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This episode is brought to you by Progressive Insurance. You chose to hit play on this podcast today. Smart Choice. Make another smart choice with Auto Quote Explorer to compare rates for multiple car insurance companies all at once. Try it@progressive.com Progressive Casualty Insurance and affiliates not available in all states and situations. Prices may vary on how you buy. Hi, I'm Kristen Bell and if you know my husband Dax, then you also know he loves shopping for a car. Selling a car, not so much. We're really doing this, huh? Thankfully, Carvana makes it easy. Answer a few questions, put in your van or license and done. We sold ours in minutes this morning and they'll come pick it up and pay us this afternoon. Bye bye Truckee. Of course, we kept the favorite hello other Truckee. Sell your car with Carvana today. Terms and conditions apply. Hello and welcome to My Victorian Nightmare. I'm your host, Genevieve Manion, and I'm here to talk about mysterious deaths, morbid fascinations, disturbing stories, and otherwise spooky events from the Victorian era. Because to me, there's just something especially intriguing, creepy, and oddly comforting about horror and mayhem from the 19th century. So listener discretion is advised. Hello friends, and welcome to this, my 61st episode. I am so happy that you decided to join me during this most chaotic, confusing, generally uncool, and kind of awful eclipse season. Witches knew that this was going to be a table flipper, but none of us could have predicted any of this, I don't think. I feel like I am playing whack a mole with social media. If I see anything related to current events, I just flip. If I can't get to a cat in a panda suit in five flips or Peter Murphy performing Bela Lugosi's Dead Hanging upside down, I'm just putting my phone down. I'm at the point where I want to have so little knowledge of current events that if I hear anything at all, it will all just start to sound like a language that twins teach each other. It's already starting to sound that way. So I remain hopeful that I can fully achieve this state of disconnect with the modern era. In all seriousness, it is getting rather dark here in the States. It's been getting dark for some time. And all of the intelligent voices, the voices concerned with like truth, the ones that are saying if we don't have all of the pieces, we can't describe the puzzle, the ones actually concerned solving problems, making things better, safer, kinder, they are being utterly drowned out. If the forums you're listening to people in are places that benefit from the amplification of maniacs. Please remember this and disconnect as necessary. For the sake of your dear hearts and minds and health. Now would be a good time to pick up a book of poetry. A book by Thich Nhat Hanh, Alan Watts, Tara Brock. Those are the folks I'm tuning into and of course watching the Conjuring 2 Hell House 1 and 4. Do what you need to do to keep the noise from consuming you is what I'm trying to say. It is essential right now. Be kind to yourselves in all of this mud. As a passionate lover of 19th century literature, I am pleased to announce the release of Audible's audio drama adaptation of Pride and Prejudice read by Marisa Abella of Industry and Black Bag as Elizabeth Bennet, Harris Dickinson of Baby Girl and Where the crawdads sing as Mr. Darcy. Plus Marianne Jean Baptiste, Will Poulter, Bill Nye and Glenn Close as Lady Catherine de Bourgh. Whether you've never experienced the romance of Pride and Prejudice or you want to feel it all over again, you will be delighted by the fresh performances of this cherished favorite. Marisa Abella masterfully performs the stubborn, complicated Elizabeth Bennet through her world of strict family expectations, Victorian societal pressures and her own sheltered worldview. When she meets the enigmatic Mr. Darcy before enemies to lovers, there was Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy. Pride and Prejudice is recognized as one of the greatest romance novels of all time and with an original score by Grammy nominated composer Morgan Kibbe, it will sweep you off your feet. Fall in love with Jane Austen all over again or fall in love for the very first time. Listen to the new Pride and prejudice@audible.com Jane Austin and now a little Haunted Housekeeping. As always, you know how I love that you rate my show on Spotify and Apple podcasts. I love that you leave me ever so thoughtful. Comments I reached 7,000 ratings on Spotify this week. Remember when I was trying to charm you guys into getting me to like 20? That was not so long ago. I'm still so grateful for every single one. Ratings help my show to grow. So you are investing in this creepy little space just by rating it. So thank you and thank you all of you who have joined the fan coven. Those who receive the show ad free a day early. They also get