Original subtitles

Na

Narr

Narrat

Narrator

Narrator:

Narrator: Th

Narrator: The

Narrator: The co

Narrator: The conf

Narrator: The confed

Narrator: The confeder

Narrator: The confederat

Narrator: The confederate

Narrator: The confederate tr

Narrator: The confederate trea

Narrator: The confederate treasu

Narrator: The confederate treasury

Narrator: The confederate treasury,

worth an estimated $142 Million today,

seemingly vanished following the American Civil War in 1865.

Anthea Nardi: One of the most enduring theories was

that it was stolen, or quietly diverted,

by the men assigned to protect it.

Narrator: Ivan the Terrible, curator of one of history's

most prized libraries, may have taken

its secret location to his grave.

Alison Leonard: Ivan may have stored the library in the many

corridors and chambers he liked to imprison and torture

his enemies in, right under Moscow's Kremlin.

Narrator: The unsolved heist of the Irish Crown Jewels

from Dublin Castle in 1907,

points to a shadowy cast of characters.

James Ellis: This sparked rumors of a cover-up,

suggesting that certain powerful interests had something to hide.

♪♪

Narrator: The chain of history has many missing links.

Prominent people.

Priceless treasures.

Extraordinary artifacts.

Their locations still unknown,

lost to the fog of time.

What happens when stories of the past...

become...

Vanished History?

♪♪

Narrator: In April 1865,

as the Civil War reached its brutal conclusion,

the Confederate States of America

crumbled under the weight of Union victories.

The Confederate capital city of Richmond burned,

as its leaders fled in the night on two trains:

one carried Jefferson Davis and his desperate government;

the other, the Confederate treasury:

a fortune in gold and silver.

Anthea Nardi: The Confederate treasury represented

more than money, it was a symbol of Southern independence

and their only hope of sustaining a regime

on the brink of defeat.

It included over $700,000 in gold, silver,

and donations from Southern families,

such as heirlooms, jewelry,

even sweepings from mint floors.

James Ellis: When Richmond fell, the President of the Confederacy

- Jefferson Davis, and his cabinet fled south,

taking the Confederate treasury with them,

a fortune worth about $142 million today.

But just weeks later, when Davis was captured,

the treasure was gone.

And that leaves one big question: Where did it go?

Narrator: The Civil War began in 1861,

when 11 Southern states broke away from the Union,

aiming to protect slavery

and their idea of states' rights.

James Ellis: Virginia became the heart of the conflict.

Early victories gave the Confederates hope,

but General Robert E. Lee's defeats at Gettysburg

and Petersburg, shattered that optimism.

Four years after the war began,

the South was in ruins,

its cities burning, its armies depleted,

and its people were starving.

Alison Leonard: On April 2, 1865,

Jefferson Davis received word that Lee's lines

at Petersburg had collapsed.

An evacuation of Richmond was ordered immediately,

but not before the Confederate treasury

was removed from its vaults.

Adam Bunch: That night, at midnight,

two trains left Richmond,

fleeing ahead of the Union army:

one carrying government documents and officials;

the other, under the command of

Navy Captain William H. Parker, held the treasury.

Anthea Nardi: Guarded by naval cadets,

some as young as 12 years old,

the train moved towards Danville, Virginia,

over 140 miles south.

There, the railroad ended,

and the weight of over 9,000 pounds of silver

became an insurmountable challenge.

James Ellis: From Danville, the men and their cargo

continued their journey south, by horseback,

toward the U.S. Mint in Charlotte, North Carolina,

where Captain Parker initially planned to secure the treasure.

The Union cavalry in the area forced a change of course.

Narrator: As Confederate forces dwindled,

so did their resources,

and the burden of protecting the treasury soon shifted

to Secretary of War, John C. Breckenridge.

Adam Bunch: It's said that Breckenridge trusted

what was left of the treasure

to a Brigadier General named Basil Duke.

It was divided into six wagons

guarded by fewer than 1,000 men,

and started a dangerous retreat through Georgia,

heading deeper into the south, away from the front lines.

James Ellis: On May 10, 1865,

Jefferson Davis was captured near Irwinville, Georgia,

carrying only a handful of coins.

Union troops seized $100,000 in gold

stored in a Washington bank,

but the bulk of the treasury was gone.

Narrator: Theories about the Confederate treasure's fate

began in Danville, where advancing Union forces

drove desperate decisions.

