Lore - Trick or Treat 2016: Set 2

Episode Date: October 24, 2016

A Halloween treat to add a bit of dark history to your week. Each Lore “Trick or Treat 2016” episode is a collection of two of my favorite “shorts” in one place. Perfect for a rainy day, a walk in the dark, or a campfire gathering. This episode includes “In a Pickle” and “Drained”. * * * Official Lore Merchandise: www.lorepodcast.com/shop Member-only Episodes: www.patreon.com/lorepodcast Access premium content!: https://www.lorepodcast.com/support  

Just a couple of notes before we get started. First, this isn't a normal episode of lore. If you're new to the show, lore is released every two weeks, year-round, without seasons. But in October, the best season of the year, in my opinion, I release extra treats in the off weeks. And today is one of those treats. You'll hear two short tales of folklore and legend that sit on that line between spooky and fascinating.

There's a short ad in between the two stories, but each tale is a fully produced mini-episode of the show that you already know and love. Second, I haven't had the chance to share the big news with all of you who aren't on Facebook or Twitter. At the beginning of the month, I joined the producer of my upcoming television show on stage at New York Comic-Con to announce our network partner. Lore, you see, is coming to Amazon Video next year. They've ordered a full season of ten episodes, and we've hired X-Files producer and writer

Glenn Morgan to run the show. If you can't tell through the headphones, I'm beaming. So there you go. Are you ready for some stories? Make sure your doors are locked and your minds are open. Get a candle or turn on that bedside lamp, because sometimes history can be a little dark. I'm Aaron Mankey, and this is Lore.

When Andrew Harriden set sail on April 14th of 1724, he had fish on his mind. He was just 22 years old, and his vessel, the Squirrel, was brand new. Naturally, Harriden was eager to put her through her paces. He and his crew set sail that day out of Anisquam Harbor in Gloucester, Massachusetts, where his family had lived since the mid-1600s. And from the beginning, Anisquam had always been a fishing village. The Squirrel headed north, up toward Canada, and after a while, they spotted another ship headed in their direction.

This was long before the telephone and satellite navigation, though, so Harriden and his men knew nothing about the crew piloting the oncoming ship. It wasn't until they were within shouting distance that the newcomers raised a black flag up high, the kind of black flag that made sailors all across the Atlantic shudder. Pirates. What happened next was a whirlwind. Friends were cast, and the ships were drawn together. The older one was in rough shape, but her crew proudly called her the Revenge.

And once Harriden and his men were gathered together and held on the deck, the captain of the Revenge stepped over. His name, it turns out, was John Phillips, and Phillips had pedigree. In the world of pirates, pedigree meant a lot. Who trained you? Who trained them? How powerful and fearsome were they? And Phillips brought a lot of that to the table.

He had once been a carpenter, but after being captured by a pirate named Thomas Ansis, he converted to a life of crime. Ansis, by the way, trained under Bartholomew Roberts, who was known to sailors all across the Atlantic as Black Bart. He was also, incidentally, the inspiration behind the character of the dread pirate Roberts from The Princess Bride. Phillips fell in love with the squirrel right away and decided that he would take her for his own.

He put all of Harriden's crew on the Revenge and left them to fend for themselves. But he kept Harriden on hand. Maybe he wanted someone who knew the ship. Maybe he saw potential in the younger captain to someday inherit his own crown. Whatever the reason, Phillips set sail with Harriden as his prisoner. But Andrew Harriden had no desire to stay on John Phillips' stolen ship. He wanted to go home. He had a girl back home, and he planned to marry her, and there was fishing to be done.

So Andrew Harriden began to plot his escape, and he knew right away, in order to succeed, he needed help. Thankfully, a good portion of the pirate crew was in much the same position as he was. In fact, when push came to shove, there were less than ten men who were actually loyal to John Phillips. The rest of the men, though, were ripe for dissension, and so Harriden set about making plans. One of his main recruits was the ship's carpenter, a hulking man named Edward Cheeseman.

And together, they distributed some of the carpenter's tools around the top deck, making them available for the right moment. On April 17, just three days after the squirrel had left Gloucester, that moment arrived. And Cheeseman found himself alone on the deck with Phillips' largest and most intimidating follower, a man named John Nut. Cheeseman seized the opportunity, literally, and picked the brute up and tossed him overboard. Nearby another friend of Harriden's took action. This man, John Fillmore, threw a hand axe at the boatswain, reportedly splitting his

head in two. Another loyalist was thrown overboard just as Phillips himself was entering the deck to see what the commotion was all about. Harriden was waiting, though, and he smashed the pirate captain's head with a hand axe. Just like that, the squirrel was his again. All the remaining men who had been loyal to Phillips, men who had willingly committed crimes as pirates, were gathered in place below, and then Harriden set sail for Boston. The prisoners were tried in Boston, and four of them were convicted and sentenced to death.

Each man made an elaborate speech about his actions and repentance, and for two of them, it resulted in a reprieve of one year. For the other two, though, it was too little too late. They were hung in June of 1724 at Charlestown Ferry, and then their bodies were hung from gibbets, almost like one-armed crosses, where they served as a warning to others. Andrew Harriden did in fact marry his sweetheart. He and Mary Davis were wed later that autumn, on September 17th, in their hometown of Gloucester, Massachusetts.

He never served with pirates again. Edward Cheeseman was awarded 42 pounds for his bravery and contribution to the capture of the pirates. After that, he disappeared from the pages of history. At John Fillmore, the axe-throwing sailor went on to settle down and have a family. In fact, his great-grandson would be named Millard, and Millard Fillmore would grow up to become the 13th president of the United States. But whatever happened to John Phillips?