witchy content and extras extra murdery little stories every single week. You too can join@myvictorianightmare.com and hey, I have an important question. More of a recommendation request. I'm looking for suggestions of spooky podcasts that tell a story that you've liked. Have you ever heard a podcast like this that was like really original, not just a dramatic reading of a story, but like immersive, fictional and really stuck with you? That was spooky. There's a show that I really want to create apart from this one. I'm not going to stop doing this show, but I need some references. What told a story he be your GB's in a way that was lovely and why. Let me know in the comments. Okay, for you today, dear listener, I will be discussing one of the most confounding and eerie nautical mysteries of all time, the ghost ship Mary Celeste. This was a ship owned by Captain Benjamin Briggs that was found floating all by its lonesome in the Atlantic in 1872, with all of its crew, the captain, his wife and baby nowhere to be found. There was nothing to explain what happened to them except for a few strange clues that are hard to decipher, although a number of fascinating theories were posited at the time and very recently. So we'll discuss those as well and you can decide for yourself what sounds most likely. But first, it is time for our weekly segment With Their Own Eyes, where I share with you the personal haunting accounts of petrified Victorians. And today we are revisiting the haunted house that I discussed in last week's episode. Quick refresher In 1878, a home in Cambridge, Massachusetts became swamped with looky loos, desperate to catch a glimpse of the ghost of a woman named Bertha Stoughton who had allegedly appeared to the owners of the house, who insisted that she was murdered on the top floor of their house and her body buried in the basement. According to the Boston Globe, the owners dug up the basement but didn't find a skeleton of a girl. But they did find other skeletons though. It was a confounding story. But it didn't end there. The owners moved out because they couldn't take the hauntings anymore, the bangings around, the sounds of bodies falling down the stairs, etc, and left the house vacant. Luckily for us, two Victorian ghost hunting dudes broke in and lived to tell the tale of genuinely terrifying experience. This is what they told the Boston globe in the April 8th edition of 1879. We went into a side room on the first floor in the rear of the house and on the side opposite from the pine grove, hoping thus to escape the mournful sounds. But here matters were infinitely worse. Rats seemed to have made the place their refuge and they were rushed behind the wainscot and down inside the walls, bringing with them showers of lime and dust which rattled like chains or sounded like men's feet hurrying to and fro. I confess that at this point my courage deserted me, but it was temporarily revived by a pull from the bottle which my friend produced, and we renewed our determination to stay until morning under any and all circumstances. Brave gentlemen. Almost immediately a cry broke through the room, a cry distinct and human, but we could not tell from where or from what. Heavy blows appeared to be struck on the floor, which parted like cracking ice beneath our feet. And almost simultaneously, loud knockings shook the walls. But with another drink of McCormick's whisky, we were not afraid. We reasoned on each new sound very calmly and said, those are rats or leaves or birds in the chimney as each new howl or scream struck our ears. But we were not in the least frightened or disturbed. Oh, no, you bet we wasn't. Everything seemed natural and familiar. We took another drink, lit a cigar, and then we went upstairs. In the room which the Sunday Globe discussed, described as where the medium said the murder was attempted. In about 10 minutes, we heard a dull, vague, unearthly sound. Or rather, we felt it instead of hearing it. It was as if countless wings rushed by and small, low voices whispering too, as if a crowd, a multitude of life was about us, as if a shadowy female form crushed up against us with mockery in every movement. I was about to propose another drink, but all at once I felt as if I were being suffocated. The air was so heavy that I could not breathe and my vision so obscured that I could not see my friend. And yet I knew he was near me. I was pressed from all sides and could not turn or move. I heard a name, but I cannot tell what. Certainly it was not Bertha or Herbert. I was too terrified perhaps, to remember. But you must say in the Globe that I was not the least bit frightened. For a moment I recovered myself sufficiently to speak to my friend, and when he answered, he described how a young girl had appeared to him too. But she only disclosed herself for a moment, and all he could remember of her was that she was terribly sad and dejected. He attempted