Alison Leonard: It's possible that some of the

Confederate treasure was buried in Danville

during those chaotic final days of the war.

With the sheer weight of the silver

and the logistical challenges of moving it,

Confederate officials might have had no choice

but to hide it in remote locations,

planning to come back for it once the war was over.

Adam Bunch: The Confederate government briefly used

Danville as essentially, its makeshift capital,

but was soon forced to keep fleeing south.

It would have been a frantic scene,

with soldiers working late into the night,

said to have been moving crates and barrels

that sparked some theories about part of the treasury

maybe being hidden nearby.

James Ellis: Some speculated that the

Knights of the Golden Circle,

a shadowy organization tied to the Confederacy,

played a role in hiding the treasure.

The Knights were known for their coded symbols

and elaborate rituals

and were said to mark significant hiding places.

They entrusted these locations only to loyal members.

This secrecy has fueled speculation

about buried caches throughout the South.

Adam Bunch: Some people like to say the gold might be buried

in Danville's cemeteries,

but there's been no proof of a link between those sites

and the Knights of the Golden Circle,

and there are laws protecting burial grounds too.

Even advanced tools like ground- penetrating radar haven't found

any proof of hidden Confederate gold in the city.

But for some, that just makes the mystery

even more intriguing.

Narrator: Some believe the fate of the treasury

wasn't left entirely to circumstance;

along its journey, key decisions and those who made them,

hint at a more deliberate plan.

Anthea Nardi: One of the most enduring theories

about the Confederate treasury was that it was stolen

or quietly diverted by the men assigned to protect it.

On May 4, 1865, in Washington, Georgia,

$86,000 in gold and bullion, worth over $1 million today,

was handed to Confederate Navy officers

James Semple and Edward Tidball.

Their mission was to smuggle it to Liverpool, England,

which was the Confederacy's financial hub.

James Ellis: Liverpool was a lifeline for the Confederacy,

a gateway for resources and diplomacy.

The gold was likely intended to pay off debts, secure supplies,

and maintain international alliances.

But it never made it.

Instead, Semple and Tidball vanished,

ultimately abandoning their mission in South Carolina.

Alison Leonard: Edward Tidball's postwar life

was certainly questionable.

Just days after getting the gold from Davis,

he was spotted heading north from Georgia

and eventually settled in Winchester, Virginia,

where he built Linden Farm, an extravagant estate

far beyond the means of a former Confederate officer.

Narrator: While Tidball's rise to wealth

hinted at possible betrayal,

his companion, James Semple, chose a more elusive path...

Anthea Nardi: Semple's movements after the war are murky.

Historical accounts suggest he fled south,

hiding in the Okefenokee Swamp

before making his way to Nassau in the Bahamas.

He even exchanged letters

with President John Tyler's widow Julia,

which hint at lavish spending on romance

and secret dealings.

Adam Bunch: Operating under aliases like Allen S. James,

Semple moved between Canada and the United States,

funneling resources to Confederates in exile.

So some people wonder whether he might've used

the stolen treasury to fund these operations

and pursue political ambitions after the war's end.

Narrator: As the treasury's trail faded,

it sparked more questions than answers,

leading some to believe its final destination

was far from southern soil,

in an unexpected place.

Alison Leonard: Some believe a portion of the Confederate gold

made its way north to Michigan.

Adam Bunch: During his retreat,

Davis's group is said to have had six wagons

loaded with gold and other valuables.

But when he was captured, those wagons seem to have vanished.

So one theory speculates that maybe it could have been

hidden nearby, and then redirected north.

Anthea Nardi: Four years after Davis's capture,

two railroads were completed.

One in Georgia and another connecting Muskegon, Michigan

to Lake Michigan.

This expanding network would have made it possible

to transport concealed gold

without raising too much suspicion.

Narrator: The mystery took an even stranger turn

many years later when a deathbed confession

linked the Confederate gold directly to Muskegon.

James Ellis: In 1921, George Alexander Abbott,

Vice President of Hackley National Bank,

made a startling claim on his deathbed.

He confessed to stealing part of the Confederate gold

and hiding it in a boxcar,

which was ferried across Lake Michigan.

Alison Leonard: According to Abbott,

a violent storm struck during the crossing,

and the boxcar was pushed overboard,

sending the gold into the lake.

