Lore - Lore 308: Without a Trace

Episode Date: June 15, 2026

Dark stories often have twists, turns, and the constant fear of getting lost in the shadows. Which is a lot like one real trail that haunts American history. Let's take a journey there together. Narrated and produced by Aaron Mahnke, with writing by GennaRose Nethercott, research by Cassandra de Alba, and music by Chad Lawson. ————————— PRE-ORDER EXHUMED TODAY: aaronmahnke.com/exhumed ————————— Lore Resources:  Get Ad-Free Lore: lorepodcast.com/support Episode Music: lorepodcast.com/music  Episode Sources: lorepodcast.com/sources  Official Lore Merchandise: lorepodcast.com/shop ————————— Sponsors: BetterHelp: Lore is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at BetterHelp.com/LORE, and get on your way to being your best self. Squarespace: Head to Squarespace.com/lore to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain using the code LORE. Bilt: Membership that rewards you with points on every housing payment, wherever you live. Join the membership for where you live at JoinBilt.com/Lore. Quince: Premium European clothing and accessories for 50% to 80% less than similar brands. Visit Quince.com/LORE for free shipping on your order and 365-day returns. ————————— To report a concern regarding a radio-style, non-Aaron ad in this episode, reach out to ads @ lorepodcast.com with the name of the company or organization so we can look into it. To advertise on this podcast please email: [e-mail]. Or go to: https://advertising.libsyn.com/lore ————————— ©2026 Aaron Mahnke

Spring has a way of reintroducing your home to the light. The day stretch a little longer. Mornings feel softer. Your home opens up after a long winter. But with more light comes more glare, more heat, less privacy. That's where Hunter Douglas comes in. Hunter Douglas shades are designed to do more than cover windows. They shape the light itself.

From beautifully diffused morning sun to complete privacy at night, every shade is custom crafted to fit your home perfectly. These are not off-the-shelf window treatments. They're precision-engineered, professional. measured and expertly installed. The kind of upgrade that doesn't just refresh a room, it elevates it. And because you'll work with a local expert, every detail is handled for you,

from inspiration to installation. There's a store in your area where you could get Hunter Douglas Shades. Ready to get started? Visit night and day, decor.com, or call 647-360-6151. That's Night and Day Decor. If you've ever wondered what combat actually feels like, not the headlines, not the movies,

but what it was like to be there. This is combat story. I'm A.J. Peschuti, a retired force recon marine and scout sniper, and this show is for anyone who wants to understand the human side of war, through the people that lived it. I sit down with veterans from across generations and specialties, special operators, pilots, infantry, law enforcement, and everyone in between, and we talk about the moments that stayed with them, the missions that went right, and the ones that didn't, and what it costs during and after. There's no script and no agenda, just real conversations between two people who've walked similar

paths. We're not here to create content. We're here to provide context. So whether you've worn the uniform or just want to understand those who have, watch, listen, and follow us wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Combat Story. It's funny how life can turn on a dime. One minute you're having a casual lunchtime swim in a trailside stream, the next you're staring down the barrel of a gun. At least that's how it went for one unfortunate group of men in August of 1801. The swimmers were part of a team led by Colonel Joshua Baker, tasked with tracking down a famed highwayman named Sam Wolfman Mason. You see, after a decade of robbing and murdering travelers,

Mason happened to steal from Colonel Baker himself earlier that year. And so in retaliation, Baker had enlisted a bandit-hunting posse. And, yeah, judging by the burly, snagletooth fellow in front of them now, they had managed to find the wolfman. Just not in the way they had hoped. But alas, here Baker's men were, naked, wet, and very much on the wrong end of the outlaw's rifle. Sam Mason stepped forward. He wore a leather shirt and leggings, his infamous wolf fang glinting

crooked in his mouth. I'm glad to see you, gentlemen, Mason said with a mocking politeness. And though our meeting did not promise to be quite so friendly, I am just as well satisfied. My arms and ammunition will not cost as much as I expected. And with that, he forced Baker's men to relinquish their weapons before he vanished back into the woods, like a pirate from a storybook. Baker had bested them again. It would be another year before the dreaded wolfman would finally be caught, and although he would swear before the court that he was only a humble hunter, the stolen goods, the guns, and most notably 20 human scalps in the guy's possession,

told a different story. And Mason's spree might have ended there, if not for the fact that when being transported to stand trial, the outlaw and his men overpowered the guards and escaped along the very same wilderness path that they had terrorized for years. Who knows, perhaps some part of him remains there to this day. After all, Sam Mason

certainly wouldn't be the only ghost to wander the legendary trail, known as the Notches Trace. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is lore. It's not an easy path. Wild grapevines tangle, snake-like in the underbrush.

