[suspenseful riff] [choir chanting] [choir chanting] [birds chirping] -In the late 1600s, a small band of colonists moved north into the White Mountains to settle at the base of this jagged peak.

-At first, their relations with the Indians and their Chief Chocorua, were amicable.

-Chocorua’s son often visited the new settlers, but one day the Indian boy ate poison which had been set out in the settlers traps and died.

-Chocorua took his vengeance, killing many settlers, -Then began a dreadful hunt as the settlers leader chased Chocorua up the mountain higher and higher.

-Chocorua was mortally struck, but before falling into the abyss he uttered his curse.

[echoing] -Lightning blast your crops!

Winds and fire, destroy your dwellings!

The evil spirit breathe death upon your cattle!

[horse whinnies] Panthers howl and wolves fatten over your bones!

[wolf howling] Chocorua goes to the Great Spirit- [horse whinnies] his curse stays with the white man!

[fire crackles] [fire crackles] [thunder rumbles] [birds chirping] -To look at Mount Chocorua in the White Mountains you wouldn't imagine it would harbor an ancient curse.

♪♪ So many places in New Hampshire hide their mysteries from our everyday eyes.

But when we take the trouble to look, we see.

♪♪ ♪♪ [choir hums] -Hello, I'm Jud Hale, the editor of Yankee Magazine.

You know, over the years, I've heard a lot of mysterious stories about this region.

Some have been scary and supernatural, some about quirks of nature, particularly human nature.

But, you know, all of them tell us something about the people, ancient and modern, who've lived here and made their mark on this corner of America.

So let's spend some time with the mysteries of New Hampshire, told by some of the people of this old and sometimes very strange place.

♪♪ ♪♪ [birds chirping] -For well over 200 years, our small village has been a quiet place, a tranquil settlement nestled in the southwest corner of the state of New Hampshire, and far removed from the great concerns of the world.

[dog barking] [grass rustling] On a hot August 9th, 1918, a murder occurred in this town that so shocked the community.

It is talked about even to this day.

[insects buzzing] It all started back in 1916.

For 30 years, Doctor William Kendrick Dean had lived the life of a country gentleman in Jaffrey.

Although his wife suffered through a long physical and mental decline, life in the mountains had been very agreeable.

♪♪ That year, with relations worsening between America and Germany, the first reports came of strange and powerful lights shining from the hilltops.

♪♪ [crickets chirping] When America declared war on Germany the next year, the light only seemed to increase, as did the suspicions of the townspeople.

[crickets chirping] Many folks of German descent lived in the area, with Camp Devens nearby serving as a vital military base, folks in our town began wondering if there were spies in the mountains.

♪♪ A federal agent who worked on the case was quoted as saying, -We were out on the mountains night after night and saw lights that were unmistakable enemy signals.

[crickets chirping] I flashed Morse code in the direction of the lights and received answers.

♪♪ [crickets chirping] [footsteps] Suddenly, we were astounded to see a white flare as vivid as if powder had been burned.

It enveloped us.

♪♪ -As you know, Mt.

Monadnock is famous among mariners as the first point of land seen as you approach Boston Harbor.

♪♪ Even from Pack Monadnock, the lesser of the two peaks, Boston is seen over 50 miles away.

♪♪ Some suspected that German U-boats which had hunted the East coast and sunk American ships, could very well have seen signals from those mountains.

♪♪ Indeed, some of the lights used in the New Hampshire mountains were so powerful that many folks took them for heat lightning.

♪♪ ♪♪ [carriage rumbles] Doctor Dean had reported seeing these lights many times, for his home was built on a high plateau.

[birds chirping] And so it was, on August 13, 1918, he asked a trusted neighbor to do him a favor.

-Mrs.

Morrison, I regret I must ask you to go to the Federal Secret Service in Boston and ask them to send their best agents immediately.

I have important information to impart.

I would go myself, but my wife is too ill to leave alone.

-Why Doctor Dean, what is the matter?

-Mrs.

Morrison, you're a woman.

What I know is far too dangerous for a woman to know.

