Transcript of The Possessed Nuns of Loudun

For 2 hours, staring out at nothing, completely undeterred by the raindrops pelting her face. This is Jeanne des Anges, the mother superior of the Ursuline convent. And this isn't the first strange thing Jeanne has done lately. She's been acting unlike herself for the past few months. Saying horrible, blasphemous things. Harming herself. Why? Because she's allegedly possessed by demons.

Jeanne's claims of possession are taken seriously. She's already been through round after round of exorcisms. Priests come from all over France to see her and the other nuns at her convent, many of whom are quite literally dealing with their own demons. And yet, their affliction still has not lifted. The devil remains in Loudun, and nobody can seem to banish him. According to Jeanne, the blame lies with one mortal man: Father Urbain Grandier.

If Jeanne is to be believed, Urbain isn't a simple parish priest. He's the sorcerer who invited the demons into a house of God. While Jeanne stands there outside in the rain, water cascading down her face, she suddenly... snaps out of it. She looks back toward the convent, hoists up her gown around her, and races back inside. She doesn't stop until she bangs down the door of the King's Counselor, a man sent there by Louis XIII himself to investigate Father Urbain.

Jeanne throws herself at the counselor's feet, begging him to listen to her. She wants to confess something to him. Even though he's not an ordained priest, the counselor agrees to hear her out. She tells him, "Father Urbain is innocent. He's no sorcerer. It was all a lie." She then runs back out to the courtyard. She takes the loose end of the rope, still hanging around her neck, and throws it over the branch of a tree. She's trying to hang herself.

Before she can, others grab her and pull her away. In the light of day, Jeanne will go back to her old story, because the clergy surrounding her tells her it was the demons talking. It was the demons making her act that way. For the rest of her life, Jeanne will maintain the possessions are real and that Urbain Grandier is responsible for inviting evil into Loudun.

In 1634, Urbain is burned at the stake. However, there are those who are convinced of Urbain's innocence even at that time. They don't believe Jeanne's claims. They suspect she's actually obsessed with Father Urbain, and that she is being used by some of his most powerful enemies. Men in high places, who have good reason to invent a fantastical tale of demons invading a small convent in the French countryside.

Because they want Urbain Grandier gone. For good. Welcome to Conspiracy Theories, a Spotify podcast. I'm Carter Roy. New episodes come out every Wednesday. It's October, and that means for the next month, we'll be investigating the truth behind four of the eeriest conspiracies out there. We would love to hear from you, so if you're listening on the Spotify app, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Or check us out on Instagram @TheConspiracyPod.

This episode includes discussions of torture and death. Consider this when deciding how and when you'll listen. Stay with us.

There is no treatment. Doctors are useless. In fact, many of them actually move away, seeking refuge in their country homes far from the sweeping contagion. By the end of the summer, the plague is winding down, and another affliction supposedly takes over Loudun. This one begins in a convent full of 17 young Ursuline nuns and the startling claims made by their mother superior, 30-year-old Jeanne des Anges, the trusted and respected leader.

On the morning of September 22nd, 1632, Jeanne tells her sisters about a disturbing visit the previous night. She claims that a man appeared to her. He was a priest. She recognized him as prior Mousseau, who used to be their old chaplain at the convent. And the problem with that is Mousseau died not long ago. Jeanne says Mousseau's spirit asked her to pray for him. When Jeanne finishes her story, two of the other nuns say, "Well, they too saw their dead chaplain the previous night."

One says Mousseau spent three hours in her room. He told her he was in great pain. He offered her a book and begged her to take it, and when she refused, he wept on her bed until he suddenly vanished into thin air. A couple of nights later, according to the nuns, a mysterious black ball appears in the convent, rolling around as if pushed by unseen hands. It physically attacks some of the sisters, leaving them bruised.

More and more of the Ursulines begin to hear voices or disembodied laughter. Sometimes they discover visible injuries on their bodies. Proof, they say, of some violent, invisible assailant who won't leave them alone. On October 1st, while sitting and talking with the others, Jeanne suddenly feels something in her hand. She opens it to find three small thorns from a hawthorn bush. She has no idea how they got there, she says.