Cain thickets tower so high they dim the sun, while Spanish mulls, moss drips from tree limbs, ghostly and pale, swinging in the breeze like a hangman's noose. But the flora is the least of your worries. What really matters is what hides inside it, thieves and killers, crouching out of sight along the winding trail. And guess what?

They've been waiting just for you. Welcome to the Notches Trace. Stretching 440 miles from Notches, Mississippi to Nashville, Tennessee, the Natchez Trace is, simply put, a historic walk. walking trail. But its first hikers weren't exactly human. No, it was actually traipsed into being thousands of years ago by bison and other grazing animals living along the Mississippi River. And not one to let a perfectly tramped down pathway go to waste, it wasn't long before humans jumped on the bandwagon as well. Rather than bushwhack trails from scratch, native tribes

started following the traces these animals left behind, and thus the Natchez Trace's trace was born. Villages cropped up along the way, of course, some settled up to 10,000 years ago. The first people traveling and living along the trace were the Mississippian mound builders. Later, native tribes such as the Chickasaw, Choktaw, and of course the Notches Nations. And when European colonizers arrived in the so-called New World, while they took advantage of this wilderness route themselves, widening it to accommodate horses and eventually wagons. And so it went. The wagon wheel rolled. on and so did the years, until by the 1700s the trace had become a full-blown trade route.

It would go a little something like this. Boatmen would pull their flatboats down the Mississippi River to sell goods at the markets and notches in New Orleans. But when it came time to head home, well, they couldn't exactly float their boats up river as well. And so merchants would sell their flatboats for lumber and then hoof it north on foot right along, that's right, they not just trace. And trust me, this was not an easy stroll. The trek would take about a month, and all sorts of dangers lay along the trail.

Poor weather, snake bites, sickness and injury, those were definitely tough things. But for those tradesmen whose pockets were heavy with earnings from recent sales, there was one more threats that was more dangerous than all the rest. Highwaymen. Suffice to say these poor merchants were easy picking for brigands and bandits. And sure, there were places to stay along the rest. the route, accommodations known as stands, which popped up to cater to travelers. One even offered,

and I quote, a meal of corn mush and milk and a spot to sleep on the porch for 25 cents. Cozy, I know. But the best corn mush in the world wouldn't protect you once a highwayman had you in his sights. The trace was arguably the most dangerous place to travel in all of America. Heck, according to one historian, travelers who couldn't afford weapons would even, and I quote, grow out their fingernails and attempt to gouge out the eyes of anyone who tried to rob them. But the truth is, despite the dangers that tradesmen faced along the trail, there were people who suffered far, far worse. Inslave people were forced to march up to 20 miles a day along the trace,

chained together and sleeping on the bare ground at night. In multiple places, the trace crossed another famously tragic trail as well, the Trail of Tears. And with all this death and terror, it makes sense that folks started calling the route by another name entirely. The Devil's Backbone. By the mid-1820s, the advent of the Mississippi steamboat caused the trace to fall out of fashion.

After all, now that a boat could carry you back up river, which would you rather pay a little extra for a charming passenger cruise with a singing calliope or trudge through the robber-filled wilderness for a month? Yeah, pretty much a no-brainer. And that was that. Within a decade, much of the trail had been reclaimed by the elements. swallowed back up by all the cane, grapevine, and Spanish moss those bison had trampled so many millennia before. But just because the trail was gone, didn't mean the dangers were.

