When it comes to spooky season, most people reach for the same handful of classics, but there’s a treasure trove of overlooked gems waiting to be unearthed. In this roundup of 10 forgotten halloween specials, we’ll shine a light on the stand‑alone shows that slipped through the cracks, offering everything from psychedelic monster mash‑ups to heartfelt witchy adventures.

10 Forgotten Halloween Specials: Hidden Gems

10 Mad Monster Party?

Rankin and Bass, the creative duo behind beloved Christmas staples like Rudolph the Red‑Nosed Reindeer, Jack Frost, and Frosty the Snowman, turned their attention to Halloween in the mid‑1960s. Fresh off the success of Rudolph and the theatrical feature Willy McBean and His Magic Machine, they launched a full‑length Halloween special that oozes psychedelic flair, complete with an original rock‑era soundtrack and a star‑studded voice cast.

The roster includes horror legends such as Boris Karloff, Allen Swift, Phyllis Diller, and Ethel Ennis, alongside classic monsters like Frankenstein, the Mummy, Count Dracula, the Werewolf, and more. Rather than a throwaway cartoon, the film showcases Rankin/Bass’s signature “Animagic” stop‑motion technique, chronicling a wild gathering at Dr. Frankenstein’s castle where the mad scientist invites both his monstrous friends and his human nephew.

With its kaleidoscopic visuals and tongue‑in‑cheek humor, Mad Monster Party? feels like a time‑capsule trip to a groovier, monster‑filled Halloween that’s absolutely worth revisiting.

9 The Flintstones Meet Rockula And Frankenstone

While regular cartoon Halloween episodes don’t count for this list, this 1980 NBC TV‑movie stands apart from the usual Flintstones fare. Airing on October 3, 1980, the special treats fans to a one‑off adventure that isn’t bound by the series’ continuity.

Fred and Wilma win a vacation on a game show called Make a Deal or Don’t, landing them at Count Rockula’s spooky castle in Rocksylvania. They bring along Betty and Barney, only to discover that Rockula is secretly concocting a Frankenstone monster in his laboratory.

The prehistoric slapstick humor blends seamlessly with a barrage of Halloween gags and Frankenstein references, making this a uniquely entertaining entry that shines brighter than many regular episodes.

8 Witch’s Night Out

This late‑70s gem embraces a deliberately ugly, squiggly animation style that feels both wholesome and unsettling. The deliberately gross visuals give the cartoon a quirky edge, while the voice talent truly steals the show.

The titular witch, voiced by the incomparable Gilda Radner, is battling a deep‑seated Halloween blues. She laments that modern audiences no longer crave true scares, leaving her feeling obsolete. When two petty crooks nab the witch’s discarded magic wand—thrown away during her depressive slump—they misuse its power for mischief.

It falls to the witch and a pair of kids, who are home with a babysitter, to thwart the criminals before they turn the entire town into genuine monsters. The result is a delightfully bizarre adventure that balances humor, heart, and a dash of spooky chaos.

7 Frankenweenie (1984)

Most people associate Frankenweenie with Tim Burton’s 2012 feature, but the concept originated as a 1984 live‑action short that aired on the Disney Channel. The original tells the story of a young boy who resurrects his dead dog, Sparky, using a Frankenstein‑style experiment.

Despite its modest budget, the short captures the eerie charm of a classic Burton film, complete with a real‑life canine sporting bolts on its neck. Its blend of adorable creepiness makes it a nostalgic favorite for anyone who loves a good, slightly spooky pet revival tale.

6 The Last Halloween

Starring Rhea Perlman, this 1991 cult classic fuses Halloween hijinks with interstellar intrigue. Two Martian visitors crash‑land on Earth during Halloween, driven by a craving for candy to fuel their home planet.

They touch down in the small town of Crystal Lake, home to a massive candy factory. However, the factory’s scientists have been siphoning the town’s candy supply in a desperate quest for eternal youth, causing the candy economy to collapse and prompting a townwide relocation—hence, the “last Halloween.”

In just a half‑hour, the alien duo teams up with two local kids to savor their final Halloween before the town moves, delivering a quick yet satisfying blend of sci‑fi, comedy, and sweet nostalgia.

5 Halloween Is Grinch Night

The Grinch, usually associated with Christmas mischief, makes a Halloween‑themed comeback in this Emmy‑winning 1978 special. The Grinch despises Halloween, and the episode earned the Primetime Emmy for Outstanding Children’s Program.

When a “sour‑sweet wind” sweeps through Whoville, it signals Grinch Night. The Grinch and his loyal dog Max set out to terrorize the town, only to encounter a polite little boy who has wandered away. Instead of outright terror, the Grinch reveals his “paraphernalia wagon,” brimming with surreal, eerie monsters rendered in strikingly inventive animation.

The juxtaposition of the Grinch’s classic grumpiness with hauntingly beautiful visuals makes this special a unique, must‑watch entry for fans of both holidays.

4 The Worst Witch

Based on Jill Murphy’s beloved book series, The Worst Witch mirrors many Harry Potter tropes while carving its own whimsical niche. Fairuza Balk stars as Mildred Hubble, a hapless student at a prestigious witch academy who constantly flunks classes and endures bullying from snooty peers and stern teachers.

Despite her misfit status, Mildred unexpectedly becomes the hero who saves the school from rogue witches lurking in the woods. The film’s crowning moment is a cameo by Tim Curry, who delivers a funky 80s jam extolling why Halloween reigns supreme—an unforgettable musical interlude that cements the special’s cult status.

3 The Halloween Tree

Air­ing in October 1993 on Cartoon Network, The Halloween Tree follows four kids on a quest to uncover Halloween’s origins and rescue their friend Pip from the vengeful ghosts of Halloween past. Guided by a mystical figure, they embark on a globe‑spanning journey that traverses 4,000 years of tradition.

Adapted from Ray Bradbury’s book, the special blends educational history with animated adventure, showcasing the birth of many modern Halloween customs. Bradbury himself penned the screenplay, earning the program an Emmy and cementing its place as a timeless Halloween treasure.

2 The Halloween That Almost Wasn’t

This 1979 live‑action TV special stars Judd Hirsch as a beleaguered Count Dracula who learns that Halloween might be canceled forever because monsters have lost their edge. Watching a news broadcast, Dracula discovers that the public blames him for Halloween’s decline.

Fearing exile from Transylvania and a mundane life, Dracula rallies his monster comrades to revamp their terrifying reputations before Halloween vanishes entirely. The heartfelt yet humorous narrative underscores the importance of embracing one’s spooky heritage.

Originally aired on the Disney Channel, the special earned an Emmy and three additional nominations. It later resurfaced under the title The Night Dracula Saved the World, solidifying its status as a beloved, if overlooked, Halloween classic.

1 Halloweentown

Disney’s 1998 TV movie Halloweentown may not be “forgotten,” but it certainly deserves more recognition for its unique blend of camp, heart, and spooktacular charm. The story follows 13‑year‑old Marnie and her siblings as they visit their grandmother in the eponymous town, discovering that witchcraft runs in their blood.

As the teens grapple with their newfound magical abilities, they must unite to thwart a malevolent force threatening to destroy the world. While the franchise spawned several sequels, the original remains the most beloved, capturing the essence of a whimsical Halloween adventure.

Stephanie Weber, a comedian and writer whose work appears in outlets like Mental Floss, Slate, and The AV Club, contributed to the piece’s witty tone.

When you think of everyday produce, the usual suspects—tomatoes, bananas, potatoes, onions—come to mind. Yet there’s a whole hidden pantry of once‑popular fruits and vegetables that have slipped out of modern consciousness. In this roundup of 10 forgotten fruits, we travel back in time to meet the flavors that once ruled tables, gardens, and markets before being eclipsed by newer, flashier options.

Why These 10 Forgotten Fruits Still Matter Today

Beyond sheer curiosity, these lost edibles teach us about shifting agricultural trends, cultural preferences, and even ecological fragility. Some fell victim to the rise of high‑yield crops, others to changing tastes, and a few simply vanished because their habitats disappeared. By revisiting their stories, we gain insight into how food history is shaped and how we might revive forgotten flavors for future generations.

10 Taliaferro Apple

Thomas Jefferson, famed founding father and avid horticulturist, cultivated a remarkable apple at his Monticello estate known as the Taliaferro apple (Malus pumila). Jefferson boasted roughly a hundred trees bearing this variety, describing it as one of the juiciest apples he ever tasted. The fruit measured just one to two inches across, sporting a white skin streaked with red, and was prized for making crisp cider.

Unfortunately, the orchards that nurtured the Taliaferro apple vanished after Jefferson’s time, and with them the cultivar disappeared. Although occasional claims of rediscovery surface, none have been scientifically verified, leaving the Taliaferro apple firmly in the annals of lost horticulture.

9 Medlar

The medlar (Mespilus germanica) enjoyed prominence in ancient Greece and Rome, prized for its sweet, late‑season fruit. The tree’s dark‑green leaves measured three to six inches, turning vibrant hues in autumn. Its blossoms—pinkish‑white—gave way to round, brown fruits that, when fully ripe, softened into a spiced applesauce‑like texture.

Shakespeare famously likened the fruit’s shape to an “open arse,” and the French dubbed it “dog’s backside,” which contributed to its decline in popularity. Though still employed by a few artisans to craft jelly and liqueurs, the medlar has largely faded from contemporary markets.

8 Earthnut Pea

The earthnut pea (Lathyrus tuberosus) is a perennial native to the Mediterranean basin, stretching up to six and a half feet tall. Its oval, pointed leaves and clusters of pink, purple, or white flowers conceal underground tubers—brown, about two inches in diameter, and rich in starch.

Historically, Native American peoples harvested these tubers, and during World War II they even served as a potato substitute. Though sweet and nutty, the earthnut pea was eventually outcompeted by the faster‑growing, larger‑yielding potato, leading to its quiet disappearance from mainstream agriculture.

7 Murray’s Plum

First recorded in Texas’s rugged Davis Mountains in 1928, Murray’s plum (Prunus murrayana) remains an enigmatic, critically endangered shrub. Reaching up to 16 feet, it forms dense, thorny thickets, flaunting delicate white blossoms and hairy leaves that once surrounded tiny red fruits speckled with white dots and coated in wax.

Despite its striking description, no fruiting specimens have been observed for nearly a century, rendering the plant a botanical ghost. Its extreme rarity and erratic flowering make study difficult, and it now exists primarily in dusty field notes rather than thriving orchards.

6 Fat Hen

Often dismissed as a weed, fat hen (Chenopodium album) thrives in fields and gardens worldwide. Its upright habit, diamond‑shaped leaves, and clusters of small white flowers are often dusted with a powdery coating. While birds and insects readily consume it, humans once valued it as a nutritious green.

Belonging to the spinach family, fat hen cooks down like its leafy cousin and was a staple for lower‑income families before cultivated greens took precedence. In Europe it helped combat scurvy, and Native Americans employed it for skin and respiratory ailments, underscoring its overlooked health benefits.

