The Night Season

November of eighteen eleven. At first, these episodes of somnambulism horrified her, and she became despondent. When the rate of incidents increased to nearly every night, she gave her parents a solemn warning she'd be dead and would go straight to Hell. She even seemed unhappy during the incidents, becoming agitated in her sleep. These fits of despair lasted until January of eighteen twelve. One night, Rachel said God had spoken to her and forgave her sins. From then on,

she remained calmer during the episodes. Seeing their daughter's mood had significantly improved. Her parents no longer hid Rachel's affliction. Instead, they invited others to investigate her nightly activities. Observers witnessed the snambulism for themselves. Rachel got out of bed and started with a half hour of prayer. Still asleep, her breathing became labored, and she gnashed her teeth. Everyone waited As her eyes met at church elder, she warned him

of the dangers of eternal damnation. The witnesses gasped the short tirade. Then Rachel regained her composure and spoke about the scriptures she had learned. Finally, she shook violently and collapsed back onto her bed. Locals thought God had made Rachel a vessel for his teachings and possibly a prophet. Her words and pronunciations contrasted with her blesser education. Outsiders were more skeptical and suggested she might be faking the

episodes to garner attention. As word of Rachel's midnight sermons spread, people traveled from all across the state of New York to meet her. Aside from the fact that Rachel gave sermons in her sleep, what made her stand out from other preachers was her gender. Women were not permitted to preach, and those who dared caused scandals. Rachel spent her days recovering from her knightly sermons, which left her emotionally and

physically exhausted. To give her a short break, a Baptist minister and his wife offered Rachel the opportunity to travel with them to New York City. Than she accepted, the trip was hardly a vacation. They introduced her to doctor John Douglas. He and other doctors studied her, hoping to find a cure for her sleep walking. Rachel submitted to every test. Her episodes intensified, causing her to jerk, flail, and cry. The only relief came when she preached the

following days. She acted as though nothing unusual had happened. Skeptics flocked to her bedside, though the doctors defended her as the real thing. Rachel showed strong similarities to other cases of sleepwalking, where people remained unaware of their nocturnal actions. The ministers grilled her, other doctors tried bleeding her or gave her opium to sedate her. They had no effect. After a while, Rachel had enough of the examinations and

returned home. She hadn't been back long. When her father received a letter from doctor Douglas, several colleagues wanted to sponsor Rachel's formal education at Missus Bowering's Seminary for Young Ladies. Her parents agreed. Rachel's classmates, doctors, and various religious officials attended her sleepwalking sermons with rapt attention. After graduation, Rachel

went on to lead a quiet life. Skeptics and believers alike watched her case transition from a weakness of a woman's nerves to a medical and religious oddity, but she wouldn't be the last sleepwalking curiosity. I'm Lauren Vogelbaum. Welcome to American Shadows. We've all heard the advice get plenty of sleep. How much depends on our age and health, among other factors. The message is clear, though we don't

always get enough sleep restores our body and brain. Along with the advice to get plenty of rest, we've probably heard adages to follow circadian rhythm. With this method, people go to bed sometime after dark and rise with the sun. Usually we try to sleep straight through the night, but that hasn't always been the case. The how and when of how we sleep has changed during the Renaissance era, people slept for short periods, waking during the night, briefly

followed by a second sleep cycle. Often people used the waking cycle in between for prayer, chores, or other activities. Sixteenth century doctors told couples that they were most likely to conceive during this time. During the Industrial Revolution, long work hours and strict schedules changed when people slept. With the invention of electricity, came lighted streets, businesses, and homes.

In the eighteen twenties, doctors commonly told parents to break their children from sleeping in shifts called bi phasic sleep and sleep through the night instead. Some researchers speculate that by phasic sleep might be more natural than one long segment. They point to nineteenth century medical journals where cases of insomnia first appear. By the nineteen twenties, medical records discussing

by phasic sleep vanished altogether. Insomnia did not. Many of us toss and turn from dark till dawn, and some of us enjoy the night until we're out to sea or in another remote location. It's hard to fathom how different the night sky looks without city or neighborhood lights. No longer do a thousand stars glitter like diamonds on velvet. Though some of us would prefer such a sight, we once longed for a means to illuminate the shadows. Paris became the first city to use candles and glass lamps

to light streets in sixteen sixty seven. As technology evolved, cities used oil and gas lamps at night. The invention of electricity for lighting our homes altered how we viewed sleep. Light on demand shifted our awareness of our available time. In eighteen eighty two, Edison's electric light became the miracle technology of its day, though getting it to just half of America's homes took another twenty five years. We've come to view light as a sense of safety. The night

and darkness are places of danger and uncertainty. Criminals have often used the cloak of darkness to commit unspeakable acts. People associated those who went out into the night with crime and immoral behavior. Such nighttime activity caused the early colonists a good deal of anxiety. People expressed their secret desires at night and took part in lawlessness and sinful behavior. Working women and their male clients were called night walkers.