-Well then certainly doctor Dean.

I will go, immediately.

-Thank you.

♪♪ ♪♪ [carriage clacking] [bridle snaps] -Doctor Dean certainly knew something dangerous.

[crickets chirping] That midnight before federal agents could have gotten to Jaffrey.

William Kendrick Dean was murdered in his own barn.

[footsteps] [crickets chirping] [whispering in German] [light footsteps in grass] [crickets chirping] [rustling] [man grunting] [raised voices conversing in German] [man grunting] [scuffling] [loud thud] [grunting stops] [voices conversing in German] [loud footsteps] ♪♪ -At first it was poor Mrs.

Dean who came under suspicion, for she was not quite in her right mind, but the pathologist ruled her out.

♪♪ -Mrs.

Dean could not have committed the murder.

It required more strength, than she possessed.

She was too frail, mentally and physically.

They have to look elsewhere.

♪♪ -Despite the outrage most townspeople felt over the murder, the investigation proceeded strangely.

The authorities didn't order an inquest or even a complete autopsy.

And the day the murder was discovered, the floor of the barn was swept out, destroying much potential evidence.

The chairman of our town selectman, Ed Boynton, believed as many did, that-- -Doctor Dean was killed by someone connected with German propaganda, and the finding of Doctor Dean's body was to serve as a warning to others connected with the same German signal light propaganda that if they meddled, they would meet with the same fate.

[footsteps in grass] But others thought the culprit lived right here in town, someone who was a pillar of our society.

Banker Charles Rich, fell under suspicion because he suffered a black eye and bruised face the night of Dean's murder.

Some thought the injuries were a result of a struggle with Dean, however rich professed that the black eye came from a horse's kick.

In any case, Rich was never charged.

Some people thought this was because Rich was a mason and was being protected by other masons higher up in law enforcement.

♪♪ All these theories and accusations split the town and families for generations.

♪♪ Charles Rich could never shake the suspicions of others to the day he died.

His obituary called him a man of absolute incorruptibility and mentioned nothing of his connection with the Dean case.

But maybe the most important observation that Burt Ford, reporter from Boston American ever made was this: [pages turning] ♪♪ The Dean case is like a plague.

It is affecting young and old.

It has formed factions.

It has shattered the peace of household and will be talked of for generations and the shadow, will hover and grow blacker until, Doctor Dean's death, has been thoroughly probed and avenged.

♪♪ ♪♪ [birds singing] ♪♪ ♪♪ [birds singing] ♪♪ [hooves clopping on gravel] ♪♪ -Now, I'd like you to meet a truly remarkable person who is little known today.

♪♪ But he was famous and infamous in his time.

General Jonathan Moulton was born in 1726.

♪♪ He moved to Hampton, New Hampshire, as a young man to make his fortune.

He found a simple formula; present gifts to the royal governor and take land in return.

♪♪ A lot of land, including what is present day Moultonborough.

♪♪ The general made a lot of money from land speculation and apparently a lot of enemies as well.

♪♪ How else are we to explain the stories that we still hear of Jonathan Moulton.

♪♪ [man exhales] -The widow is behind in a debt!

♪♪ -Jonathan Moulton was a wealthy man, but not a happy one.

♪♪ In his time he had done many things to make money, things that might have troubled other men.

♪♪ But no matter how many riches he won, by fair means or foul, ♪♪ they were never enough.

He wanted more and one night he named his price ♪♪ [Jonathan sighs] -I'd give my soul for the riches that I deserve.

♪♪ [suspenseful riff] -At your service, General Moulton, but I fear time is running short.

I must be at the governor's mansion in a quarter of an hour.

-But Portsmouth is a good 15 miles from here!

♪♪ Wait.

♪♪ [Jonathan gasps] And you must be-- -Now come now, what’s in a name?

Do we understand one another?

Is it a bargain or not?

-Now when it came to a bargain, no one had ever gotten the better of Jonathan Moulton.

And the general was already pondering on how to keep it that way.

♪♪ [floorboards creak] -What proof have I that you can perform what you promise?

