While Frederick Ransom's tale has been well-documented through family records and his brother's memoirs, Woodstock harbors another, more mysterious vampire story—one that blurs the line between historical fact and local legend.
A Newspaper Sensation
In the autumn of 1890, as yellow leaves carpeted the Woodstock village green where Frederick Ransom's heart had been burned decades earlier, The Vermont Standard published a sensational story that captivated its readers. The tale recounted Woodstock's second alleged vampire incident—one purportedly witnessed firsthand and shared with the newspaper by an elderly woman who had carried the memory for nearly half a century.
According to this account, in the summer of 1830—thirteen years after Frederick Ransom's death—a young man with the surname Corwin succumbed to consumption and was laid to rest in the Cushing Cemetery, located at the picturesque corner of Cloudland Road and River Road. Six months later, as winter's grip tightened on Vermont, the Corwin family faced a new horror: another son began exhibiting the telltale symptoms of the same wasting disease.
What happened next speaks to the persistent power of supernatural belief in 19th century New England—even among the medical establishment. The newspaper claimed that local physicians, including the respected Dr. Joseph Gallup and Dr. John Powers from the Vermont Medical College, reached a startling consensus: the deceased Corwin brother had become a vampire and was feeding on his sibling from beyond the grave.
- Alexander, William M. (Author)
- English (Publication Language)
- 74 Pages – 08/26/2018 (Publication Date) – Independently published (Publisher)
- Simard, Tim (Author)
- English (Publication Language)
- 204 Pages – 04/28/2025 (Publication Date) – Publishingworks (Publisher)
A Ritual More Elaborate Than Most
The measures taken to address the Corwin “vampire” were even more extraordinary than those employed in the Ransom case. According to the 1890 account, the deceased Corwin's body was exhumed and examined. What the townsfolk allegedly discovered seemed to confirm their worst fears: despite six months in the cold Vermont ground, the young man's heart remained “undecayed and filled with liquid blood“—considered irrefutable evidence of vampirism in the folklore of the time.
The heart was removed and, rather than being burned immediately as Frederick's had been, was reportedly boiled in a pot. The remains were then buried in a hole on the village green—perhaps not far from where Frederick Ransom's ashes had been scattered—and covered with an immense seven-ton block of granite to ensure the vampire could never rise again. In a final, particularly macabre touch, the site was said to have been sprinkled with the fresh blood of a young bullock to complete the ritual.
When Legend Meets History
What makes the Corwin story particularly intriguing is how it exists in the shadow land between verifiable history and local legend. In a 1966 article for Vermont Life, researcher Rockwell Stephens meticulously examined the Corwin account, finding that certain elements rang true. The 1890 newspaper story accurately named prominent Woodstock businessmen and correctly identified physicians practicing in the town in 1830—details that lend credibility to the tale.
Yet other aspects of the story remain frustratingly unverifiable. Despite considerable effort by historians and genealogists, no record has been found of any Corwin boy dying in 1830 and being interred in Cushing Cemetery. This absence is particularly puzzling given how well-documented most deaths and burials were, even in that era.
Even more curious is the complete silence of The Woodstock Observer, the local newspaper of 1830. If such an elaborate and public ritual had indeed taken place on the village green, involving prominent physicians and drawing a significant crowd, one would expect at least a brief mention in the local press. Yet the contemporary newspaper contains no reference to the incident.
- Alexander, William M. (Author)
- English (Publication Language)
- 160 Pages – 06/27/2008 (Publication Date) – The History Press (Publisher)
The Puzzle of Two Vampires
So what are we to make of Woodstock's second vampire? Unlike Frederick Ransom, whose exhumation is confirmed by his brother's written account, the Corwin case rests entirely on a newspaper story published sixty years after the alleged events, based on the recollections of an elderly witness.
Some historians have suggested that the Corwin story might be a distorted retelling of the Ransom incident, with details modified and embellished over decades of oral transmission. Others propose that the 1890 article may have blended elements of various vampire incidents from across New England into a more dramatic narrative, attaching it to Woodstock due to the town's previous experience with such rituals.
Yet the specificity of certain details—the named doctors, the exact location of Cushing Cemetery, the elaborate ritual elements—suggests there may be some historical kernel at the heart of the tale. Perhaps the family name was different, or the date incorrect, or perhaps the records simply haven't survived.
What remains undeniable is that the story of the Corwin vampire, whether factual or folkloric, reveals the depth of fear that tuberculosis inspired in 19th century communities. When medical science offered no explanation for why disease seemed to prey on entire families, the vampire theory provided both an explanation and a potential remedy, however desperate.
The Legacy of Woodstock's Vampires
Today, visitors to Woodstock's idyllic village green might never suspect the grim rituals that may have taken place there. No markers indicate where the hearts of suspected vampires were burned or buried. The seven-ton granite block, if it ever existed, has long since been removed or repurposed.
Yet the stories endure—Frederick Ransom's confirmed by family records, the Corwin case preserved in newspaper archives—reminding us that even in picturesque New England towns, our ancestors confronted death and disease with whatever tools they had at their disposal, whether medical, spiritual, or supernatural.
Together, these two cases paint a complex portrait of a community in the grip of a deadly epidemic, struggling to understand and combat a disease that would not be scientifically understood until decades later. Whether entirely factual or partially embellished, Woodstock's vampire legends offer a window into the human response to seemingly inexplicable tragedy—a reminder that when science fails, folklore often fills the void.
Sources: Vermont Standard (1890), Vermont Life (1966), Woodstock Historical Society archives
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