to speak to her, he said, but she waved her hand and disappeared. We were both terrified beyond expression and by common consent we proposed to quit the premises immediately. When we reached the open air, both of us suddenly revived and, and you may be sure we did not linger long in the neighborhood. End quote. Wow. What a wild, visceral experience these guys had. That description is so poetic. I gotta read that sentence again. It was as if countless wings rushed by and small low voices whispering too. As if a crowd, a multitude of life was about us. As if a shadowy female form crushed up against us with mockery in every movement. Oh, I love that. I do wonder though if the reporter took some liberty there in the description, or if these cigar smoking, whiskey drinking dudes really spoke in such elegant ways about their ghost hunt. I love that they repeatedly told the reporter not to write that they were scared, but the reporter did anyway. It makes me wonder if the reporter didn't like the guys for some reason. I also love that they brought whiskey with them like we do when we go to spooky places. It really does help to take the ooggity boogity edge off. Okay, won't you follow me into the seance room where I share with you the goings on in the Spiritualist society of the 1800s? I spent hours this week just reading through the Spiritualist newspaper from the 1860s and I just love every single thing about this publication. It is so extraordinary to think that Spiritualism was such a huge movement that crossed the oceans. Folks who openly, publicly shared a belief that we can not only communicate with the dead as easily as we do to one another, but that they can communicate right back is only a matter of the skill of a medium. The temperature, the lighting, the manner in which you sit at a seance. It just tickles me, this history. I have a poem that I found printed in the paper by a medium who claimed that her poem was inspired by a spirit. It is quite lovely and the article in which it is written is called Birdie's Song and it reads, this spirit song is extracted from Poems of inner Life by Ms. Lizzie Daughton, an American inspirational public speaking medium. With such mediums, the spirits control the vocal organs which are made to utter words not in the mind of the speaker. This poem was recited by Ms. Daughton at the close of one of her lectures in Boston, when she was inspired by by the spirit of Anna Cora Wilson, a child of the Chairman's whose career on earth closed at the age of 12 years and 7 months. She was known among her family and friends by the pet name of Birdie. The poem was taken down in shorthand by a reporter at the time of its delivery upon the platform, and the poem reads, with rosebuds in my hand, fresh from the summer land, Father, I come and stand close by your side. You cannot see me here, or feel my presence near, and yet your Birdie dear never has died. Check then the falling tear Think of me still as near Father and mother dear soon on that shore where all the loved ones meet Resting your pilgrim feet shall you with blessings Greet birdie once more. Oh no. Four angels bright out of that blessed light Shone on my wandering sight Singing we come lamb for the fold above Tender young nestling dove safe in our arms to love hate to thy home. Mother, I could not stay In a sweet dream I lay wafted to heaven away far from the night Then with a glad surprise did I unclose mine eyes under its cloudless sky smiling with light oh, were you with me there Free from all earthly care all of my joys to share I were more blest. But it is best to stay there in the earthly way till the good angels say come to your rest. End quote. There's a part of me that is so touched by this and love this so much. It's so beautiful. And then there's the other part of me that's so mad that there were so many frauds in this day. Was this woman honest? Was she a fraud? Regardless, I still take the words and I think I can appreciate them. They still comfort me. Regardless of the intentions of the medium, I think we can choose how we want to feel about this kind of thing and I'm certainly not going to judge you for how you feel. It's complicated, but still to me, so fascinating. Okay, allow me to share the very mysterious tale of the ghost ship Mary Celeste. My main references for today are a Smithsonian mag.com article by Jess Blumberg, a Wikipedia article, and a medium.com article by Andrea Matteo. All of my other references can be found in the show notes. In 1869, a ship originally called the Amazon was purchased by a man named James Winchester. No relation to the Winchester Rifle Company. The Amazon ship had run aground in a storm and had a fair amount of damage. And before this it had a reputation as being a cursed ship. A captain had once died on board and apart from running itself aground, it had also sunk another ship when it smashed into it. In its early days, she was