A (0:00)

We know you've heard a million mattress ads, but trust us, this one's different.

B (0:05)

Why?

A (0:05)

Because Naturepedic is different. Well, most mattresses are full of fiberglass, polyurethane foam and chemical flame retardants. Naturepedic's organic options for the whole family are made with cotton, latex, wool.

B (0:19)

The good stuff.

A (0:19)

Shop Naturepedic's biggest sale of the year and get 20% off sitewide plus a free pillow with any kids or adult mattress@naturepedic.com nobleblood use code noble20@naturepedic.com nobleBlood to.

B (0:38)

Save better sleep awaits.

A (0:42)

Welcome to Nobleblood, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild from Erin Menke. Listener discretion advised.

B (0:52)

Before we begin, just a very, very exciting announcement. I am so thrilled that next July, July 2025, I will be leading a pilgrimage to the Cotswolds in England to talk about the novel the Remains of the Day by Kazuo Ishiguru, the Nobel Prize winner. First, if you haven't read the novel, it is absolutely one of my favorite books, and I cannot think of a better way to appreciate it than get a great group of people together talk about the book. These pilgrimages are so much fun. We talk about a book, there's writing, you. You go on walks every day. You get to explore these amazing tiny towns, stay at beautiful locations. This is actually the third program I've done with this company. The company's called Common Ground. So yeah, if this interests you, if you think that next summer you'll want to be in a cozy English town talking about a brilliant book, working on your own writing and going on walks, you should absolutely sign up. I know there's a few spots left. Register Common Ground Pilgrimages, Remains of the Day Dana Schwartz the website is actually readingandwalkingwith.com I'm going to put it on my Instagram, so take a look. If that excites you, I would just love to be there with you. I've had such a good experience doing these pilgrimages, leading these tours. They're just so much fun. It's my favorite thing to do. To talk about literature, to work on writing, to go on beautiful walks. I just, I can't think of a better way to spend a few days in the summer. So if this interests you, there are still spots available for the Remains of the Day pilgrimage in the Cotswolds. Before we begin today's Episode one, brief content note. This episode mentions references to the murder of children. So if that is especially disturbing for you, Obviously, it's disturbing for everyone, but if that's an issue that requires more sensitivity, for you, this might be an episode. Episode to skip Mud and wet garbage squashed beneath people's feet. As everyone wandered slowly through the town of Nantes in France, it had rained all night, but luckily the rain had stopped in time for the day's planned executions. It was October 27, 1440, and three convicted men had been sentenced to death just the day before. No one, not even the convicts themselves, wished to delay their inevitable fate. And so the general public of Nantes all processed toward the scaffolds. With all of the ritual pomp and music that characterized the procession, it would have been hard to miss the parade. And before long, the number of people in the group multiplied. And despite the heinous crimes supposedly committed by these men, the townspeople walking to the scaffold actually started praying for the leader of the criminals. Praying for Gilles de Rais and his salvation. Gilles, a baron in the region, listened intently to those prayers. He was an intensely religious man, and his salvation was the most important thing to him. He was only able to calmly accept the news because he knew that he had been absolved and salvation would be possible. After all, he had done everything the courts had asked of him. He had confessed to the crimes and made his confession as lurid as he could. He even begged forgiveness from the victims families. In response, the Catholic Church had assured him that his confession lifted the ban of excommunication that had been placed on him. Execution would send him to heaven, not hell, they said. And even though his reputation on earth was tarnished beyond repair, Gilles knew that God knew the truth. After walking for two hours, the swollen crowd reached the site of execution. Gilles was ushered to stand alongside his two servants and alleged partners in crime. And he had the noose placed around his neck. Looking out at the crowd that had come to watch him hang, he would have seen familiar faces. He would have seen people who had staffed his homes, who had acted in his pageants and plays and fought under his banner. People he had known and who had gone on to call for his conviction and his death. Gilles closed his eyes as he felt the rope around his neck tighten. The calls of prayer and the juxtaposing shouts of excitement for his death faded away as Gilles turned his mind only toward heaven and his eternal reward. With a swift pull, the world went black. And Gilles de Rais, the man, died. In that same moment, Gilles de Rais, the legend, was born. This man's story might not sound familiar to you. It probably just Sounds like a generic tale of medieval execution. But if you've read any particularly gruesome Internet listicles, maybe in honor of Halloween and spooky season, talking about history's scariest figures, you might have encountered Gilles de Rais's name. His story has been misrepresented, knowingly or unknowingly, by historians across multiple centuries. And in this episode, I want to try to talk about what might have really happened. This man, Gilles de Raiz, has been labeled for centuries as one of the most prolific and sadistic serial killers in history. But it's time we take a closer look and ask a simple Was he even guilty? I'm Dana Schwartz, and this