Cautionary Tales with Tim Harford - Houdini's Detective and her 1500 Dead Husbands (Part 2)

Episode Date: March 21, 2025

Harry Houdini finds an ally in his fight against spiritualism, a brilliant detective called Rose Mackenberg, who'll do whatever it takes to expose a fake. Together, the two head to Washington to try and get lawmakers to criminalise mediums. The hearing that follows will be violent, sensational and leave Houdini fearing for his life. This is the second of a three-part series. For a full list of sources, see the show notes at timharford.com. Get ad-free episodes, plus an exclusive monthly bonus episode, to Cautionary Tales by subscribing to Pushkin+ on Apple Podcasts or Pushkin.fm. Pushkin+ subscribers can access ad-free episodes, full audiobooks exclusive binges, and bonus content for all Pushkin shows. Subscribe on Apple: apple.co/pushkinSubscribe on Pushkin: pushkin.fm/plusSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Pushkin This is the second episode of a three-part series. You can enjoy it on a standalone basis, but if you've not heard episode one, you might prefer to listen to it first. The tearful young widow in a cheap-looking dress was desperate to get in touch with her recently deceased husband, she explained to Mr Herman Parker, one of the leading spiritualist mediums in Chicago. Mr Parker could help with that, for a fee of course. He settled down, closed his eyes, and went into a trance.

I am in touch with a man. Yes, it's your husband. He says he is happy but misses you. I think he is leaving us now. Parker opened his eyes. He's gone? Oh, but I did so want to ask him what to do with the money. The money?

Yes, the widow explained. The settlement for his death. $3,000. Perhaps I can get your husband back, said Mr. Parker. He closed his eyes again. I have your husband again. His spirit is standing by your side. He says to invest the money. He is trying to give me the name of the company he wants you to invest in. Parker screwed up his face in concentration, then reached for a pen and scribbled a name. The Wilcox Transportation Company. Your husband says it is a very sound company.

I don't know how to thank you, said the young woman, wiping a tear from her eye. She paid Mr Parker the fee for his consultation, went back to her hotel and placed a long-distance telephone call to her boss, Harry Houdini. For this young woman was no naive Chicago widow with a chunky death settlement to invest. She was New York bachelor girl Rose Mackenburg, Houdini's chief investigator of dodgy mediums. Harry Houdini's sellout shows now consisted of three acts. Some magic, some of the escapes that made his name, and a new final section called Do the Dead Come Back, where Harry would name and shame fraudulent local mediums. On the stage of the Princess Theatre in Chicago, Harry invited Rose to continue the story of

Herman Parker. She looked into the Wilcox Transportation Company. It was of course both worthless and run by an associate of Mr Parker. But it couldn't just be Rose's word against Herman Parker's. They needed to gather hard evidence. Rose told the theatre, I took out my checkbook and I said, I'm afraid I can't write very well Mr Parker, could you help me fill out the cheque? The audience loved it. Billboard called this section of Houdini's show as laughter-provoking as it was educational. Chicago's police also enjoyed this particular story.

They took Mr Parker and Mr Wilcox to court and got them both convicted. But did the laws in America do enough to protect the vulnerable, bereaved clients of cynical mediums? Harry Houdini was not convinced that they did. And so, in early 1926, Harry and Rose went to Washington. I'm Tim Harford, and you're listening to Cautionary Tales. MUSIC The committee room in Washington DC was packed. Three hundred people crammed the seats, the aisles and anywhere else they could find. Some were simply there to enjoy what promised to be an entertaining spectacle.

The great showman, Houdini, was going to give evidence in support of the Copeland Bloom Bill. Others there were spiritualists and mediums whose livelihood and liberty were under threat if the bill made it onto the statute books. The congressman called the session to order. "'What is your full name? He asked. My name is Harry Houdini.