a feisty lady. Upon the open seas, James Winchester put a considerable amount of work into the ship. A poop deck was added. That's not a joke. It is a joke, but it is true. It had $10,000 worth of work put into it. It was enlarged considerably. Once the retrofitting was done, a man named Benjamin Spooner Briggs, a well respected ship captain, decided to purchase about 70% of the shares of the ship. Mean he would keep one third of the profits from the ship's commercial activities going forward at this time. The ship was renamed the Mary Celeste. Captain Briggs was born in Massachusetts in 1835 to a family of sea captains and sailors. He saw many of his family members die at sea, in fact most of his siblings from maritime disasters or disease. His sister Maria, for example, sailed with her husband Joseph, and both drowned after being swept overboard in an accident off Cape Fear. But he and his family knew the sea and supported themselves by it. He married his cousin Sarah Cobb, as was often done, and after a number of successful years of sea captaining, decided to invest in his very own ship. It was actually his intention to retire and use that ship for commercial purposes, have someone else steer it, sit back, eat scones and allow the money to roll in. I don't actually know if he wanted to eat scones. I just made some lovely scones this morning and it's all I want to do with my retirement. Bit of projection there. Suffice it to say, he was tired of the sea and wanted to continue making passive income, while he likely enjoyed perhaps a flaky pastry or two. Although he decided his final voyage as captain would be the maiden voyage of the Mary Celeste and and sadly, it would indeed be his last. Look, I'm an adult and you probably are too, considering you're listening to this at times, kind of messed up content. And as an adult, if I'm gonna go anywhere near thc, it's not gonna be for fun per se. 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Go to lumigummies.com that's L U M I gummies.com and use code victorian for 30% off your first order. Again, that's L U M I Gummies.com code victorian lumigummies.com code victorian On October 20, 1872, Captain Briggs arrived at Pier 50 on the east river of New York to ensure that the cargo was loaded properly onto the ship. That being 1,701 barrels barrels of denatured alcohol to be shipped to Genoa, Italy. Denatured alcohol is essentially ethanol, but with additives added to it to make it poisonous, taste disgusting and smell gross. These were specifically added to prevent the alcohol from being drunk by crew members of the ship. Captain Briggs brought his wife and little baby aboard the ship along with seven crew members. He had another young son son who was left behind to stay with his grandmother so that he could continue his schooling. He was seven years old. The ship set sail on November 7, 1872, after a few days of stormy weather. Briggs wrote to his mother before he set sail a letter assuring her that the ship was in beautiful trim and he expected to have a fine passage. Eight days later, Captain Morehouse, a man possibly believed to have dined with Captain Briggs the night before the Mary Celeste left the docks of New York, set sail himself from a port not far away in New Jersey aboard the Dei Gratia on 15 November. It set out along the same general route of the Mary Celeste on December 4th. Nine days later, Captain David Morehouse noticed a ship along his route in the dim, dead fog drifting away from the Azores islands, he could see only three sails set on the ship, furled in a manner that would not be appropriate for weather conditions. He sensed something was wrong with this ship. He decided to approach and when he looked through the telescope for the name of the ship, he spied the Mary Celeste. He sent his first and second mate to investigate the ship. And if you would follow me across the deck of this eerily quiet ship, the Mary celeste. It is December 1872, in this part of the Atlantic. It is just a little chilly, 65ish, but the fog is thick. Really gets into your bones, doesn't it? Captain Morehouse's men will be arriving in a little while, so I thought that we'd take a look around for ourselves before they get here. Do watch your step. It is quite slippery in places. Now, I am no expert in sea barges of any kind. I don't know which way is the starboard, but I do know What a baggy wrinkle is and what dandy funk means. A baggy wrinkle is a soft covering often made of old ropes knotted together to prevent sails from chafing. And it appears this baggy wrinkles seem better days, as have the sails I imagine it was covering. I do not know the proper configuration of sails for weather patterns, but if you look up, even I can tell that the sails are not supposed to be wrapped up around each other like that. That you'll also notice the dirty outline on the side of the ship here where a lifeboat was at some point clearly