5 Tagua Nuts

The tagua nut, harvested from South American tagua palms (Phytelephas macrocarpa), is famously dubbed “vegetable ivory.” These palms live up to 180 years, producing nuts after about a decade of growth. The nuts range from cherry‑size to grapefruit‑size, hardening over four to eight weeks into a material resembling elephant ivory.

Beyond its decorative uses—jewelry, sculptures, chess pieces—the immature nut contains a sweet, milky liquid that is edible. Though once a popular raw material, factories switched to plastics for cost reasons, leaving tagua nuts a niche product for those seeking sustainable, exclusive alternatives.

4 Ansault Pear

Cultivated in a French nursery and first bearing fruit in 1863, the Ansault pear (Pyrus communis) earned a reputation for exceptional quality. Larger than typical pears yet comparable in size to the common yellow‑green variety, it offered a buttery flavor, soft texture, and a uniquely pleasing taste.

Unfortunately, the tree’s irregular shape made it unsuitable for commercial orchards, prompting growers to abandon it in favor of more standardized varieties. By the twentieth century, the Ansault pear had vanished from cultivated landscapes, remembered only in historical accounts.

3 Skirret

Before the potato’s dominance, skirret (Sium sisarum) was a staple root crop throughout Europe. Its flavor hovered between parsnip and peppery carrot, and its white‑flowered clusters crowned carrot‑like roots. Originating in China, the Romans were the first Europeans to record its use.

Skirret served both culinary and medicinal roles—enhancing digestion, supporting urinary health, and even, according to folklore, neutralizing snake venom. Yet the potato’s larger yields and easier cultivation relegated skirret to the background, now surviving mainly in hobbyist gardens.

2 Tava

The tava tree (Pometia pinnata) spans Sri Lanka, Southeast Asia, Vietnam, Tonga, and Niue, reaching heights of 40 to 70 feet with a broad canopy up to 50 feet wide. Its flowers develop into the tava (or matoa) fruit, which ripens over three months into a reddish‑black, soft‑yet‑tough edible berry.

Indigenous Pacific islanders once relied on this fruit as a seasonal staple, appreciating its quick growth after harsh conditions. However, its brief fruiting window and competition from higher‑yielding trees led to diminished cultivation, making the fruit a rare treat for those who venture to the islands today.

1 Silphium

Silphium (Silphium integrifolium) was a celebrated Roman herb, revered as a miracle cure and culinary enhancer. Romans consumed it as a contraceptive, a remedy for fevers, chills, nausea, headaches, and sore throats, and even used its delicate blossoms to craft perfume.

The plant’s stout roots, stumpy leaves, tiny yellow flowers, and flavorful sap made it a versatile condiment—sap drizzled over food, stalks roasted or boiled, roots dipped in vinegar. Its exclusive growing requirements and overwhelming demand led to overharvesting, and by the first century AD the species was driven to extinction.

Rome annihilated Carthage to ensure it would never again rise as a major threat. The Ottomans forever ended Byzantium’s glory. The vast armies of Persia were repeatedly beaten back by the Greeks, subjugated by the might of Alexander, and destroyed by the rise of Islam. The fates of once great and proud nations fill the pages of history books—and then there are those forgotten powers even the history books seldom mention.

10 Forgotten Nations Overview

In this article we dive into 10 forgotten nations that once ruled the land, uncovering their spectacular histories and why they faded from memory.

10 Burgundy

France’s greatest historical rivals are often considered to be England or Germany. Yet, for a time, Burgundy was arguably its greatest opponent.

We’ve previously mentioned how Louis the Pious, son of Charlemagne, divided the Carolingian Empire among his sons. His eldest, Lothair, received a vast swath of land that included what would become Burgundy. Over time, a powerful duchy evolved, controlling Burgundy proper, Alsace, Lorraine, Flanders, and Holland. At its height during the 15th century, it was one of the richest and most powerful states in Europe. The Burgundian’s rivalry with France knew no bounds—from betraying Joan of Arc to the English, to fighting on foreign soil during the War of the Roses.

For a time, it seemed that fortune favored Burgundy. Indeed, had history turned out differently, proper French might have been a mere dialect and Bourgignon the norm. The sudden death of Duke Charles the Bold on January 5, 1477 changed things entirely, raising the question of the Burgundian Inheritance. Charles’s only heir was his daughter, who was supposed to marry into the French royal house. Instead, she married Maximilian I, the Holy Roman Emperor and head of the House of Habsburg. In the subsequent race to claim the Burgundian lands, France merely traded one great rival for two more—Austria and Spain.

9 Novgorod

The city of Novgorod, whose residents sometimes called it “Lord Novgorod the Great,” truly lived up to its name. Under the leadership of Alexander Nevsky, the Novgorodians vigorously defended their beloved city against invasions from Sweden and the Teutonic Knights. Though they were subjugated by the Mongols, they managed to retain a degree of independent rule and even rose to prosperity.

By the 14th century, Novgorod had become one of the busiest trading ports in Europe—an estimated 400,000 people lived in the city. The Novgorod Republic stretched from the Arctic Circle to the Ural Mountains. The people of Novgorod cherished their independence, beyond the grasp of autocratic kings.

Sadly, this state of affairs wouldn’t last forever. The Principality of Muscovy had long been jealous of Novgorod’s riches. Furthermore, Novgorod’s ties with Catholic Lithuania were anathema to the stern Orthodox doctrine followed by the Muscovites.

Ivan III, also known as “Ivan the Great,” invaded the city in 1471, subsequently annexing it in 1478. Nearly 100 years later, another Ivan, known to history as “Ivan the Terrible,” would lead his armies to massacre and exile many of Novgorod’s citizens, burning much of the city, and destroying priceless historical records. The glory of Novgorod was no more. It would be Muscovy (Moscow) that would become the center of Russian politics and society.

8 Khitai

During the 12th century A.D., the Khitan people, led by Yelu Dashi, fled west to escape the onslaught of the Jurchen tribes. Their Liao Dynasty empire in Northern China was no more, and they faced a grueling journey across the arid steppes to find a new place in the world.

By A.D. 1134, Yelu Dashi and his people had arrived in Balasagun, in modern-day Kyrgyzstan. Further conquests soon established a new empire—the Western Liao. Thanks to their Chinese heritage, the Khitan practiced Buddhism mixed with Animist beliefs, while the majority of their new subjects were Muslim. Despite this, there was only harmony. In fact, some Muslims believed that their Khitan overlords were the “wall” between the Islamic world and the barbarous hordes beyond.

Decades of prosperity passed until the arrival of Kuchlug, a prince of the Naiman tribe of Mongolia, who fled after his father was killed by Genghis Khan. Kuchlug, a Nestorian Christian, sought refuge among the Khitan and was even allowed to marry a Khitan princess. In A.D. 1211, Kuchlug usurped the throne, then began campaigns against neighboring Muslim kingdoms, forcibly converting captives to the Nestorian faith.

Seeing his chance, Genghis Khan sent his best lieutenants, Jebe Noyan and Subotai, to capture Kuchlug. Angered at the usurper’s actions, the Khitans readily welcomed the invaders. Kuchlug was defeated in battle and eventually beheaded in 1218. After the relatively peaceful conquest, the Mongols found that the formerly nomadic Khitan had become experts in statecraft and administration. They were assimilated into the Mongol Empire, not as soldiers, but as some of its finest civil officials.

The short-lived empire of the Khitan may have contributed to the legend of Prester John, a mythical Christian figure whom Crusaders believed would assault Muslim lands from the rear. Some historians claim that the Khitan’s earlier conquests helped fuel the legend, while others suggest that Kuchlug, as a Nestorian Christian, added to the stories.

The Khitan also had one more contribution to history. The old European name for China, “Cathay,” is derived from “Khitan.” Indeed, they were known in Europe as the “Qara-Khitai,” the “Black Cathays.”

7 Vijayanagar

The Vijayanagar Empire ruled southern India for over 300 years, from 1336 to 1646. Domingo Paes, a Portuguese chronicler, marveled at how its capital was “as large as Rome and very beautiful to the sight; the palace of the king is larger than the castle at Lisbon.” Another Portuguese traveler, Duarte Barbosa, was astonished at how tolerant its rulers were of people of other faiths. Barbosa explained that Vijayanagar “allowed such religious freedom that every man may come and go, and live according to his own creed—whether Christian, Jew, Moor, or Hindu.”

Life was good in the empire, most notably during the reign of Krishnadevaraya, when the empire reached its greatest extent, defeating numerous Muslim invasions. Unfortunately, his successors were unable to fill the void he left behind. His son‑in‑law, Ramaraja, usurped the throne and plotted to have the neighboring Deccan Sultanates fight among themselves, allowing him to attack when they were weakened. Unfortunately, his plan backfired—the Deccan Sultanates ended their rivalries and allied to crush Vijayanagar. On January 23, 1565, Vijayanagar’s armies were destroyed and Ramaraja himself was soon executed.

Murder and pillaging followed nonstop for almost six months. When a Venetian traveler arrived at the old capital three years later “it had degenerated into a den of brigands, a pile of carbonized ruins invaded by creepers and tigers.” Some of Vijayanagar’s princes and administrators escaped to rebuild, though their works were a faded shadow of what the empire had once been. The city’s ruins are now a major tourist destination and a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

6 Majapahit

Those lucky enough to visit the beautiful island of Bali, Indonesia might wonder why a predominantly Islamic nation has such an abundance of Hindu temples. The answer can be traced back to 1293, when the Mongols were turned back from capturing Java by Raden Wijaya, the founder of the Majapahit Empire. With the Mongols defeated, Raden Wijaya and his successors set about expanding their domain. The Majapahit controlled the sea lanes, bringing untold riches to their domain. Their fleets sailed throughout modern‑day Indonesia, obtaining submission or tribute.

The empire would reach its peak under Gajah Mada, a commoner who rose through the ranks to help restore King Jayanagara to power and subsequently became the commander of the king’s bodyguards. The king was later murdered by his physician—although many historians suggest the plot had been hatched by Gajah Mada himself after the king took his wife for his own. Gajah Mada became the most powerful man in Majapahit politics. He even made good on an oath, the “sumpah palapa,” that he would not eat spices until he conquered the entire archipelago (another interpretation would be that he would not enjoy special privileges or revenues from his subjects until he could subjugate the empire’s rivals).

Although the empire’s rulers were Hindu, Buddhism was also prevalent, with no evidence of conflict. In fact, Hindu and Buddhist ministers held equal status in court. Islam, which had been practiced by neighboring kingdoms, would later become the dominant religion as Majapahit trade and influence declined. Despite this turn of events, the people of Bali, with their many temples and gardens, still consider themselves descendants of the Majapahit.

5 The Hyskos

We’ve previously mentioned the Hurrians, a forgotten civilization which flourished in the Middle East during the second millennium B.C. They would later be subjugated by the Assyrians under King Shalmaneser I, who captured and blinded 14,400 Hurrians.