♪♪ [whimsical sparkling] [coins clinking] [shuffling] [Jonathan yelps] ♪♪ -Try again.

♪♪ Don't be frightened.

♪♪ [scraping] ♪♪ [coins jingling] ♪♪ -Satisfied?

♪♪ ♪♪ [coins clinking] ♪♪ -Absolutely, Your Majesty.

♪♪ -Well now that you know I can make you the richest man in the province, listen well.

-In consideration of our agreement, duly signed and sealed to deliver your soul to me, ♪♪ I pledge on my part, on the first day of every month, to fill your boots full of golden guineas.

-My boots full of gold coins each month?

-Yes.

But mark well, if you should play me any tricks, you will regret it.

For I know you, Jonathan Moulton, and will keep my eye upon you, so beware!

♪♪ [magical sparkling] ♪♪ [paper rustling] ♪♪ Sign.

♪♪ -Well at least I'm in good company.

♪♪ -Moulton knew his fortune was made, so he set out his best pair of boots with the highest cut.

♪♪ But as the months went by, Moulton began to feel cheated, he wanted more.

So he searched the village for the largest pair he could find and when, when that wasn't enough, he cut off the soles of the boots so that golden guineas would fall through and fill the room.

Upon discovering such treachery and greed, the devil exacted his revenge, and Moulton's home disappeared in flames along with all the gold.

[evil laughter] ♪♪ -Moulton, you scoundrel.

[evil laughter] [ominous riff] ♪♪ -Lithobolia, or the stone throwing devil.

Being an exact and true account of the various actions of infernal spirits, and the great disturbance they gave to George Walton's family, who had a place called Great Island, in the province of New Hampshire.

♪♪ -This booklet, printed 300 years ago, tells perhaps the strangest tale ever told of New England, [wind blowing] -Hadley, Hadley I’ve got the news!

-Father!

-The flowers!

Legal!

-Father!

-The year was 1682.

A gentleman of Portsmouth, one George Walton, had obtained a piece of land from an old woman who laid claim to it.

She was rumored to have occult powers, and swore he would never enjoy the land in peace.

♪♪ It began on a Sunday night in June.

-Oh, thank you.

♪♪ [loud thudding] -Hail?

-What’s going on father?

[thudding intensifies] -What is that?

-What’s happening?

[door squeaks] [stones clatter] [George yells] [faint laughter] [George grunts] [door creaks] They’re rocks!

They’re rocks, it’s raining rocks!

[wailing and shouting] -Get under the table Hadley!

Get under the table!

[panicked shouting] [panicked shouting] [dinnerware shatters] [panicked shouting] Thomas, under the table!

Under the table!

-Ow!

[screaming and shouting] ♪♪ -The family's troubles were recorded by a guest at the Walton House, who later published his account of the Spirit's actions, -Chiefly in throwing about, by an invisible hand, stones, bricks, and brick bats of all sizes, with several other things such as hammers, mauls, iron crows, spits, and other domestic utensils, as came into their hellish minds, and this for the space of a quarter of a year.

♪♪ [fire crackles] -August the 4th, a woman helping to reap was hit 9 or 10 times-- ♪♪ [birds chirping] [ominous music] [woman screaming] [woman screaming] [rocks thudding] [ominous music fades] ♪♪ Mr.

Woodbridge a divine, coming to give me a visit was hit about the hip, and one Mr.

Jefferys, a merchant who was with him on the leg.

A window in the kitchen that had been much battered before, has now quite broke out and un-windowed.

No glass or lead at all, being left.

♪♪ -I have to row all the way to Portsmouth-- -After a month the stone throwing stopped for a time, until one last occasion when the spirits had their way with George Walton.

He left to go by boat to Portsmouth from Great Island, and while on the water... -He was sadly hit with three pebble stones as big as one’s fist, one of which broke his head.

The others gave him that pain on the back of which he complained then and afterward, [gulls screeching] to his death.

♪♪ [gulls screeching] -The author, Richard Chamberlain, knew his tale was fantastic, even for a time when devils and spirits were presumed to walk the earth, and so he had many eyewitnesses sign his document.