Adulterers met their lovers at unreasonable hours. Thieves, according to court records, behaved in unbecoming ways. People called the time after dark the night season, a time of danyer, depravity and great sorrow. In seventeen oh three, authorities created the Act to prevent disorders in the night. Anyone wandering the streets past nine pm had to have a legitimate reason to be out of the Townfolk lit streets with oil lamps to help prevent crimes and carousing. Night watchmen monitored

town squares and certain alleys in urban areas. Of all the people who ventured into the night, one alarmed the colonists the most. Sleepwalkers, otherwise calleds and ambulists. No one understood what caused the disorder, but many thought that anyone who could wander around at night while sleeping was capable of anything. A Witnesses said that watching as anambulist was like seeing a dead person come to life. Sleepwalkers often said they had no recollection of their actions, spurring people

to wonder about the boundaries between life and death. With the association between wicked behavior and the night, sleepwalkers found themselves lumped into the same category as those participating in illicit activities. The weaf made strides towards understanding sleepwalking. We've learned that the disorder can be genetic, caused by a lack of quality sleep, a side effect of drugs or alcohol, and certain illnesses. Yet even today we can't help but

wonder how much control sleepwalkers have over their actions. Night had barely given way to morning on October twenty seventh of eighteen forty five, when screams woke Joel Lawrence and his wife. They lay in bed listening. The screams stopped, and a loud thought followed. The sounds had come from upstairs, the room they had rented out to Mary Bickford. Undoubtedly,

she and Albert had gotten into another fight. This one sounded a little more serious than the others, though after a moment of silence, someone ran down the stairs and out the front door. In a hurry. The couple climbed the stairs to check on Mary. Joel pushed the door open. Smoke hung in the air, though they barely noticed, and Mary lay in a pool of blood on the floor next to her. Wisps of smoke drifted from her bed. Some one had killed her, and then tried to set

her mattress on fire. The brutal death shocked the Lawrences, though the fights leading up to them at Knock. Mary had been renting from them since June, though she had lived in Boston for a while. A couple of years earlier. She had come to Boston with a few girl friends after a bout of depression, as she and her husband had lost a child, and her family and friends thought the bustling city would do her good. And it did, and Mary couldn't get enough of it. She had fallen

in love. She wanted to move to Boston permanently and live like the rich people on Beacon Hill. Her husband, James, a poor shoemaker, was less than thrilled, and Mary returned without him. It wasn't the city alone that she had fallen in love with. During her first visit, she had met a handsome man with whom she had carried on a flirtatious relationship. Upon her return, the two continued their whirlwind romance. Her new bows swept her off her feet

and whisked her away to Newburyport, Massachusetts. Mary never divorced James, though she had put the days of being a poor shoemaker's wife behind her, or so she thought. Her new boyfriend dumped her shortly afterward, and Mary returned to Boston. She wrote to James, consenting to return, but only if she could do as she pleased. James tracked her down, hoping to bring Mary home. However, hope turned to anger when he found her working in a brothel. James had

had enough. He promptly returned to Maine, washing his hands of his marriage. Mary was less upset. She hopped from brothel toroel, finally finding one with more league clientell. Her beauty made her popular with the men. One of those men was Albert Terrell, whose father was a wealthy merchant and former state legislator. Mary and Albert began a passionate relationship, and he showered her with gifts. Albert soon abandoned his

wife and children. Mary thought she'd hit the jackpot. In her mind, leaving his family was the ultimate proof of his devotion. Albert's father died in eighteen forty four, leaving him with what would amount to over three hundred thousand dollars today. Albert immediately began spending that inheritance on Mary. They dined on the finest food and stayed in the poshest hotels. He bought her expensive clothes and jewelry. Albert flaunted his affair. Those who knew him called the relationship

scandalous and without a hint of decency. But as much as Albert devoted himself to Mary, the same was not true of her. Refused used to give up working in the brothel. Cozy dinners turned into fights, both in public and private. At first, Mary shrugged off the arguments, claiming she enjoyed making up with him and still kept her clientele. Eventually, Albert began escalating his demands that she quit, and Mary wrote to James complaining about her poor treatment. Perhaps unsurprisingly,

