Beheaded

sky and said they were abducted by aliens. Host Toby Ball will examine the Hills story and ask the question what really happened that night in New Hampshire. So keep listening after today's episode for an amazing trailer about the series, and listen to Strange Arrivals on the I Heart Radio app, Apple podcast, or wherever you get your podcasts. Welcome to Noble Blood, a production of I Heart Radio and Grimm

and Mild from Aaron Minky. Listener discretion is advised, they say at after decapitation, the human brain can remain conscious for several seconds, maybe even up to a minute, even without fresh blood being pumped up from the heart. The brain still has oxygen and neurons firing rapidly in confusion

her pain. They say that when Anne Boleyn's head fell from her body into the straw waiting below, her dark, intelligent eyes still flickered and blinked, and that her white lips pressed together and apart, as if she was trying to say one last thing. It seems fitting that even in death, Anne would try to continue to speak. It was her silver tongue that had initially charmed the king,

back when Anne was just a lady in waiting. No one ever described her as the most beautiful girl at court, although she was striking with her dark hair and her milky skin so pale it was almost translucent. No, it was her wit and her intelligence, her innate ability to know exactly how to flirt without seeming like she was trying to flirt. Anne engaged with poets and philosophers, and

debated issues of politics and religion. Henry had loved that about Anne back when he was pursuing her, that she had challenged and teased him, but he found those qualities far less compelling in a wife. Henry the Eighth did

Anne one kindness in her beheading. He had brought in the hangman of Calais, known for his skill and accuracy with the sword to do her decapitation, to liberate her head from her neck in one smooth motion, instead of the typical englishman with an axe, who was known to sometimes take two or even three swings to get the job done. The five men accused of being Anne's lovers had been executed by Englishmen back when Henry was in

love with Anne. He disposed of his loyal wife twenty four years and come completely overthrew the foundation of religion in England along the way. It was all for the promise of being with Anne, and for the promise of the son that she would bear him. When that son didn't come, obsession soured in Henry into something corrosive and hateful. It would cost Anne her life. She had played the game well enough, masterfully really, to become a queen, but in the end there was nothing she could do to

save her own life. I'm danishchwartz and this is noble blood. When Anne Boleyn found out that Henry's first wife, Catherine of Arragon, died, Anne exhaled with a mixture of relief and pleasure. As head of the Church of England, Henry had officially declared himself divorced from Catherine, and he had married Anne. But Catherine still was calling herself the Queen of England. And as much as Anne hated to admit it, the people had loved Catherine. They hissed a Anne in

the streets, called her Henry's goggalied whore. But now that Catherine was dead, there was to be no more confusion. There was one Queen of England, one wife of Henry the eighth, Anne Boleyn. Anne had entranced Henry when she returned from a childhood in the French court, instantly astonishing the English with her wit and daring French fashion and her allegedly dazzling repertoire of sexual foreplay. When Anne arrived all glamor and fresh promise, Henry the eighth was facing

the massive issue of his wife, Katherine. After two decades of marriage and half a dozen miscarriages, Catherine was entering menopause, having only given Henry a single daughter. The Tutor dynasty started only by Henr His father needed sons if it were to continue to survive. Without a clear line of succession, England could once again be plunged into a miserable civil war. But what were Henry's options. His Spanish wife was powerful and connected. Her nephew was the Holy Roman Emperor who

had the Vatican under his thumb. But if everything was supposed to work out with Catherine, if everything was so perfect, then why hadn't God given them a son? That was the nagging voice in the back of Henry's head. After all, Catherine had been married to Henry's older brother, Arthur First for six months, until Arthur died of the sweating sickness. Didn't the Bible forbid marrying your brother's wife. Catherine had sworn that the marriage had never been consummated, and the

Vatican offered special dispensation. But what if she had been lying? What if that was the reason that God was cursing Henry with a lack of sons? And then Anne appeared, flirting, making Henry feel away that he couldn't remember feeling for a long time. He was still in his thirties, vital. With a new wife, he could have a dozen sons. Although he begged Anne, she refused to be his royal mistress, refused to even sleep with him unless they were married.