These witnesses included several persons of note, including the Deputy Governor of Rhode Island, all of whom swore to the three months the Waltons of Great Island were tormented by Lithobolia, the stone throwing devil!

[gulls screeching] [door creaks] [door handle clanks] [stones thudding] [panicked shouting] ♪♪ ♪♪ [waves crashing] -It was the autumn of 1826.

It was long ago, but I can remember it as though it were today.

[grass shifting] My name you would not know, though this tale you might.

I had come to the Isles of Shoals in hopes of regaining my health.

Rest was my regimen, but after a time I grew weary of rest and determined to explore this place.

[seagulls cackle] So it was, one calm morning with not a single breath to ruffle the almost motionless repose of the great deep.

I ventured out.

[footsteps] I walked for a time but as the isles are small, I soon came to water's edge.

It was well standing on this point of land that I suddenly became aware of the figure of a woman standing near.

♪♪ I did not wish to disturb her, but after a period of time when no boat came, I approached.

[seagulls cackle] -Well, my pretty maid, is there no one to fetch you?

-She turned instantly, fixing me with her great melancholy blue eyes, and when she spoke it was as if I were not the intended listener.

-He will come back!

-That was all she said.

[seagulls screech] When I next saw that mysterious maiden, I couldn't help but note that the sand never moved beneath her feet.

[mystical sparkling] Of course, all this seemed strange, and I did wonder if in recovering my physical health, I was losing my mental well-being.

You see I began to spend my days seeking out this apparition.

And though I believed her existence defied all of God's laws, I felt no terror until one glowing sunset when she grew rosy and human.

Her eyes softened and my heart froze.

I ran away far and fast, but heard as though beside me her whispered hope that only later I would understand.

[whispering] -He will come back.

-It was the old fisherman whose home I was sharing, who finally told me the truth.

More than a century earlier, a pirate, a comrade of the notorious Blackbeard, had buried his plunder on these Isles of Shoals and left his lady to guard his secret.

That she did, for no treasure was ever found.

And some say, and I believe that she still awaits her lover, believing for eternity.

[whispering] He will come back.

[suspenseful piano note] ♪♪ [indistinct sea shanty] -In July of 1720, the ship Wolfe left the port of Derry in Ireland.

Its destination was Boston.

On board, a cargo of goods and immigrants.

[faint thudding] [water trickles] ♪♪ [singing] -When I was a-- -Most were hoping to reach Derry New Hampshire, and begin a new life in the new world.

[singing] ♪♪ Away haul away ♪♪ ♪♪ we’ll haul away, Joe ♪♪ [loud thudding] ♪♪ That if I-- [faint flute music] [man shouting] Pirates!

[narrator] -Pirates, an especially terrifying prospect for Elizabeth Wilson, who had just given birth, in the moments before their capture.

[swords clashing] [faint shouting] [hasty footsteps] [swords clash] [shouting] [waves crashing] -Secure the prisoners!

Bring me their money and their valuables!

-Bring me the captain!

♪♪ [baby crying faintly] [narrator] -A baby's cry.

The pirate captain set aside all thoughts of treasure and sought out mother and child.

[baby crying] It was a girl, and as yet had no name.

[baby cries] And so the pirate made the new mother a surprising offer.

Name the little girl for another that he once knew, and all on board would go free.

When Elizabeth Wilson nodded her assent, the pirate whispered to her the name her child would bear.

[whispering] -Mary.

-Mary, a woman the pirate had not seen for many years, but for whom he would give all his treasure to see again.

If only he could.

♪♪ The pirate kept his bargain and sent for a large package that he presented to the new mother and daughter.

It was magnificent brocaded silk.

♪♪ Mary shall make her wedding gown out of this.

And with those words he kissed the tiny hand of the little girl who now bore his mother's name, ♪♪ and left all in peace.

♪♪ The Wolf completed its voyage to Boston, and Elizabeth Wilson, her husband and child, settled in Derry.

On her 18th birthday, Ocean-Born Mary was married, dressed in her wedding gown made from the pirate’s silk.

