dig up the body of the said Abigail, deceased, and after the experiment as aforesaid that he bury the body of the said Abigail in a decent manner.

Voted that this Council be dissolved.
Witness, Mr. Jonathan Carpenter, Council Clerk

Shortly after the death of her sister Abigail, Lavinia Chace, wife of Stephen Chace, developed consumption, which seemed to be slowly draining the life from her body – every day, she seemed weaker and more pale than she did the day before. In her fevered dreams, which she recounted to family members, Lavinia was tormented and smothered each night by a shadowy figure perched upon her chest, crushing her with its weight and drawing out her breath as though feeding upon it. Her husband attempted to reassure her the nightmares would pass, but he himself did not believe this. Then one morning, as Chace was beginning to awaken, Lavinia sat bolt upright in bed and cried, “Abigail!” before falling once more into a fitful sleep.

Much disturbed by the strange episode, Chace went that evening to the home of his father-in-law, Stephen Staples, to tell him of Lavinia’s outburst. Staples listened patiently to the young man’s account. “I’m not sure what to think, Sir,” Chace continued, “but it is odd, is it not?”

Staples agreed his daughter’s dreams were odd, but when it came to witchery and spooks, the old man was skeptical, and when his son-in-law suggested Abigail might be sapping the life of her sister, his first impulse was to show Chace to the door. Instead, he listened, and finally decided if there was any chance at all to save Lavinia, it was worth trying.

So Chace and Staples approached the local authorities with their strange request, placing the final decision in the hands of the town elders. A rumble of low comments moved through the assembled council members until Ben Westcott, a respected War of Independence veteran, extended condolences on behalf of the town leaders on the loss of Abigail Staples and Lavinia’s illness, seemingly ignoring the request of the two petitioners before him.

Then Council Chair John Lapham spoke. “The unusual matter of which you speak is somewhat beyond our ken, I’m afraid. We are somewhat unsettled to hear a sensible man such as yourself putting forth such a notion.”

Undaunted by the council’s skepticism, which, ordinarily, he would have shared, Staples pressed his point. “Surely you don’t mean to suggest that our Sunday worship is an act of folly, Mr. Lapham? Yet only this week past were we counseled by our own Pastor Forbes on the wiles and dangers of the Devil.”

The councilmen appeared momentarily startled by Staples’s argument, allowing Stephen Chace to assume the argument. “Would it not be wiser, Sirs, to grant license for this experiment – in the sake of the community’s good? If it’s for naught, then no great harm done, yet if it be true, and allowed to fester . . . .” The younger man trailed off, as though unwilling to speculate on the consequences of inaction.

Laphan, raising his hand to silence those assembled, addressed the petitioners: “Naturally, I mean no disrespect for our pastor or his words – though you might do well to regard them more philosophically in the future.” He sat back in his chair and regarded the two gentlemen before him. “Your request is granted, though it is against the better conscience of this council.” Lapham reached for paper and quill and began to draft an order. “See that your daughter is re-interred with full respect at the conclusion of this affair – and I charge you also to see that this experiment is conducted with a minimum of spectacle.”

Staples agreed to conduct the exhumation without undue attention and was as good as his word. The hillside graveyard was hidden from common view on his property, however, the group of neighbors waited until almost dark to make their way to the location just the same.

There is no record of Abigail’s condition when the grave was opened, nor can we be certain of the events that followed. Although the names and events recounted herein are plain to see in the Cumberland Town Council’s journal of 1796, no other accounts of the family seem to exist. There is no followup in Council records, nor are there any extant graves to be found of any of those involved in the strange drama. It is as if Stephen Staples, Stephen Chace and Lavinia all vanished into the darkness of that long-ago night.
 
Compiled by Graveyardbride from the following sources: The Vampire Hunter’s Guide to New England by Christopher Rondina; Food for the Dead: On the Trail of New England's Vampires by Michael E. Bell, and New England's Things That Go Bump in the Night by Robert Ellis Cahill.