now missing. Oh, dandy funk was a lovely carb packed meal for sailors made from crushed biscuits, molasses and other scraps from dinner the night before. Something essentially just to fill you up the kind of thing you have for breakfast the night after Thanksgiving. The ropes over here, here by where the lifeboat would have been appear to have been cut sloppily, perhaps hastily. And there's a bunch of them thrown over the side of the boat. There can't be a good sign. Over here in the front of the ship is the compass. Its glass cover has been broken and it appears to have been pulled up and moved from its original spot. I hope you're taking notes here. Just kidding. We'll piece all of these details together in a bit. Let's make our way all the way down these steps here to the hull of the ship. Hold onto the railing. Oh. The signature cocktail that I thought would be most appropriate to bring on this trip is just a flask of rum. I thought it would warm us up a little and put us in a yo ho ho kind of mood. Although I'm just kind of creeped out and kind of sad now that we're here myself. And I don't want to drink the entire flask. Here, help yourself. Okay. This is where the cargo is held. Rather fragrant. That is the stinky moonshine I was telling you about. The hull appears to be filled with shallow water, so we won't be going any closer. I didn't bring my galoshes, but in the light of the portholes, you may notice two of them have been opened, though those two and seven others happen to be empty. Not too much further down is where the food is stored. There's apparently enough there for another six months. None of the stores have been disrupted or emptied. And now I know it's dark down here, but if you look carefully just over to the right, you can see the ship's pumps. These are for ensuring all the Water doesn't fill up. One of them appears to have have been disassembled. Okay, let's pop back up to the living quarters. Actually, here, give me another sip. I could use a rum sweater. This is where the crew sleeps in hammocks. You'll notice all of their belongings, including shoes, warm clothes in the cubbies. Their personal belongings were not taken. In fact, it's all quite. Quite orderly. No sign of trouble in here. No signs of fights, violence, struggles. Although everything is quite damp. I know we're in a boat on the sea, but look. Papers are saturated. Blankets are more than just damp. Let's saunter through this heavy feeling ship to the captain's quarters. A bit further this way. The door is open again. All sorts of soaking wet on the inside. Captain's papers thrown around, scattered on the floor. It all looks a little suspicious, but most suspicious to me is that there should be some navigation equipment in here. Instruments that captains keep on that table with the map. They're all gone but little Sophia's toys. Captain Briggs. Little baby's toys are scattered on the floor. There's no one here. I was gonna try to do a funny practical joke where I hid a skeleton in the closet over there and opened it, but I realized that might be rather insensitive, considering no one who had been on this ship was ever seen again. Wait a minute. What is that sound? Oh, my God. Okay. Oh. Oh. It's just Captain Morehouse's crew up above us. They must have just arrived. Ah, that's what I get for even thinking about making a skeleton prank in a place like this. Okay, let's get out of here. And I will tell you what Captain Morehouse's men found in Captain Briggs logbook. The ship traveled across the Atlantic Ocean on its way to Genoa, Italy. But the ship encountered some. Some seriously strong storms for two full weeks, delaying it and knocking it a bit off course. They were expecting to see land within about a week or so after they left New York. But they didn't see the Azores Islands where they believed they would be. Weeks went by, and still no land was seen. The captain began to realize that his instruments were not giving him correct information. Perhaps they were malfunctioning. But on November 25, they finally saw land. The captain determined that they were about six miles away from Santa Maria island, which is part of the Azores Islands. But that was the last note in the book. Captain Morehouse decided to hitch the Mary Celeste to his ship and tow it to Gibraltar. Not just because he was a nice guy. But because under maritime law, if you found a ship like this, you could expect a substantial share of the combined value of the ship and cargo. It took about two weeks to drag the Mary Celeste to Gibraltar, but they got her there. When they arrived, hearings were called to determine the value of the ship and what the heck happened to everyone on the ship. Suffice it to say, a whole lot of details were about as fishy as the celebratory stew Morehouse no doubt shared with his crew before they pulled that ship into port. Sorry. I'm sorry. Straight away, Morehouse came under suspicion