James did not come to her rescue. Mary broke up with Albert in June and moved to the Lawrence's boarding house. The breakup was temporary, and the two resumed where they had left off. On September twenty ninth, Albert was indicted on charges of adultery. He evaded capture for weeks. The press gleefully took to reporting Albert and Mary's sordid love affair. Though humiliated, his wife and family pleaded with prosecutors to

postpone the proceedings while they helped him reform. The prosecutors gave them six months, and Albert immediately left for Mary's side once more. If the press didn't have enough to print before October twenty seventh, they certainly did after the Lawrence's discovery of Mary's body and their statement to the police. And not only had the Lawrences found Mary on the floor with a severed windpipe and jugular vein, but they'd also found the murder weapon, a blood stained razor, at

the foot of the bed. They also found a man's cane and vest, along with several items belonging to Albert. Furthermore, they'd seen Albert enter the house the previous evening, and just as Mary had finished with a client, the case seemed open and shut, Albert had killed her in a fit of rage and jealousy. That morning, Albert fled the house and headed for a livery stable. He told the stable hand that he was having some difficulties and demanded

a horse. After briefly stopping at home, he fled again, making his way to Vermont and Canada for a couple of days. He wrote to his family that he intended to go to Liverpool. He might have made it too, except for the storm that forced the ship to dock in New York. On December fifth, he boarded another ship heading to New Orleans. Authorities were waiting for him when he arrived and took him back to Boston. The press

reported every move and readers awaited the trial. As far as Boston residents were concerned, the guilty verdict couldn't come fast enough, except Albert's lawyer had a plan every bit as devious as his client, and taking a queue from Daniel Webster's claim that the best defense is an offense, Attorney Rufus Choke began building his case, calling into question

Mary's character. It was victim blaming, for sure, and even though Mary had been brutally murdered, a public opinion of her was only slightly more favorable than that of Albert, and people had little sympathy for a woman who had abandoned her husband, engaged in an affair with a married man, and become a sex worker. But while victim shaming is daring enough, Choate took it to a whole new level. He based his case on an idea that came to him at the office. He noted the title of a

book on an intern's desk, Sylvester Sound, the Snambulist. Choate kept his strategy as secret until the trial began on March twenty fourth of eighteen forty six. Before the big reveal, Choate started with a different tactic. He pushed one of the physicians at the coroner's office to concede that Mary's three inch deep and six inch wide neck wound could have been self inflicted. Then he brought another witness to

the stand. A woman who lived near the Lawrence's boarding house testified that Albert had arrived on her doorstep that morning. She said he had acted strangely and asked if there was anything in the house for him. A brother in law admitted that al Albert had arrived home and said he was fleeing the adultery indictment. O When confronted with

the murder, the news seemed to surprise Albert. Choate's junior council then stated that Mary might certainly have committed suicide, since that was the natural progression for women of her character. The coroner took the stand, disagreeing with the earlier doctor's testimony, and stated that Mary's wounds were impossible to self inflict. In response, Choate diverted the court to another possibility, the

Lawrences had committed the crime. He brought in a fireman to confirm that mister Lawrence had tried to keep him from entering the room. Choate insisted that the Lawrences had made up the story about seeing Albert arrive the night before, and finally he told the court that Albert hadn't tried to flee a murder charge. He had simply fled due to his shame as part of the adultery charges. Albert was a good man of honorable character and good breeding.

Choate told the court Mary had been the aggressor, seducing him with her lewde behavior and indecent ways, and she had kept him spellbound, he argued. Choate told them that Alexander the Great had once penned an entire battle plan in his sleep, and that writers and philosophers had also done their best work while sleepwalking. Albert, he went on, was a sleepwalker. He brought in the dean of Harvard's medical school to testify that it was possible that someone

could dress, murder, light fires, and escape while sleepwalking. Choke claimed the prosecutor's case was shaky. No one had seen Albert kill Mary or flee the scene, but if they had, well, then Albert had been sleepwalking. Two hours later, the jury returned to the verdict not guilty. Unsuccessful at bringing Albert Terrell to justice for murder, the prosecution tried again with a lesser charge arson. Once more, the jury returned a not guilty verdict, agreeing with the defense that Albert could

not be held accountable for actions during episodes of sleepwalking. However, he hadn't been sleepwalking during his affair and stood before the court again, this time for adultery. The jury found him guilty and sentenced him to three years of hard labor. He lived the remainder of his life in relative obscurity, though the case lived in infamy. It seems ridiculous that anyone could claim sleepwalking as a defense in a murder trial. Yet if we thought this case would be the last

of its kind, would be very wrong. There have been sixty eight murder cases where sleepwalking was used as a defense. In the eighteen seventies, a hotel goes asked in Kentucky, drew his gun and shot the clerk sent to wake him up. A witnesses testified that during the incident, the man whooped and yelled excitedly. When he awoke, he seemed confused and immediately apologized. He admitted his guilt, and the

court found him guilty of manslaughter. Later, a higher court repealed the decision and in Texas during the nineteen twenties, esaum Bradley was anxious as he went to bed with his mistress one night. He slid a pistol under his pillow, which he later claimed was due to a death threat he had received earlier in the day. During the night, he awoke to a noise in the room, He grabbed the pistol and shot into the dark. When he turned on the light, he discovered the body of his mistress.