And what is your business? I am an author. I am a psychic investigator for the scientific magazines of the world. And then I am a mysterious entertainer. Then I am a mysterious entertainer. It's a revealing answer about how Harry Houdini saw himself in his 52nd year. The famous escape artist put mysterious entertainer only third on his list of occupations. Top of that list was Arthur. Houdini was proud of his book, A Magician Among the Spirits, partly a history of the

spiritualist movement and partly an account of his own dealings with spiritualists, such as the séance at which Lady Doyle, wife of the author Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, had written a lengthy letter that purported to come from Harry's mother. Nearly four years had passed since that séance and Houdini had become more and more strident in his attacks on those who claimed to be able to communicate with the dead. In his experience, he told the assembled congressman, There are only two kinds of mediums. Those who are mental degenerates, and those who are deliberate cheats and frauds. I have never seen one genuine medium.

But Houdini didn't just want to warn people off spending their hard-earned money on messages purportedly from the spirit world. No, he thought it should be illegal to sell those messages at all. That's what the Copeland Bloom bill set out to do. Cities around America had different laws on mediumship. The laws in Washington DC were among the most permissive. They said that mediums, clairvoyants, soothsayers, fortune tellers or palmists conducting business for profit shall pay a licence tax of $25 per annum. And to get a licence, they simply had to apply to the superintendent of licences

with letters from ten credible residents that he or she is of good character. Not exactly difficult, as Houdini pointed out. The problem was that having a licence seemed to imply that the government was vouching for your skills. Fortune tellers could proudly display their official certificate in much the same way as properly qualified lawyers or doctors. The Copeland Bloom Bill would go to the other extreme. It would ban altogether, pretending to tell fortunes, or unite the separated, among other things. Some of the congressional representatives at the hearing shared Houdini's scepticism

about clairvoyance, soothsayers and so on. Others were more credulous. But palmistry is a science, said one representative. Isn't it? No it is not! Houdini was appalled. How can you tell anything from the lines of the hand? You can tell whether a man is a bricklayer or a bank clerk. The congressman continued. I understand astrology can bring out facts that have been proven to be true.

Houdini tried to explain to him why you should never be too impressed at discovering that an astrologist has predicted something accurately. Where they make so many guesses, sometimes they make a good guess. If you guess often enough, you're bound to guess something, right? The congressman moved on to spiritualism. If it really is such an outrageous, fake and fraud, why would that not have been discovered by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, who, after all, is an outstanding authority? Houdini snapped back. Conan Doyle is not an outstanding authority." Houdini snapped back.

Conan Doyle is not an outstanding authority. He is accepted as one of the best, the committee member said. No, he is not accepted as one of the best. He is one of the greatest dupes. The years-long friendship between Houdini and Conan Doyle had become increasingly strained since that seance with Doyle's wife. For a while, Houdini still optimistically addressed his letters. My dear Sir Arthur. Conan Doyle became more stiff.

Our relations are suddenly curious, he wrote to Houdini. For so long as you attack what I know from experience to be true, I have no alternative but to attack you in return. How long a private friendship can survive such an ordeal, I do not know. You can see the problem. Doyle's wife is a medium. And there's Houdini, breezily telling a congressional committee that every medium he's encountered is either a deliberate fraud or a mental degenerate.

But there's another reason why Sir Arthur and Houdini had fallen out, and it's to do with the second occupation Houdini listed – Psychic Investigator for the scientific magazines of the world. The Scientific American magazine put up a cash prize for anyone who could conclusively demonstrate psychic phenomena to their panel of eminent academic investigators. The panel was on the cusp of awarding the prize to a friend of Conan Doyle, a medium called Marjorie, the wife of a Boston surgeon, at whose seances the spirits rang bells and shook tambourines. The academics were stumped.

If this was all a trick, they couldn't figure out how Marjorie was doing it. So it must be spirits. But when the magazine sent Houdini, he watched closely and understood. It was sleight of hand. Highly accomplished and hard to detect, but slight of hand nonetheless. Academics aren't smart enough for this kind of investigation, Houdini explained. It takes a flim-flammer to catch a flim-flammer. Because of Houdini, Marjorie did not get the cash prize. But for Sir Arthur, it wasn't about the money.