A lot of blood had seeped into that southern soil, blood that, if the stories are to be believed, left the devil's backbone with more than its fair share of ghosts. The truth is, the dead were everywhere. The hikers just didn't know it. I'm referring to the graves, under stones and in mounds of earth, hidden behind tree roots and dumped into ditches. The trace wasn't just a trail. It was a bone yard. Remember the Mississippi mound builders I mentioned earlier, those first human residents along the trail? Well, they were called mound builders for a reason. These early peoples built at least 22 mounds along the trace, many of which were used for burial. Excavations into one called Magnum Mound revealed more than 80 bodies, sleeping

in the earth, and who knows how many still remain undiscovered. But it wasn't only native residents using the route as a final resting place. North of Tupelo, Mississippi, lie the corpses of 13 Confederate soldiers. And the thing is, no one knows why. Their names are unmarked. Their cause of death? Unknown. And you have to remember, by the Civil War, the trace was already out of use.

So the real question is, why had the men been there at all? Was there a secret field hospital on the site? Had they wandered sick and injured from a battle further away? Or had something else lured the soldiers onto the path and never let them leave? Now sure, the presence of graves in such a long-occupied area is totally natural. But some spots along the trace seem downright supernatural. Take, for example, a little spot known as the Devil's Punch Bowl. Described by native inhabitants as the former site of the site of the same,

of a meteor strike. The devil's punch bowl is a massive indentation in the ground, stretching some 500 feet wide, and there are all sorts of eerie legends attached to it. Steamboat operators claim that their compasses would go wonky while passing by the punch bowl on the nearby Mississippi River. Highwaymen used to use the hole as a hideout, and their ghosts are said to haunt the site to this day, shimmering at the basin's edge. Some are even said to have hidden treasure there, deep in the hollow pit. and then there's the tale of the cutthroat highwayman Joseph Thompson Hare. According to legend, when Hare found out his mistress had been cheating on him,

he had her buried alive right there in the heart of the punchbowl. And apparently, she was wearing nothing but her jewelry. On dark nights, her ghost is said to appear to travelers, offering them that same glittering jewelry in exchange for a decent Christian burial. As far as I know, no one has ever taken her up on the offer. What I do know, though, is that real-life horror will always make ghost stories pale in comparison, and the reality of the devil's punchbowl is proof. You see, in the wake of the Civil War, there was an immediate housing problem.

Thousands upon thousands of African Americans had become newly emancipated, and desperate to get away from the Confederate-ruled regions where they had been enslaved, they began to flee north. And notches Mississippi, well, not only was it the largest city in Mississippi, but it just so happened to be under the control of union forces. Suddenly, countless families were flooding into notches, more than the city could possibly accommodate, and so desperate to help,

the union set up a refugee camp smack dab in the middle of, that's right, the devil's punchbowl. The union did the best they could, but the truth is they were ill-equipped to handle the sheer mass of people who were arriving every day. Sanitation was not what it could be. the drinking water was not clean, and to make matters worse, smallpox had begun working its way throughout the crowded camp. Tragically, thousands of formerly enslaved people would die right there

in the belly of the devil's punch bowl. Their lives cut short, just when they had finally won their freedom. Oh, and remember Sam Wolfman Mason, that highwayman who evaded capture and vanished along the trace? Even he had a tie to the devil's punch bowl. According to legend, the Wolfman and his cronies, like to play a little game there. They would throw bodies over the side and place bets on how long they would take to hit the bottom. Pretty grisly, right? Legend or not, Mason was a very real threat along the notches trace.

But he wasn't the apex predator. No, that title belonged to someone else entirely, because the only thing more dangerous than one monster is two. The brothers had a bounty on their head. $300 each, to be exact, nearly six grand today. And trust me, stopping these guys would be worth a hundred times that and more. The year was 1799, and Mackiah and Willie Harp, aka Big Harp and Little Harp, were on the run from the law. Why?