If true, millions in Confederate treasure

could still lie beneath Lake Michigan.

Narrator: But the Michigan theory doesn't rest

solely on Abbott's confession.

Adam Bunch: Abbott's uncle was Brigadier General Robert Minty,

a celebrated Union cavalry officer,

whose unit captured Davis.

So, some treasure hunters have turned their attention to him,

while pointing to the fact the president of Abbott's bank,

lumber baron Charles Hackley, saw his wealth grow

right around the same time Davis was caught.

Anthea Nardi: Even Muskegon's Hackley Park,

dedicated to Civil War veterans, holds interesting symbolism.

Its layout, with diagonal and curved sidewalks,

resembles the Confederate battle flag,

and in the centre of the park

there's a statue of a cavalry soldier

that bears a striking resemblance to Robert Minty.

Could this be a veiled tribute to a hidden source of wealth?

Narrator: The Confederate treasury's disappearance

is a tangle of fragmented truths,

lost records, and enduring speculation.

Alison Leonard: Jefferson Davis spent his post-war years

defending the Confederacy's ideals,

crafting a narrative that glorified its "lost cause."

Narrator: The Confederate treasury's fate

may never be known, but its legacy endures

as a stark symbol of a rebellion

built on exploitation and oppression,

a reminder of the chaos and consequences

of a war fought to preserve an unjust cause.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Narrator: In the 16th century,

the Tsar of all the Russias, Ivan the Terrible,

had come to possess an astounding collection

of ancient books, holding powerful knowledge

from past civilizations.

Throughout Ivan's fearsome reign,

he kept the location of his stockpile of books a secret

from those around him, and when he died,

his library seemed to die with him.

James Ellis: The library had originated in Constantinople,

now Istanbul, in Turkey,

which had been a hub of culture and learning for centuries.

After the city fell to the Turks in 1453,

the Pope arranged a marriage

between Constantinople's Princess Sophia,

and Russia's Ivan the Great,

who would become Ivan the Terrible's grandfather.

Alison Leonard: Sophia was sent off to Moscow,

along with a dowry of over 800 gold-bound,

jewel encrusted books and scrolls,

the bulk of what had been saved from Constantinople's library

before the Turks ransacked it.

The collection is believed to have included

Greek, Latin, Hebrew, and Egyptian texts,

and even 2nd century texts from China!

James Ellis: This library was carefully kept

by Ivan's grandfather,

and handed down to Ivan's father,

and ultimately, to Ivan.

Over the years, historians of the day

recounted having glimpsed the awe-inspiring collection,

and based on their descriptions,

if it were found today, it might triple

what we know about ancient Greek and Roman literature, alone.

Amma Agbedor: Ivan the Terrible was also a collector of books.

So after the library passed on to him,

he's said to have grown it even larger.

What we don't know, is where he kept it hidden,

and what became of it after his death.

So where is Ivan the Terrible's lost library?

Narrator: It could be said that Ivan the Terrible was

a product of his time, and certainly, his upbringing.

James Ellis: Despite being born into royalty,

Ivan had a wretched childhood.

When he was three, his father died,

and his mother took the reins as ruler;

she was very active politically and diplomatically.

But when Ivan was 8, she died too.

Many believe she was poisoned by power-hungry members

of the Russian nobility who had access to the royal court.

Alison Leonard: To the adults around him, the orphaned,

8-year-old Ivan was now just a valuable chess piece;

whoever controlled him controlled Russia.

So as the nobles battled over control of Ivan,

he was abused, neglected, and manipulated.

At his age, he couldn't fight back,

so instead he took revenge on animals,

torturing birds, and throwing dogs and cats

out of the palace windows.

Amma Agbedor: When Ivan was a teen,

he finally asserted himself.

At a feast one day, he accused Prince Andrei,

the most powerful member of the family,

that had probably murdered Ivan's mother,

of mismanaging the country.

He had Andrei arrested and either torn apart by dogs

or beaten to death, maybe both.

Alison Leonard: The day Ivan turned 16,

full power was transferred to him.

And just a couple of weeks later he married Anastasia Romanova.

By all accounts, Ivan loved Anastasia,

and her gentle character was a moderating influence

on his sadistic tendencies.

Narrator: 13 years later, Anastasia died

and Ivan was convinced she'd been poisoned by his enemies.

