Haunted Places in Rhode Island
America's last vampire panic, the real Conjuring farmhouse, and the cemetery that inspired a horror legend.
In 1892, in the town of Exeter, a farmer let his neighbors dig up his dead daughter and burn her heart. Mercy Brown had died of tuberculosis, and as the disease took the rest of her family, panicked locals decided she was a vampire feeding on the living from her grave.
When they exhumed her, her body looked too preserved, so they cut out her heart, burned it, and fed the ashes to her sick brother. It did not save him. The Mercy Brown case is the most famous of the haunted places in Rhode Island, and it was one of the last documented vampire panics in America.
For the smallest state in the country, Rhode Island holds a startling amount of dread, enough to anchor any honest list of the most haunted places in America.
Mercy Brown and the New England Vampire Panic
The Mercy Brown exhumation was not an isolated act of madness. It was the tail end of a regional belief that the recently dead could drain the living, a folk explanation for tuberculosis sweeping through families before anyone understood the disease.
Decades later, archaeologists have uncovered similar "vampire" burials elsewhere, bodies pinned or rearranged by frightened communities. Mercy's grave in Exeter still draws visitors, and the iron cross marking it is one of the most visited spots in the state. The fear that put her there connects Rhode Island to the colonial dread behind the haunted places in Massachusetts, the haunted places in Connecticut, and the haunted places in Vermont.
commons.wikimedia.orgThe Conjuring Farmhouse, Harrisville
A farmhouse in Harrisville became internationally famous as the setting for The Conjuring, the 2013 film based on the Perron family, who lived there in the 1970s and reported a violent haunting tied to a woman named Bathsheba.
The real house still stands, and recent owners have opened it for paranormal tours and overnight stays. It is one of the clearest cases of a haunting amplified by Hollywood, the sort of real location turned into a movie ghost story that draws far more visitors after the film than before it. Whether the original events match the movie is another question entirely.
commons.wikimedia.orgNewport, Providence, and the Literary Ghosts
Rhode Island's haunted reputation also runs through its cities. Newport's Gilded Age mansions come with the usual servant-and-heiress ghost stories, and Providence gave the world H.P. Lovecraft, who set much of his cosmic horror in thinly disguised versions of his hometown.
Lovecraft is buried at Swan Point Cemetery, where fans still leave tributes at his grave. His Providence is a place of crumbling houses and wrong angles, the literary cousin of the genuinely unsettling images that old New England towns generate without trying. The dread he wrote about was partly just the city he walked through every day.
commons.wikimedia.orgBelcourt Castle and the Sprague Mansion
Newport's Gilded Age left more than mansions with tidy servant ghosts. Belcourt, the sixty-room summer cottage built in the 1890s, became known for a suit of armor that visitors swore reacted to them, and for a room where guests reported a sudden, sourceless cold. The castle's later owners leaned hard into the reputation, running ghost tours for years.
In Cranston, the Sprague Mansion carries the weight of a real scandal. The Sprague family ran one of the largest textile empires in the country, and the unsolved 1843 murder of Amasa Sprague cast a long shadow over the house. Staff and residents have reported a figure on the back stairs and the sense of a presence in the wine cellar, where the family's fortunes and griefs seemed to settle.
Even Rhode Island's wealth, it turns out, came with ghosts attached. The money built the houses. The houses kept the stories.
Mercy Brown’s exhumation was never just one desperate move in Exeter, it was the end of a whole regional belief that the dead could reach back for the living.
Speaking of communities panicking over the dead, the covered bridge with a chilling name and the farmhouse tied to hauntings feels eerily similar.
Meanwhile in Newport and Providence, the Gilded Age mansions and Lovecraft’s hometown dread keep the vibe going, and Swan Point Cemetery turns every fan visit into its own little séance.
Put Mercy Brown, Bathsheba, and Lovecraft side by side, and you can see how Rhode Island’s haunted places feed each other, fear turning into story, story turning into a destination.
Why Rhode Island Stays Haunted
Rhode Island packs centuries of fear into a tiny footprint. A vampire panic in a farm town. A haunting turned blockbuster. A horror writer who turned his own streets into nightmares. Nothing here is far from anything else, so the legends sit almost on top of one another.
That density is the point. The smallest state had the same colonial diseases, the same Puritan fears, and the same long memory as its larger neighbors, just compressed into less ground.
Rhode Island did not need much room to hold its ghosts. It only needed time, and it has had plenty. Three and a half centuries of it, all packed inside the smallest borders in the country.
Rhode Island’s scariest locations don’t just scare you, they recruit you.
Want more Rhode Island-style dread? Check out Salem’s gallows and the Bloody Pit rail tunnel.