According to some historians, another group of Hurrian origins were the better‑known Hyksos, herdsmen and horsemen who migrated into Egypt around the 17th century B.C. The Hyksos eventually broke the power of the old Egyptian dynasties and would rule the Nile Delta for 108 years.

The Hyksos revered an unnamed Asiatic storm god, whom historians have compared to the Egyptian god Seth. Archaeological work has revealed that the Hyksos had unique Canaanite temples, Palestinian‑type burials (including those of horses), as well as frescoes that had some similarities with the Minoans.

The Hyksos introduced new weaponry to the Egyptians, including the composite bow, sickle‑sword, improved battleaxes, and mail armor. The Hyksos expertise with horses led many historians to believe that they were the ones who brought war chariots to Egypt. All of these innovations would later be used against them—the Egyptians drove them out completely around 1521 B.C.

4 Cahokia

In 1982, the Cahokia Mounds State Historic Site was designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The largest pre‑Columbian settlement north of Mexico, the site contains approximately 120 mounds of various sizes. The best‑known is Monk’s Mound, the largest prehistoric earthwork in the Americas.

During the Woodland Period from A.D. 700–900, the emergent people of the Mississippi gradually settled in Cahokia. There was a dramatic increase in the population around 200 years later—it was around this time that Monk’s Mound was constructed. After A.D. 1100, the population in Cahokia began to steadily decline.

Although some early European settlers might have stumbled upon the old city and its mysterious mounds, no detailed accounts have survived. In fact, the oldest written description of Cahokia was compiled by Henry Brackenridge, a lawyer, amateur historian, and friend of Thomas Jefferson. Brackenridge claimed that he was “struck with a degree of astonishment, not unlike that which is experienced in contemplating the pyramids” upon seeing the great mounds. Newspapers took little note of his work—leading him to complain to Jefferson himself. It didn’t help.

By the turn of the 20th century, horseradish farmers had turned Cahokia’s second‑biggest mound into a landfill. Subsequently, a subdivision was built on another part of the site and other mounds were destroyed for gambling sites and a pornographic drive‑in. Ignorance led humanity’s quest for knowledge astray and there is much we now may never know about this amazing civilization.

3 Caral And The Norte Chico Civilization

For centuries, historians and archaeologists have combed the Indus Valley, Mesopotamia, Egypt, China’s Yellow River, and the Americas in search of a “Mother Civilization”—one of the sites where complex, city‑dwelling societies independently developed.

In 1994, Peruvian archaeologist Ruth Shady Solis and her team began excavating and studying the Caral site in the Supe Valley near Peru’s western coast. What they found was astonishing.

Six large pyramids once stood in its vast central zone; several smaller pyramids, plazas, temples, amphitheaters, and residential districts were also part of the area. The oldest artifact found at the site was from 2627 B.C., predating the Great Pyramid of Giza by around 50 years. The Olmecs, long believed to have been the first great civilization of the Americas, emerged around 1,400 years after Caral. Solis and her team also discovered that, unlike many civilizations, the people of Caral banded together and prospered not for mutual defense or warfare, but for trade. Indeed, no weapons, battlements, or mutilated bodies have been found at the site. However, Solis has noted that Caral might have simply been the center or capital of the actual civilization, which could have spanned over much of the Norte Chico region of Peru.

Other experts still argue about whether Caral was truly a “Mother Civilization,” as Solis suggested that it might be. Indeed, new discoveries in light of her findings have revealed even more ancient sites being discovered in Norte Chico. One, Huaricanga, has been dated to at least 3500 B.C., which would make it the oldest city in the Americas.

2 Ghana, Mali, And Songhai

Today, West Africa is home to some of the poorest nations in the world. But from the 8th century to the 16th, things were very much different. The kingdoms of Ghana, Mali, and Songhai were dazzling pinnacles of wealth and culture.

The Empire of Ghana flourished in what is now Mali and Mauritania (far to the north of modern Ghana) and was primarily composed of the Mande people. The sub‑Saharan region known as the Sahel, now mostly arid plains, was once a fertile savannah suitable for farming and raising livestock, allowing Ghana to prosper.

As Ghana eventually went into decline, the Empire of Mali rose to take its place. Of note is arguably its greatest ruler, the famously wealthy Mansa (Emperor) Musa I, who completed a pilgrimage to Mecca in A.D. 1325. While passing through Egypt, it was said that he gave away so much gold that its value substantially decreased in Cairo.

Sonni Ali of Songhai was an able commander known for his expert horsemen and amphibious assaults via canoes. His aggressive policies led to a period of expansion, most notably the capture of Timbuktu, West Africa’s foremost intellectual city. His successor Askia Mohammad Toure brought Songhai to its zenith. Toure, a devout Muslim, would also complete the Hajj and even be declared Caliph of all of the Sudan.

Expeditions from Morocco would eventually arrive in pursuit of lands and riches. The once proud halls of the Mande and Soninku peoples were destroyed, the gallant warriors no match against the tide of imperialism. Monuments such as the Mosque of Djenne and the libraries of Timbuktu now serve as reminders of West Africa’s faded glory. Indeed, centuries of civil strife, slavery, and war have led the region to become what it is today. It is a humbling thought that when Europe was experiencing some of its darkest years, it was in West Africa where light shone brightest.

1 Khazaria

For 200 years, from the seventh to ninth centuries, there was an empire of Turkic Jews which spanned the entire Crimean Peninsula, the Caucasus region, and most of modern‑day Ukraine and Georgia. It was called Khazaria, and it dominated trade in the region despite many external threats.

The Khazars were originally nomads who practiced Tengriism. Over time, many converted to monotheistic religions, primarily Judaism. There were also thousands of Christians and Muslims in the empire—religious freedom and tolerance was a key factor to its stability.

Indeed, one essay characterized the Khazars as “an unusual phenomenon.” They were surrounded by pagan nomads, yet they had a structured government, a prosperous trade system, and an organized army. At a point in history when “great fanaticism and deep ignorance” raged throughout Western Europe, Khazaria was famed for its justice and tolerance. One historian put it quite succinctly: “Khazaria was the one place in the medieval world where the Jews were their own masters.”

Numerous wars between the Khazars and Arabs marked the seventh and eighth centuries, with neither side able to conquer the other. The Khazars proved to be a valuable ally to the Byzantine Empire, becoming a buffer against Islamic invasion from one side.

Ultimately, Khazaria would meet its demise when the Russian Prince Sviatoslav began his relentless conquest of Eastern Europe. The prince of the Kievan Rus believed Constantinople was his ultimate prize, but to get there he had to take out Byzantium’s allies one by one. Sviatoslav subjugated the Bolghars then turned his eyes toward Khazaria in 965. The major fortress of Sarkel was destroyed, and the capital of Itil was razed to the ground. Later visitors would remark that in Itil “no grape or raisin remained; no leaf on a branch.” Such was the destruction wrought by the prince.

Khazaria’s light was all but extinguished—a once mighty empire reduced to a rump state. “The glistening star on the gloomy horizon of Europe faded without leaving traces of its existence.”

When you think of remote landmasses, the phrase “10 deserted islands” probably conjures images of pristine beaches and tropical bliss. Yet history proves that many of these isolated spots have served as stages for some of humanity’s strangest, most unsettling dramas. From forced exile to murderous madness, each of these forgotten isles carries a story that is as gripping as it is chilling.

10 Deserted Islands: Unveiling Their Dark Histories

10 The Isle of Demons

Off the icy coast of Newfoundland lies the forlorn Isle of Demons, a name bestowed by the native peoples who believed the rock was haunted by malevolent spirits. In 1542 French noblewoman Marguerite de la Rocque found herself cast onto this bleak shore after being caught in an illicit affair during a sea voyage. The captain—who was also a relative—ordered her exile, leaving her with only a lover and a servant for company. The trio cobbled together a rudimentary shelter from the island’s unforgiving climate and ferocious wildlife. Their ordeal grew even more harrowing when Marguerite gave birth; within sixteen months, her lover, her servant, and the newborn all perished. Defying all odds, Marguerite survived alone for two years, subsisting on whatever she could hunt, until fishermen rescued her in 1544 and escorted her back to Europe. The island’s ominous moniker, originally meant to reflect indigenous superstitions, likely took on a personal resonance for Marguerite after her grueling experience.

9 Más a Tierra (Robinson Crusoe Island)

Chile’s Más a Tierra, now known as Robinson Crusoe Island, is famed for hosting Alexander Selkirk, the real-life inspiration for Daniel Defoe’s classic novel. Yet few know the bizarre circumstances that led to his abandonment. In 1704 Selkirk clashed with his ship’s captain over the vessel’s deteriorating condition and, convinced the ship was doomed, demanded to be left on the island. He believed rescue would be swift, but the island remained isolated for years. Over four solitary years, Selkirk’s sanity wavered; he kept his mind from unraveling by dancing with the island’s goats and cats, constructing huts from pimento trees, and training the cats to guard against rats that would gnaw at his feet during sleep. When an English privateer finally sighted him in 1709, the crew could barely recognize the once-civilized sailor—his speech was fractured, and his movements resembled those of a wild animal.

8 Roatan Island

Roatan, a Honduran cay, became the reluctant refuge of Philip Ashton, a Massachusetts fisherman who endured one of the most astonishing survival narratives of the 18th century. After being seized by the notorious pirate Edward Low in 1722, Ashton endured nine brutal months of captivity before escaping to the uninhabited parts of Roatan. For the subsequent sixteen months he survived on a diet dominated by wild fruit and raw turtle eggs, living in stark isolation. A brief interlude occurred when another English castaway arrived, offering a knife, a firearm, and gunpowder—essential tools that briefly eased Ashton’s plight before the stranger vanished without a trace. Ashton’s ordeal was marked by bouts of illness, venomous snake encounters, and even an attack by Spanish forces. When a British vessel finally rescued him in 1724, many dismissed his tale as fanciful, yet his detailed account persisted. To this day, legends whisper of buried pirate treasure and restless specters haunting the island’s shores.

7 Elephant Island

Antarctica’s stark Elephant Island earned its reputation as a crucible of human endurance during Ernest Shackleton’s ill-fated 1914 expedition. After the Endurance was crushed by relentless pack ice, its 28‑man crew drifted on ice floes for five grueling months before finally washing ashore on this barren, glacier‑scarred rock. While Shackleton and five companions embarked on an 800‑mile open‑boat journey to seek rescue, the remaining 22 men fashioned makeshift shelters by inverting lifeboats and subsisted on seal blubber, penguin meat, and seaweed. Their daily routine even included meticulous “cleanings,” where they combed each other’s garments for lice. Despite sub‑zero temperatures regularly plunging below –20 °F and the looming threat of starvation, every member survived. Today, Elephant Island remains virtually uninhabitable, its ferocious winds and treacherous terrain deterring all but the most intrepid explorers.