With so many unexplained events in the past week, she decides to bring the hawthorns to the attention of the priests. Reportedly, they suggest that Jeanne burn the thorns, but once she does, Jeanne is no longer a bystander to visions and external forces. Now the evil seems to find its way in. From that point on, Jeanne is often racked by violent convulsions. She appears to lose control of her own body.

At night, she continues to have vivid dreams and visions. In some of them, Father Mousseau continues to visit her, but now he's begun morphing into somebody else. When she conveys these visions to her new chaplain, Father Mignon, he declares right away that he knows what is happening. He says, "This is clearly the work of the devil." Jeanne can't control herself because a demon has invaded her soul, and it's high time.

They call for an exorcism. Mignon gathers a small team. On October 5th, they put Jeanne through the first of what will be many exorcisms across multiple years. Priests shout at her in Latin, commanding the demon inside her to speak, to give its name, to get out of Jeanne's body. Throughout the proceedings, Jeanne writhes around as if in pain, shouting, "I burn! I burn!"

Her face contorts. She gnashes her teeth, shattering two of them in the process. She shouts obscenities and bears her legs. A massive taboo at this time, especially for a nun. After days of coaxing, Jeanne's demon does speak through her. His name is Asmodeus, and he's not alone. Apparently, seven demons in total have taken up residence inside the mother superior.

When some of the other nuns are treated to exorcisms, they too reveal multiple demons. Although, of course, nobody has as many as Jeanne. The exorcisms are quite the spectacle, unlike anything the small town has ever seen. They begin to draw the attention of the local clergymen, many of whom watch Jeanne acting in this way and weep for her. They think, "Only a demon could do that." But they cannot fathom how a woman of God could be doing this of her own volition.

Day after day, Jeanne's exorcists interrogate her demons. "Who did this to Jeanne? Who invited the demons in? Who summoned them? Who made this pact? Surely it wasn't our mother superior." On October 11th, the demons, speaking through Jeanne, finally give their answer. They admit there's a sorcerer in Loudun. He's to blame for the wave of possessions spreading through the convent.

And his name is Father Urbain Grandier. Now, let's take a moment here. Jeanne has never met Urbain Grandier in her life. He does live in Loudun. He's a parish priest at the nearby Saint Pierre de Marché, or Saint Peter's Church. So you'd think they probably run in the same circle. But according to records, he's never visited the Ursuline convent or spoken to Jeanne face to face. And yet, when Jeanne accuses him, the general reaction among the priests is probably, "Yeah, I bet it is that guy."

Because it's not much of a stretch to say that Urbain is the most controversial figure in town. Not everybody dislikes him, but the enemies he has made are powerful and well-connected. And we'll dig into that later. But in a nutshell, he has a reputation as the Lothario of Loudun. Far from living a celibate life, Urbain is known as a ladies' man, a womanizer, a seducer. And while some of that reputation is based on idle gossip, it's also not untrue.

At any rate, the same day that Jeanne accuses Urbain of sorcery, a strange event occurs at the convent. The nuns find a bouquet of roses left anonymously on their front stoop. And what do you do when you pick up a bouquet of roses? You smell them, which is exactly what the sisters do. When Jeanne takes a whiff of the flowers, she immediately falls into convulsions. She twists, she contorts, she cries out for Father Urbain. The rest of the nuns follow suit.

They fall like dominoes, writhing and screaming his name. The madness only escalates from there. According to contemporary reports, some of the nuns climb trees. A few even make it up onto the roof. They're trying to claw their way out onto the streets. They're trying to get to Urbain. It's like the roses have poisoned them, and they're on some deranged kind of love potion. Some of the women stay up on the roof for days without food.

They're too lovesick to eat. It honestly sounds like an unbelievable sight to behold. One that would maybe invite some doubt as to what's really going on within the walls of Jeanne's convent. I mean, nuns climbing trees and calling out for a priest who, by the way, is said to be a mustachioed hunk. But apparently, the priests, especially those who are acting as the nuns' exorcists, see this incident as proof.