of murder. The Attorney General for Gibraltar, Frederick Solly Flood, believed it was likely that Morehouse and his men murdered everyone on the ship, dumped the bodies, and off they went with the ship. A historian of the Mary Celeste by the name of Fanthorpe described the Attorney General as, quote, a man who. Whose arrogance and pomposity were inversely proportional to his iq, end quote. The sort of man who, once he had made up his mind about something, couldn't be shifted. End quote. An investigation was immediately instituted and the Mary Celeste was closely scrutinized. The Attorney General claimed that the captain's saber appeared to have had a small amount of dried blood on it. His men also found what they believed to be traces of blood on a banister of the ship. Although it was likely just rust, he couldn't prove that it was blood. In fact, after a three month trial, they couldn't find any evidence of foul play. However, even though none could be proven, the court didn't fully trust Morehouse or his crew. They only awarded them a sixth of the expected payout, which is interesting to me. Like you couldn't prove that they committed any crime, but their mutton chops sat upon twitchy cheeks so long. Laws don't matter. It's crazy to me. Despite all of the collected clues as to what happened, the mystery was never solved about what happened to the nine people and little baby that left on that ship. But there sure have been some great theories, including very scientific, fascinating ones, very recently made, and some wacky ones too. So let's discuss what may have happened to Captain Briggs family and his crew. Even though the main goal of Attorney General Flood was to prove foul play, during the trial, there were still cursory attempts to posit other possibilities based on the evidence that they had. Still, keeping with the assumption that something violent must have happened to the folks on board, it was suggested that Winchester may have been behind a port plot to have Captain Briggs and his crew murdered to collect on the insurance money. He was, after all, to receive the lion's share of the insurance money, whereas Morehouse would have received a lesser, though good amount of money for returning the ship. But no connection could be made between the two. In fact, there was so little evidence for this that the insurance company didn't even investigate the charge. Apart from the fact that Morehouse's ship was ship didn't leave until eight days after the Mary Celeste. They couldn't have planned to like lie in wait for the Mary Celeste, ambush it and then kill everyone. If it weren't for some natural disaster or serious problem, the ship would have always been many days away from Morehouse's ship. This wasn't something you could plan. It was also posited in court that Captain Briggs and Morehouse were in on an insurance scam together. And Briggs simply faked a disappearance of his family, family and crew, then planned to split the money with Morehouse. But again, there was absolutely no evidence for this. It was noted that this was especially a stupid theory because Briggs was a very intelligent and respected man. He wouldn't have devised such an attention grabbing scheme. Also, he had a son that was left behind, A very beloved son. He had no incentive to to disappear without a trace for the amount of money that he would likely have made off the ship while simply eating flaky scones over the next few years in a comfy retirement. Oh, side note, I put the recipe for my lavender lemon scones in the show notes. They are the single most delicious scones in the entire world. I'm mad that I finished mine. It was also surmised that pirates may have attacked the ship and killed everyone on board. But nothing was taken, no signs of any struggles were visible. That's kind of what pirates did in those days. The point of killing anybody on a ship would be to prevent them from stopping them from taking everything on board. Nothing was touched. Another theory of mutiny. It was posited that the crew got drunk off of the alcohol, attacked and murdered the Briggs family and they left. Again, the alcohol was undrinkable firstly. Secondly, zero evidence evidence for this. Again, no struggles. The captain's papers were kind of strewn asunder, but still that didn't appear to be because of a struggle. There was also a terrible theory posited by a historian with no proof of any kind in a book that he wrote, a man named John Gilbert, that he believed Captain Briggs slaughtered his family and his crew in a fit of religious mania and then killed himself. This was so foul and based on literally nothing. No evidence whatsoever that he later publicly apologized to the descendants of the Briggs family and removed it from later editions of the book. If you find yourself intrigued by haunting, mysterious, romantic and tragically humorous tales, you may want to spend the night in the Midnight