6 Palmyra Atoll

Roughly a thousand miles south of Hawaii, Palmyra Atoll has cultivated a reputation as one of the world’s most cursed islands. Though technically uninhabited aside from a few researchers, the remote Pacific atoll has amassed a disturbing ledger of mysterious deaths, disappearances, and uncanny phenomena. Its darkest chapter unfolded in 1974 when the yacht Sea Wind arrived bearing two couples; only one couple ever left the island alive. Malcolm and Eleanor Graham were brutally slain, their bodies never fully recovered. The surviving pair was later convicted of the murders, yet many details remain shrouded in ambiguity. Sailors recount bizarre electromagnetic anomalies that fry equipment, compasses that spin erratically, and an overwhelming sensation of being observed. World War II servicemen stationed there experienced unusually high rates of suicide and mental breakdowns. Despite its picture‑perfect tropical veneer, the atoll has inexplicably repelled numerous multi‑million‑dollar development schemes, with investors mysteriously abandoning projects without explanation.

5 Flannan Isles

Scotland’s remote Flannan Isles are home to one of the most baffling maritime mysteries of the twentieth century. In December 1900, the three lighthouse keepers stationed on Eilean Mòr vanished without a trace, leaving half‑eaten meals, an overturned chair, and a clock stopped dead. When a relief vessel finally arrived, the island was utterly deserted; Thomas Marshall, James Ducat, and Donald MacArthur were nowhere to be found. Their logbooks documented a severe storm, yet the final entry chillingly read, “storm ended, sea calm. God is over all.” The mystery deepens because reaching the sea from the lighthouse required a steep cliff descent; had the men been swept away, at least one body should have washed ashore, yet none ever did. The isles also boast a pre‑historic legacy, with ancient structures hinting at earlier habitation, and locals for generations have refused to spend a night there, citing inexplicable voices carried on the wind. The now‑automated lighthouse stands as a silent testament to the men who simply evaporated into thin air.

4 Clipperton Island

Donut‑shaped and isolated in the eastern Pacific, Clipperton Island witnessed a harrowing descent into madness and brutality during the early twentieth century. In 1914, roughly a dozen Mexican families were deposited on the atoll to mine guano when the Mexican Revolution severed their supply lines. As desperation set in, most men succumbed to scurvy and starvation, leaving women and children at the mercy of lighthouse keeper Victoriano Álvarez, who declared himself the island’s “king.” Over the ensuing months, Álvarez subjected the survivors to horrific abuse, murder, and sexual slavery. The women eventually rebelled, killing their tormentor in 1917. When an American gunboat stumbled upon the atoll, only three women and eight children remained from the original near‑hundred‑person settlement. A solitary coconut palm now stands on the island, rumored to have sprouted from the grave of one of Álvarez’s victims. Though today the island is a French overseas territory, it remains uninhabited aside from swarms of land crabs that will devour anything lingering too long.

3 Jure Sterk’s Ghost Island

In January 2009 Slovenian solo sailor Jure Sterk vanished while attempting a circumnavigation. His vessel, the Lunatic, was later found adrift near Australia, engine still running, one sail hoisted, but with no sign of its skipper. The enigma deepens because Sterk’s logbook entries abruptly stopped on January 1, offering no indication of trouble or distress. His final recorded coordinates pointed to an unnamed, uncharted island that appeared on his navigation charts yet is absent from any official maps. Search teams that attempted to locate this mysterious landmass at the noted coordinates found nothing but open ocean. Some theorists suggest Sterk may have encountered a “temporary island”—a volcanic nub that briefly breached the surface before sinking again. Others note a spooky coincidence: three other solo sailors have disappeared in the same region over the past century, spawning theories ranging from rogue wave phenomena to otherworldly forces.

2 Ilha da Queimada Grande (Snake Island)

Just off Brazil’s coast lies Ilha da Queimada Grande, ominously dubbed “Snake Island” because it hosts the world’s highest concentration of venomous snakes—estimated at one to five snakes per square meter. The island’s most notorious resident is the golden lancehead viper, whose potent venom can liquefy human flesh and claims a fatality rate of about 7 % even with prompt medical treatment. The Brazilian government has outright prohibited anyone from setting foot on the island. The last known human inhabitants were lighthouse keepers who met a grisly fate in the 1920s when snakes slithered through their windows, leaving them dead in pools of blood, riddled with bites. Earlier attempts to cultivate bananas on the island ended in tragedy, with workers reportedly dying aboard their boats before ever reaching the mainland. Local fishermen swear they sometimes hear human screams echoing from the island at night, despite its official uninhabited status, fueling rumors of clandestine activities or perhaps the anguished cries of the countless snakes themselves.

1 North Sentinel Island

North Sentinel Island, nestled in the Bay of Bengal, is arguably the world’s most fiercely defended “uninhabited” island. It is home to the Sentinelese, the last pre‑Neolithic tribe believed to have lived in complete isolation for up to 60,000 years. Their determination to remain untouched is legendary; they violently reject any outside contact, firing arrows at approaching boats, helicopters, and any intruders daring enough to draw near. In 2006 two fishermen drifted too close and were killed; in 2018 American missionary John Allen Chau met the same fate while attempting to convert the tribe. Despite decades of observation from a distance, virtually nothing is known about their language, customs, or even precise population size, with estimates ranging wildly from 15 to 500 individuals. The Indian government, acknowledging the tribe’s desire for seclusion, has established a three‑mile exclusion zone around the island and ceased all attempts at contact. The Sentinelese thus stand as perhaps the last human population on Earth with zero knowledge of the modern world beyond their shores.

The Klondike Gold Rush still dazzles imaginations, but beyond the famous legends lie ten forgotten stories that reveal the true grit, glamour, and tragedy of that wild era. In this roundup, we dive into the lesser‑known episodes that shaped the Yukon frontier, from impossible packing lists to notorious con men. These 10 forgotten stories show that the gold fever was as much about human drama as it was about glittering ore.

Why These 10 Forgotten Stories Still Captivate Us

10 You Couldn’t Pack Light

The gold fever erupted in 1896 when prospectors struck rich veins in the largely unmapped Yukon. Word spread like wildfire, and within a year a torrent of hopeful miners flooded the northern territories, each dreaming of striking it rich.

This sudden influx created a logistical nightmare. Travelers needed massive amounts of provisions to survive the brutal, rocky trek. Yet the sparsely populated route offered almost no stores, leaving the fledgling settlements on the brink of starvation.

To curb the disaster, the Canadian government mandated that every American crossing the border for mining purposes must bring a full year’s worth of supplies. The rule turned the journey into a two‑way odyssey, with many covering more than 1,610 km (1,000 mi) back and forth between Dyea, Alaska, and Bennett Lake. Though the two points sit only 53 km (33 mi) apart, the weight of a year’s provisions forced travelers to make multiple, heavy hauls.The Northern Pacific Railroad even published a brochure outlining a staggering checklist: 181 kg (400 lb) of flour, 4.5 kg (10 lb) each of coffee and tea, 34 kg (75 lb) of dried fruit, 56 kg (125 lb) of beans, plus essential gear such as tents, oil blankets, mosquito netting, axes, pitch, a stove, 60 m (200 ft) of rope, and enough winter clothing to brave months of sub‑zero temperatures.

9 Klondike Kate

Not every soul heading north aimed to swing a pickaxe. Kathleen Rockwell, a vague‑born Midwesterner, swapped chorus lines for the dusty stage of Dawson’s Savoy Theatre, where she adopted the moniker “Klondike Kate.” Her fame skyrocketed thanks to the flamboyant “Flame Dance” and daring pink tights that set the town ablaze.

Kate’s magnetic presence earned her generous tips, gratuities, and a share of the house profits. She claimed to have pocketed more than $30,000 in her debut year—a staggering sum for the 1890s, equivalent to a small fortune today.

Miners adored her so much that they would toss gold nuggets at her merely for a brief conversation. Yet her personal life was turbulent. After a disastrous romance with Alex Pantages—who promised marriage but wed another—Kate endured two marriages before passing away in 1957. She spent her final years penning her memoirs and fighting the stereotype that she was merely a gold‑digging opportunist.

8 The Second Klondike Kate

While Kathleen twirled onstage, another bold woman named Katherine Ryan was preparing for a very different adventure. A Vancouver nurse, Ryan heard the gold‑rush call and trekked north armed with a Winchester rifle and sturdy work boots.

Upon arrival, she linked up with a detachment of North West Mounted Police who helped ferry her year‑long supply cache in exchange for hot meals. With only $5 to her name, she launched a modest eatery, soon expanding into a second establishment dubbed Klondike Kate’s Café.

Ryan’s entrepreneurial spirit earned her a place as the first female Mountie. As a special constable, she oversaw female prisoners and ensured all gold shipments paid appropriate taxes. She also chronicled miners’ stories and, during World War I, spearheaded fundraising drives. Ryan died in 1932, receiving a Royal Canadian Mounted Police honor guard at her funeral—a testament to her lasting impact.

7 Dyea: A Klondike Ghost Town

Before the gold rush, Dyea was a modest trading post perched on the Taiya River, serving as a hub for Native traders moving goods between Russian merchants, U.S. trading companies, and Canada’s interior.

When prospectors swarmed the region, Dyea exploded into the primary launch point for the Klondike. Between October 1897 and May 1898, its population oscillated between 5,000 and 8,000. To accommodate the surge, the town erected 48 hotels, 47 restaurants, two breweries, four cemeteries, two hospitals, two telephone exchanges, 39 taverns, and a host of other services.

The boom was fleeting. By 1903, only three souls remained. Today, Dyea is a ghostly silhouette of its former self—its buildings either razed or claimed by the shifting river. Visitors can still glimpse remnants: a warehouse that once stored prospectors’ gear, an old bridge, a rowboat, and the false façade of the A.M. Gregg Real Estate Office. Even the windbreak trees planted by hopeful settlers stand as silent witnesses to dreams that never materialized.

6 The Wreck Of The Princess Sophia

By 1918 the Klondike fever had largely subsided, yet many miners still chased seasonal gold strikes, spending summers in the Yukon and escaping to warmer climes for winter. Shipping lines like the Canadian Pacific Railway ferried hopeful prospectors between the lower states and Alaska.

On October 23 1918, the Princess Sophia departed Skagway, Alaska, laden with passengers bound for winter shelter. Ignoring ominous weather warnings, the vessel drifted off course amid a snowstorm and struck a reef within hours of leaving harbor.

Several rescue vessels—ranging from a fishing boat to a mail ferry—attempted assistance, but the captain rebuffed every offer, fearing additional loss of life. Confident the tide would dislodge his ship, he chose to wait.

Two days later, the storm intensified, preventing any further rescue attempts. At 5:20 PM on October 25, the Princess Sophia issued a final distress signal before succumbing to the sea. All aboard perished instantly, suffocated by a cloud of oil that coated the water. A decade later, a court cleared the captain of wrongdoing; the victims’ families received modest pensions, but no further restitution was ever granted.