is Noble Blood. Over the past five wow years, here at Noble Blood, we've covered many notorious historical figures, including one Elizabeth Bathory. Across the Internet, you will find no shortage of salacious descriptions of Elizabeth Bathory as a ruthless serial killer who would bathe in her young victim's blood blood in order to try to remain youthful. But as covered in our episode the Blood Countess, the bathing in blood was a complete fabrication. And it's even possible that Elizabeth Bathory was entirely framed by political opponents threatened by her power. Elizabeth's story and the way it became infamous is not too dissimilar from the story story of the subject of this episode, Gilles de Rais. As I mentioned in the introduction, he's touted across the web as a brutal serial killer and pedophile who violated over 140 children in medieval France. It's an astonishing and gruesome claim, and it's easy to understand why it attracts so much salacious attention. But in the interest of diving a little deeper, let's go now to northwestern France in the 1400s to examine who Gilles de Rais actually was and what the circumstances were that led to his long legacy of infamy. Gilles de Rais was born in 1404 to parents who both descended from great feudal houses. So Gilles was set up, well from birth, with connections to powerful and wealthy lineages. In fact, the barony that he possessed was reputed to be one of the six oldest baronies in the duchy of Brittany at the time. By the time Gilles came of age, through inheritance and marriage, he controlled a wide swath of land across western France and Brittany. In essence, Gilles was somebody important in the world of feudal lords. Gilles was born right in the middle of the Hundred Years War. And given that his job as a baron was literally to raise men and fight, an important portion of his life, especially early on, was dominated by that Long lasting conflict. Even though we've covered various aspects of the Hundred Years War here on Noble Blood, I think we would all benefit from a brief, brief summary of the very complicated conflict. In short, between 1337 and 1453, England and France were engaged in an enduring battle over who actually ruled France. The war was a defining period for both the English and the French, who each found people and battles to rally behind and identify with. For the English, think of the Battle of Agincourt and King Henry viii. For the French, one name probably stands above the rest, at least in terms of the modern popular imagination. Joan of Arc. Joan of Arc, a teenage peasant girl who said that she was given divine guidance from archangels to help save the French from English domination, helped lead the French army to victory in the siege of Orleans in 1429. Now this is where our protagonist, Gilles de Rais factors in. Gilles fought at the siege of Orleans and then took part in the Loire campaign with Joan of Arc after her victory. It was Gilles participation in that campaign that led to some of his newly elevated status at court, including a new official role, carrier of the holy water, in the coronation of Charles vii. Another component that contributed to Gilles status as an important feudal lord was surprise, surprise. Great wealth, controlling so much land, affordable, afforded Gilles a not insubstantial income. And through smart maneuvering and the help of his grandfather, Gilles was able to grow his coffers. The biggest move he made was a strategic marriage which allowed him to add substantially to his holdings with the holdings that he inherited as well as those he acquired through marriage. Gilles was arguably one of the wealthiest barons in France and Gilles was not afraid to spend that fortune. He was known for living lavishly, having extravagant taste and spending wildly. He kept a large entourage wherever he went, which included, because Gilles was a particular fan of the performing arts, a herald choir and several portable organs. When he would set up camp in one place or another, he would often sponsor plays for the local community. The most famous of these plays was the Siege of Orleans, which he put on in the city of Orleans on the sixth anniversary of the battle. More than 500 actors took part in the play, including Gilles himself, which depicted and celebrated the defeat of the English by Gilles comrade in arms, Joan of Arc. In addition to paying all of these actors, Gilles supplied a never ending buffet of food and wine to both the actors and play spectators. While he clearly liked to glorify his own past military triumphs, Gilles also just certainly liked to engage in opulent displays of wealth. And it would turn out to be his overspending and his debts that would one day get him into trouble. By 1429, Gilles de Rais was a marshal of France. He had achieved a great measure of status and money and could retire to his various estates to spend his days putting on plays or finding other ways to spend his fortune. And if that's all he had done, this episode would end here. But as you probably know, we've only just begun. As I alluded to, Gilles de Rais had a habit of overspending, and at a certain point, he started selling off properties to pay off his debts. In 1440, he decided to sell the castle of St Etienne de Mermort in Brittany. The nobleman who bought the castle entrusted the keys to his brother, a priest. Seems like a normal real estate transaction so far, except Gilles decided that he actually wanted the castle back so that he could sell it to his cousin. So on a Sunday in early May 1440, Gilles and a retinue of 60 horsemen stormed into the parish church where the key holding priest was leading mass. And he threatened to kill the priest if he did not surrender the castle to him. The vigilante group led by Gilles dragged the priest to the castle gates and forced him to open