The approval of scientific American would have been a major boost for the spiritualist religion. Sir Arthur was furious with Houdini. He was certain that Marjorie had genuine supernatural powers, and Houdini's expose was unfair. For that matter, he was sure Houdini had supernatural powers and was only pretending that he didn't. When journalists asked Houdini about Conan Doyle, he didn't hold back. Conan Doyle is getting a bit senile.

He's 15 years Houdini's senior. The old man is easily bamboozled. It's such a pity, Houdini says. Doyle thinks he is a messiah who has come to save mankind. Instead of that, he is misleading the public and his teachings are a menace to sanity and health. Houdini was on a mission. He now saw exposing frauds like Marjorie as his sacred duty. And he couldn't do it alone. Cautionary Tales will be back after the break. Rose Mackenburg was born in Brooklyn to Russian immigrant parents. She started out as a stenographer at a law firm, then became a private detective. She'd just turned 30 when she took on a new client who wanted her to investigate a medium.

The medium had given him bad investment advice. Rose didn't know much about mediums, but she did know someone who knew Harry Houdini. She asked the mutual friend to set up a meeting, so she could ask for Houdini's advice on how to proceed. Coincidentally, Rose had just spent an evening at a séance herself, invited by a friend who said it would be good clean fun. It was certainly fun. It was certainly fun. Rose told Houdini the story. The medium, an attractive young woman, was tied to a chair. Her assistant switched out the lights, and in the darkness she called on the spirits to play various musical instruments, culminating with a big bass drum in the middle of the

room. Her assistant turned on the light to reveal that the medium was still tied to the chair, and the big bass drum was beating all on its own. Rose was curious about how it was done, she told Houdini, so she went back a few nights later in disguise. When the lights were turned out, she quietly left her seat and crawled towards the drum, stretching out her fingers in the darkness, until they encountered… a child? Whoever it was froze. So Rose felt them out further.

No, not a child. A dwarf. A very small dwarf. Rose crawled back to her seat, her curiosity satisfied. When the lights came on and the drum was sounding, this time she knew what it was. The dwarf. Beating the drum from inside. Houdini listened to the story, gave Rose the advice she wanted, then offered her a job.

Rose was tough, smart and, crucially for Houdini, open-minded. She had no particular views either way, on whether it might be possible to make contact with the dead. If she did happen to find a medium who was genuine, she'd let Houdini know. As Rose later wrote, Harry Houdini, from the bottom of his fine soul, wanted passionately to believe in spiritualism. He would have sacrificed a fortune if he had ever been able to convince himself that there was actually such a thing as communication with the dead.

His relentless attempts to unmask fraudulent mediums were devoid of malice. He sought but one thing, truth. Houdini sent Rose around the country, trying to find that elusive, genuine medium, while gathering material for his shows. When she got to a new city, she'd first hang out in department stores to observe the local fashions. She'd decide on a persona. The rustic schoolteacher, perhaps. The credulous servant girl. Or the small-town matron.

She'd purchase an appropriate outfit. Back at her hotel, she wrote. I'd remove the powder from my face, plaster my hair down in the most unbecoming fashion, probably put on glasses, and Sally forth. Sometimes Houdini himself would turn up for the fun of unmasking the fraud. In Cleveland, Ohio, Houdini went to a seance at a famous trumpet medium's house, in a blonde wig and thick glasses, having given his name as Mr F. Rorde.

He had with him a photographer, a prosecutor, a flashlight, and lamp black, a pigment used in boot polish. Trumpet mediums claimed that the spirits move the trumpet around in the darkness, and whisper their messages through it. When the lights went out, Houdini surreptitiously smeared lamp black on the trumpet, then, mid-science, turned on his flashlight. The photographer caught the medium black-handed. The prosecutor told him,

You're obtaining money under false pretenses. The medium was outraged. In forty years, he protested, I have never been exposed. Well, said Houdini, whipping off his blonde wig. You are now. More often, Rose would gather evidence herself, sometimes at grave personal risk. She consulted a man about 60 years old who ran his own spiritualist church. She casually mentioned that she was interested in establishing a church herself. Her husband had left her plenty of money.