5 The Cremation Of Sam McGee

Poetry might seem out of place amid the Klondike’s harshness, yet Robert Service’s iconic ballad “The Cremation of Sam McGee” has endured, especially after Johnny Cash’s chilling rendition.

The verses recount a prospector’s promise to cremate his dying companion, Sam McGee, who wishes to be burned on a derelict ship. The narrator drags McGee’s frozen body to the wreck and ignites it, only for McGee to spring back to life as the flames thaw him—an unexpected twist.

There was indeed a real Sam McGee, but his story diverged sharply from the poem. He lived to 73, dying on his daughter’s farm and being interred beside his wife. A part‑time prospector, McGee earned his living building Yukon roads. In 1909, he moved south with his family to Montana, returning twice to the Yukon after discovering that charlatans were selling “authentic” Sam McGee ashes.

Robert Service later confessed he chose the name from a bank ledger, merely because it sounded suitably rugged for a frontiersman. No legal disputes arose over the usage, though McGee did change banks after the poem’s fame surged.

4 “Swiftwater” Bill Gates

The Klondike’s mythic landscape birthed legends and outlandish tales, and the saga of “Swiftwater” Bill Gates stands among the most bizarre. In 1896, Gates, then a dishwasher in Alaska, tried his luck as a prospector. After numerous failures, he finally struck gold alongside six partners.

Wealth quickly went to his head. Gates became a fixture in Dawson City, famed for his gambling exploits and obsessive love for a woman named Gussie Lamore. He once offered her a weight in gold for marriage, only to see her arm‑linked with another. In revenge, he bought every egg in town—eggs being a scarce commodity—earning the nickname “Knight of the Golden Omelet.”

After the rush, Gates migrated to California, still flush with riches. He married Gussie’s sister Grace, a union that soured quickly. Subsequent marriages followed a chaotic pattern: a 16‑year‑old Bera Beebe (whose mother later chronicled his life), a brief stint with Belle—another of Gussie’s sisters—then a 14‑year‑old niece he wed, leading to a kidnapping charge that ultimately fizzled.

Later, after divorcing Bera (who later took her own life), Gates married Kitty, then Sadie, an 18‑year‑old, before disappearing to Peru to evade child‑support debts. He was reportedly murdered there in 1937 while still hunting for more gold.

3 Wyatt Earp In The Klondike

After the famed gunfights of Tombstone, Arizona, legendary lawman Wyatt Earp and his wife vanished into the Yukon’s icy expanse. Official Wrangell, Alaska records show he served as a deputy marshal for ten days, though nothing noteworthy transpired.

The New York Sun, however, spun a dramatic tale: upon arriving in Dawson City, Earp allegedly swapped his street clothes for firearms and began “cleaning up” the town with his characteristic shoot‑first‑ask‑questions‑later style. A diminutive RCMP officer—described as about five feet tall—confronted him, demanding he surrender his gun.

Earp’s temper flared, but acquaintances warned him that killing a Mountie would provoke the entire British Empire. Reluctantly, he sheathed his weapons and returned to civilian attire. The Dawson Record later added a disclaimer, noting that no townsfolk recalled such a showdown ever occurring.

2 The Buffalo Soldiers

The post‑Civil‑War era still saw strict racial segregation in the armed forces. Overwhelmed by the gold‑rush influx, the RCMP struggled to maintain order, secure the Canada‑U.S. border, and enforce the one‑year‑supplies rule.

To bolster their ranks, the United States dispatched Company L of the 24th Infantry Regiment—better known as the Buffalo Soldiers. Predominantly African‑American troops from the Deep South earned their moniker from Native Americans who likened their bravery to the mighty buffalo.

Tasked with taming Skagway, Alaska, a boomtown described as “little better than Hell on Earth,” the Buffalo Soldiers arrived in 1899. They confronted rampant con‑men and street violence, driving out criminal elements while enduring the same racial prejudice they faced at home.

Beyond policing, the soldiers helped lay the foundation for a national park museum, preserving the frontier’s heritage for posterity.

1 Soapy Smith

Jefferson “Soapy” Randolph Smith was already notorious as a con artist before he drifted northward to the Klondike. Dubbed the “King of the Frontier Con Men,” he quickly entrenched himself in Skagway’s underworld after arriving in May 1898.

Smith opened a saloon that doubled as a headquarters for his gang of thieves, cutthroats, and swindlers. Hidden exits allowed the crooks to slip away with victims’ loot unnoticed.

One of his more audacious scams involved a faux telegraph office. For a $5 fee, customers believed they could send a telegram home, but the office had no wires. While they waited, a card game would erupt; a player would be “called away,” and the newcomer would be handed the seat, only to lose everything to the schemers.

Soapy’s reign persisted largely because he bought the cooperation of the U.S. Marshal and even fielded his own personal guard masquerading as a military unit. This provoked the deployment of the Buffalo Soldiers to cleanse Skagway of his influence.

Following the sinking of the USS Maine, Smith capitalized on a wave of patriotism, petitioning—and receiving—permission from the War Department to raise an official U.S. military division. This gave him legal authority to command troops for any purpose he desired, cementing his grip on the town.

Ultimately, his tyranny became unbearable. In July 1898, a vigilante mob confronted and murdered Soapy Smith, ending his notorious chapter in Klondike history.

Early in 2014, the UK defence secretary suggested that women be permitted to fight on the front lines. Such proposals have always sparked needless debate. Yet people often overlook the fact that, across the ages, women have excelled as soldiers and spies for their nations.

10Roza Shanina
World War II

Born to a logger family in Russia’s Arkhangelsk Oblast, Roza Shanina showed ambition early. In 1938 she fled home, trekking 200 km (125 mi) to the nearest town to enroll in the best school she could find.

By 1941 she worked in a nursery to fund university studies, but that same year her brother fell in battle, prompting Roza to take his place. Her training revealed exceptional marksmanship; even when offered an instructor post at the Women’s Sniper Academy, she demanded front‑line duty, earning the nickname “Unseen Terror of East Prussia” and becoming the first female sniper awarded the Order of Glory.

During the 1945 East Prussian Offensive her platoon dwindled to six men, and Roza fell protecting the artillery commander. By then her confirmed kills stood at 59. Her diary, still largely classified, was published in 1965 to great acclaim.

9Edith Cavell
World War I

Edith Cavell served as a Red Cross nurse in wartime Brussels. Shocked by the devastation around her, she resolved to help as many soldiers as possible escape the German‑occupied city. Working with colleagues, she smuggled over 200 Allied troops to the neutral Netherlands, sheltering them in her hospital and labeling them as injured patients. Her partner, Prince Reginald De Croy, supplied forged documents and money to guide the men to the Dutch border.

Cavell’s outspoken nature attracted German suspicion. Eventually a French spy named Gaston Quien, acting for the Germans, betrayed her. She was arrested, tried for aiding the enemy, and sentenced to death. The Germans executed her by firing squad.

8Ginnie and Lottie Moon
American Civil War

Ginnie and Lottie Moon were Confederate spies hailing from Ohio. Their striking looks made them popular, and they dreamed of acting careers. Lottie famously jilted Indiana native Ambrose Burnside—later a Union general—at the altar and later married Judge James Clark. Ginnie, after being expelled from school, lived with her older sister and the Clark family, who were deeply involved with the secretive Knights of the Golden Circle.

One night a messenger arrived with a letter destined for General Edmund Kirby Smith. Lottie volunteered, slipping into an old‑woman disguise using her theatrical skills, and successfully delivered the missive. The mission earned her counterfeit British papers and a health‑pass that let her travel to Virginia.

Ginnie relocated to Tennessee to tend to her ailing mother and cared for soldiers before undertaking a courier run for the Knights of the Golden Circle. She was captured, placed under house arrest alongside Lottie, and remained confined for the rest of the war.

7Emily Geiger
American War Of Independence

Emily Geiger, born in 1765 in South Carolina to Swiss‑descended parents, saw her father John fall ill as the Revolution erupted, leaving him unable to fight. Determined to contribute, she volunteered to carry a secret dispatch from General Nathaniel Greene to Thomas Sumter behind enemy lines. Greene not only handed her the letter but also memorized its contents so she could recount it verbally if needed.

The next day Emily set out on horseback, telling anyone she met that she was merely visiting her Uncle Jacob. When British scouts under Lord Rawdon intercepted her, her nervousness betrayed her, and she blushed uncontrollably.

Before being taken prisoner, Emily swallowed the sealed message. After a brief incarceration she was escorted to her uncle’s house, where she recited the contents aloud, successfully delivering Greene’s intelligence.

6Marie Marvingt
World War I

Marie Marvingt grew up in Aurillac, France, and by her thirties had become a world‑class athlete, winning accolades in skiing, skating, swimming, fencing and cycling. In 1910 she turned to mountaineering, becoming the first woman to summit several French and Swiss Alpine peaks, notably racing across the Aiguille des Grands Charmoz and the Grepon Pass in a single day.

Even before the Great War, she claimed victory in an international military shooting contest. Her passion for flight later led her to enlist disguised as a man, first serving as an infantryman and then piloting bomber missions—she was the first woman to do so.

During the conflict she also served as a Red Cross nurse and later pioneered air‑ambulance technology, adding metal skis for operations in Morocco and Algeria. Her innovations earned her medals from both France and Morocco.

5Constance Markievicz
Irish War Of Independence

Countess Constance Markievicz, a trailblazing Irish politician, was among the first women worldwide to hold a cabinet post. Yet it was her role in the Irish War of Independence that cemented her fame. As a Sinn Féin activist she played a pivotal part in the 1916 Easter Rising, even writing an anthem inspired by a Polish folk tune.

On the battlefield she served as second‑in‑command at St. Stephen’s Green, overseeing the construction of the barricades. Her unit proved highly effective, holding out for six days before surrendering. In 1922, during the Irish Civil War, she fought for the Republicans, defending Moran’s Hotel in Dublin.

Markievicz died shortly after taking her seat in the inaugural Dáil Éireann, with thousands lining the streets to honor her legacy.

4Maria Gertrudis Bocanegra
Mexican War Of Independence

Born in 1765 to a prosperous Spanish family in Michoacán, Maria Gertrudis Bocanegra married Lieutenant Pedro Advicula de la Vega. Despite limited educational opportunities for women, she was well‑read in Enlightenment literature. When Mexico’s fight for independence ignited, Maria threw herself behind the cause, supporting her husband’s military efforts.

She began by acting as a messenger for insurgents, a crucial role for guerrilla communications, and also supplied resources and lodging for fighters. Tragically, both her husband and son perished serving under Miguel Costilla. Later, after being dispatched to the fiercely contested town of Pátzcuaro, she was betrayed by informants and captured.

Maria spent most of 1817 imprisoned, enduring torture aimed at extracting information about fellow rebels, yet she never cooperated. In October she was convicted of treason and executed by firing squad, delivering an inspiring speech just before her death.