the gates for them. Once the priest opened the gates and allowed them to take the castle, they chained the priest up in the dungeon and beat him. Now, this assault was a pretty brazen act, but local authorities might have overlooked it. Given Gilles status, however, he and his gang had accosted a priest and doing so violated ecclesiastical immunity, which should have protected the priest from that exact sort of thing from happening. Therefore, the church had grounds to bring Gilles to court. Now, ecclesiastical courts, as well as the local courts or parliaments, operated on the inquisitorial system at the time, where the judges were active fact seekers as opposed to impartial referees. So when the church did indeed decide to charge Gilles, they began an investigation into him. Bishop Jean de Malestroit set off on that investigation, beginning in the parish of Notre Dame, which was home to Gilles main residence. The bishop spoke with a multitude of people in the region during the investigation, and in doing so, he discovered that there were a number of missing children who were almost all ridiculous, rumored to have been kidnapped, sexually assaulted and killed by Gilles. Parents and acquaintances of these missing children supposedly spoke to the bishop and confirmed these rumors had been swirling about for some time now. While local townspeople were willing to accuse Gilles, they weren't necessarily willing to testify in court. The bishop was able to overcome that issue once he found former servants of Gilles who would testify in court that he had indeed murdered hundreds of children. The servants claimed that Gilles forced them to help him murder and then dispose of the bodies in a myriad of ways. Whether these servants were compelled to testify against their former employer because of a sense of justice for the murdered, or because of the threat of torture by the bishop, we can't know for sure. During his investigation, the bishop also found a magician whom Gilles had allegedly employed and who would testify that he had helped Gilles participate in alchemy and seances. Summoning a demon, while unrelated to the murders, using alchemy definitely made Gilles look all the more guilty. If he was willing to transgress against God in one way, he probably transgressed in others. With sufficient witnesses now at the ready, the bishop brought charges against Gilles for not only the kidnapping and abuse of a priest, but also, quote, witchcraft, sexual misconduct and homicide. On September 13, 1440, the trial of Gilles de Rais began. Actually, the two trials of Gilles began while the Church had begun the investigation. The civil courts had also elected to charge him with murder and kidnapping. So once he was charged by both court courts, the trials proceeded simultaneously, as if they were just one case. From the moment the case began, Gilles went on the offensive. He attacked the judges, calling them simoniacs, an insult back then, and questioning their right to try him. The courts did not take kindly to those insults, and the Church, promptly excommunicated, communicated Gilles. Two days later, Gilles returned to court and made a complete 180 degree turn. Now he was entirely repentant and apologetic. He accepted the charges, but because he had not yet confessed, the case proceeded. The bulk of the trial was hearing testimony. All of the testimony provided was from former servants of Gillespie that the Bishop had identified in his investigation. Over the next several days in court, these former servants, some of whom were charged as accomplices, detailed Gilles sins, attempted deals with demons to avoid prosecution for financial woes, making servants procure victims by kidnapping young children from poor families and finding sexual gratification from torturing and killing these children. I won't go into further detail about the sexual details of the crimes and murders, because that seems gratuitous and unnecessary. But that's what the testimony laid bare. While the court is inconsistent with the numbers, historians agree that Jill was ultimately accused of killing more than 140, 40 children in the span of only a couple of years. Finally, it came time in the case for the court to torture Gilles in order to draw out his much desired confession. But Gilles stepped forward and proclaimed that he would give his testimony, the unvarnished truth, willingly. And so he was saved from the type of torture that he was accused of enacting on hundreds of children. After providing his testimony and confession in the privacy of the court, Gilles staged a rather over the top public confession in the vernacular, so that any and everyone could hear and understand it. On October 22, Gilles held nothing back, and he told the world that what he had done would be enough to convict 10,000 men. He agreed that everything people had testified against him was true and that he derived pleasure from all of the sins he committed. He finished by asking God and the parents of the murdered children to forgive him. His unequivocal confession must have stunned the audience. I doubt anyone expected someone to openly admit admit to such depravity. As soon as Gilles de Rais confessed, his trial concluded. And interestingly, his excommunication was rescinded. That's important, so we'll be talking a little more about that later. Gilles and his two accomplices, the two who had actually testified against him, were sentenced to be hanged and then burned at the stake. As I explored in the opening of this episode, the criminals were paraded through Nantes to their hanging on October 26, less than two weeks after the trial had begun. With his death, Gilles de Rais name went down in infamy. Historians proclaimed him to be a violent rapist and sadistic murderer, the likes of who could be compared to Jeffrey Dahmer. And his