Oh, nothing major, just some casual murdering and jailbreaking. Everyone needs a hobby, I suppose. Big Harp was tall and a cruel man with a broad face and curly black hair that fell over his forehead. Little Harp was, as his name suggested, smaller with red hair. And though the duo told everyone that they were brothers, they were probably cousins. And look, I get it. The harp cousins doesn't have the same ring to it. These guys were going to be on a lot of wanted posters. Branding mattered, apparently. The harps were the sons of Scottish immigrants to North Carolina and had even fought on

the side of the British during the revolution, which, let's just say, didn't exactly leave them on warm and fuzzy terms with their American neighbors once the war was over. So after the smoke cleared, the harps decided it was time for new stomping grounds, and I'll give you one guess as to where they fled. That's right, the Notches Trace. Now, you might think that being at war would have scratched whatever itch these guys had for bloodshed, but no, right away the harps started killing again. Pretty soon they were wanted for multiple murders in Kentucky and Tennessee alike, hence those tidy little $300 bounties. Just two more killers roving Notches Trace. But they weren't alone. Their wives travel.

with them, a woman named Sally Rice and two sisters named Betsy and Susan Roberts, each with a baby in tow. And yes, I know there's something funny about that math, right? Two harps, three wives. Well, while Sally Rice was married to Little Harp, Big Harp considered himself married to both Betsy and Susan. So what do you do during a family vacation on a beautiful hiking trail? By lots and lots of murdering, of course. At least, that's how the Harps passed their time. And what can only be described as a full-blown killing spree, the Hart Brothers rampaged through the South. In one incident, they were graciously invited to stay near a homestead for the night and thanked their host by axe murdering him and his 13-year-old son. Another time, they shot

11 campers while they slept just for kicks. And at another time still, the harps took a total stranger captive, stripped him naked, tied him to a blindfolded horse, and then drove the horse off a cliff, all while cackling maniacly. Yeah, these guys were straight-up supervillains, and as their spree continued, one thing became abundantly clear to the terrified citizens living along the trace. These men weren't like other bandits on the trail. In fact, they could hardly be called bandits at all. The truth was, they rarely even stole from the people they murdered.

They would burn down houses with everything inside. They would leave bodies behind with pockets still heavy with valuables. Instead of filling their own coffers with stolen goods, they spent their time filling their victim's bodies with rocks before gleefully sinking their corpses into the river. No, the Hart brothers weren't killing for profit. They were killing for fun. And it wasn't just strangers who suffered at their hands.

One day, Sally Rice's baby daughter started crying, and Big Heart became annoyed. Now, I won't go into the gruesome details here, but let's just say that the baby count immediately went down by one. death after death, cruelty after cruelty. The harps were like a plague infecting the whole of the notches trace. Until finally, one summer, they took things a step too far. It was August 20th of 1799, when the harps arrived at the home of Moses Stiegel in western Kentucky.

Now, to say the Stiegles were friends with the harps would be a strong word. I really don't think these fellows were great at making friends. But they were acquainted, and the Stegals had housed the harp wives. and their children in the past. On this particular night, though, Moses wasn't home, but his wife was, and she gladly welcomed the harps to stay. Now, she was hosting another guest that night as well,

a traveling surveyor named Major William Love, and the house was small, but that's okay, Mrs. Stiegel and her own baby could sleep on the floor, and the three men could share the bed. When the time came to sleep, Major Love, Big Harp, and Little Harp, all coesied up together in the same little bed.

And I'll admit, I can't help but imagine this scene as some kind of slapstick head-to-toe situation, like the grandparents from Willy Wonka. Kind of cute, right? Or, well, it could have been if Major Love hadn't been a snorer. Sometime during the night, the harps awoke to the Major absolutely shaking the room with his snores, and so they responded in a totally reasonable way by chopping him to death with an axe. And from there, they reprimanded Miss Stiegel for putting them in the bed with a snorer, before killing her and her baby as well. And then they set the house ablaze, leapt on their horses, and galloped off into the dark. It wasn't long before the townsfolk discovered the grisly crime scene, though, and there was no

doubt in anyone's mind. This could only be the work of the Hart Brothers. Immediately, a posse formed to hunt them down, but the harps were no strangers to running, and so to evade their pursuers, they decided to split up. Forced to choose, the posse let little harp go and chased big harp. And amazingly, they caught him. And who had the honor of killing him? Why, that went to poor Moses Stiegel, who had led the hunt. Some say that he shot his family's murderer through the heart, others that he used Big Harp's own butcher knife to hack off his head.

But either way, one thing was certain. Makaya Harp, the demon of the Natchez Trace, was dead. As a warning to others, his head was placed in a tree along the trail, not far from Stiegel's home. Time passed, scavengers feasted, and soon only a grinning skull remained. Today the skull is long gone. The memory is not.