It's a professional heads up. Like, I don't know if you guys have heard, but there's an evil sorcerer in town, so get your prosecuting hats on. Now, lucky for Urbain, he's friendly with the same magistrates. Most of them are Huguenots or French Protestants. They make up the majority of the town's population. But that doesn't mean the clergy gets along with them. It's only been a few decades since the Huguenots and the Catholics were spilling each other's blood in the streets.

Things may have gotten less violent, but that doesn't mean everyone likes each other. Urbain has always had a good relationship with the Huguenots in town. At the moment, that works to his advantage. He lodges petitions against the exorcisms. He claims his enemies are trying to tarnish his not-so-stellar reputation. Urbain likely understands that the courts can't interfere with what the church is doing, but perhaps he can try to stall an official investigation and buy himself some time.

Either his friends in high places will help him, or, hey, maybe interest in the exorcisms will peter out. Except the opposite becomes true. As 1632 comes to a close, word gets out about the haunted nuns of Loudun. At some point, the public is actually invited to start viewing live exorcisms. The morbidly curious crowd into the streets or inside churches. Stages are hastily built so the growing audiences can see the nuns bound to makeshift beds.

People travel from all across Europe to watch Jeanne and the others speak in demonic voices. And that seems to be the state of things for much of 1633. The exorcisms continue to the horror and delight of tourists. Jeanne is a rising star, and Urbain fights to have his name cleared. If things had gone on like this, well, who knows what would have happened? But in November 1633, a little over a year after this whole debacle began, the king intervenes.

The Baron Le Bardemont is one of King Louis XIII's counselors. He's originally sent to Loudun for a completely unrelated reason. The king wants to tear down the old castle. While Le Bardemont is in town, all he hears about are the demonic possessions. I mean, they are on everyone's mind. And I get it. It's hard to make small talk about the weather when there are exorcisms going on down the street. Oh, yeah. I hear that they're going to be naming a new demon today. I think I might go check that out.

Now, Le Bardemont is an extremely dutiful guy. He takes his job very seriously. He's there to tear down a castle, and that castle is getting torn down. But he also happens to have prior experience in witch trials. And hey, I mean, how different can possessions really be? So when he hears about the live exorcisms, he has to see one for himself. After watching one, he walks away a believer. He feels awful for the nuns, and he has the ability, nay, the duty to help them.

When Le Bardemont returns to Paris, he brings all this information to King Louis XIII. In turn, the king bestows his faithful counselor with the absolute power to investigate Urbain Grandier for sorcery and to carry out his trial. He can attend exorcisms. He can deny appeals. He can prosecute accomplices should any turn up. Basically, Le Bardemont is now running the show, and he treats this task like his own personal crusade.

One of his first orders of business is to arrest Urbain. Shortly after, the priest's home is searched, and evidence is taken into custody, including a treatise written by Urbain. It's a lengthy discourse on his personal philosophy that priests should not have to be celibate. He actually has a lot to say on the subject, but his argument boils down to this. He says, "Sex is the natural order of things.

Why would priests be given the same passion and desire as everyone else if we're not meant to act on them?" In addition to the treatise, authorities confiscate two dirty poems. Oh, yeah, we're going to need to take these in evidence. Just go ahead and put that in my satchel. I'll look over it later. It's not exactly proof of a pact with Satan, but it does seem to back up years of gossip that Urbain is a lustful seducer.

In February of 1634, Father Urbain is interrogated over his alleged role in the possessions. For eight days, he endures intense questioning. For the most part, though, he doesn't say a word. That April, he's moved into a boarded-up, locked-up room in a private residence. His new jail cell is guarded by a man named, and this is true, Sergeant Bottom, which ironically translates to Sergeant Good Times.

Meanwhile, the public exorcisms continue. Yeah, that's right. The nuns still are not cured, even though Urbain, the supposed sorcerer, is now in prison. And even though they've endured countless exorcisms at this point, the demons are still in charge. These days, the nuns are often subjected to two exorcisms per day. It honestly seems torturous for the women, but the rigorous schedule is also convenient for those live audiences looking for a thrilling show.

Here's how a few witness accounts describe the scene. At the start of an exorcism, one or more of the sisters are tied down on benches or mattresses. In thundering voices, priests command the demons in Latin until the nuns' faces contort, and they begin to speak as the demons with names like Labellon and Leviathan and Pollution. The crowds watch, mesmerized.