In response, he ordered interrogations,

tortures, and executions among the nobility.

James Ellis: Ivan created the Oprichniki,

a legion of bodyguards and enforcers

who lived with him like monks in a monastery.

But even though they lived and dressed like monks,

they rounded up actual priests and monks

and beat them to death.

Prominent merchants, officials, and nobles

were tortured and killed

and their families were thrown into the river to drown.

Amma Agbedor: No one who was a perceived enemy of Ivan's,

or of the Oprichniki, was safe.

Anyone deemed an enemy might be boiled alive; impaled;

roasted to death over fire;

even torn apart by horses.

Thousands were killed cruelly and indiscriminately.

James Ellis: It's hard to imagine that someone

with such an appetite for cruelty and suffering

would have any use for books

that spread knowledge and encourage reflection.

But apparently, Ivan did.

He cared enough to hold onto the library,

and to keep it from others.

Narrator: In an ironic twist, some believe

that the same places that might drive a human mind to despair,

could have been the best locations

to hide a priceless compilation of knowledge.

Alison Leonard: Ivan may have stored the library

in the many corridors and chambers

he liked to imprison and torture his enemies in,

right under Moscow's Kremlin.

It would have been the safest place for the books

against the threat of fire,

which was fairly common in Moscow in those days.

Amma Agbedor: The Kremlin was originally built as a fortress,

and it had underground secret passages,

water tunnels with concealed intakes, and dungeons.

Successive rulers sometimes added fortification features,

so by Ivan the Terrible's time,

it was already a labyrinth.

Alison Leonard: In the early part of the 20th century,

an archaeologist used old maps and diagrams of the Kremlin

to speculate where Ivan might have hidden his library.

He found an ancient gate, untouched for centuries,

but in his excavations soon after,

he broke through to an underground river

that threatened to flood everything,

so the search was put on hold.

James Ellis: Ultimately, he failed to turn up

any evidence of the lost library.

That said, he had only been able to search beneath

a small fraction of the more than

3,000,000 square feet of the Kremlin.

Narrator: According to some experts, the archaeologist

may have dedicated the better part of his life

to searching under the wrong royal residence.

Amma Agbedor: Ivan's library may still be hidden

somewhere about 70 miles northeast of Moscow

in the town of Alexandrov,

under Alexandrovskaya Sloboda,

Ivan's base of operations for about seventeen

of the darkest years of his reign.

Alison Leonard: Alexandrovskaya Sloboda is one of the oldest

known rural residences for Muscovite royalty.

So, like the Kremlin, its design included storage rooms,

secret passage ways, and fortified underground chambers,

which may have been used to hold and interrogate prisoners.

Ivan moved his base of operations there in 1564,

soon after his wife's death,

and that's where he lived with his thousands of Oprichniki.

James Ellis: When Ivan moved his court to Alexandrov,

he made no indications of ever wanting to return.

He went with 4,000 sleighs

that carried his personal belongings.

So it would be surprising if his cherished library

didn't accompany him.

Amma Agbedor: Ivan did end up moving back to Moscow in 1581,

but searches of Alexandrovskaya Sloboda

have yielded no trace of the library.

And there's also no record of it making the return journey.

So, either it's still somewhere in Alexandrov,

or it was never brought there in the first place.

Narrator: It's been suggested that one reason

Ivan might not have brought his library with him

to Alexandrovskaya Sloboda,

is that it was long gone from the Kremlin by then.

Alison Leonard: The books from Constantinople

could have burned to ashes during the Moscow fire of 1547.

In the mid-16th century, Moscow was densely built,

and most of its structures were wooden.

Fires were frequent, but this one was exceptional.

♪♪ (fire roaring)

Amma Agbedor: The fire broke out during a windstorm

and the high winds fanned the flames.

Powerful blasts from stockpiles of gunpowder

that were being kept in the city only added to the inferno.

A third of Moscow's buildings were destroyed

and thousands of people died.

James Ellis: As for the Kremlin, the Tsar's rooms,

the treasury, ancient scrolls, precious swords,

and all kinds of other treasures were obliterated.

So if Ivan's library was anywhere above ground,

it could have been destroyed like everything else.

Alison Leonard: It's certainly possible that the library

perished in the fire.

But there's no mention in any records of Ivan

suffering such a great loss.

So, while it's hard to disprove that theory,

there isn't any existing evidence

that supports it, either.