It was a way to prove how easy it could be to set yourself up as an authority in the spiritualist religion. The man leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and began to breathe heavily. Your husband is right near you. He loves you so. Your husband tells me to tell you to go into this work. You'll be quite successful." Can you ask my husband where I would find someone to assist me? The man began to speak in a changed voice. Ask the medium. The medium is very good. He can give you a charter for your church. He can cure you physically. You have to be purified before you can do this work. The man stopped speaking, breathed heavily for a while longer, then rubbed his eyes and

spoke in his normal voice again. What did I say? Rose repeated the man's words back to him. Yes, he agreed thoughtfully, he could do that. He went into another room and returned with a framed charter for a branch of his church, the first church of the Divine Light. It would cost Rose five dollars to be ordained. But as the spirits rightly said, she would first need to be purified.

And yes, he could purify her now. Have you any corsets on? The steel will interfere in the purification process. Rose did not have any corsets on, she confirmed. I must get close to the body. He knelt in front of Rose's chair, made the sign of the cross over her face, then began to rub her ankles and her thighs. Lord, please help me to show this new worker the light.

He put his hand on her breast. Dear God, bring this worker closer to me. Rose stood up, the man still on his knees. I feel purified already, thank you. $5, did you say? Rose paid her money and made her escape from the medium's house, clutching her framed charter. She was now the Reverend Florence B. Rush of

the First Church of the Divine Light. When Houdini went to Washington to give evidence for the Copeland Bloom bill, he sent Rose ahead as always. Suitably disguised, she went to visit two of Washington's most prominent mediums. Houdini called Rose Mackenburg to testify in front of the Congressional Committee. What is your full name? Reverend Rose Mackenburg. congressional committee. What is your full name? Reverend Rose Mackenburg. Rose explained that she's not just any old reverend.

No, she's been ordained six times as a spiritualist minister under various silly names. She has full rights to baptise, to marry and to bury. She explained too that the previous day, Sheard made appointments to see two of the best-known Washington mediums, Madame Marcia and Mrs Coates. Why are you dressed differently from what you are today? Houdini asked. Entirely different.

Madame Marcia and Mrs Coates were both in the committee room. They got up and started to shout. I demand the right to defend myself. Rose related the typically vague reading she received. Mrs Coates, she says, told her. The spirits tell me that you are going to take a trip very shortly and going to meet some person and be placed in a different environment. Could she be more specific?

No. As for Madame Marcia, she said a spirit was trying to communicate with her. By the name of... Juuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu Juuuuuusif? Or maybe Juuuuuuch? Anyway said Rose, I then engaged them in conversation about these hearings and this bill. The two mediums, both heavily built women, edged menacingly closer to Rose. I insist that Mrs Coates keep away from the witness! Houdini yelled. He turned back to Rose.

What did she tell you? Object! shouted Mrs Coates. The medium, said Rose, told me she thinks the bill won't pass, because most senators visit mediums. She named four senators who visit her. That's a lie. She named Senator Capper, Senator Watson, Senator Dill and Senator Fletcher. Then she said, I know for a fact there have been spiritual seances held at the White House with President Coolidge

and his family. The chairman vainly tried to restore order. A man barged through the crowd to lunge at Houdini shouting, I'll break your nose. A congressman threw himself in the way. The police were called. The newspapers loved it. Today's session, said the New York Times,

came near winding up in a free-for-all fist fight. The Chicago Daily Tribune reported that if looks could kill, Mrs Coats and Madame Marcia would have destroyed the existence of Miss Rose Makenberg. Rose herself later recalled, called, ordinarily I dislike scenes, but this pandemonium of unleashed hysteria was not only volcanically dramatic, but extremely funny. Mrs. Coates finally got her turn on the witness stand. She claimed that Rose's account of their meeting was all wrong, that actually she hadn't been fooled by Rose's disguise.