depravity is that much more fascinating when juxtaposed with his more youthful days spent fighting alongside France's literal patron saint, Joan of Arc. No wonder Gilles invites such fascination and regularly appears on lists of the worst serial killers in history. But what if I told you Gilles de Rais was possibly innocent? Gilles de Rais's legacy is still hotly debated, but some historians have argued that he was framed by the Church and guilty of no wrongdoings at all. In fact, after a French book published in 1992 proclaimed Gilles innocence, a retrial was called and the Court of Cassation, highest court of appeals in France, exonerated him. So officially, Gilles has been cleared of all charges, although scholars called into question the accuracy and research that was used in that symbolic proceeding. In addition to the lawyers at the retrial, scholars like Thomas A. Fouj and Margot K. Juby have pointed out a number of issues with the original case against Gillespie, as well as challenges to the historical scholarship surrounding the French noble that have been accepted as fact. The biggest flaw in the original trial was that There was no physical evidence against Gilles. His main crime was killing hundreds of children. But there were no bodies, skeletons or bones found that pointed toward Gilles as a killer. All of the evidence leveled against him was circumstantial entirely. Testimony from people that couldn't be corroborated. So no one even had proof that the missing children were actually dead. Now, it's true that Gilles himself did confess to his crimes and was quite explicit about the extremely brutal acts he committed and the pleasure he allegedly derived from them. So even if there were no bodies found, we could believe that Gilles de Rais was a murderer because he admitted it. However, Thomas A. Fouj made the argument that we should be at least a little skeptical of that confession. By all accounts, Gilles was an incredibly religious man. Remember how I mentioned earlier that Gilles spent his money with no sense of limit? Well, as part of his expression of his faith, he bankrolled a private chapel as well as that chapel's own dean, vicar, choir, school of music, archdeacons, curates, treasurer, chapter and a schoolmaster. Beyond paying for this expensive display of piety, he regularly attended church and showed a devotion to the cult of holy innocence. So Fuj hypothesizes that after Gilles was excommunicated, early in the trial, he began to negotiate. He was confronted with the fact that he could very well be found guilty. And if he were killed at that point, he would no longer go to heaven in order to save his soul. In the two days after his excommunication, Gilles agreed to confess if the church would vacate his excommunication. The church followed through on that promise. And after Gilles was found guilty, they rescinded his excommunication and Gilles could once again be assured of his entrance to heaven. Fuj further argues that Gilles confession to the public was so gratuitous because he was trying to make it seem seem unbelievable. He made such an incredible confession that no one should believe it, therefore saving his reputation, at least in theory. Unfortunately, we can't know if the townspeople at the time would have interpreted his confession that way. And if that was Gilles plan, it backfired spectacularly. Given that we've accepted the truth of his confession for hundreds of years, the final reason why some historians now believe in Gilles possible innocence is that the historical record has misrepresented his court case. Margot K. Juby, biographer of Gilles, found multiple accusations, like the murder of the three children of Gilles Valet, that don't exist in the original court transcript. Historians have used examples like that for for evidence, when in reality A lot of Gilles narrative has become something of a historical game of telephone. So was he innocent? Were the crimes at least possibly exaggerated? All of that raises the question of why. Why would Gilles de Rais be framed? There's no conclusive answer, but people have hypothesized a couple of different reasons. First, people love a salacious story, which means that it only makes sense that over the centuries, the details of Gilles de Rais's case would become bigger, more exaggerated, and more lurid. Aside from that, recall that fewer than 10 years before Gilles trial, his comrade in arms, Joan of Arc, was similarly found guilty of and executed on charges of heresy. Some scholars have wondered if his association with the future saint might have contributed to his downfall. Others have dismissed that idea, instead pointing to more selfish reasons. Gilles de Rais was a wealthy man, and if he was found guilty of such a terrible crime, his lands would not be passed to his heirs, but would instead be forfeited. And who stood to benefit from that guilt? The very officials who charged him. But none of that can be proven, at least not with the historical records currently known to us. So, unfortunately, we have to accept that we may never know the exact machinations that took down one of the wealthiest lords in medieval France. The historians who claim that Gilles de Rais was indeed guilty of those heinous crimes aren't purposefully obscuring the past. If you looked strictly at what survived in the written record, it is extremely easy to come to that conclusion. But history is complicated, and who knows what evidence might have been lost to the centuries as to the true fate of Gilles de Rais's soul? God only knows. Keep listening after a brief sponsor break to hear about the colorful literary figure that Gilles de Rais might have inspired. I live in Los Angeles, but I absolutely love Fall. Here is a very incomplete list of things that I love as fall comes around. Going to a pumpkin patch.