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A cook scolds a clumsy farmhand who cannot work a roasting jack, and he explains that his family was too poor to eat meat. The farmhand is Charles II, the most wanted man in England. On September 3rd, 1651, Oliver Cromwell's New Model Army destroyed his forces at the Battle of Worcester, and the king fled out the back of his lodgings with about 60 mounted officers. Persuaded that a private army could not hide, he sent them away, put on green breeches, a leather doublet, and a greasy gray hat, and let Richard Penderel hack off his hair with shears.
This episode follows the six weeks that came after, a flight kept alive by Catholic families practiced at hiding people, by a borrowed travel permit, and by luck. Parliament offered 1,000 pounds for the king and promised death to anyone who helped him. He walked on bleeding feet in shoes too small, hid in priest holes, rode as a servant named William Jackson, and was nearly undone by a locked bedroom door and a set of horseshoes. In the early hours of October 15th he sailed from Sussex on a coal boat, two hours ahead of the cavalry.
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In February 1861 a woman on a night train to Washington, D.C. fussed loudly over her sick brother, a tall man slumped under a shawl and a soft felt cap. The brother was president-elect Abraham Lincoln, and the woman was Kate Warne of the Pinkerton agency, moving him through Baltimore past a planned assassination. Five years earlier, in 1856, she had walked into Allan Pinkerton's Chicago office as a 23-year-old widow and asked for a detective's job. Told it was not the custom to employ female detectives, she argued that a woman could collect secrets in parlors and on train rides where a man would be suspected at once.
This episode pieces together what survives of her career. She cracked an 1858 embezzlement case by befriending the suspect's wife, ran Pinkerton's female detective bureau by 1860, and posed as a Southern lady at Baltimore's Barnum Hotel to learn how the plotters meant to strike during Lincoln's horse-drawn transfer between stations. She later spied for the Union and worked murder and poisoning cases under invented names. She died in January 1868 at about 35, and most records of her work burned in the Great Chicago Fire of 1871.
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Between roughly 1688 and the 1820s, a worker in England, Wales, or Ireland who stole goods worth 12 pence, about one twentieth of a skilled worker's weekly wage, could be hanged for it. Historians call the system the Bloody Code. In 1689 there were about 50 capital offenses. By around 1820 there were more than 200, and most of the additions protected property. As common land was enclosed, the landowners sitting in Parliament made it a hanging matter to poach deer, cut down estate trees, damage a fish pond, or embezzle from the post office.
This episode examines the logic behind those laws and why they failed. With no organized police, Parliament bet on terror, a view summed up by the Marquess of Halifax: men are not hanged for stealing horses, but that horses may not be stolen. Juries refused to cooperate. Executions actually declined as the statutes multiplied, and the standoff pushed the government toward transportation, first to the American colonies and then, after 1776 and the misery of the prison hulks, to Australia. The story ends with a repeal so slow that its last traces survived into the age of the internet.
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A skeleton on display in a London medical museum belongs to the man who ran the city's underworld while the public thanked him for fighting crime. Jonathan Wild was born poor in Wolverhampton in the early 1680s and came to a London of around 600,000 people with no police force, only unpaid parish constables. Thrown into the Wood Street Compter for debt in 1710, he learned how corruption worked by running errands for the jailers and lending to inmates, and a prostitute named Mary Milliner taught him the stolen goods trade. He then studied extortion as assistant to the crooked under-marshal Charles Hitchen and took the racket from him.
This episode explains the closed loop Wild built from an office in the Old Bailey. His gang stole the goods, victims paid him a finder's fee to recover them, and any thief who held out was handed to the hangman for the government's 40 pound bounty. The scheme lasted until Wild met Jack Sheppard, a burglar who refused to work for him and kept escaping from prison. The feud turned London against the self-appointed Thief-Taker General, his own men testified, and he was hanged at Tyburn before a jeering crowd.
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In July 1882 a man hauling wood in West Turkey Creek Canyon, Arizona found a body seated on a flat rock among five oak trees growing from a single root. The corpse was blackened by the sun, a bullet had entered the right temple, a revolver was still in the right hand, and the feet were wrapped in strips torn from an undershirt. This was John Peters Ringo, the outlaw the movies present as a Latin-quoting rival of Doc Holliday. The record shows someone else: a boy who at 14 watched his father die in a shotgun accident on a Wyoming wagon trail, and who grew into a drifter and a violent drunk.
This episode works from coroner's findings, newspaper clippings, and court records to separate the man from the legend. It covers his killings in the Texas feud known as the Hoodoo War, his loose ties to the Cochise County Cowboys, and a Tombstone more worried about mining investors than gunfights. Then it tests each theory of his death. Wyatt Earp's claim does not fit the calendar, Doc Holliday was in a Colorado courtroom, and the coroner's jury ruling of suicide is the one the evidence supports.