3Jeanie ‘Jenny’ Cameron
Jacobite Wars

Many women aided the Jacobite risings, but Jeanie ‘Jenny’ Cameron stands out. Hailing from Edinburgh, she fought alongside Bonnie Prince Charlie and became so celebrated that a biography was published in 1746—though it may blend stories of up to three different women sharing her name.

After a turbulent schooling and inheriting a sizable estate from her father, Jenny raised 250 men from her lands and rode them to join the Prince. She remained with him until their defeat at Stirling Castle, after which she was imprisoned with the captured troops in Edinburgh Castle. She secured bail after nine months.

What happened next remains debated: some claim she became Prince Charles Stuart’s mistress and intelligence source; others suggest she married an Irishman and settled in Ireland, while another theory posits she spent her remaining years as a destitute outcast.

2Agostina Domenech
Peninsular War

Agostina Domenech, also known as Agustina de Aragon, captured the imagination of the era so much that Lord Byron penned a poem about her. Born in 1786, she defended Spain during the Peninsular War against Napoleon’s forces, residing in Zaragoza, a city swamped with refugees and among the last to fall.

In June 1808, as French troops clashed with Spanish defenders outside the city gates, the Spaniards suffered heavy losses. While initially serving only to hand out apples to soldiers, Agostina seized a cannon, fired it herself, and slew a line of French soldiers. Her daring act inspired hundreds of civilians and fleeing soldiers to re‑engage, forcing the French to retreat, though Zaragoza eventually surrendered.

1Flora Sandes
World War I

Flora Sandes holds the unique distinction of being the only woman to serve officially as a soldier in World War I. Born in Yorkshire, England, she grew up riding horses and shooting, later lamenting the “misfortune to be born a woman.” Undeterred, she earned one of the first women’s driver’s licences in 1908. When the war erupted, she trained as a nurse but was rejected by the Red Cross due to her age.

Undaunted, Sandes traveled to Serbia with a group of women, where she performed surgery and managed a military hospital. Her Serbian comrades soon recognized her talents and enlisted her as a private in the Serbian army. She fought on the front lines, quickly rising to captain and commanding the Serbian “Iron Regiment.”

She displayed conspicuous bravery during a surprise attack in Macedonia, earning Serbia’s highest military honour. Though wounded in that battle, the injury lingered throughout her life. Remarkably, at age 65 she volunteered again to fight for Serbia in World II.

When you think of legendary commanders, names like Napoleon or Hannibal instantly pop up. Yet the annals of war hide a roster of equally dazzling tacticians who never got the spotlight. Meet the 10 brilliant generals whose feats reshaped empires, even if history has largely forgotten them.

10 Brilliant Generals: Forgotten Titans of Warfare

1. Basil The Bulgar-Slayer

The Byzantine Empire’s most impressive revival after Justinian was driven by Emperor Basil II in the late 10th century. Encircled by hostile powers — the Fatimid Caliphate to the east and the Second Bulgarian Empire under Tsar Samuel to the west — Basil faced a precarious strategic landscape.

First, he turned his attention eastward, confronting the Fatimids who had been beating down Byzantine commanders. In a bold two‑week march across what is now modern Turkey, Basil’s sudden arrival forced the Fatimid forces into a hasty retreat, restoring Byzantine confidence.

The western front earned him his grisly nickname. After years of incremental pressure on Bulgarian lands, Basil delivered the decisive blow at the Battle of Kleidion in 1014. He ordered the blinding of 99 out of every 100 captured Bulgarian soldiers, leaving a single sighted man to lead the crippled troops home. The shock of that sight allegedly caused Tsar Samuel’s death, and Basil soon eliminated the remaining members of the Bulgarian royal line, ending the Second Bulgarian Empire. In his spare time he even seized Sicily, leaving Byzantium a rejuvenated Mediterranean power.

2. David IV Of Georgia

Georgia, much like Estonia or Israel, has long been a crossroads for conquering empires. Yet a brief medieval golden age saw the kingdom rise to unprecedented strength under David IV, known as David the Builder.

When David seized power in 1089, Georgia was nominally a vassal of the Seljuk Sultanate. He immediately repudiated tribute, repelled four Seljuk invasions, and liberated most of modern Georgian territory. To bolster his modest forces, David invited the entire Cuman‑Kipchak tribe from southern Russia, granting land to 40,000 families and creating a powerful cavalry reserve.

In 1121 the Seljuks launched a holy war, fielding an army possibly ranging from 100,000 to 250,000 men. Outnumbered, David resorted to clever deception: he sent 200 cavalry pretending to defect to the Seljuk camp. As the Turks emerged to greet the “new allies,” the full Georgian army surged forward, routing the invaders. David lost three horses in the melee but emerged victorious, securing Georgian independence for a time.

3. Nguyen Hue

In the late 18th century Vietnam was split between the Trinh and Nguyen feudal houses, both notorious for oppressive rule. The resulting unrest birthed the Tây Sơn Rebellion in 1773, led by Nguyen Hue and his three brothers, who rallied the peasantry by redistributing landlord wealth.

Hue’s claim to legend stems from his stunning defeat of a 200,000‑strong Qing Chinese invasion in 1788. Initially feigning weakness, he let the Qing occupy northern Vietnam while secretly planning a surprise counter‑strike. Declaring himself King Quang Trung, he ordered his troops to celebrate Tet early, then launched a lightning march covering 600 km in just 40 days. Soldiers moved in three‑man teams, rotating a hammock‑carried comrade so none rested.

The assault employed elite commandos who shielded themselves with water‑soaked straw‑covered planks, nullifying the Qing’s incendiary rockets. After six relentless nights of fighting, the Qing army collapsed, granting Vietnam a century of independence.

4. The Duke Of Marlborough

John Churchill, later the Duke of Marlborough, faced a rocky start: in 1692 he was arrested and thrown into the Tower of London on unfounded rumors of a plot against King William III. Though cleared, the king never fully trusted him.

When the War of the Spanish Succession erupted, Louis XIV seemed poised to dominate Europe. Queen Anne appointed Marlborough to command the allied English, Dutch, Prussian, Austrian, and Savoyard forces. He transformed this patchwork coalition into a cohesive fighting machine, striking decisive blows against French hegemony.

At the 1704 Battle of Blenheim, Marlborough’s forces slaughtered nearly 40,000 French soldiers, a staggering loss for the era. He repeated the feat at Ramillies, feinting an attack on the French left before hammering the right flank, adding another 15,000 French dead. Subsequent victories at Oudenaarde and the costly yet strategic win at Malplaquet in 1709 cemented Britain’s emergence as a European power and halted French expansion.

5. Khalid Ibn Al-Walid

The early Islamic expansion after Prophet Muhammad’s revelations was spearheaded by Khalid ibn al‑Walid, a commander who never tasted defeat yet remains obscure in the West.

Initially fighting against Muhammad at the Battle of Uhud—the Prophet’s only major loss—Khalid soon converted and rose to become the pre‑eminent Arab general. He unified the Arabian Peninsula, then turned northward to confront the Byzantine and Sassanid empires.

His forces leveraged camel‑mounted troops, whose resilience in desert terrain and the scent that unnerved enemy horses gave the Arabs a unique edge. In 637 AD, at the Battle of al‑Qadisiyyah, Khalid’s longer, thicker arrows pierced Sassanid shields, demoralizing the enemy before a decisive cavalry charge shattered their army. He later routed the Byzantines at Yarmuk, using elite duelists (Mubarizun) to eliminate half the Byzantine commanders before a six‑day siege ended in Arab victory, securing Palestine, Syria, Egypt, and much of Anatolia.

6. Epaminondas

While the modern fascination with Sparta stems from movies like 300, the Theban general Epaminondas quietly dismantled Spartan dominance.

Rejecting the classic Greek reliance on sheer strength, Epaminondas emphasized agility and innovative tactics. In 371 BC at the Battle of Leuctra, he stacked his hoplites 50 ranks deep on the left flank, confronting the Spartans’ traditional 12‑rank formation. The massive Theban left struck the Spartan right—their strongest side—crushing their elite warriors.

After the decisive victory, Epaminondas launched a series of invasions into Spartan territory, even inciting the helot slave class to revolt. He fought four campaigns against Sparta, winning each. His final clash at Mantinea pitted him against both Athens and Sparta; the Spartans aimed simply to kill him. Though they succeeded, his Theban army still routed them, and Epaminondas died proclaiming, “I have lived long enough; for I died unconquered.” His tactics inspired Philip II of Macedon and his son Alexander the Great.

7. Baibars

If it weren’t for Baibars’ stunning triumph at the Battle of Ain Jalut, the Mongol tide might have swept through the Middle East unchecked.

Before confronting the Mongols, Baibars helped repel King Louis IX’s Seventh Crusade, even capturing the French monarch and extracting a ransom that allegedly took two whole days to count. In 1260, the Mongol commander Kitbuqa invaded Palestine, prompting Baibars to meet him in the Jezreel Valley.

Baibars turned the Mongols’ own favorite tactic—the feint—against them. He pretended to retreat, luring Kitbuqa’s forces into a pursuit. At the perfect moment, hidden Mamluk reinforcements swung around, crushing the Mongol army. Kitbuqa was beheaded, and the Mongols never again seriously threatened Syria or Palestine, effectively ending their golden age.

After seizing power in 1260 by assassinating Sultan Qutuz, Baibars waged a two‑decade campaign against the Crusader states, capturing every coastal city except Tyre and Acre, and cementing Mamluk Egypt as the dominant regional power by his death in 1277.

8. Subotai

Everyone knows Genghis Khan, but many overlook Subotai, the brilliant Mongol strategist who rose from a humble blacksmith to a chief commander under Genghis.

After helping subdue the Khwarezm Empire, Subotai embarked on what many consider the greatest military campaign ever. With just 20,000 men, he opted for the circuitous route around the Caspian Sea to return home to Mongolia. Along the way he annihilated the Georgian army of King George the Brilliant, razing the countryside while the surviving forces fled to their capital—only to be ignored as Subotai rode on.

Crossing the frozen Caucasus, he faced a coalition led by the Cumans. Rather than fight, Subotai bribed the Cumans to abandon their allies, leaving the coalition disorganized and easy to defeat. He later lured a massive Russian force of 80,000 onto terrain favorable to his horsemen, crushing them at the Kalka River.

In 1241, at the age of 67, Subotai turned his gaze westward. He burned Kiev, then confronted the Kingdom of Hungary at the plains of Mohi. Surrounded by 70,000 Hungarian knights, his 50,000 horsemen attacked from three sides, leaving a narrow escape route that led to a hidden fourth force that sealed the Hungarians’ fate. After the Poles fell at Legnica, Subotai’s campaign halted only because Ogedei Khan died, prompting the Mongols to withdraw. He died peacefully at 78, leaving a legacy of unrivaled strategic brilliance.

9. Pyrrhus Of Epirus

Pyrrhus of Epirus was the ultimate risk‑taker: he never said no to an offer, never finished what he started, yet still managed remarkable successes. Hannibal himself rated Pyrrhus as one of the greatest generals ever, second only to Alexander the Great.