And that the message sheered past on from the spirits was this. You are doing work that is killing you. If you don't stop it, you will not live 18 months. Cautionary Tales will be back after the break. The congressional hearings on the Copeland Bloom Bill were a total waste of time. If you were hoping they might shed some light on the wisest way to legislate about mediums and fortune tellers. But if all you wanted was circus entertainment, they were great. Houdini theatrically brandished $10,000 in cash, hundreds of thousands in today's money. I'll give that to any medium, he says, who can prove they get knowledge by supernatural means.

Tell me what nickname my father called me when I was a boy. Or here, he reaches in his pocket and brings out a crumpled telegram. Tell me what this telegram says. The medium Madame Marcia yells from the audience. That money belongs to me. I predicted the election of President Harding. Wait a minute, says a congressman. I predicted that too. I see the matter is in dispute, adds another. Why don't I hold the 10,000 until it's settled? Houdini performed tricks to show how easily he could replicate the ways mediums claimed

to be getting messages from the spirits. Speaking through a trumpet, for example. Now put it to your ear and you have got to have faith. A congressman puts the trumpet to his ear. After making the congressman hear a voice, Houdini shows them a trick with writing on slates. He gets the congressman to examine two blank slates, then ties them together with a handkerchief. He gives another congressman a card

and tells him to drop it in a dictionary as Houdini rifles through the pages. There is no human being living who can tell me the number of the page in which that card has been trumped. Spirits, I want you to please give me the number of the page in which that card has been trumped. Spirits! I want you to please give me the number of the page. Spirits! Are you present? If you are here, pull my right ear. Houdini unwraps the handkerchief from around the slates on which are written two words. Are those the first and last words on the dictionary page where the card was dropped?

They are. Ladies and gentlemen, this is a trick. It is performed by mediums as a proof that they consult with the dead. proof that they consult with the dead. It is the easiest thing in the world to make someone believe whose heart is yearning to believe. It's the 1920s. The aftermath of the First World War and the terrible flu of 1918. The world had no shortage of bereaved relatives, whose hearts were yearning to believe. Houdini tells the congressman the story of how he once performed a slate-writing trick for President Roosevelt, and Roosevelt had later

asked whether it was genuinely a message from the spirits. When a great mind like Roosevelt asks that, there must be protection for those who cannot protect themselves. But was the Copeland Bloom bill the right way to provide that protection? When the opponents of the bill gave their evidence, there were moments of levity. Mrs Coates dramatically explained that through the power of his own negative thoughts, Houdini is destroying himself. Then snap to the journalist who burst out laughing. Madame Marcia engaged a congressman in earnest discussion about what it means to have Saturn

in Scorpio in the ascendancy. But there were more serious points too. Prophecy, spiritual guidance and advice are the very foundation of our religion. And to deny a spiritual minister the right to advise their followers is to curtail their privileges as ministers of their religion. It is a very delicate question, gentlemen. That hit home. As one congressman mused, it is mighty difficult to legislate about religion. Then how exactly do you define fortune telling?

The wording of the bill was hard to parse. You could read it as criminalizing a doctor giving a prognosis or the United States Weather Bureau providing a weather forecast. And what about uniting the separated? What does that mean? If a divorced lawyer persuades her clients to give their marriage another chance, would she be guilty of uniting the separated? By a strict construction of this law, perhaps she would. After all the fun with trumpets and slates and Saturn in Scorpio, eventually an actual lawyer took to the stand to give evidence, although one suspicious

congressman wanted to be sure he knew who they were speaking to. Are you a spiritualist? I am not, said the lawyer. Are you a palmist? I am not. You're just a lawyer. A mere lawyer. The mere lawyer explained that some clauses of the bill are hard to understand.