Narrator: Ivan the Terrible, the first Tsar of all the Russias,

took the truth about his precious library to his grave.

James Ellis: About three years after moving back

to the Kremlin, Ivan suffered a stroke

and died while playing a game of chess.

His library was lost to history,

and as he'd killed his son and heir,

his family line didn't long outlive him.

Alison Leonard: There are still plenty of places

Ivan's library might be - the town of Sergiyev Posad,

the settlement of Dyakovo, along the Moscow River...

or even the unexplored passages beneath the Kremlin.

But who knows?

Narrator: If the library Ivan the Terrible kept hidden

and protected all his life is ever found,

it will be the only positive legacy

of his cruel and unhappy life.

A gift of poetry and knowledge,

preserved by a twisted sociopath,

returned to benefit humanity.

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

Narrator: In July 1907,

a shadow fell over Dublin Castle,

the seat of British power in Ireland.

Arthur Vicars, the dedicated Ulster King of Arms,

was the man trusted to guard Ireland's most prized symbols

of British power, the illustrious regalia

of the Order of St. Patrick,

famously known as the Irish Crown Jewels.

But suddenly, this trust was shattered.

Alison Leonard: The Irish Crown Jewels, crafted in 1831

from 394 precious stones, including diamonds and emeralds

from Queen Charlotte's collection,

were more than just displays of wealth.

They embodied British authority in Ireland,

underscoring the Crown's dominance with rare gems,

such as a rose diamond gifted by the Sultan of Turkey,

and jewels from the Mughal Emperor, Shah Alam.

James Ellis: Security at Bedford Tower,

where the jewels were housed,

was thought to be nearly impregnable.

Arthur Vicars held two keys to the safe,

one he kept on a chain, and the other hidden at home.

Meanwhile, seven other staff members held keys

to the Office of Arms.

But in the months leading up to July 1907,

repeated warnings about lax security were ignored.

Anthea Nardi: The jewels, worth an estimated

$5.5 million US dollars today,

were last seen on June 11, 1907.

On July 6, the very morning they were to be used

in a knighting ceremony for Lord Castletown

during King Edward VII's visit.

Vicars' staff discovered the safe had been tampered with

and the jewels were gone.

So how did someone breach such a secure location

without leaving a trace,

and where did the crown jewels go?

Narrator: The Irish Crown Jewels,

comprising a jewel-encrusted star, badge, and collars,

held significant historical and political value.

Their placement in Dublin Castle set the stage for a scandal

that would unravel Arthur Vicars' life.

Adam Bunch: Originally, the jewels were often stored

at the West and Son Jewelers,

who were known for their tight security.

So when they were moved to Dublin Castle in 1903,

security actually became more lax,

with more points of access and much less oversight.

Alison Leonard: Vicars had proposed securing the jewels

in a newly constructed strongroom

within Bedford Tower.

But a miscalculation prevented the safe

from fitting through the doorway,

so it was placed in the library outside the strongroom,

a waiting room with multiple entry points

and visible to passing visitors.

James Ellis: In 1905, Vicars himself drafted

new office statutes requiring

that the jewels be kept in a strongroom.

But despite his meticulous nature,

he never followed through on relocating them.

This oversight, combined with the steady flow of visitors

and Vicars' occasional mishandling of keys,

created the perfect storm for a security breach.

Anthea Nardi: Vicars had a reputation for casually

showing off the regalia to visitors,

a habit that had raised security concerns.

By late June, he had already misplaced a key

and was relying more heavily on staff and security guards,

who noticed lapses like unlocked doors,

all red flags that went ignored.

Narrator: Whispers of negligence grew into murmurs of suspicion,

hinting that the theft was more than just oversight.

Adam Bunch: The Office of Arms was fertile ground

for an inside job.

Vicars was responsible for the jewels,

but was negligent in his duty.

He let his staff and others have easy access to the keys,

and oversaw a culture of complacency.

He even threw parties in the library.

Suspicion soon extended to his inner circle,

including Francis Shackleton,

who knew the castle's layout, inside and out.

Alison Leonard: Francis Shackleton, the brother of

famous Antarctic explorer Ernest Shackleton,

was a man of contradictions.

On the surface, he moved effortlessly through

elite circles in Dublin and London,

even holding a prestigious post as Dublin's herald of arms.