In fact, a thoroughfare nearby still bears the name Harp's Head Road. As for Little Harp, well, he would be hanged only five years later in 1804. Just like Big Harp, his head too would be placed on a stake along the trace. How was he caught, you might ask? Well, he was actually the one to approach the law. Not to turn himself in. No, Little Harp had been recognized. after marching right up to the authorities,

plopping something in front of them and demanding a reward. What was the object he brought them? Well, according to Little Harp, he had just delivered to them the head of Sam Wolfman Mason. A trail is a lot like a story. It has turns and dips,

it loops back on itself in ways that you would never expect. There are tests and perils, beasts and shadows. And finally, just when you think you're completely lost, You find yourself at the end, a whole adventure at your back. But there is perhaps something in the wilderness of the landscape that makes the notches trace so singular, letting fiction and reality blend together.

Because although the Hart Brothers' real lives may have ended with their heads on pikes, their stories kept right on living. You see, along the trace, there is a spot known as Witch Dance, where legend has it, a coven once gathered for nighttime feasts. According to the tales, Big Harp was once warned of this while passing by the spot, and not one for scary stories, began to mock these supposed witches dancing and leaping while daring them to come after him. And well, suffice to say the witches did not love that. Some say Big Harp's gruesome death was due to a witch's curse. Others

hold that once Big Harp's head was nothing more than a skull in the tree, a witch stole it, to grind into a healing potion. To this day, visitors claim that if you tell the story of Big Harp and the witch dance while walking the trace, you'll hear laughter rise up through the trees. And as for the spot itself, well, it's said that wherever the witch's feet once touched the earth, no grass will grow. And you can see it for yourself. You can still spot bare patches of earth at witch dance today. Although, I have to say, given the fact that it's now an official campsite, I can't help but wonder if those bare spots may be less about the legacy of witchcraft and more the legacy of long-used tent sites.

As for the Hart Brothers' legacy, though, by the end of their reign, they were formerly linked to 25 murders, although the true total may have been as high as 40. Even now, treasure hunters still search for saddlebags full of money that the harps supposedly hid along the trail, although none have ever been found. But it's another enduring legacy that makes the harps truly chilling.

Because, while known merely as outlaws in their time, They hold another dubious honor today. Big harp and little harp are considered none other than the first serial killers in American history. I want to thank you for wandering with me down the winding path of the not just trace. It can be satisfying to see evil people get their comeuppance, crime and punishment and all of that. But then again, there are some deaths on the trace that remain unavenged to this day, and my team and I have pulled together one last story to explain what I mean. Stick around through this brief sponsor break to hear all about it.

This episode was made possible by Squarespace. Before I created lore, I was a branding designer helping businesses craft a professional presence that customers could trust, because if you don't put your best foot forward, it's hard to start your business journey, which is something that Squarespace allows anyone to do with ease. Squarespace is the all-in-one website platform that's designed to help you stand out and succeed online, whether you're just starting out or you're just starting out or you're scaling a growing business. Squarespace has you covered and gives you everything that you need

all in one place. Whether you're offering consultations and services or selling physical goods and digital downloads, you can showcase your offerings with a website that's designed to attract clients and grow your business. Squarespace also helps you get paid on time with professional on-brand invoices and online payments, and they streamline your workflow with built-in appointment scheduling and email marketing tools right on your website. Plus, by using basic information about your industry goals and personality, Squarespace can generate personalized design recommendations so that your digital home perfectly represents you. Get started today for free.

Head over to Squarespace.com slash lore for a free trial, and when you're ready to launch it, use the offer code lore to save 10% off your first purchase of a website or domain. Squarespace, Build Something Beautiful. This episode was made possible by Quince. Summer always changes how I get dressed. I want pieces that feel lighter and more breathable, things that are easy but still put together. And that's why I keep coming back to Quince.

They focus on high-quality essentials that feel and look amazing. Think breathable linen and soft organic cotton. Well-made basics, but without the luxury markup. It's that rare balance where everything feels elevated, but still effortless. Quince's European linen pants and shirts are the perfect warm weather upgrade to add to your rotation, starting at just $34. Their teas are soft and easy to wear, and their lightweight cotton sweaters are perfect for cooler summer nights. In fact, I wear one of their flow-knit-brease performance teas just about every single day. I have them in a whole bunch of colors, and they never let me down.

