History
Stacey Daniels met her first husband, Michael Wallace in 1985, when she was 17 years old. The couple married and had their first daughter, Ashley, in 1988. A second daughter, Bree, was born in 1991. Daniels was born in Clay, New York, on July 24, 1967. Her parents were Jerry Daniels and Judie Eaton. Daniels worked for an ambulance dispatch company, while Wallace spent his nights as a mechanic, yet the family still struggled financially. Daniels said Wallace was especially close to Bree, showing a favoritism she balanced out by becoming “best friends” with their older daughter Ashley. Despite their bonds with the kids, the couple drifted apart, and rumors swirled that both were involved in extramarital affairs.
In late 1999, Wallace started feeling sick off and on. His family remembers him seeming unsteady, coughing, and looking swollen. As his strange illness dragged on through the holidays, they urged him to see a doctor, but he passed away in early 2000 before he got the chance. Doctors told Castor her husband had died of a heart attack. Although Wallace’s sister didn’t believe that and wanted an autopsy. Daniels declined, saying she trusted the doctors’ conclusion.
In 2003, Stacey married David Castor and took his last name…the name she would carry for the rest of her life. David owned an air conditioning installation and repair business, where Stacey worked as his office manager. One afternoon in August 2005, Stacey called the Onondaga County sheriff’s office, saying David had locked himself in their bedroom after an argument and hadn’t been seen or heard from in a day. She added that he had been depressed lately. When Sergeant Robert Willoughby arrived for a wellness check, he kicked in the bedroom door and found David dead. Near his body were a container of antifreeze and a half-full glass of bright green liquid. Willoughby recalled Stacey screaming, “He’s not dead, he’s not dead.”
The coroner ruled David’s death a suicide from a self-administered lethal dose of antifreeze, but suspicion arose when police found Stacey’s fingerprints on the glass and discovered a turkey baster with David’s DNA on its tip. Investigators suspected she had used it to force-feed him once he was too weak to resist. With this new lead, they obtained permission to place audio and visual surveillance at the Castor home and the gravesites of Stacey’s husbands, buried side by side at her request. Detectives figured that if she truly loved her late husbands, she would visit their graves, but she never did. Eventually, they decided the only way to prove she was behind both deaths was to exhume Wallace’s body. A toxicology report confirmed that Wallace had also died from antifreeze poisoning.
In September 2007, after her first husband’s body had been exhumed, Castor decided to kill her daughter and “best friend” Ashley for the murders to save her own skin. This was her “best friend” and yet, she felt no 
remorse. A suicide note seemed her best option, so she typed it up and presented it as Ashley’s. Castor invited Ashley to the family home in Liverpool for a drink. Ashley agreed, as Castor was not just her mother but also her “best friend.” The next day, Castor invited Ashley over for drinks at home again, offering her a “nasty-tasting” beverage that she initially turned down. Seventeen hours later, Ashley was found unconscious in bed by her younger sister, Bree. Thankfully, Bree insisted they get help, prompting Castor to call 911. When Bree briefly stepped away and returned, she discovered a suicide note beside Ashley, allegedly confessing to the murders of her father and stepfather. Castor swiftly took the note and later handed it to paramedics. Tests showed that Ashley had potentially deadly painkillers in her system and would likely have died if she’d arrived at the hospital just minutes later. When she woke up, police asked her about the murders and the suicide note. She said the last thing she remembered was her mother making her an alcoholic drink, which had never happened before. She told them she hadn’t written the note and was baffled by their questions.
The DA even pointed out that Castor may have even murdered her own father, Jerry Daniels, who died February 22, 2002, shortly after his daughter visited him in the hospital where he had a minor lung complaint. Castor’s first husband’s family also believes Castor may have killed her father by bringing in an open can of soda for her father to drink. She was the executor of his estate. On February 5, 2009, Castor was convicted of second-degree murder for poisoning David and of attempted second-degree murder for overdosing Ashley. She kept her eyes closed as the verdicts were read. Keller stated she would appeal the decision, planning to challenge the use of evidence related to Wallace’s death, for which Castor had not been charged.
On March 5, 2009, during Castor’s sentencing, Garvey urged Judge Fahey to hand down the maximum consecutive sentences, citing the brutality of David’s death. She condemned Castor for “partying in her backyard with friends like nothing was happening” while Ashley lay comatose in her room. Calling her cold, calculating, and devoid of emotion, Garvey said, “Human life is sacred. Stacey Castor places no value on it, not even her own flesh and blood. To her, people are disposable.” David’s son, cheated out of his inheritance, also pleaded for severe punishment, calling Castor “a monster and a threat to society” who had caused immense pain and loss, multiplying the suffering among the families she hurt.