Unless you divorce Katherine and marry me, Anne said, Catherine of Arragon was banished to a remote palace and told she was no longer Queen. Henry declared himself head of the Church of England. While the nation protested and hurled insults Anne, Henry married her in a secret ceremony. Within months,

she was pregnant. All of Henry's advisers, all of the doctors, and the soothsayers said that this would be the son he was waiting for, the boy that would show that God was pleased with him and that he made the right choice. When the doctor nervously announced that Queen Anne had given birth to a healthy baby girl, Henry couldn't hide his disdain or his anger. But Anne loved her daughter,

the little girl they named Elizabeth. Anne played with her dangling fingers over her bassinet, cooing at her beautiful daughter with golden curls. Anne knew that there was still time for her to have a son, still time for her to secure her position, even if Henry's eye had already begun to wander while Anne was on bedrest for her pregnancy, while Catherine of Arragon had diplomatically turned a blind eye

to Henry's philandering, Anne became furious. She was jealous and hot headed, with a biting tongue that never demurred from a fight. But also, Catherine had been born and raised a princess. Anne had once been a commoner. She had been a lady in waiting who caught Henry's eye and usurped a queen, and so she was perfectly aware that the exact same thing could happen to her. Nothing protected her except the possibility of a son. Anne got pregnant again,

and the court instantly began celebrating. When she miscarried just three months later, it was so embarrassing that it wasn't publicly announced, just a shameful whisper that circulated amongst the court, starting with the woman who had changed Anne's bedsheets. Henry and Anne both believed what everyone believed back in the fifteen hundreds, that a miscarriage was a failure on the part of the woman, a sign of God's ultimate displeasure.

The next miscarriage, too, was another tightly kept secret, and the third was so well hidden that it's impossible to trace when it actually occurred. By the time Catherine of Arragon finally died, Anne was well aware that she was carrying what could very well be her final hope. Anne and Henry had been married for three years, but already he had stopped coming to her bedroom. He ignored her when he could, spending most of his time doating on

one of Anne's own ladies, Jane Seymour. Plain, obedient, soft spoken, Jane Seymour, the exact opposite of Anne in every conceivable way. Henry newly besott it gave Jane Seymour a locket containing his portrait. Jane made the mistake of wearing it and flicking it open and shut like a schoolgirl in love. When Anne entered the room and saw the necklace, she ripped it off Jane's neck with so much force that Anne's fingers bled. The country already hated Anne, and she

had made powerful enemies in court. By pulling Henry away from Catherine and away from the Catholic Church, Anne had very few cards left to play. The old thing keeping her in power was the child in her belly and Henry's love for her, and that seemed to be diminishing every day. Neither Henry nor Anne attended Catherine of Argan's funeral, where she was laid to rest, not with the title of former Queen but of dowager princess. That exact day,

miles away, Anne Boleyn miscarried a baby boy. Reports at the time say that the cold, still tiny boy was perfect and beautiful. Years later people would write that it was misshapen, that it had physical deformities, evidence of its mother committing some truly awful sin, adultery, incest, or witchcraft. But at the time there didn't need to be any further proof. The sun that could have saved her life was dead, and Anne Boleyn's fate was sealed. A man's

behavior became panicked and erratic. The man who had once been so wildly in love with her he overthrew the entire religious foundation of a nation, was now writing love letters to another woman. Henry had stopped coming to her bed. She was the queen, but she was also becoming increasingly aware of what a precarious position that was. When her king was Henry the Eighth, Anne engaged one of the king's close friends, Sir Henry Norris, one afternoon to ask

him why he was still unmarried. An flirtation was normal expected even if a queen. A queen was meant to be beloved by all the knightly men of a kingdom to inspire love and loyalty in them. But when Sir Henry Norris demered, Anne continued pressing closer to him in the hallway than might have been prudent. I think, Anne, per, that you're waiting to marry a rich widow, you look for dead men's shoe. Is that so, Sir Henry Norris replied, smiling just a little bit. Anne looked into his eyes.

I think if something were to happen to the king, you would look to marry me. Sir Henry Norris's smile disappeared. To even think such a thing would cost me my head? He said. Anne had crossed the line from courtly flirtation to outrighte treason. It was a good thing. Anne thought, as she returned to her chamber that night, that no

one had heard them. Another night, one of Anne Boleyn's ladies in waiting, Lady Wooster, spent a banquet drinking slightly too much wine and dancing slightly too close to one or two eligible men. The next day, Lady Wooster's brother confronted her and told her that she needed to stop her behavior before her reputation was ruined. Lady Wooster just laughed. If you think I'm bad, she said, I'm nothing compared

to the Queen. Anne has men her bed chamber late at night all the time, including a certain Mark Smeaton. Smeaton was a court musician, and Lady Wooster wasn't the only one who noticed that Anne seemed to particularly enjoy his company. Within days of the conversation between Lady Wooster and her brother, Mark Smeaton was taken in for questioning by the King's Chief Minister, Thomas Cromwell. We don't know what happened behind closed doors, whether Smeaton was tortured or coerced.