Everything at Quince is priced 50 to 80% less than similar brands. They work directly with ethical factories and cut out the middlemen so you're paying for quality. not brand markup. Quince goes way beyond clothing, too. Custom upholstered sofas, ceramic cookware, premium bedding. It's the kind of brand that you end up recommending to everyone for everything. Elevate your summer wardrobe. Go to quince.com slash lore for free shipping on your order and 365 day returns. Now available in Canada too. That's Q-U-I-N-C-E dot com slash lore for free shipping and 365-day returns. Quince.com This show is sponsored by BetterHelp.

For some, summer is their favorite season. Travel picks up, kids are out of school, and adventure is the focus. For others, though, juggling it all can be tough and overwhelming, and they end up counting down the minutes until the kids are back in school, and many worry that they're wasting the days of sunshine. Therapy can help people better understand their needs, feel more confident setting boundaries, and create a version of summer that actually feels good. And that's where BetterHelp comes in.

BetterHelp does the initial matching work for you so you can focus on your therapy goals. A short questionnaire helps identify your needs and preferences and their industry leading match fulfillment rate means they typically get it right the first time. And with over 30,000 therapists, BetterHelp is the world's largest online therapy platform, having served over 6 million people globally. And it works, too, with an average rating of 4.9 out of 5 for a live session based on over 1.7 million client reviews. You don't have to say yes to everything this summer.

Find support in therapy. Sign up and get 10% off at betterhelp.com slash lore. That's betterhelp.com slash lore. This episode was made possible by Built. Whether you're renting or paying a mortgage, one of your biggest monthly expenses should be working harder for you. That's where Built comes in. Built is the membership for where you live that rewards you with points on every

housing payment wherever you live. Built started out rewarding members on their rent. Now, as of 2026, built members can also earn points on mortgage payments where they live. Every housing payment earns you points you can use toward flights with top travel partners like United and Hyatt, lift rides, Amazon.com purchases, and so much more. Me personally, I definitely redeem my points for gift cards. They make great gifts for others or a fun way to set aside something for yourself for now or for later. But here's what I think is the most underrated part. Built members also get access to a neighborhood concierge. It can make restaurant reservations, book fitness classes, and find new local spots,

all while being rewarded at more than 45,000 merchant partners. It's like having a personal assistant baked into where you live. It's simple. Being a renter and now owning a home is better with built. Join the membership for where you live at joinbilt.com slash lore. That's J-O-I-N-B-L-T dot com slash lore. And make sure to use it. that specific address so they know that lore sent you.

Just like any good mystery, this one begins with a death. It was the night of October 10th in 1809 when shots rang out at the little inn known as Grinders' stand. No witnesses, no spectacle, only that piercing crack cutting through the autumn air. At the sound of the gunshot, Priscilla Grindr, the innkeeper's wife, froze with fear. But this was the not just trace, when violence breaks out the best thing you can do is stay out of it. And so Priscilla shut her eyes and tried to pretend it all away. At least she did until the following morning when a 35-year-old man was found suffering from

gunshot wounds in his room. He was still alive, but barely. And only two hours later, the man was dead. Grinders stand sat some 60 miles southwest of Nashville, near what's now known as Hoanwold, Tennessee. It was a modest establishment catering to those intrepid travelers moving up and down the famous trail. And as it turned out, it was one of those very travelers who found himself on the receiving end of those late-night bullets. The investigation occurred, and authorities ruled the man's death, a suicide. It seemed obvious.

The guy had long suffered from depression, as well as debilitating headaches. He was smothered in financial problems. There were conflicts at his job, and not only that, but before his trip, he'd given several associates the power to distribute his possessions in the event of his death. Just a month prior, he'd even made up a will. Add to that the fact that on the night of his death, he'd been seen pacing the inn's common room and muttering to himself.