Witnesses swear that the nuns become unrecognizable. Some insist they've seen a sister's eyes change color as a demon comes and goes. The nuns stare out at the audience, unblinking. Swollen tongues loll out of their mouths. They fall into convulsions so violent that their heads appear to touch their chests and spines as they whip back and forth. They arch and twist in unnatural positions until the soles of their feet reach up towards their heads.

And the things that come out of those nuns' mouths, they quote, "made use of expressions so indecent as to shame the most debauched of men." They expose their bodies in ways that would have astonished the inmates of the lowest brothel in the country. And then the demons retreat. Not gone forever, just temporarily till the next show. And the nuns will appear to wake up as if from a dream, claiming they have no memory of anything that happened while the demon was in charge.

Sounds like quite the show. But modern accounts have a few caveats to add to those reports. For example, the exorcists seem blown away when Jeanne, the mother superior, can converse in Latin, or they don't believe she would be fluent in the language like they are. Except she comes from a well-educated family. She's been a Catholic nun for most of her adulthood. And when speaking as one of her seven demons, it doesn't sound like she is fluent.

She barks out short phrases, often on repeat. Once a priest attempts to converse with a possessed Jeanne in Hebrew, he commands her demon to answer him in the same language. Why? Because the church believes that the ability to speak a language that she wouldn't normally know is hard proof of a demonic presence. Except Jeanne refuses the order, likely because she can't do it.

Instead, she lashes out at the priest and makes indecent gestures. As for the pained looks and contortions, well, the young women could be caught up in a fervor of their own making. And the crowds are understandably shocked by what they're seeing. I mean, honestly, even now, a lot of us might be shocked to see a Catholic nun acting and talking this way, right? And this is 1633. William Friedkin's The Exorcist, depicting a similar case of possession, won't be out for another 340 years.

He wasn't the one in league with the devil. It was all the exorcists and the nuns. They were the real witches, tricking everyone into persecuting an innocent man. Well, says the exorcist, if that's true, he prays to God in front of everyone to open up a big hole in the ground and swallow them all to hell, which obviously didn't happen.

But whether or not the town believes Urbain is guilty, his case still has to be brought to trial, and his trial is a doozy. Just before it all begins, Urbain finally meets his accusers face to face. In June of 1634, Le Bardemont summons the priest from his prison. He wants Urbain to witness as nine of the nuns undergo the torment of an exorcism. Then suddenly, one of the other priests makes a wild suggestion.

They should force Urbain to carry out the exorcism. It's unclear what benefit this could possibly have other than pure entertainment. But Urbain has no choice. When he steps up onto the stage, he asks the nuns and their so-called demons who really sent them. They all give his name. But it seems like Urbain is prepared to defend himself. He tries to break down their claims with logic. He says he doesn't believe any man has that kind of power, to which they respond, "Well, he's been a sorcerer for nine years.

He's more powerful than any ordinary man." Next, he asks if he can conduct the rest of the exorcism in Greek to see if the nuns can understand him. They should only be able to if they're truly possessed. Reportedly, a few of the nuns agree to his terms, but it's not unanimous, so his request is denied. Finally, Urbain challenges them. "If you truly have the strength of multiple demons within you, I command you to rise up against me right now and strangle my neck."

And the nuns reply that they can't. Well, they're inside a church surrounded by exorcists. Essentially, they would love to strangle him, but their hands are tied. Actually, literally. The rest of the exorcism is cut short as the nuns fall into what's described as the most violent outburst they've ever had. All nine of them convulse, scream. They yell obscenities. They won't stop until Urbain is ushered away and sent back to his boarded-up room.

The following month, his trial commences without him. For about six weeks, judges huddle together for hours a day, deciding on the fate of Urbain Grandier. And they have a lot to talk about. He's hit with the following charges: the crime of magic, enchantments, irreligion, impiety, sacrilege, and other offenses, and abominable crimes. Any supporters he had, no matter how powerful, can't help him anymore.