He might have even been telling the truth. It's impossible to know, but Mark Smeaton confessed to Thomas Cromwell that he had slept with Queen Anne Boleyn on three separate occasions. Anne Boleyn was arrested while she was watching a tennis match and brought to a dim room where she was interrogated by three men on charges of adultery and treason. They asked her about Mark Smeaton. Anne was completely baffled and indignant. She denied ever sleeping with anyone except her husband,

the King. They asked about the conversation she had had with Sir Henry Norris. This time Anne sputtered a little, but still her point was clear. She hadn't sinned against the King. The three men interrogating her were stony faced and cruel, completely unmoved. Her lovers had already confessed, they told her. Anne was escorted back to her chamber. She and her ladies sat down to a silent dinner. None of Anne's ladies made eye contact with her. The few

servants standing nearby barely managed to conceal her tears. That very afternoon, Anne was brought to the Tower of London. She was given no time to pack clothes or any personal belongings, and though she begged to say goodbye to her daughter Elizabeth, the guards pretended not to hear her. Most criminals were brought to the tower in the middle of the night. Anne was brought by barge down the River Thames in broad daylight, with crowds gawking at her

and shouting as she went by. Anne begged to see the king. If she could see Henry face to face, if she could just talk to him, she could charm him like she had before. She could remind him of his love for her. He must have some tiny ounce of affection for her left in his heart. Anne didn't know that she and Henry would never lay eyes on each other ever again. At five p m. She arrived at the Tower of London, dazed and terrified. Am I to be put in the dungeons? She said? The guards

shook his head. Anne was to be brought to the Royal Apartments, the very same rooms that she had stayed in the night before her coronation. The rooms had been unused since. Hearing the Anne flung herself onto the cobblestones. It is too good for me, she sobbed A cannon on the tower wharf thundered. It was the sound that rang when a person of nobility was brought to be imprisoned in the fortress. It echoed through the city, causing

excitement and speculation. King Henry, deep inside the palace, didn't hear it. He wouldn't make another public appearance until after Anne was dead and buried. The man in charge of Anne's custody while she was in the Tower of London was a former knight named Sir William Kingston. Kingston was tall and in his youth had been a strong and

triumphant jouster, even facing off against the king. He had been devoted to Queen Catherine throughout his long career, but even so during Anne's imprisonment he would only ever treat her with courtesy and kindness. All of Anne's servants have been dismissed replay eased by five new ladies, all spies who were tasked with asking Anne about her alleged lovers and her treasonous conversations, and then reporting back her answers

to Thomas Cromwell. But Anne never said anything incriminating. Instead, her spies just reported that her mood shifted wildly from wretching sobs to ecstatic laughter. Sometimes Anne would just burst out laughing and say that history would remember her as Anne the Headless. My innocence will save me, won't it. I am innocent, and so the law will save me. Anne thought maybe Henry was just testing her. He loved her, didn't he. Even if he had tired of her, he

probably wouldn't kill her. Anne was accused of adultery with five men, including her own brother, even though all of the men, with the exception of Mark Smeaton, had proclaimed their innocence the number was a calculated move on the part of Thomas Cromwell and the King. One man could be a mistake, but Anne being accused of intimacy with

five men the accusation alone cemented her guilt. When Anne was called to her tribunal to stand before the jury of twenty six men and listened to the allegations against her, she didn't dress like she was walking to her death sentence. Instead, Anne wore a black velvet gown and a red petticoat, as if she were dressed to be awarded a medal at some noble ceremony. She wasn't allowed to bring any

witnesses or have any legal counsel. All Anne could do was continued to proclaim her innocence, to offer the best defense she could, speaking with the eloquence and the intelligence that Henry had once fallen in love with. Never before in English history had a queen been sentenced to death. Henry was just trying to scare her and thought, trying to soothe herself to stave off the panic, maybe she would just be banished. The Duke of Norfolk had tears in his eyes when he read out the sentence. Anne

was his niece, his own sister's child. Some might have thought that he was crying in grief or pity. Really, though it was more likely he was crying for his own lost honor and status. He read aloud, for offending our Sovereign, the King, in committing treason against his person, Anne Boleyn is sentenced to be burned within the Tower of London on the Green, or else to have her head cut off. Anne's expression didn't change when they read her sentence. She lifted her eyes at the sky, but

she didn't cry. She maintained her innocence. I am ready to greet death, she said. Finally, I am just sorry for the others who are innocent and the King's loyal subjects, that they should share my fate and die because of me. Kingston escorted Anne back to her chambers, and Anne asked to see a priest so that she could confess. The Archbishop of Canterbury arrived to take Anne's final confession. Anne

was already sentenced to death. There was nothing she could lose in confessing her sins now, and Anne knew that if she told a lie in confession, she would be damning her soul to eternal torment. She confessed to jealousy, but nothing else. The archbishop asked if she was sure she was done. Anne lowered her head. God knows that I have not sinned against him in any other way. Anne watched from her window as all five men, including

her own brother, were beheaded on the Tower Green. There were whispers that Henry had put her in those rooms specifically so that she could see those deaths. Anne's own death was still aways away. They were specifically constructing a new scaffolding for her so more OWDs could gather and see their fallen queen end in a rush of blood. Anne turned away from the constructions she could see from the window. I wish all this was over, that the pain would just be finished already, she said to Kingston.