Library. It is not just another show, but an enchanting place that you can go climb the lamp lit stairs of the old Victorian mansion to the reading room where you will meet your refined hostess, Miranda Merrick and host, Mr. Darling. Help yourself to a treat from their hospitality tray and stay a while. Curl up in a window seat or settle into a comfy chair chair beside the grand fireplace while they tell you tales of forgotten lands, speak of ancient customs and haunted happenings. Make yourself at home. But it is recommended that you do not wander the halls and if you see a feral kitten, just pretend you didn't see anything at all. Find the Midnight Library podcast wherever you find your spooky podcasts so all of the previous theories were complete hokum. Let's now talk about the act of God related theories and then the kind of wacky theories which I'm sad to say are not the most likely. They're just fun. There's a theory about a water spout. This is a very frightening rotating funnel shaped column of air that can form over a body of water that appears as a vortex or spray column extending from the water surface to a cloud above, essentially a water tornado. This kind of event could have explained why everything was was soaking wet in the ship. It was determined that water came in through skylights and portholes from above. The temperatures in December in that part of the Atlantic would have been Fairly mild, like 50s 60s Fahrenheit. But this kind of ship was designed to be able to take heavy rains. But a waterspout it may not have been equipped to handle. A waterspout could technically have caused a number of things to happen here. It could have sucked the ocean water into the sky and dumped a massive amount of it down onto the ship. Then it could have forced water up through the water pumps. Remember how I said one of them had been disassembled, may have been broken by something and perhaps the captain was afraid that the ship would take on too much water quickly and so the abandoned ship with a lifeboat made their way to the islands six miles away. But maybe that lifeboat got caught in a water spout or something and didn't make it to the island Islands. In 1872 the Azores Islands were a well established Portuguese colony, so there were folks there who could have helped them but no people were reported to have come to the islands looking for help when their whereabouts were being investigated. It's a pretty great theory, but here's the thing, here's the problem. This kind of event would have caused a lot more damage to the ship. Water spouts cause ships to rock dramatically, but nothing appeared to be violently shaken. So this theory is not the most solid. Another great theory was an ocean earthquake. It's been posited that an earthquake may have happened, causing a sharp, quick turbulence that shattered 9 of the alcohol barrels, causing them to leak and seep into the ship quickly, making the ship highly flammable. And so perhaps the captain panicked and told everyone on board to quickly get the heck off before the ship exploded. And then maybe something terrible happened to the lifeboat. But even if he believed the ship to be flammable, what did he believe would make it catch fire and explode? Now, apparently, according to experts, a single spark could have made the entire ship explode with the amount of ethanol that had leaked out of those barrels. Charles Perhaps it was a chilly enough day that they had stoves heating the ship, and he was concerned even they could alight the fumes and that would be that. But I did a little digging, and I found a fascinating phenomenon that could happen during ocean earthquakes. Something called earthquake lights or seismic ionosphere effects. These are luminous flashes that are visible days, hours, during or even after a seismic event. Perhaps the captain saw this event and feared it was lightning or something that could light the ship, so they got off as quickly as possible. And another great theory, a documentarian named Anne McGregor did some crack research and discovered that the ship's previous voyage was carrying coal. Coal dust may have clogged the pumps, causing them to be inoperable, explaining why one was disassembled. And perhaps when they realized that the pumps weren't working, the captain became concerned that the ship would go down quickly and ordered that the ship be abandoned. These are all of the most respectable theories. A quick and dire situation happened, forcing everyone to abandon ship. And then something tragic. No one can know what happened to the lifeboat once they left the ship. There's something so, so gut wrenching about the very likely fact that all of those nine people and a baby died in either a quick, horrifying event. Maybe the boat was damaged and they all sunk. Maybe it was a water spout and they were sucked under or spun into the ocean. Maybe it was an aftershock of an earthquake that tipped