But beneath his charm, Shackleton struggled

with escalating debts and a lavish lifestyle

he could barely afford.

James Ellis: Shackleton was close to Vicars,

sharing lodgings with him, which granted him easy access

to both the Office of Arms and the keys to the safe.

And for those who knew of his financial problems,

the idea that he might have orchestrated a theft

out of necessity, seemed all too plausible.

Narrator: Shackleton's circle included even more complex

and enigmatic figures, whose own troubled pasts

and audacious personalities would only deepen

the mystery of the heist.

Anthea Nardi: One of Shackleton's closest associates

was Captain Richard Gorges,

a military officer with a bad reputation.

He too was intimately familiar with Dublin Castle,

and given his checkered history, he was the kind of man

who could play a role in a high-stakes operation.

Adam Bunch: One of the leading theories is that Gorges,

who knew the castle's layout well,

and Shackleton, who might have had access to the safe,

teamed up on a plan together.

Some reports claim they might have even gotten Vicars

drunk enough to pass out so they could copy his key

and slip in and out undetected.

Alison Leonard: When the Dublin Metropolitan Police

investigated, they found no forced entry,

or any marks on the locks that would suggest tampering.

This could mean that the safe had been opened with

copied keys, with the originals, or by professionals.

James Ellis: Inspector John Kane of Scotland Yard,

who was called in to investigate,

quickly became convinced of an internal conspiracy.

But Kane's report was abruptly dismissed,

and he was mysteriously recalled to London.

This sparked rumors of a cover-up,

suggesting that certain powerful interests had something to hide.

But no proof that the theft was perpetrated

by someone inside the castle walls ever surfaced.

Narrator: In a country poised on the edge of political upheaval,

some believed the disappearance held a more profound,

symbolic meaning.

Anthea Nardi: The theft may have been a strategic move

to humiliate British authority,

a bold statement signaling the rising strength

of Irish independence groups.

At the time, nationalist sentiment was intensifying,

and an act like this would have struck a powerful chord

with a population calling for independence.

Adam Bunch: The jewels were a famous symbol

of the British Crown,

so they were also an obvious target for Irish nationalists

who wanted to challenge British rule.

Stealing them would be an act of defiance,

a powerfully symbolic gesture meant to undermine

British authority in Ireland.

Narrator: With acts targeting symbols of British power

on the rise, nationalist groups grew bolder

in their challenge to the Crown's dominance

and the theft of the jewels fit this pattern perfectly.

Alison Leonard: Nationalist movements were adept

at wielding symbolism for propaganda.

If they orchestrated the heist,

it was likely not for monetary gain,

but for the statement it made.

The disappearance of the jewels played into the narrative

of British weakness, amplifying the cause of Irish independence.

James Ellis: This has all the markings of a covert operation

that prized secrecy over recognition.

If the heist was linked to the Irish Independence movement,

the jewels were likely hidden away as a nationalist trophy,

never intended to resurface.

Anthea Nardi: Though this theory fueled Irish independence

fervor, no concrete evidence or claims of responsibility

ever emerged.

Narrator: For some observers,

the silence surrounding the heist hints at motives

that go beyond political defiance.

Adam Bunch: The jewels were worth millions in today's money.

So it's possible they were also just stolen for the money,

to be sold into the shadowy world of European black markets,

operating in big trading hubs like Antwerp and Amsterdam,

that would have been easy to reach from Dublin.

Alison Leonard: If broken down into individual stones,

it would have effectively erased their origin

and the jewels could have easily vanished

into Europe's bustling markets,

leaving no trace of them behind.

James Ellis: The meticulous nature of the heist

suggests this was no ordinary smash-and-grab.

The operation bore the marks of seasoned professionals,

likely experienced in handling valuable gems

and with a knowledge of how to sell them quietly.

Among the suspects, one name stands out:

Francis Bennett-Goldney, an antiquities enthusiast

with deep ties to European jewel markets

and a reputation for ambition.

Anthea Nardi: Bennett-Goldney was a political figure

and artifact collector, who joined the Office of Arms

just months before the theft.

With known ties to European jewel markets,

he became the prime suspect for those who believed

the jewels were smuggled abroad.