The judges pass an edict making it illegal to oppose all claims made by the nuns or the exorcists. Imagine you're on trial for a crime you didn't commit, and the jury is ordered to accept whatever the prosecution says. And that's the situation Urbain finds himself in. Judges hear from witnesses who testify to feeling seduced by Urbain. A woman in the street shook his hand and suddenly felt an unrelenting desire for the priest.

Another made eye contact with him during communion and felt a jolt of lightning pass through her body. And none of these examples do they say that Urbain acted inappropriately. The point is clearly this man is a seducer. Or maybe their town is short on attractive men with mustaches. If there is any evidence against Urbain, it's a piece of paper called a pact.

This handwritten letter addressed to a demon appears to profess the author's loyalty to Satan. The judges say they have four of these pacts in Urbain's hand, signed by him. Now, of course, there is no real forensic analysis to back that up like we might rely on today. And notably, the judges got these pacts from the nuns. They would produce these letters smeared with blood during their exorcisms.

That blood is said to belong to Urbain. According to Jeanne, he'd cut himself on the thumb to seal his pact with Asmodeus. Doctors are sent straight away to examine Urbain's thumb. And lo and behold, they do find a scar, which Urbain insists was an accident. He was cutting a loaf of bread with a knife when it slipped. But the judges aren't so sure. They decide to search him for a devil's mark.

It's a lot like in a witchcraft trial when a strange birthmark or wart was pointed to as proof of evil doing. Only in this case, Urbain is stuck with needles all over his body. According to the physicians present, they locate two areas that don't bleed when pricked, which again, they take as proof that he's a sorcerer. Throughout most of the trial, Urbain is kept in his cell with only the occasional report about how things are progressing.

When he is questioned, all he can do is insist he's innocent. He sticks to his story, never confessing. But on August 18th, 1634, they condemn him anyway. Urbain Grandier is found guilty of magic, evil spells, and possession. His execution is to be carried out immediately. Anyone who truly believes he's behind the possessions must be relieved. Justice is served.

And perhaps the nuns' lives and the entire town of Loudun can return to normal. But according to some theories, some people have known all along that Urbain is innocent. And they may have even orchestrated Loudun's long descent into madness, all to settle personal grudges against a priest who refused to conform. And now they're about to burn him at the stake.

It's the morning of August 18th, 1634, and Father Urbain Grandier has just been sentenced to death. He's to be burned at the stake. Before that happens, Urbain is asked to name his accomplices. That line of questioning is common practice at this time. Once a crime has been established, it's also common practice to inflict torture when Urbain refuses to name anyone. Both of his legs are placed into a device known as a boot.

And long story short, his bones are crushed. He's then taken to the public square where thousands watch as he's tied up and burned alive. Urbain never does confess to sorcery. Before his execution, he was told that confessing would earn him a swifter and less painful death. But still, he refused. Though he did say he was guilty of other things, things he said were worse than evil magic or bewitching nuns.

Those past deeds he alluded to may be at the crux of the main conspiracy theory surrounding the possessions of Loudun. Let's rewind a bit back to the early days when the nuns first claimed to be possessed. When Jeanne begins exhibiting all of that very un-nun-like behavior. Reportedly, not everybody is quick to buy the story Jeanne and the exorcists are selling. When church officials first decide to bring the matter to someone outside the church, they pay a visit to the chief magistrate of Loudun.

He hears these claims of demons and nightly apparitions and agrees to go see an exorcism for himself. At the Ursuline Convent, he's brought into a room with seven beds lined up in a row. Jeanne is bound to one of them. As the magistrate watches the exorcism unfold, he concludes, "This is all fake. There is no demonic possession." He doesn't know what's going on, but whatever it is needs to end.

Except when he voices his concerns, nobody will listen. The clergy don't really have to. At the end of the day, the exorcisms are church matter. They have an order to carry them out signed by the bishop. The magistrate is far from the only one who thinks people, not demons, are the true driving force behind the possessions. Especially now, nearly 400 years later. Clearly, there was human error involved.