the lifeboat. Maybe something terrible happened when they got the boat just far away from the ship that they couldn't swim back. The average person cannot swim one mile, much less six. That was the closest landmass. So if something happened to the boat, they wouldn't have been able to swim to land either. Oh, to die with all of those people and a baby. It hurts my heart. I know how dark this is going to sound, but I really hope I die alone. I don't want anyone to see, especially if it's like a tragedy. I don't want to share tragedy with anyone. I'll keep my extra dark thoughts to myself. I think maybe I'll just go ahead and make myself another scone. I will be right back. Okay, here are a few of the wackier theories. Of course, there was the notion that the ship was already cursed, and so whatever mysterious tragedy befell those on board was bound to befall them. I don't like that theory. There's another theory that a giant squid may have taken down the lifeboat. They can be as long as 43ft and weigh up to 600 pounds. Giant squids have been known to latch onto ships, but they aren't predatory to humans. In other words, they wouldn't attack a ship for the purpose of wanting to eat its human inhabitants. And honestly, I doubt these situations are ever attacks. Squids are very intelligent and curious. They may just be like, oh, what's this silly thing doing out here in latch on. Side note, there were a number of tales of giant sea monsters taking down ships in the 18th and 19th century that likely inspired this theory. But there isn't any evidence whatsoever to imply that this happened to Captain Briggs and his crew. Incidentally, I don't have time to dig into the topic, but if you are interested in giant squid attacks of the 19th century, I popped a link in the show notes about a few that allegedly happened in Newfoundland in the 1800s. So despite all of the investigations of the time and modern investigations, we may never know what really happened to Captain Benjamin, Benjamin Briggs, his crew, his wife and child. But I did find that his son, the little boy that was left behind with his grandmother, whose name was Arthur Stanley Briggs, he lived to be 66. He married, he was a bookkeeper. He died in October of 1831 in Massachusetts where he was born and his father was born. He was buried in Evergreen, Evergreen Cemetery, where a cenotaph exists for his mother, father and baby sister. As always, when I tell these tragic stories from long ago, I think it's important to reflect on the ways we are still connected to these people. There's something about 150 years distance that can make these lost souls feel unlike us. I found a poem about the Mary Celeste by Judith Nicholson that beautifully connects us not only to each of the individuals on the ship, but to me is a reminder that this wasn't just a tragedy then, it's a tragedy now still, and we should continue to hold these lost souls in our hearts, focus beyond the mystery to the people and see ourselves in their world. It is called the Mary Celeste and it reads Only the wind sings in the riggings the hull creaks a lullaby. A sail lifts gently like a message pinned to a vacant sky the wheel turns over bare decks Shirts flap on a line Only the song song of the lapping waves beats steady time. First mate off duty from the long dawn watch begins a letter to his wife. Daydreams of home. The captain's wife is late. The child did not sleep and breakfast has passed. She too is missing home Sits down at last to eat but can she can't quite force the porridge down. She swallows hard, slices the top from her egg. The second mate is happy, A four hour sleep, full stomach and a quiet sea are all he craves. The child now sleeps at last, head firmly pressed into her pillow in a deep sea dream. Then wand why are the gulls wheeling like vultures in the sky? Why was the child snatched from her sleep? What drew the captain's cry? Only the wind replies in the rigging and the hull creaks and sighs. A sail spells out its message over silent skies. The wheel still turns over bare decks Shirts blow on the line. The siren song of lapping waves still echoes over time. If you enjoyed this podcast and would like to hear more, please rate the show on Spotify and Apple Podcasts. Leave me comments because I love them so much and join the fan coven to listen ad free and for even more creepy and witchy content. Until next time, be kind to yourselves and I will see you in your nightmares. Limu Emu and Doug Here we have the Limu Emu in its natural habitat, helping people customize their car insurance and save hundreds with Liberty Mutual. Fascinating. It's accompanied by his natural ally, Doug. Uh, Limu is that guy with the binoculars watching us. Cut the camera. They see us. Only pay for what you need@libertymutual.com Liberty Liberty Liberty Liberty Savings Very underwritten by Liberty Mutual Insurance Company and affiliates. Excludes Massachusetts.