♪♪ It is said that in his old age, the pirate came to visit Mary here at her home, and buried a large treasure somewhere on the grounds.

♪♪ It is also said that he was later murdered, and the treasure never found.

♪♪ We do know that Mary lived until the age of 94, [birds chirping] and died here in the family home.

♪♪ And pieces of that famous silk brocade, the gift of a sentimental pirate, can still be seen today.

♪♪ [man whispers] Mary.

♪♪ -Remember Jonathan Moulton of Hampton, whose home burned after he tried to cheat the devil?

[mysterious music] ♪♪ Well, it seems losing his home and the gold the devil had promised him changed this ruthless and avaricious man.

♪♪ Now he was a skinflint as well.

♪♪ Just how far did he take Yankee thrift?

♪♪ Well, when his first wife died and he took another, ♪♪ it is said that he put on her finger the ring he took from the dead wife's hand, just before she was buried.

♪♪ This miserly gesture aroused a vengeful spirit, as recounted in the words of New Hampshire poet John Greenleaf Whittier.

♪♪ [ominous motif] ♪♪ ♪♪ [crickets chirping] [footstep] [footsteps] [door closes] [crickets chirping] [lamp thuds on table] [crickets chirping] [cheerful violin music] ♪♪ [Jonathan sighs] [echoing] -Good evening, Jonathan.

-Good evening Jonathan, it was quite a gathering.

-Well, Jonathan, you found yourself a fine woman.

♪♪ ♪♪ [faint chatter] [indistinct chatter] ♪♪ ♪♪ [utensil tinking on glass] [echoing] -A toast to Jonathan Moulton and his new bride.

[mysterious music] ♪♪ -Lightly from the bridal bed, springs that fair disheveled head, and a feeling, new, intense, half of shame, half innocence, maiden fear and wonder speaks through her lips and changing cheeks.

Listless lies the strong man there, silver-streaked his careless hair; Lips of love have left no trace on that hard and haughty face; And that forehead’s knitted thought love's soft hand hath not unwrought.

♪♪ -Yet, -she sighs, -he loves me well, more than these calm lips will tell.

♪♪ Stooping to my lowly state, he hath made me rich and great, ♪♪ and I bless him, though he be hard and stern to all save me.

-While she speaketh, falls the light, o’er her fingers, small and white; gold and gem and costly ring, back the timid lustre fling- love’s selectest gifts, and rare, his proud hand had fastened there.

God have mercy!- Icy cold spectral hands her own enfold, drawing silently from them love's fair gifts of gold and gem.

-Waken!

Save me!

-still as death at her side he slumbereth.

But she hears a murmur low, full of sweetness, full of woe, half a sigh and half a moan ♪♪ [echoing] -Fear not, ♪♪ give the dead her own!

♪♪ -The dead wife's voice she knows!

That cold hand whose pressure froze, once in warmest life had borne, gem and band her own hath worn.

-Wake thee!

Wake thee!

His eyes open with a dull surprise.

In his arms the strong man fold her, closer to his breast he holds her; Trembling limbs his own are meeting.

-Nay, my dearest, why this fear?

-Hush!

-She sayeth, -The dead is here!

-Nay, a dream, ♪♪ an idle dream.

♪♪ -But before the lamp's pale gleam, tremblingly her hand she raises.

There no more the diamond blazes, clasp of pearl, or ring of gold.

-Ah!

-She sighs.

-Her hand was cold!

♪♪ ♪♪ -To this day the Moulton mansion has a reputation for harboring restless spirits, so much so that an exorcism was performed there a century after Jonathan Moulton died.

[mysterious motif] ♪♪ It seems Hampton has had more than its share of supernatural encounters.

♪♪ Not all of them old, the telling of the next story starts in 1963.

♪♪ But its beginnings date back to the early days of Hampton.

♪♪ [ominous motif] ♪♪ ♪♪ ♪♪ [tires crunching] -Not long ago in Hampton, a centuries old story of fear, injustice and the supernatural wrote its latest chapter.