So much so that the work goes on to inspire Ken Russell's 1971 film The Devils, which earns an NC-17 rating and is either heavily edited or banned in several countries. At any rate, Huxley's version is based on solid research. He uses firsthand accounts and official documents, and he draws these conclusions. One, Jeanne, the mother superior, has it out for Urbain Grandier from the start.

And two, separately, Urbain's enemies use Jeanne and the other nuns as a tool to ruin a man who they view as a blight on their community. Here's the case Huxley builds to explain why they all want revenge on Urbain. Father Grandier moved to Loudun at the age of 27. This is about 15 years before the possessions began. At first, he seems like a good fit as the new parish priest in town. He's witty, well-read.

In the morning, he can deliver a rousing sermon, and at night, he's a beguiling conversationalist. Right away, he befriends the governor. According to Huxley, that's when some of the more well-established families begin to see him as a threat. Urbain is an outsider, and he thinks like an outsider too. There's the fact that he's chumming with the Protestants, and some of the clergy aren't too impressed by Urbain's progressive politics. Especially when it comes to sex.

Long before his treatise against celibacy is discovered in his home, he's already gaining a reputation. People say he frequents the homes of widows around town too often, or that he seduces young women. Townsfolk spread gossip that he sleeps with his congregants inside the church, and they hate him for this. To Huxley's point, when Urbain is burned at the stake, his treatise is thrown on the pyre with him, right next to the pacts he supposedly signed with the demons.

Over the years, Urbain's reputation gets worse. It turns out not all the stories about him are hearsay. As a matter of record, one of his known relationships is with a young woman named Felipe Trincon. Huxley asserts that Urbain gets her pregnant, at which point he wants nothing more to do with her. To avoid bringing shame to herself and her family, Felipe has no choice but to hide the pregnancy and give her child up for adoption. But a select few know exactly who's to blame.

A more public scandal follows when he pursues another young woman, Madeleine. After losing both of her parents, she's been considering taking her vows and becoming a nun. Huxley says that Madeleine is entrusted to the care of Father Urbain, but instead of becoming her spiritual guide, he becomes her lover. Needless to say, Urbain has earned himself a few enemies. Powerful enemies.

I mean, no matter what version of the story you believe, there are plenty of people who don't like his style, who take offense to his philosophy, or who are just plain jealous. On top of that, it seems like he's been careless about breaking hearts across town. For example, Felipe, the woman he got pregnant, Huxley states that her father is the king's prosecutor in Loudun, and Madeleine's dad was a counselor to the king. Now both of their families loathe him, as do all of their powerful allies.

Huxley also points out that the Ursuline Convent is filled with the unwed daughters of the town's noblemen, who certainly would have heard all of these stories about the controversial priest. In December of 1629, about three years before the possessions, Urbain is imprisoned on charges of incontinency, which doesn't mean what you think it means. In Urbain's time, the word refers to his inability to control his sexual appetite.

From prison, he calls in favors from any friend willing to help. He also writes to the bishop, begging for clemency. He says, in effect, "All of my enemies want me dead, but that only makes him want to serve them more. P.S. Please let me out of prison." After several appeals, he's set free, which only angers his enemies more. They wonder if he somehow persuaded or even paid off witnesses to change their testimony. What's more, he doesn't have to pay for his crimes of morality.

But there is one other small moment, one that probably seemed insignificant to Urbain at the time, that places a target squarely on his back. Sometime before the possessions take hold, the Ursuline Convent is on the lookout for a new chaplain. Remember, their old one has just died. And one of the names put forth to replace him is Urbain Grandier. Different sources offer different versions of the story, but Aldus Huxley has Jeanne d'Azenc herself writing to offer him the job.

Whoever makes the offer, Urbain turns it down, politely, of course. And this is the closest he ever gets to interacting with Jeanne before she accuses him of sorcery. Now, Huxley suggests this ignites Jeanne's fury. She's angry at being rejected because, according to the author, she's obsessed with Father Urbain. Jeanne lives an incredibly sheltered and routine life.

She's a nun. Every day, it's the same tasks at the same times, over and over. And the hardest part of the day, according to her, is getting through those long stretches of prayer time. There's a part of her that knows someday she will leave the convent life. She doesn't want to live like this forever. For now, she tries to take on every odd job she can, anything to keep her mind occupied.