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On a July night in 1934, bystanders in a Chicago alley dipped handkerchiefs and scraps of newspaper in the blood of a man federal agents had just shot. The man was John Dillinger, born in 1903 in Indianapolis and raised by a strict grocer father. His path to that alley began with a clumsy 1924 grocery store robbery that netted about $50. On his father's advice he pleaded guilty without a lawyer, expected leniency, and got 10 to 20 years. He came out in May 1933 after nine and a half years, trained by veteran bank robbers in the stopwatch methods of Herman Lamm.
This episode follows the short, violent career that came next. Dillinger robbed his first bank within weeks, was broken out of an Ohio jail by the mentors he had armed, and walked out of the supposedly escape proof jail at Crown Point. To a public that blamed banks for the Depression, he looked like an avenger. To J. Edgar Hoover, his state-hopping was the argument for a federal police force. The pursuit ran through shootouts in St. Paul and at Little Bohemia, back room plastic surgery, and a betrayal outside the Biograph Theater.
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Jim Corbett killed big cats that had taken hundreds of human lives, and he is also remembered as a founding figure of wildlife conservation with a tiger subspecies named for him. Born in 1875 in Nainital, India, the eighth of nine children of a postmaster who died young, he grew up roaming the jungles near the family's winter home at Kaladhungi. He moved from a catapult to a pellet bow to a muzzle loading shotgun by age eight, and learned to read alarm calls and pug marks from villagers. As an Anglo-Indian he lived among local people, spoke their languages, and respected their beliefs.
This episode follows that boy through 22 years running river transport at Mokameh Ghat, a labor corps on the Western Front, and the hunts that made him famous, beginning in 1907 with the Champawat tigress. It also traces his turn from rifle to camera. Years of tracking taught him that man-eaters were usually injured animals and that the real danger to India's wildlife was vanishing habitat. He filmed tigers with a noisy hand-cranked camera, pressed the government to create India's first national park, and wrote Man-Eaters of Kumaon from a sickbed in 1943.
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On a January night in 1875, armed men surrounded a Missouri farmhouse and threw an incendiary device through the window. It rolled into the fireplace and exploded, nearly severing a mother's arm and killing her nine-year-old son. The attackers were Pinkerton detectives. The victims were the family of Frank and Jesse James, who were not even home. This episode starts there to ask how a gang of bank and train robbers came to look like the wronged party, and the answer begins in Civil War Missouri, where teenagers like the James brothers and Cole Younger learned ambush and terror as Confederate bushwhackers.
When the war ended, those skills moved to a new target. The February 1866 raid on the Clay County Savings Association in Liberty used cavalry tactics on a bank and took around $60,000. A newspaper editor named John Newman Edwards then recast the robbers as noble knights in an editorial called The Chivalry of Crime, and Jesse James wrote his own letters to the press. The story follows that publicity machine through the Pinkerton war, the catastrophic 1876 raid on Northfield, Minnesota, and the reward money that finally turned the gang against itself.
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In the fall of 1724, the most secure prison in England was beaten by a five foot four carpenter with a slight stutter. Jack Sheppard was born in Spitalfields in 1702, sent to a workhouse at six, and bound to a seven year carpentry apprenticeship in which his labor belonged to his master. For five years he was a model apprentice. Then he fell in with the crowd at the Black Lion, including the thief known as Blueskin and Elizabeth Lyon, called Edgworth Bess, pocketed two silver spoons, and walked away from his contract into full-time burglary.
This episode follows the 20 months that made him a legend. Sheppard refused to fence his goods through Jonathan Wild, the self-styled Thief-Taker General who secretly ran London's organized crime and sent his own men to the gallows for a 40 pound bounty. Wild hunted him, and Sheppard answered with four escapes, each more humiliating to the authorities than the last. His final arrest came two weeks after the greatest of them, when he was found drunk in a stolen black silk suit. An estimated 200,000 people, about a third of London, lined the route to his hanging at Tyburn.
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J. Edgar Hoover grew up in Washington, D.C. with a severe stutter and beat it by teaching himself to talk at ferocious speed. At 18 he took a messenger job at the Library of Congress, where he absorbed a cross-referenced cataloging system and a lesson he never forgot: power belongs to whoever can retrieve and connect information fastest. He carried that method into the Department of Justice in 1917, built paper files on political radicals, and helped orchestrate the Palmer raids. In 1924, at 29, he was handed a scandal-ridden Bureau of Investigation to clean up.
This episode traces 48 years in power across eight presidencies. Hoover turned the bungled Dillinger hunt into a public relations triumph, built a national fingerprint database and forensics lab, and pushed aside the agent who actually got Dillinger. He also denied the Mafia existed until a 1957 mob summit in upstate New York made denial impossible, hid decoded Soviet cables from President Truman, and created COINTELPRO to disrupt groups the courts would not let him prosecute. Presidents complained about him in private and kept him anyway, out of fear and because his surveillance was useful.
From the publisher's feed
pplpod is a podcast about people, places and lots of other stuff. Each episode takes a deep dive into the lives, choices, and legacies of fascinating figures from history, culture,…
Thoughtful, engaging, and story-driven, pplpod explores what makes these lives extraordinary—and what we can learn from them today.