New England Vampires: Nancy Young - 1827

A scant few miles north of the site of Stukeley Tillinghast’s Exeter farm lies the hilly and remote town of Foster, Rhode Island. Situated on the state’s western border, portions of Foster were at one time part of neighboring Connecticut. In fact, if one visits the family cemetery that figures in this tale, one might, within the walls of the burial ground, stray unwittingly into another state!

In the year 1806, Captain Levi Young, his wife Anna and their infant son journeyed from Connecticut to settle on their newly acquired farm in Foster. There was already a rustic house on the property and after Anna took the baby into what was to be their home, Levi and Elija, an older slave man Young had inherited from his father, unloaded the household goods.

As the years passed, Nancy grew into a fine young woman, smart, with a quick wit and an even temperament. By the age of 19, she was managing most of the accounting and ledger work on the farm.

Unfortunately, the bountiful times and the family’s good luck were coming to an end. Early in 1827, disaster struck: Nancy contracted what at first seemed to be a severe cold. She was bedridden and her sister Almira struggled to take over the farm’s bookkeeping. Soon, however, the fever from which Nancy suffered worsened and she began to weaken. On the 6th day of April 1827, Nancy died of what was recorded as “galloping consumption,” a phrase used to describe a particularly virulent form of tuberculosis.

A few months after Nancy’s death, Almira became ill, exhibiting symptoms similar to those of her dead sister. The affliction progressed slowly, but it eventually sapped her strength and she was forced to take to her bed. Levi arranged for the best doctor in the region to treat  his daughter, but the medical man was powerless to control the strange fever ravaging the poor girl.

One morning, Levi went to Almira’s bedside and even though she smiled and claimed she was “getting well,” it was apparent the girl was very frail and weak. Then she said something strange: “Last night I dreampt that Nancy came to visit me!” Young thought little of it, but his daughter continued, “She was bright, Papa, like an angel! She told me the pain would go away soon and then she held my hand, and I forgot all about being sick for a while.” Then she was racked by a fit of violent coughs and a streak of bright, red blood dripped from her mouth onto the bed sheets.

Captain Young was disturbed by Almira’s dream and began to suspect that conventional medicinal remedies could not provide the answer to his dilemma. Requesting a meeting of the town fathers, he resolved to attack the problem from a spiritual vantage point. Local history was peppered with tales of unquiet spirits who existed beyond the grace of God drawing forth the life of the living. Though skeptical, the elders entertained the possibility that Young’s household was being tormented by some sort of supernatural entity, and the restless spirit, if that's what it was, would be found lingering in the family graveyard within Nancy’s corpse.

A small collection of townsfolk accompanied Young and other members of the family to the newly-walled-off burial ground near the rear of the farm. Of the graves in the plot, only one was marked and the eerie brightness of the single slate tombstone was somewhat disconcerting. Nonetheless, the somber group filed quietly through the gate to stand beside Nancy’s resting place. One of the eldest present was Nathan “Doc” Lennox, a gaunt, white-bearded man. Old Nate wasn’t a real doctor, but he was knowledgeable about strange things and often called upon in cases such as this. Doc gestured to two of the more burly young men, one of whom was Jim Attwood. “You boys go and fetch up some wood an’ brush an’ start pilin’ it up like you was goin’ to build one heck of a bonfire.”

Capt. Young observed the proceedings in silence, clasping his hands together as if in prayer, and staring vacantly at his daughter’s cold stone marker. Family members stood around him and looked on as several townsmen bent to the task of unearthing Nancy’s coffin.

“No!”

Everyone was startled by the captain’s anguished cry. “I should be the one to begin,” he announced. “It is my burden and I will not ask any of you to do what I would not.” He reached out and took a spade from the hands of Ben McClure, a pleasant fellow only a little older than Nancy would have been had she lived. Ben and Nancy had known each other most of their lives. Young knew Ben had harbored some affection for his eldest daughter and supposed this must be difficult for the boy. “Thank you, Ben,” he said to the man who might have been his son-in-law. “Thank you all,” he continued, addressing the assembled crowd.

By sunset, the coffin containing the shrouded white figure of Nancy Young lay atop a pile of wood, branches and dry brush. Young did not speak as he set a torch to the base of the wooden mound. The fire caught fast and soon the pyre was engulfed in yellow flames, spiraling up into the blackness of the descending darkness.

Doc Lennox had advised members of the family to stand close enough so that the vapors from the blaze could cleanse them of any contamination by the evil that had claimed their loved one. Braving the searing heat, the family joined hands and allowed the smoke to engulf them. Others present maintained a distance from the horrific bonfire outside the graveyard wall.

By morning, the exhausted family and onlookers had returned to their homes. Little more than ash remained of Nancy Young.

The unusual remedy employed by members of the Young family does not appear to have helped. The already stricken Almira died within months of Nancy’s exhumation and cremation. As time passed, four more of Levi and Anna’s children succumbed to consumption, but none was exhumed.

The site of the former Young farm is currently divided into several parcels of private property. Because of its isolation, the burial ground is remarkably well-preserved and the engravings on the stones of Nancy and several other family members are still legible.