[tires crunching leaves] [engine purrs] -Ma’am, Hampton Police, are you lost?

[engine whirring] [in English accent] -I have been walking ere for centuries.

[engine purrs] -The old woman was gone, but at the foot of the Cole family stone in Founders Park, lay a bonnet, a very old bonnet Left there, many still believe, by the ghost of Goody Cole, the only person ever convicted of witchcraft in New Hampshire.

♪♪ Goody lived near the marshes in Hampton.

Some envied her land and the sweet water from her well, and spoke ill of her in town.

[birds singing] What began with incivility would eventually lead to ruin and tragedy.

[various birds singing] It began with the cruelty of townspeople on an outing to the Isles of Shoals.

[water swishing] -Stand clear Goody Cole you ole bloody witch!

Stand clear I say!

-Eye on you you wicked witch!

-You’re a wicked witch, Goody Cole!

-Eye on you witch!

-Ye are brave today, but I hear the waves laugh.

[Goody Cole laughs evilly] They tell me your broth at home, will grow very cold ere you return!

[Goody Cole chuckles] -You’ll regret those words Goody Cole!

-Goody never could hold her tongue, and when a sudden storm blew up and sank the boat drowning those townspeople of Hampton, her own fate was sealed.

♪♪ Eunice Goody Cole was found guilty of witchcraft and spent 15 years in a Boston jail.

When she was finally released, she was shunned by the townsfolk and two years later prosecuted again.

♪♪ The year was 1656, ♪♪ [indistinct chatter] -Goody Cole!

-Die!

Die you!

Die!

-You’re a wicked witch Goody Cole!

-Die you!

[gavel knocks on wood] -Eunice Cole, you are brought before authority on high suspicion of sundry acts of witchcraft.

How do you answer these accusations?

-I am innocent sir!

[crowd sighs] I am not guilty, I am innocent!

[gavel knocking] -Be silent!

Who accuses, goodwife Cole?

-I do, sir!

my two oxen wandered onto her land and began to eat the grass, and she sayeth, a pox on both of you.

And then she said, may that grass poison them.

And then when I came home, one of them did not come, and the other one that did come died a week later.

[crowd murmurs] -’Tis not true sir!

Tis a lie!

[suspenseful music] ♪♪ -Eunice Cole knew of private words spoken between my husband and myself.

-But sir, everybody in town knoweth that she is a gossip!

[crowd sighs with discontent] -I saw an imp on her kitchen table while she mixed herbs!

Suddenly it changed into an eagle, and took flight!

[faintly] -Witchcraft!

[crowd murmurs] -I turn nonsense, sir!

I turn nonsense!

-She stole the soul of the Preston baby, and it suffocated in its trundle bed!

[crowd groans] -Is there any evidence of these acts?

[suspenseful music] ♪♪ None at all?

♪♪ Then I am sorry to say I have no means of legal recourse.

[crowd groans] Goody Cole, You are found not legally guilty of witchcraft.

-But she’s a witch!

-But, there are grounds ♪♪ for vehement suspicion ♪♪ of acquaintance with the devil!

[crowd murmurs in agreement] You are free to go.

♪♪ But mark me well, we will be watching you!

-Aye witch!

Witch!

[gavel knocks] -Thank you, sir!

Thank you sir!

[crying] Thank you!

-You witch!

-Witch!

-Thank you!

-Always a witch!

[Goody Cole sobs] ♪♪ -And so Eunice Goody Cole remained under suspicion the rest of her days.

She died in 1680, and even then did not rest in peace.

[crowd shouting] -Eunice Cole you signed the devil’s book and you’re gonna burn in hell!

[crowd murmurs] ♪♪ -The townspeople of Hampton were determined to have their final revenge.

♪♪ It was an act that not even the prosecutors of Salem would perform in their trials a dozen years later, ♪♪ ♪♪ [ominous bell tolls] ♪♪ In 1938, the town of Hampton apologized to Goody Cole and promised to build a memorial in her memory.

But that promise was never kept.

Perhaps it is that last betrayal that keeps Goody's spirit wandering the streets of Hampton.

♪♪