Initially convicted of murder, a higher court overturned the verdict due to a sleepwalking defense. Certain prescription sleep medications have come into the spotlight over the years for causing some patients to sleepwalk, but thankfully, eating has seemed to be the most prominent side effect. Since Albert Terrell's case, sleepwalking is a murder defense has been relatively rare. While we

have plenty of new medications to help insomniacs. We still have a lot of unanswered questions when it comes to sleepwalking, though there have been numerous studies. The disorder affects children more often than adults, roughly twenty nine percent between the ages of two and thirteen, with the most incidences occurring in those between ten and thirteen. A few adult sleepwalk

just four percent. A study in France concluded that fifty eight percent of adult sleepwalkers displayed violent behavior, while thirty one percent of those harmed themselves. Forty six percent became violent with their sleeping partner. Most sleepwalkers say they have no recollection of sleepwalking or the events that took place during an episode, So despite our advances in medical technology, were not much closer to understanding what's going through someone's head,

even temporarily while sleep walking. Creepy stuff for both the person afflicted and those sleeping next to them. There's more to this story. Stick around after this brief sponsor break to hear all about it. Famous Impressionist artist Jeanne Louis Boudin is said to have painted in the colors of Lavre, a port in France, the vivid mix of cobalt and ultramarine is seen in a few of his paintings, and his pastel works are said to have captured the skies.

Visitors say the area is beautiful and full of light. In eighteen eighty seven, a vacation to take in the scenery was the furthest thing from thirty five year old Robert l Dru's mind. By all accounts and his own admission he was married to his considered one of France's most outstanding police detectives, all nighters while working on a case were more the norm than the exception. Three years earlier, he had been the lead investigator on a case where

anarchists sought to overthrow the government. His tireless work helped crack the case, resulting in the capture and imprisonment of the rebels. He solved the unsolvable, Even in murder cases. L Drew often worked until he passed out from exhaustion, sometimes at his desk or en route to his bed. All this lack of sleep made him both nervous and irritable, So when he left to investigate the disappearance of several sailors in Lavre that summer, his coworkers hoped l Drew

might also get some much deserved rest. Once he solved the case, he dove right into work the moment he arrived. Exhausted and making little progress, L Drew went to bed early. When he arrived at the police station next morning, detectives asked him to work on a different case that had taken priority. A prominent businessman, Andre Monette, had gone for a swim the previous evening and someone had shot him in the chest. The lack of evidence that the scene

stumped the local detectives. La Drew interviewed Monet's wife. They hadn't named any heirs to his estate, and he didn't have a single enemy. He had simply gone to the beach for a night swim to cool off from the summer heat, and never came home. La Drew headed to the scene not far from his hotel. He understood the detective's confusion. None of Monette's possessions had been taken, there had been no signs of a struggle. Yet the scene

bothered him greatly, especially the footprints around the body. He ordered a plaster cast be made. After reviewing the cast, he sat on the beach for hours. One detective observed that l Drew seemed as though he were in some sort of trance. He sat in the same position without moving, impervious to the glaring sun and heat. Suddenly he stood and walked over to the police chief they could stop the investigation. He said he knew without a doubt who

the killer was. Before the chief could ask who, the Drew walked back to his hotel and waited. The following morning, the chief informed him they had uncovered a bullet from a German luger pistol, which is quite common in France. The Drew returned to Paris and went straight to the police station where he worked. He showed his boss the plaster cast and told him that while he knew who the killer was and he had no motive, then he

said I killed Monette. His superior wouldn't believe it. But then Le Drew told him how he had gone to bed early and how he woke the next morning with wet socks. Then he pointed out that the cast revealed the killer was missing their big toe on their right foot, just like him. He also owned the same make of gun used to kill Monette. To prove had done it, l Drew had a cast made of his right foot

for comparison. He insisted that his colleagues arrest him, even though he knew he had killed Monette in his sleep, to test out Ledru's sleepwalking theory. They kept him in jail and under constant watch. They handed him a revolver, but this one contained only blanks, and sure enough, one night, l Drew got out of bed and took the pistol and coldly fired upon a guard. L Drew was sentenced to a lifetime confinement, but not in jail. It was ruled that such a punishment would be too harsh for

someone who couldn't control their sleepwalking tendencies. Instead, he spent the rest of his life at a secluded farm outside of Paris, and although a host of doctors and guards watched over him, l Drew never had another sleepwalking episode and lived a peaceful life until his death in nineteen thirty seven. American Shadows is hosted by Lauren Vogelbaum. This episode was written by Michelle Muteau, researched by Ali Stead, and produced by Miranda Hawkins and Trevor Young, with executive

producers Aaron Mankey, Alex Williams, and Matt Frederick. To learn more about the show. Visit grimminmile dot com. For more podcasts from iHeartRadio, visit the iHeartRadio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.