Adam Bunch: Bennett-Goldney doesn't seem to have been

in Ireland at the time of the heist,

but plenty of people have wondered about his interest

in rare artifacts,

his connections to international markets,

and especially about the fact that when he died,

it turned out his house was full of things

he'd stolen during his lifetime,

including famous paintings and ancient documents.

Alison Leonard: That fall, he fit his car with an oversized

gas tank for an extended trip to Amsterdam,

accompanied by none other than J.P. Morgan,

a financier with deep ties to art and antiquities circles

known for discreet and sometimes shadowy acquisitions.

James Ellis: Despite all the circumstantial evidence,

no clear financial trail or witness testimony

has ever surfaced to confirm

that the jewels were sold off in Europe.

Narrator: Although there have been extensive investigations

and countless theories, the fate of the Irish Crown Jewels

remains an unsolved mystery.

Anthea Nardi: The more we learn about the cast of characters,

Vicars, Shackleton, Bennett-Goldney,

the more elusive the truth becomes.

These weren't ordinary suspects;

they were men with powerful connections,

bold ambitions, and, in some cases,

motives that could explain the disappearance.

Adam Bunch: Vicars was ruined by the scandal.

Forced out of his post, but he professed his innocence

until his dying days, claiming he was just a scapegoat.

His life came to a bloody end in 1921,

when he was killed by the IRA

during the Irish war of independence,

a reminder of just how intertwined his own life was

with the political tensions in Ireland.

Narrator: Over a century later,

the disappearance of the Irish Crown Jewels continues

to captivate historians and regular citizens alike.

The true story remains lost to time,

buried among rumors and the silence of those

who knew more than they ever revealed.

♪♪

♪♪

Narrator: In late 1941, as Japan's forces invaded China,

America struggled to save and evacuate

as many noncombatants as possible.

Among the evacuees, were dozens of individuals

who had been dead for roughly 500,000 years.

The prized fossils of Sinanthropus pekinensis,

Peking Man.

♪♪

Anthea Nardi: The Peking Man fossils were discovered

in the early 1920s near the village of Zhoukoudian,

30 miles southwest of Peking,

which was what Beijing was then known as,

and they were believed to be between 400,000

and 780,000 years old.

This was an important discovery,

Peking Man was identified as a new hominid species,

and the hope was that the remains could provide

new information in the study of human ancestry.

Adam Bunch: They seem to have had relatively big brains,

a cranial capacity of about 60 cubic inches,

some almost 80 inches,

which is getting close to the size of modern humans.

And there were ash deposits at the Zhoudoukian site too,

that some think that might be evidence

that Peking Man could control fire.

Amma Agbedor: The Americans knew that the Peking Man fossils

were of significant scientific importance,

so they devised a plan to sneak them out of Peking,

get them on a train,

and then a transport ship to New York,

so they could be preserved until the war ended.

(war planes humming)

A. Nardi: But then the attack on Pearl Harbour happened.

(war planes buzzing)

(bombs exploding)

Japan was on the offensive, and American rescuers

were now fighting to save their own lives.

Somewhere along the way,

the crates containing the bones of Peking Man disappeared.

So where did they go?

Adam Bunch: In November of 1941,

some workers from "Peking Union Medical College",

which was owned by the Americans,

carefully prepared the skulls to be moved.

According to one account,

they wrapped each fossil in lens paper,

soft enough to wipe a microscope's lens,

then placed them in small boxes,

and loaded them into a pair of big wooden crates.

Anthea Nardi: From the Medical College,

the crates were to be driven to the train station

and loaded onto trains.

Marines would accompany them to the Port of Qinhuandao,

then onto a transport ship, the SS President Harrison,

which would set sail for America.

But somewhere in this process, the Peking Man fossils vanished.

Narrator: There were no verifiable eyewitness accounts

or official records of the crates

being unloaded at Qinhuandao.

Suspicions and conspiracy theories were born

that would swirl for decades.

Adam Bunch: Some have wondered whether the fossils

might have been stolen from the train.

Years later, Marine guards said that it had been stopped

by Japanese soldiers who ransacked the baggage,

taking any valuables they found.

And that has sparked speculations that those soldiers

might have taken the crates themselves.

Amma Agbedor: But the thing is, these accounts are third

or fourth-hand by now and were never verified.

Adam Bunch: Some people accused the United States

of stealing them, but that would raise even more questions,

like why would the Americans offer to help

only to steal them for themselves,

given that they'd have to keep them secret?