If Huxley's account is right, when Jeanne's mind is idle, her thoughts always turn to Urbain. The timing of the plague of 1632 makes matters worse. Jeanne spends months even more sequestered than she would normally be. So the fact that her visions and claims of possession happen at the tail end of the plague does seem a little suspicious. She's been on lockdown.

I think we all remember how 2020 went. It would be no surprise if Jeanne's mental health suffered a bit if her obsession with Urbain deepened. So one theory is that Jeanne has personal reasons for targeting Urbain. She was in love with the idea of him, and he turned down her invitation. But what about all the priests, the exorcists who took her at her word? Well, they may have had their own reasons, totally separate from Jeanne's, to want revenge on Urbain.

Take Father Mignon, for example. After Urbain turns down the job as the nun's chaplain, Mignon steps in. According to Huxley, Mignon happens to be the cousin of Felipe, the woman Urbain impregnated and then left high and dry. So the author suggests, perhaps Mignon hears the accusations against Urbain and seizes the opportunity. Or maybe, just maybe, his subterfuge began before that.

It's Mignon's job to take the nun's confessions. Inside the walls of this convent, he knows everything. So he could have even been the one to suggest that those dreams, those temptations, weren't dreams at all. They were the work of the devil. He could have implanted the idea in Jeanne's mind. In Huxley's version of events, Mignon actually gathers Urbain's detractors together in a room, and they conspire, then and there, to use this bizarre situation to their advantage.

They can pin it all on Urbain. If he's ultimately acquitted, his reputation will be beyond repair. He'll be excommunicated, and if he's found guilty and burned at the stake, hey, well, so be it. If this theory is true, Mignon starts by carefully building the first team of exorcists. He chooses a well-respected priest to add credibility. He picks another who sees the devil everywhere, in everything.

He'll believe Jeanne's story for sure, even when Mignon eventually drops out of the exorcisms. The ball is already rolling. Now, Huxley's allegations are not really a matter of record, but there is documentation suggesting this whole story wasn't so cut and dry. And that involves the autobiographical writings of Jeanne d'Azenc, the mother superior herself. Okay, so after Urbain is executed, the nuns are still not cured of their possessions, which is kind of surprising, right?

These appear in red script, and they never go away. It's believed to be a divine mark. Jeanne's celebrity grows even more. She goes on a tour around the country, showing off her hand, and then she writes a memoir. Jeanne claims she always believed the possessions were real, but the way she talks about them is interesting. It's almost as if she views the possessions as teamwork, a dual effort between her and her demons.

She puts it like this, "In most cases, I saw quite clearly that I was the prime cause of my turmoil, and that the demon only acted according to the openings I gave him." Jeanne describes how she relished being the sister with the most demons. She got a kick out of having the biggest outbursts, almost like it was a competition. Furthermore, Jeanne always seemed to understand what the exorcists and her live audience expected from her.

She knew that they longed to see her manifest the very evil they claim to condemn. Last but not least, she also mentions an enjoyable little feeling she experienced when she was agitated, which seems to bolster the theory that Jeanne's sexual repression was a main cause of what happened in Loudun. But to her, at the end of the day, all of these thoughts were the work of the devil.

That is, after all, what her exorcists told her. When Jeanne went to them and confessed her doubts, they insisted the demons were making her think that way. Urbain was making her think that way. As her job demanded, she took them at their word. Because every era needs a boogeyman to blame. Thank you for listening to Conspiracy Theories.

We're here with a new episode every Wednesday. Be sure to check us out on Instagram at The Conspiracy Pod. If you're watching on Spotify, swipe up and give us your thoughts. Our sources for today's episode include Michelle de Surtaux's The Possession at Loudun, translated by Michael B. Smith, The History of the Devils of Loudun, translated by Edmund Goldsmidge, and Aldus Huxley's The Devils of Loudun. Until next time, remember, the truth isn't always the best story, and the official story isn't always the truth.

This episode was written and researched by Mickey Taylor, edited by Justin Sales, fact-checked by Sophie Kemp, and engineered, video edited, and sound designed by Alex Button. I'm your host, Carter Roy.