His audacious career began at twelve when he inherited the throne of Epirus, a rugged Greek region. After a brief exile, he fought as a mercenary in Syria before reclaiming his kingdom. He later seized neighboring Macedon, only to be forced into retreat.

In 281 BC, the Italian city‑state of Tarentum begged Pyrrhus for help against Rome. He answered by abandoning Epirus and crossing the Adriatic with 25,000 infantry, 3,000 cavalry, 2,000 archers, and 20 war elephants. The Tarentines soon realized “help” meant Pyrrhus taking over their city, but they lacked elephants, so they endured.

He won three consecutive battles against Rome, but each victory thinned his forces, as he was far from home and received no reinforcements. Rome kept sending fresh armies. After his final triumph, Pyrrhus allegedly uttered the line that birthed the term “Pyrrhic victory”: “If I should ever conquer again in this fashion, it should be my ruin.” He later boasted, “What a battlefield I am leaving for Carthage and Rome.” He minted coins bearing his and Alexander’s faces and briefly seized Macedon again, then attacked Sparta. In a street fight in Argos, an elderly woman flung a floor tile from her balcony, killing Pyrrhus in an ignoble end.

10. Nader Shah

Eighteenth‑century Iran was a chaotic mess. The once‑great Safavid Empire had collapsed, leaving the hills overrun by petty warlords. From that turmoil emerged Nader Shah, a shepherd’s son who was captured by slavers before age ten, escaped, joined roaming brigands, and eventually rose to become a powerful chieftain.

The deposed Safavid shah, Tahmasb, begged Nader to help retake his throne from Afghan rebels. In 1729 Nader crushed the Afghans in two battles, restoring Tahmasb to Isfahan. For a while Nader was content to pull the strings behind the throne, defeating the Ottoman Empire and annexing modern Georgia and Armenia. When Tahmasb launched a reckless assault on the Ottomans and lost his gains, Nader stormed back, captured Baghdad, defeated the Ottomans again, and finally exiled the troublesome Tahmasb.

Now the undisputed ruler of Persia, Nader turned eastward, invading the Mughal Empire. Within a year he seized Delhi, returning with a treasure trove that included the famed Koh‑i‑Noor diamond. He amassed such wealth that he cancelled taxes for three years and built a palace just to store his loot. Yet his triumphs sowed his downfall. In 1741 he blinded his own son on suspicion of plotting, executed countless supporters, and imposed brutal policies that crippled the economy. In 1747 his own officers tried to murder him in his sleep; he fought them off, killing two, but succumbed to his wounds.

When we talk about 10 devastating natural disasters, the mind often jumps to recent headlines. Yet the annals of history are littered with catastrophes that have faded from public memory. From raging hurricanes that tore through colonial ports to silent earthquakes that reshaped continents, these events remind us how vulnerable humanity truly is.

10. The Great Hurricane of 1780

Hurricane San Calixto II roared across the Caribbean in October 1780, leaving a trail of death and destruction that eclipsed anything seen before. More than 27,000 souls perished, and countless warehouses on the beach of St. Eustatius were shattered. The storm battered Barbados, St. Lucia and Martinique, turning thriving colonies into scenes of ruin.

The tempest didn’t spare the warring nations either. As the Revolutionary War dragged on, Britain, France, Spain and Holland watched their navies crumble. France’s fleet of forty warships was smashed, and roughly 4,000 sailors drowned. Winds are estimated to have gusted at an incredible 320 km/h (200 mph), cementing the storm’s place as the Great Hurricane of 1780.

For perspective, the deadliest modern hurricane, Mitch of 1998, claimed about 11,000 lives—far fewer than San Calixto II. Mitch’s floods produced 13‑meter waves and two meters of rain in mountainous Central America, yet the 1780 hurricane remains the benchmark of sheer ferocity.

9. Laki and Grimsvötn Eruptions 1783–184

Grimsvötn, Iceland’s most active volcano, has been erupting for over a millennium, with its latest show in May 2011. Yet the real nightmare struck between 1783 and 1784, when the Laki fissure unleashed a cataclysmic series of eruptions dubbed “Skaftareldar” or the “Skaftar fires.” Together with Grimsvötn’s own outbursts, they caused roughly 30,000 deaths.

Ten fissures opened in succession, each preceded by intense earthquake swarms, and spewed fire fountains that rose over 1,200 m (4,000 ft) into the sky. The basaltic lava covered about 900 km² (350 mi²)—the largest lava flow ever recorded. A choking haze spread across Iceland, Europe, western Siberia and even northern Africa, while 120 million tons of sulfur dioxide polluted the atmosphere.

The haze devastated agriculture and livestock, wiping out more than half of Iceland’s animals and triggering a famine that killed roughly 20 % of the island’s population.

8. The Tabriz Earthquake 1780

On January 8 1780, the North Tabriz fault in Iran ruptured violently, delivering a magnitude‑7.7 quake that flattened the bustling city of Tabriz. Earlier foreshocks had already weakened structures, and the main shock caused almost every building, palace and house to collapse.

The tremor was felt over 690 km (430 mi) away, though fatalities were confined to the epicenter zone. Hundreds died within the palace, including the ruler’s child, and more than 400 surrounding villages were razed. Even structures 65 km (40 mi) from Tabriz suffered serious damage.

Death toll estimates vary widely—from over 200,000 to a more plausible 50,000. Fortunately, geological studies suggest such a massive event is unlikely to repeat soon, with recurrence intervals ranging from 350 to 1,450 years.

7. The Zuiderzee Floods 1287 & 1421

The first of the Dutch Zuiderzee deluges struck in December 1287, known as St. Lucia’s Flood. A massive North Sea storm broke through coastal defenses, flooding the inlet and killing an estimated 50,000 people. The surge reached far inland, turning Amsterdam into a major seaport.

In 1421, a second catastrophe—the St. Elizabeth’s Flood—ravaged Zeeland and Holland, drowning two islands and claiming 10,000 lives. Villagers had built dikes, yet the relentless storms overwhelmed them, and parts of the land swallowed by the 1421 flood remain underwater today.

These two disasters were among the deadliest floods of the medieval era, underscoring the perpetual battle the Netherlands has waged against the sea.

6. The Great Plague of Seville 1647–1652

Seville, once Spain’s most populous city and a bustling trade hub, boomed in the early 16th century with over 120,000 residents. By the mid‑17th century, the city’s fortunes waned, and an April 1649 flood set the stage for a deadly outbreak of bubonic plague.

The plague swept through the city, annihilating nearly half its inhabitants within just four months. The epidemic never fully receded, leaving Seville forever altered, though the city still boasts remarkable baroque architecture and cultural heritage.

Even after the disaster, Seville remains a vibrant destination, now free of the plague that once decimated it.

5. Chihli Earthquake 1290

The region now known as Hebei province in China’s North China Plain, historically called Chihli, was densely populated for millennia. On September 27 1290, a massive quake struck, killing an estimated 100,000 people.

Scientists place the quake’s magnitude between 6.0 and 7.0 on the Richter scale. Though records of the physical damage are scarce, the event remains the deadliest earthquake ever recorded in that area.

Fast‑forward to the 21st century, the same region houses over 65 million people—a stark reminder of how a repeat event could be catastrophically more devastating.

4. Kyoto Famine 1181–1182

In 1177, a massive fire razed one‑third of Kyoto, Japan, and a tornado struck three years later. The following year, amid the Genpei Wars, a severe famine erupted, claiming thousands of lives as the city became isolated and supplies ran dry.

Drought crippled crops, disease spread unchecked, and malnutrition ran rampant. Contemporary accounts, such as Kamo no Chimei’s “An Account of My Hut,” describe emaciated corpses littering the Kamo River.

Approximately 100,000 people perished. After the famine, the Great Earthquake of 1185 shook Kyoto with an estimated magnitude of 7.4, yet some structures, like Byōdō‑in’s Phoenix Hall, survived and are now UNESCO World Heritage sites.

3. St. Felix’s Flood 1530

The Netherlands, much of which lies below sea level, has endured countless floods over the centuries. On November 5 1530, St. Felix’s Flood devastated the region known as Oost‑Watering, submerging the islands of Noord‑Beveland and Sint Philipsland entirely.

Roughly 100,000 people lost their lives, making this disaster the seventh deadliest flood in recorded history. Today, Noord‑Beveland has transformed into a salt marsh, a testament to nature’s resilience.

In response to such threats, the Dutch have engineered innovative solutions like the 3.5‑km‑wide Sand Engine, constantly adding sand to combat rising sea levels, and they increasingly turn to natural flood‑management strategies.

2. Smallpox 1775–1782

Smallpox incubates for about two weeks before symptoms appear, allowing the disease to spread unchecked in crowded ships, military camps and other tight quarters. During the American Revolutionary War, the disease surged, killing five times more people than the war itself.

George Washington, who had survived smallpox as a teenager in Barbados, mandated inoculation for all new soldiers starting in 1776. This early vaccination effort helped curb the epidemic, though the disease still claimed over 120,000 lives before it finally waned.

1. Hokkaido Earthquake 1730

Japan sits atop a triple junction where three tectonic plates converge, making it one of the most seismically active regions on Earth. On December 30 1730, the Hokkaido earthquake struck with a magnitude of 8.3, killing an estimated 137,000 people.

Hokkaido, the country’s northernmost island, now boasts a population of over five million. The quake remained Japan’s deadliest until the 1923 Kanto earthquake, which claimed about 300,000 lives and rendered 2.5 million homes uninhabitable.

Given Japan’s ongoing tectonic volatility, another disaster of this magnitude could occur at any moment, underscoring the importance of preparedness and resilient infrastructure.

Long before JFK and Bill Clinton made headlines, America’s presidents were already dabbling in affairs. The tradition of a side romance is practically a national pastime, right up there with apple pie and fireworks. Welcome to our roundup of the 10 scandalous presidential affairs you’ve probably never heard of.

10 scandalous presidential affairs uncovered

1. FDR And Eleanor Roosevelt

Franklin Roosevelt’s infidelity is fairly well‑known, but his marriage to Eleanor was a tangled web of secrets. The spark began when Lucy Mercer, hired as Eleanor’s social secretary, began an affair with FDR that quickly became the talk of Washington’s elite. Even Alice Longworth, Teddy Roosevelt’s influential daughter, arranged private rendezvous for the couple. When Eleanor uncovered love letters between her husband and Lucy, she demanded a divorce.

FDR was surprisingly open to the idea, even wishing to marry Lucy, who seemed a better match for him than Eleanor. However, his domineering mother threatened to cut off financial support, and his political mentors warned that a divorce would be a career‑killing scandal. Choosing money and ambition over love, FDR begged Eleanor for forgiveness. She agreed to stay, on the condition that he never see Lucy again— a promise he broke— and insisted they no longer share a bed.

