The Penelope Jackson Case and the Threshold of Coercive Control

Dead London: The Highgate Vampire Files

Where Victorian graves meet modern madness, and something ancient refuses to stay buried. In 1970, hundreds of stake-wielding Londoners stormed Highgate Cemetery on Friday the 13th, hunting a vampire. This is that story. Dead London: The Highgate Vampire Files uncovers one of Britain's most extraordinary urban legends. We explore the crumbling Victorian necropolis that sparked mass hysteria, the bitter rivalry between two eccentric occultists, and the tabloid press that gleefully fanned the flames. Was the Highgate Vampire real, or something far more fascinating? Perfect for fans of British history, folk horror, and the stranger side of London life. 🔔 Subscribe and join us as we dig up the peculiar, the forgotten, and the genuinely terrifying.

The Pretty Dragoon

In 1693, a Dublin publican cut her hair, borrowed a name, and walked into the British Army to find her missing husband. What followed was thirteen years of infantry combat, cavalry charges, a skull fracture at Ramillies, and a husband she eventually found flirting with a Dutch woman after Blenheim. Christian Davies fought at Landen, Schellenberg, Blenheim, and Ramillies. She killed a sergeant in a duel. She paid child support to a prostitute rather than prove the claim impossible. She buried her husband under two hundred bodies on the field at Malplaquet. She was so convincing as a man that her regiment called her the pretty dragoon. She was eventually admitted to the Royal Hospital Chelsea as a pensioner. Daniel Defoe wrote her story. Queen Anne gave her fifty pounds and a shilling a day. Nobody gave her a category to fit into. She didn't seem to need one.

The Penelope Jackson Case and the Threshold of Coercive Control

A birthday dinner. A trivial row over bubble and squeak. A husband dead in the kitchen. But the case of Penelope Jackson was never as simple as the headlines made it seem. Behind the sensational 999 call lay allegations of coercive control, long-buried violence, lockdown pressure, and a marriage built on fear, silence, and image. In this episode of Peculiar Britain, we explore one of Britain’s most controversial domestic homicide cases and ask: where is the line between murder and psychological breaking point?

The Great British Takeoff

In this gripping episode of Peculiar Britain, we unpack the infamous “dine-and-dash” spree that captivated the UK and exposed the fragile trust underpinning the hospitality industry. Between 2023 and 2024, Bernard and Ann McDonagh orchestrated a calculated campaign of fraud across South Wales—exploiting social norms, manipulating identities, and even using their own children as part of the con. But this isn’t just a story about unpaid restaurant bills. It’s about the rise of digital vigilantism, the power of viral justice, and what happens when the public takes policing into its own hands. From the pivotal Bella Ciao incident to the courtroom reckoning at Swansea Crown Court, we explore the criminological, social, and ethical implications of one of Britain’s most bizarre modern crime sprees.

Chicken, Lager and Delusion: Gazza at the Raoul Moat Standoff

In this episode of Peculiar Britain, we revisit the 2010 manhunt for Raoul Moat, which followed the fatal shooting of Chris Brown, the serious injury of Samantha Stobbart, and the blinding of PC David Rathband before Moat was cornered near Rothbury after a week-long police operation. But this is also the story of an astonishing sideshow: former England star Paul Gascoigne turning up at the police cordon in a dressing gown, carrying chicken, lager and fishing gear, insisting he could help Moat. Gascoigne was refused access, and years later said he had been heavily intoxicated and delusional, believing he had some bond with Moat. This episode explores the collision between a live national tragedy and a very public personal collapse. It is a story about media spectacle, addiction, mental health, and the way one surreal moment nearly eclipsed the suffering of the real victims. We also look at why later dramatizations chose to leave Gazza out entirely, arguing that his appearance distracted from the human cost of Moat’s crimes.