Sure, the notorious pirate was killed in the mutiny that took place that day in April of 1724, but this was the era of bounties and literal prices on the heads of criminals. So it's no surprise that around the same time that the other pirates were being sentenced to death in Boston, the magistrates there took delivery of a package from Andrew Harriden. It was a small barrel, and inside, floating in brine, was the pickled head of the pirate himself. Gifting the Glenlivet says, I know I wasn't always the easiest child. It says after everything you've done for me, you deserve better than novelty socks.

It says, the best parent in Canada deserves the best single malt scotch in Canada. Parents give their best, why not return the favor and give the gift of the Glenlivet this Father's Day? Discover the single malt collection at theglendlivet.com. Please enjoy responsibly. I bet you're very good at listening. Just a hunch, but you seem like someone who likes to sit back and listen to people yammer on about interesting topics for hours at a time.

Well, you're in luck because I'm here to yammer on about an interesting topic for you right now. Introducing Canada's first 5G subscription phone plans from the new Public Mobile. That's right, now you can subscribe to your phone plan. Public Mobile, different as calling. Bella Kish, who was born in 1877, moved to the Hungarian town of Sinkota in 1900. This was long before the town was absorbed by Budapest. He trained as a tinsmith, although we don't know much else about him beyond that.

He rented a home in a cozy neighborhood, and he lived alone. He was alone because his wife Maria, a woman 15 years younger than him, had reputedly found herself a lover, and the pair had run off together in 1912, leaving Kish to carry on by himself. As a result, Kish hired an elderly housekeeper named Mrs. Jakobek to come over and take care of the cleaning and the chores while he worked. He gave her a tour of the house, pointed out all of the important features, and walked her through her responsibilities.

His private office, though, was off limits. That was where he sat and corresponded with his lady friends. His housekeeper had seen some of the sealed envelopes on their way to the post office, but never had the opportunity to read them. And Kish occasionally brought home a young woman, but they never came back for a repeat visit. Maybe he had a commitment problem, or maybe they didn't care for him in person. It was hard to say for sure.

Mr. Kish thought that political change was coming, though, and he told others that he wanted to be prepared. He'd gone as far as to collect metal drums, and said he was filling the large barrels with gasoline just in case. And by 1914, he was proven right. World War I broke out, and he was required to enlist and serve in the military. He handed his keys to the housekeeper, and told her to take care of the place. And then two years went by.

Eventually, the landlord decided he was probably never going to see Bella Kish again, and he began the process of making the home available for rent to a new tenant. He traveled to the home in July of 1916, and immediately found the barrels of gasoline. After two years of war, it didn't take a genius to recognize a valuable commodity. So he called the local police department to make the fuel available to the government. Maybe he asked for payment, or maybe he donated it in an effort to earn some goodwill. We don't know the motivation, but we do know the outcome. Soldiers arrived at the house to take possession of the fuel drums, but wanted to inspect them

before hauling them off. So one of the soldiers poked a hole in the lid of one drum, and then he backed away. The odor that escaped was powerful, and full of the scent of decay and rot. It wasn't gasoline, that much was immediately clear, so they opened the drum and drained it. Inside, they found the body of a woman. They drained another drum, and found another body. Over and over, body after body, more and more women were discovered, each the apparent

victim of strangulation. In all, the bodies of 24 women were found on the property. The housekeeper was called in for questions, and although she didn't know any more than the police did, she did point to his private office door. The door she'd never been allowed to unlock. So the police got inside. On the surface, it was very office-like. Bookshelves lined the walls, and a desk sat in the middle of the room.

But in the desk, the police found a journal of his correspondence with over 74 women, along with a photo album and some letters that had never been mailed. Some used false names, and some went as far back as 1903. Kish, it seems, had been living a secret life. He'd been writing women who posted in the marriage columns of local newspapers, luring them to his home, and then killing them, but no one had ever suspected a thing. Of course, calls to the military were made, looking for the man, but there was no immediate information.

And then, in October of that year, the military sent word that Kish was recuperating in a Serbian hospital. Officers were sent to capture the man, but by the time they got there, Kish had somehow placed another man's corpse in his own bed, and slipped out of the building. He was never seen again. Or maybe not. You see, four years later, a French soldier encountered a man who used one of Kish's false names, a man who bragged that he was pretty good at strangling people, a man who

looked a lot like the description of Belakish. Police were alerted, but the man managed to disappear before their arrival. In 1932, a man who fit his description was seen stepping out of the subway station in Times Square in New York City. A police detective with a photographic memory claimed he recognized the man from old photographs, but he couldn't get close enough because of the crowd. Four years later, someone reported that a man who looked just like Kish was working as a janitor in an apartment building on Sixth Avenue.

Police were sent to look into it, but when they arrived, the janitor was gone. And after that, this trail goes cold. One last thing. There was something odd about each of the victims found in those fuel barrels that day in 1916. Yes, they'd been strangled to death, but they all shared another wound. Right where you might expect, each victim had twin puncture marks on the side of their necks. When their bodies were further examined, one last clue was discovered.

Each woman had been completely drained of blood. This episode of Lore was researched, written, and produced by me, Aaron Mankey. Lore is much more than a podcast. There's a book series in bookstores around the country and online, and the second season of the Amazon Prime television show was recently released. Check them both out if you want more lore in your life. I also make two other podcasts, Aaron Mankey's Cabinet of Curiosities, and Unobscured, and I think you'd enjoy both.

Each one explores other areas of our dark history, ranging from bite-sized episodes to season-long dives into a single topic. You can learn about both of those shows and everything else going on all over in one central place, theworldoflore.com slash now. And you can also follow the show on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram. Just search for Lore podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button. When you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi.

And as always, thanks for listening.