The betrayal hit Eleanor hard. Once shy and insecure, she eventually forged a powerful identity outside her husband’s shadow. She found role models in two lesbian couples—Elizabeth Read & Esther Lape and Nancy Cook & Marion Dickerman—who showed her she could thrive independently. Over time, Eleanor transformed into a political force, with Joseph Alsop dubbing her partnership with FDR a “highly successful working partnership” rather than a conventional marriage.

Rumors later swirled about Eleanor’s own romantic entanglements, notably with reporter Lorena Hickock, a woman “sexually oriented to women.” While it’s unclear if Eleanor reciprocated Hickock’s feelings, she certainly adored her, penning affectionate notes like, “I can’t kiss you, so I kiss your picture good night and good morning!” When FDR won the presidency, Eleanor invited Hickock to live in the White House, reassuring her that gossip wouldn’t matter. Meanwhile, FDR maintained his own liaison with his live‑in assistant, Missy LeHand.

Kindree Cushing has never slept with a President.

2. James Buchanan

Before his presidency, James Buchanan was engaged to a wealthy heiress named Anne, who died suddenly just days after their broken engagement. Her family barred Buchanan from attending the funeral, blaming him for her death, and gossip suggested she had been devastated by his infidelity.

Anne’s death wasn’t the only reason Buchanan remained a bachelor. For 23 years he lived with Senator William King, not merely as a roommate but sharing a bedroom. Historians often cite this cohabitation as evidence that Buchanan was America’s first gay president.

Contemporary accounts referred to the pair in colorful terms: a congressman called them “Buchanan and his wife,” while others used nicknames like “Aunt Fancy” and “Siamese twins.” Historian James Loewen noted Buchanan’s openness about the relationship, pointing to surviving letters that reveal deep devotion. In one letter, Buchanan wrote, “I am now solitary and alone… I have gone a wooing to several gentlemen, but have not succeeded with any one of them.”

King’s correspondence echoed this sentiment: “I am selfish enough to hope you will not procure an associate who will cause you to feel no regret at our separation.” Sadly, many of their letters were destroyed by relatives, leaving the true nature of their bond shrouded in mystery.

3. George Washington

In March 1758, a young George Washington visited the newly widowed Martha Custis, the wealthiest woman in Virginia. By January 1759, they were married. Yet, a long‑forgotten letter to his former flame Sally Fairfax resurfaced in 1877, making the front page of the New York Herald.

The letter, penned while George and Martha were formally engaged, began coyly: “I profess myself a votary of love. I acknowledge that a lady is in the case and further I confess that this lady is known to you.” Washington later wrote, “Misconstrue not my meaning; doubt it not nor expose it. The world has no business to know the object of my love declared in this manner to you when I want to conceal it.”

At the time, Sally Fairfax was already married to a close friend of Washington. Her reply was deliberately vague, and the two never spoke of the affair again. In 1775, the British attempted to tarnish Washington with a forged letter alleging an affair with “Kate the washerwoman’s daughter,” but no solid evidence ever proved Washington was unfaithful to Martha after their marriage.

4. Grover Cleveland

Grover Cleveland is one of only three presidents to wed while in office, marrying Frances Folsom in 1886. The match was scandalous: Frances was 27 years younger, and Cleveland had actually bought her baby carriage. Even more controversial, she had been his ward since her father died when she was nine.

But the real shocker lay in Cleveland’s earlier life. In 1873, at age 37, he courted sales clerk Maria Halpin. On December 15, he took her out to dinner and then insisted on escorting her home. Halpin later claimed Cleveland raped her “by use of force and violence and without my consent,” threatening to ruin her if she spoke out. Six weeks later, she discovered she was pregnant.

When the child was born, Cleveland had Maria arrested and committed to an insane asylum, placing the newborn in an orphanage. The asylum’s director recognized the abuse of power and released Maria, noting she had been committed “without warrant or form of law.” The child was never returned to her mother. When the scandal surfaced, Cleveland spread rumors that Halpin was a drunk who had affairs with married men, and suggested the child was actually Oscar Folsom’s. Yet Halpin, a church‑going widow with two children, maintained that Cleveland was the father, a claim supported by Pastor Henry Crabbe, who called Cleveland “a corrupt, licentious man.”

5. Lyndon Johnson

Lady Bird Johnson once quipped, “My husband loved people. He loved all people. Now half the people in the world are women. You don’t think I could keep him away from half the world, do you?” Lyndon and Lady Bird married in November 1934, though they were stark opposites. Lyndon’s explosive ambition often clashed with Lady Bird’s shy, intellectual demeanor.

By 1937, Lyndon began an affair with Alice Glass, the wife of a major political supporter. The relationship persisted into the late 1940s, despite the risk to his career. Lady Bird, noticing Alice’s magnetic presence, blamed herself and responded by becoming more socially active, losing weight, and adopting a flashier wardrobe—while pretending ignorance of the affair.

LBJ wasn’t content with one mistress. He bragged, “I’ve had more women by accident than Kennedy ever had on purpose.” After Lady Bird walked in on him with a secretary in the Oval Office, the Secret Service installed a buzzer to alert him whenever she was nearby.

One of the few women who went public was Madeleine Brown, who claimed a 21‑year affair with LBJ. She alleged that Johnson provided her with a two‑bedroom home, a maid, credit cards, and cars, describing their encounters as “kinky” and typically lasting about thirty minutes.

6. George H.W. Bush

The Washington Post once pointedly noted that political aide Jennifer Fitzgerald had “served President‑elect George Bush in a variety of positions.” Rumors of an affair were “well‑known” among journalists, but nothing was published until 1988, when LA Weekly ran a story claiming Fitzgerald spoke openly about the relationship.

In 1992, the New York Post revived the allegations, and journalist Susan Trento’s book The Power House cited U.S. ambassador Louis Fields arranging a joint guest house for Bush and Fitzgerald during a 1988 Geneva visit. Fields allegedly confessed that “it became very clear to me that the Vice President and Mrs. Fitzgerald were romantically involved.” Trento’s husband delayed reporting the comment at Fields’s request, fearing career damage, but went public after the ambassador’s death.

The story resurfaced when unauthorized biographer Kitty Kelley repeated the claims in her 2004 book The Family. According to Kelley, longtime Republican stalwart James Baker refused to run Bush’s 1980 campaign unless Fitzgerald was removed from the picture.

Unlike most entries here, the Bush allegations remain unproven, and the Bush family has vigorously denied them. When reporter Mary Tillotson asked Bush about the affair at a live news conference, his staff reportedly erupted, vowing she would “never work around the White House again.”

7. James Garfield

While in school, James Garfield was obsessed with sex, homosexuality, and masturbation, even taking cold showers to curb his urges. Though attracted to independent women, he felt compelled to marry the “asexual wallflower” Lucretia “Crete” Rudolph, whom he met while working as a janitor at the Eclectic Institute in Hiram, Ohio. Their engagement in 1854 coincided with Garfield’s affair with the witty Rancie Selleck, a friend who knew his “sensuous” side. Crete was aware of the liaison, calling it the “keenest dagger to my heart,” and the affair lasted until 1858.

In 1862, Garfield pursued an 18‑year‑old New York Tribune reporter, Lucia Gilbert Calhoun. He also maintained a long‑term relationship with Eclectic Institute student Almeda Booth. When Crete confronted him about Booth, Garfield confessed, describing the episode as a “lawless passion.”

Garfield’s womanizing was so prolific that Crete kept herself out of the press, fearing her presence would invite accusations of infidelity. Yet the 1880 election was rocked by rumors that Garfield had visited a New Orleans prostitute.

8. Woodrow Wilson

Woodrow Wilson married artist Ellen Axon in 1885. Their marriage held steady until around 1906, when a series of personal tragedies struck: Ellen’s nephew, his wife, and their two‑year‑old son drowned, while her brother fell into severe depression. Earlier, Ellen’s father had been institutionalized and later committed suicide, adding to the family’s woes. Overwhelmed, Wilson escaped to Bermuda in 1907‑08, where he met Mary Peck.

The friendship with Mary blossomed into a “dalliance,” devastating Ellen and leaving Wilson “guilt‑stricken.” Ellen later said the Peck affair was the only unhappiness her husband ever gave her, while Wilson admitted to a “passage of folly and gross impertinence,” abandoning his “standards of honorable behavior.”

After Ellen’s death in August 1914, Wilson, unable to remain single, began seeing widow Edith Galt in early 1915. Advisors warned that the public would react poorly, and gossip intensified when the Washington Post mistakenly reported that “the President has been entering Edith Bolling Galt regularly.” A popular joke of the era asked, “What did Mrs. Galt do when the President of the United States proposed to her?” Answer: “She fell out of bed.” Despite lingering rumors about Mary Peck, Wilson married Edith later that year and was re‑elected despite the scandal.

9. Warren G. Harding

Usually regarded as a notably weak president, Warren G. Harding prized being liked over strong leadership, a trait that may explain his infamous weakness for women. His most famous liaison was with Carrie Phillips, which began in 1905 while both were married (Harding was actually good friends with Carrie’s husband). Their steamy love letters were opened to the press in 2014.

During the 1920 presidential campaign, the Republican National Committee essentially bribed Carrie and her husband to stay out of sight, sending them on a free Asian tour with $20,000 in cash.

That’s not a bad deal, but several of Harding’s other lovers fared worse. Before his affair with Carrie ended, Harding took up with Nan Britton, a campaign volunteer 30 years his junior. Nan gave birth to a baby girl in 1919; Harding had the Secret Service hand‑deliver child‑support payments. After his death, Nan sued the estate for a trust fund, losing the case, but she later penned a tell‑all, The President’s Daughter, dedicated “to all unwed mothers.” The book scandalized the nation with vivid accounts of wild escapades, including sex in the Oval Office closet.

Harding’s roster of flings also included a Washington Post employee named Miss Allicott and chorus girls Maize Haywood and Blossom Jones. Two other women claimed to have conceived children by Harding (one had a son, another terminated a pregnancy). There was also a “violent” affair during his Senate years with staffer Grace Cross. Harding didn’t bother hiding his affairs, telling a private group of reporters, “It’s a good thing I am not a woman. I would always be pregnant. I can’t say no.”

10. Dwight D. Eisenhower

Dwight D. Eisenhower is celebrated as one of America’s most successful military leaders, serving as Supreme Commander of the Allied invasion of Europe during World War II. The prolonged separations from his wife, Mamie, during the war may have sparked whispers of an affair back in Washington.

Photos often show Ike close to his secretary‑driver Kay Summersby, sometimes standing a little too near. After years of emotional intimacy, the pair allegedly consummated their relationship in spring 1944. According to Summersby, Ike was actually impotent, confessing that marriage had “killed something” in him, forcing her to take the lead and teach him about sex during their trysts.

When the war ended, Ike formally requested General Marshall to relieve him of duty so he could divorce Mamie and marry Kay. An outraged Marshall refused, threatening to ruin Ike’s career should the divorce proceed. Consequently, the affair ended, only surfacing publicly in 1975 when Kay, after Ike’s death, published a book detailing their relationship.