So they would never be able to put them on display in a museum,

or publish any scientific papers about them.

So it's not entirely clear what they'd have to gain from it.

Narrator: One of the few things all parties knew with certainty

was that after the train arrived at Quinhuandao,

the crates did not get loaded onto the SS President Harrison,

as planned, because the ship never arrived.

Amma Agbedor: The Harrison had been steaming north

from Manila with a crew of 154,

with orders to proceed to Quinhuandao,

to bring out the marines,

and the two crates with them.

En route, the ship's captain was seeing

large numbers of Japanese vessels,

but America hadn't officially entered the war,

so the Harrison wasn't in any clear danger.

And then in the middle of the night,

the captain received word,

'Pearl Harbor had just been attacked.'

Anthea Nardi: Suddenly, America was at war with Japan,

and at dawn, the Harrison was spotted.

Japanese destroyers approached but didn't fire.

So it was clear to the captain that the Japanese

wanted to take the Harrison intact.

He couldn't let that happen,

so he ran the Harrison at full speed for the nearest land mass

and intentionally drove it over the island's rocky edge,

tearing a 90-foot gash in the hull.

Narrator: Even though the Harrison

never picked up the crates,

some have said the search for the Peking Man fossils

shouldn't continue on land, but rather under the ocean.

Amma Agbedor: If the crates did make it to Qinhuandao,

they could have been loaded onto any one of several

Japanese transport ships,

carrying goods and people to Japan.

Several of those transports were sunk by the allies,

sometimes mistakenly.

So did the fossils go down on one of those ships?

Adam Bunch: The wreck of one transport ship, the Awa Maru,

was found in the 1970s.

There were rumors that it carried a fortune in diamonds

and gold and other treasures,

so there was a huge effort to explore it.

In the end, they didn't find any treasure,

just personal effects and some of the crew's remains.

And there was no trace of the two crates

of Peking Man fossils either.

But there are lots of other Second World War-era wrecks

that haven't been searched, so it's possible

the crates could still be down there

on the sea floor somewhere.

Anthea Nardi: Another possibility is that the Japanese

loaded the crates onto one of the transport ships

that were not torpedoed and successfully made it to Japan.

But no hard evidence has surfaced

that would support this theory.

Searches by the Japanese and Americans in Japan

have yielded nothing.

♪♪

Narrator: In 2010, close to seven decades after

Peking Man's fossils had last been seen,

one of the most credible leads yet

came from a former Marine.

Anthea Nardi: This Marine had been stationed at Camp Holcomb,

in Qinhuandao, with one of the last American units

to be evacuated during the civil war

between China's Nationalist and Communist parties in 1947,

about five and half years

after the Peking Man fossils had gone missing.

The unit was pinned down in heavy crossfire

between the two sides, and by nightfall,

the men had to dig foxholes for protection.

Amma Agbedor: While digging, they hit a wooden box,

which turned out to have bones in it, and understandably,

they were startled, so they reburied it.

But decades later, the Marine told his son

about the incident, who then contacted a researcher

who'd been searching for the fossils for years,

and relayed his father's story.

Adam Bunch: The location matched another account

from two other Marines, who said

they'd unloaded the crates from the train at Qinhuandao

and delivered them to Camp Holcomb on December 4th, 1941.

So just days before Pearl Harbor and the United States

officially entering the war.

Anthea Nardi: It's plausible that in the chaos

of the evacuation, the officer responsible for the fossils

decided to bury them in their crates,

as the best short-term way to hide them from the Japanese,

and that later nobody who knew about the fossils

and where they'd been buried had survived to tell about it.

Narrator: In November of 2010,

following the guidance of the retired Marine,

university researchers visited the site

where the Peking Man fossils may have been buried and found

that it was covered by warehouses and a parking lot.

Amma Agbedor: The local Cultural Heritage Office was alerted

and agreed to monitor any further redevelopment

of the area, and for any signs of those wooden crates.

And as of now, the mystery of the missing Peking Man's fossils

remains unsolved.

Narrator: Before the bones were put into the crates

at the Peking Union Medical College,

an employee had the foresight to make detailed casts

of the most important specimens,

so researchers have had those to study.

Parts of the Zhoukoudian site

are yet to be thoroughly excavated,

so there's a chance more skulls may be found.

One way or another, Peking Man

may yet raise his head again.

♪♪