Kingston softly replied that he believed that when the end finally came, there would be no pain, and when that day finally came, Kingston helped Anne up the wooden steps to the stage on the Green, accompanied by four ladies. The ladies helped Anne to undress her neck, taking off her head dress and the small white fur cloak she wore a symbol of royalty. They gathered Anne's hair in a linen cap so it wouldn't get in the way of a sword. Anne whispered to her ladies and asked

them to pray for her. Unlike in an axe beheading, a decapitation by sword required the victim to kneel very tall, a right on both knees. Anne took the position with as much grace as she could, but there was still fear in her eyes and knew she had to keep very still if the death was to be quick, But she kept looking around, terrified for the moment when the man with the sword would make his attack. Madam, do not fear, the swordsman said, I will wait until you

are ready. Anne said a few words before her death to the crowd below the nearly two thousand Englishmen who had gathered for the spectacle. She accepted death, reasserted her innocence once more, and asked for the good people to pray for Henry and those who were sending her to death. While Anne was looking away, the swordsman pulled his blade from a pile of straw, where it had been hidden

so Anne wouldn't see. He wore no shoes so that his step would be silent, so that when he came up behind Anne, she wouldn't hear him, and then in one stroke, her head was gone, fallen in a bloody mass, into the pile of straw and sawdust. Waiting to welcome it. One of Anne's ladies threw a white handkerchief over the head, and the crowd watched as it slowly dappled with red blood. The Queen of England was dead. Eleven days later, Henry

the Eighth married Anne's lady in waiting, Jane Seymour. That's the story of Anne Boleyn's death, but stick around after a brief sponsor break to hear a little bit about Anne's afterlife. Anne Boleyn is one of the most famous and enigmatic figures in Alish history, and she's also one of England's most ubiquitous ghosts. According to a Victorian legend, on certain nights, if you're on the road towards Blickling Hall in Norfolk, where Anne was born, you might see

a carriage passed by. If you happen to look inside, you'll see Anne bathed in a red glow and wearing a pure white dress, holding her head gently in her lap. The moment that the carriage arrives at the front of the house, it vanishes into Miss Anne can arrive at her destination, but she can't stay. Alison Weir has written extensively about Anne Boleyn and the myths and rumors surrounding her death, and so I defer to her expertise on the subject of Anne's ghosts, on which she writes as

a historian. I make no further comment on the veracity of these stories or the existence of ghosts. Noble Blood is a production of I Heart Radio and Grimm and Mild from Aaron Monkey. The show was written and hosted by Danis Schwartz and produced by Aaron Mankey, Matt Frederick, Alex Williams, and Trevor Young. Noble Blood is on social media at Noble Blood Tales, and you can learn more about the show over at Noble Blood Tales dot com.

For more podcasts from I Heart Radio, visit the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you listen to your favorite shows. On September, Betty and Barney Hill cut their vacation short and decided to drive home. They were having difficulty finding their way around the city, and Barney decided he just wanted to drive home, knowing that they would arrive at their home on New Hampshire Sea Coast

at about two o'clock in the morning. What they saw that night in the New Hampshire sky would change everything. I began walking across the highway, looking up at the object with the binoculars, putting them down, taking my head, saying, well, this yet can't be true. I don't believe it. A light in the sky. At first, she thought of a falling star, but she realized that following stars don't fall upwards, and that's what this one was doing. Two years later,

the Hills would undergo hypnosis. How a boy did you regress that? Before? I started telling I just look back to the starting point of Montreal. A sinister story would emerge. He walk he's trying to start the car walked back. I think, well, I can't get away for this. I guess if I get the card or of like a brother than wits and hide that became known the world over.

Doctor Simon gave me a post amatic suggestion. He said, if I wanted to, I could sketch the star map, but if I didn't want to, I didn't have to. So about two weeks later, I sketched. Their account has been scrutinized. Under the influence of hypnosis, especially if you're highly hypnotize herbal you are even more susceptible to contamination

and distortion by scientists, skeptics, theorists, and believers. He wound up building a total of more than twenty three dimensional models and was able to find one and only one pattern that matched what Betty had drawn. What happened on that night journey in. Were the Hills confused about what they saw? Or did they have an encounter with beings not of this world? From My Heart Radio and Aaron

Manky's Grimm and Mild, this is Strange Arrivals. Listen to Strange Arrivals March thirty one on the I Heart Radio app, Apple Podcasts, or wherever you get your podcasts.