Others might criminalise things nobody wants to criminalise. And others still were already covered by existing legislation – on crimes such as fraud or obtaining money under false pretenses. The Copeland-Bloom bill doesn't actually accomplish what it wants to accomplish, she said. But perhaps Senator Copeland and Congressman Bloom shouldn't feel too bad about that. In the century that's followed, plenty more legislators have found psychic phenomena a slippery thing to regulate. In 2012, the International Journal of Law in Context published a paper by scholars from the University of Westminster, exploring why. The UK, for example, had tried the Vaguency Act, the Fraud Act,

the Theft Act, the Fraudulent Mediums Act, the Trade Descriptions Act and the unfair commercial practice regulations, all of them manifestly ineffective. Is paying to consult a medium a consumer transaction? An entertainment service? A religious experience? If a medium can't prove they're in touch with the dead, should the law care if they genuinely believe it? The article's authors reach a conclusion much like that of the mere lawyer. It seems unlikely that adequate legislation can be framed to deal with what is unknown or unprovable. But there's a bigger issue at play. Even when things are knowable or provable, there's

only so much the law can do to shield people from their own gullibility. It's not illegal, for example, to sell useless alternative health products, although it might be illegal to market them with claims you can't back up. Many countries make banks refund customers who fall for some kinds of scam, but not all scams. The impulse behind the Copeland Bloom bill, using the law to protect vulnerable people, is a noble one. But there comes a point when laws have to let the public make their own mistakes.

Or as one congressman summed it up to Houdini, with an air of resignation, I completely agree with you about all this. But what's the use in us legislating? A fool and his money are soon parted, and always will be. The showman Houdini takes the stand in the committee room one last time, to choreograph what Rose Mackenburg later describes as one of the most touching little domestic interludes I have ever seen. My character has been assailed, says Houdini.

It's true. One witness compared him to Judas. Someone else shouted anti-Semitic slurs while trying to punch him in the nose. He's been called brutal, vile and crazy. He wants to defend himself. There are no medals and ribbons on me. But when a girl will stick to a man for 32 years, it is a pretty good recommendation. I would like to have as a witness here, Mrs. Houdini.

Houdini turns to his wife, Bess. Have I shown traces of being crazy? Unless it was about you? No. Am I brutal to you or vile? No. Am I brutal to you or vile? No. Am I a good boy? Yes. Thank you, Mrs Houdini.

The Copeland Bloom bill didn't make it into law. Perhaps that didn't matter. Houdini had got a blizzard of newspaper coverage out of the hearings. The people who read those articles, like the people who came to his shows, might thereby be made less foolish, less liable to be parted from their money

by claims of supernatural abilities. As the hearings came to a close and Houdini prepared to leave, Madame Marcia came up to him. You're a smart man, Mr Houdini. But perhaps I can tell you something you don't know. What's that, Madame Marcia? When November comes around, you won't be here. How's that? You'll be dead.

Now, both Houdini and Rose Mackenburg had had their imminent demise foretold. Rose's work did not kill her. She went on to spend three more decades as an investigator of fraudulent mediums. Rose never married, but by the time she retired she reckoned she had been confidently put in touch with about 1,500 dead husbands, all of whom assured her that they were blissfully happy on the other side. 1500 dead husbands. Not a single one of them said he was lost without her. As Rose liked to joke...

That's not entirely flattering. But Houdini? What was it that Houdini had told the committee? If an astrologer makes enough guesses, sometimes they'll guess something right. Houdini would indeed be dead by November at the age of just 52, as we'll hear about next time

in the third and final episode of our three-part series. final episode of our three-part series. Newspaper articles written by Rose Machenberg are collated in a book by Tony Wolf called Houdini's Girl Detective. For a full list of our sources, see the show notes at timharford.com Cautionary Tales is written by me, Tim Harford, with Andrew Wright, Alice Fiennes and Ryan Dilley. It's produced by Georgia Mills and Marilyn Rust. The sound design and original music are the work of Pascal Wise. Additional sound design is by Carlos Sanjuan at Brain Audio. Ben Nadaph Haferi edited the scripts. The show features the voice talents of Melanie Gutridge, Stella Harford, Oliver Hembra, Sarah Jupp, Marceya Monroe, Jamal Westman and Rufus Wright.

The show also wouldn't have been possible without the work of Jacob Weisberg, Greta Cohn, Sarah Nix, Eric Sandler, Carrie Brody, Christina Sullivan, Keira Posey and Owen Miller. Cautionary Tales is a production of Pushkin Industries. It's recorded at Wardour Studios in London by Tom Berry.