And, well, it all seemed pretty cut and dried. I fear, one of his closest associates wrote, Oh, I fear the weight of his mind has overcome him. Except, well, there were other fears making the rounds as well. Fears that the man hadn't ended his life at all, but had been murdered. After all, this was the not just trace, a place where nothing was as it seemed. So, let's start with the body.

The man, you see, had died of two gunshot wounds, one to the chest and one to the head. Suspicious, but not necessarily proof of foul play. And sure, that detail may have been easy to dismiss on its own, if not for the fact that several people had both had the opportunity and the motive to kill him. Now, if we were in an Agatha Christie play, this would be the part where all of the suspects are interested. to the audience. And we'll start with a familiar name, Grindr, that is, Robert Grindr, the owner of Grindr's stand, and his wife, Priscilla. Apparently, each time Priscilla was asked about that fateful night, her story had a pesky way of changing. And then there's the large sum of money

Robert Grindr mysteriously came into shortly after his guest's death. Could he have stolen it from the dead man? The victim had been carrying cash that was never accounted for after his death, or perhaps one of the victim's enemies had paid the innkeeper to do the dirty work. It was definitely possible. Oh, and speaking of enemies, the deceased had plenty, not the least of which was his very own traveling companion, James Neely. It turns out part of the reason for the dead man's trip was to carry a stack of papers from St. Louis to Washington, D.C., papers that may have contained information on some very shady land deals,

desperate to keep the truth from reaching Washington, some believe Neely was part of a larger conspiracy to kill the man and steal the proof back. What proof? Why will never know? Because while the dead man's papers did, under Neely's care, eventually arrive in Washington, some of them seem to have conveniently vanished from the stack.

Of course, no good murder mystery is complete without the possibility that the butler did it, right? And this one is no exception. Remember those financial troubles, I mentioned earlier, while it turns out they were bad enough that the dead man hadn't paid his servant, a guy named John Pernier, for over a year, a servant who just so happened to be traveling right alongside him and spent the night of the man's death in the barn at Grinders' stand. Less than a year later, Pernier himself died by apparent suicide, and the victim's own mother

was convinced that Pernier was responsible for her son's death. So there you have it, greedy innkeeper, crooked business partner, disgruntled servant, all had ample reason to kill him. And heck, let's not forget where we are, right? The notches trace, where bandits will shoot you for your pocket change without a second thought. So the murderer could have been any of the usual suspects, but also just a random thief simply looking for a quick buck. But the authorities had spoken. It was suicide. The case was closed. And so the dead man went into the ground, taking two bullets and all the answers to his grave. The truth is, we may never know for sure what happened that dark night in 1809.

But one piece of information did eventually come to light. In 1848, another investigation into the death had the man's body exhumed and determined that he had almost certainly met his death, and I quote, at the hands of an assassin. It might seem strange, so much attention paid to this one man's demise with so many more unfortunate deaths along the trace simply forgotten. And he might have been. Forgotten, that is, if not for who the man was.

Because, you see, the Mr. Body in our little game of clue was none other than Maryweather Lewis, that is, Lewis of the Lewis and Clark expedition. Oh, and that colleague who wrote that he feared the weight of Lewis's mind had overcome him, why that was none other than William Clark. This episode of lore was produced by me, Aaron Manke, with writing by Geno's Nethercote, research by Cassandra de Alba, and music by Chad.

Lawson. I know you've heard me mention this before, but I've got to mention it again. I have a brand new creepy history book coming out on August 4th. It is called Exhumed and it explores the roots of the New England vampire panic through the lens of the story of Mercy Brown, centuries of folklore, medical advancements, and pseudoscience. And it's available for pre-order right now. If you pre-order the hardcover edition, by publisher has a web page set up where you can submit your receipt and get a free, gorgeous tote bag. Head over to Aaron Mankey.com Exhumed to lock in your copy today. Don't like hearing ads on lore.

There's a paid version on Apple Podcasts and Patreon that is 100% ad-free. Subscribers also get weekly mini bonus episodes called Lorebytes, and Patreon members get discounts on lore merchandise and access to my inbox. Learn more about how you can support the show over at lorepodcast.com slash support. Follow the show on Blue Sky Threads, YouTube, and Instagram. Just search for Lore Podcast, all one word. and then click that follow button. And when you do, say hi.

I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.