Judge Fahey told Castor he had never seen a parent try to kill their own child just to frame them for a crime they committed. He told her she was “in a class all by herself.” The judge then gave her the maximum sentence of twenty-five years to life for David’s murder, plus another twenty-five years for attempting to kill Ashley. For forging David’s will, he added an extra 1 1/3 to 4 years in prison. The trial had lasted for four weeks. An emotional Ashley told the judge she hated her mother “for ruining so many people’s lives” but still loved her for the bond she had originally had with her. She said, “I never knew what hate was until now. Even though I do hate her, I still love her at the same time. That bothers me, it is so confusing. How can you hate someone and love them at the same time? I just wish that she would say sorry for everything she did, including all the lies. As horrible as it makes me feel, this is goodbye mom. As hard as you tried, I survived and I will survive because now I’m surrounded by people that love me. I’m going to do good things in this world despite making me in every sense of the word an orphan.”
Castor became New York Department of Corrections inmate number 09G0209 and was placed in Bedford Hills Correctional Facility for Women in Bedford Hills, New York. Even with credit for time served, her earliest possible release date was June 15, 2055…slightly over a month shy of her 88th birthday. Castor had been dubbed “The Black Widow” by media outlets. Her prison term would be long, but she wouldn’t live to see much of it. Castor was found dead in her cell on the morning of June 11, 2016. It was not immediately apparent how she died and the manner of her death was listed as undetermined; it was later determined by the DA’s office that she died of a heart attack, with no evidence of suicide or foul play.
Alexandre Gustave Eiffel was a French civil engineer. He was born in France’s Côte-d’Or, the first child of Catherine-Mélanie (née Moneuse) and Alexandre Bonickhausen dit Eiffel. He descended from Jean-René Bönickhausen, who had left the German town of Marmagen and settled in Paris in the early 18th century. The family adopted the name Eiffel as a nod to the Eifel mountains in their native region. Although they always went by Eiffel, Gustave’s birth was registered as Bonickhausen dit Eiffel, and it wasn’t officially changed to Eiffel until 1880. It’s always sad, in my estimation, when last names are changed for any other reason but marriage. So often the line of ancestors can also be lost in that change.
When Alexandre, who always went by Gustave finished his public schooling, he went on to graduate from École Centrale des Arts et Manufactures. After graduation, he began to make a name for himself with various bridges for the French railway network, most famously the Garabit Viaduct. Gustav had planned to work in his uncle’s workshop in Dijon after graduating, but a family dispute put an end to that idea. After spending a few months 
as an unpaid assistant to his brother-in-law, who ran a foundry, Gustav reached out to railway engineer Charles Nepveu, who offered him his first paid role as a private secretary. Soon after, Nepveu’s company went bankrupt, but he helped Gustav land a job designing a 72-foot sheet iron bridge for the Saint Germaine railway. When some of Nepveu’s businesses were taken over by the Compagnie Belge de Matériels de Chemin de Fer, Nepveu became managing director of two factories in Paris and brought Gustav on as head of the research department.
In 1857, Nepveu secured a contract to build a railway bridge over the Garonne River in Bordeaux, linking the Paris-Bordeaux line with routes to Sète and Bayonne. The project involved constructing a 1,600-foot iron girder bridge supported by six pairs of masonry piers on the riverbed, built using compressed air caissons and hydraulic rams…cutting-edge methods at the time. Gustav first oversaw the assembly of the metalwork but later took charge of the entire project after Nepveu resigned in March 1860.
While Gustav Eiffel built a number of bridges in his lifetime, he is most famous for the Eiffel Tower, created by his company for the 1889 Universal Exposition in Paris, and for helping build the Statue of Liberty in New York. However, a little-known fact is that Paris was not the location Gustav initially had in mind when he designed the 
tower. Originally, he presented the design to city officials in Barcelona, Spain. The officials who saw the design deemed it too ugly for their city. So, Gustav switched gears and had his tower constructed in Paris as a temporary showpiece for the 1889 International Exposition…and it’s been drawing visitors to the City of Light ever since. I wonder what the officials in Barcelona thought of their comments after the Eiffel Tower became such a showpiece in Paris. After retiring from engineering, Gustav turned his attention to meteorology and aerodynamics, where he also made notable contributions. Gustav Eiffel died peacefully on December 27, 1923, supposedly while listening to Beethoven’s 5th symphony andante, in his mansion on Rue Rabelais in Paris. He was 91. He was buried in the family tomb in Levallois-Perret Cemetery.
When you think about the years of the Earth, and all that has happened over all that time, much of it during a time when recorded history was next to impossible, it has been estimated that as much as 97% of the world’s history has been lost to time. Of course, we have the Bible, so the Earth’s beginnings have been recorded and much of that time period, but even during that time there were limited historical records. The history of the average, everyday person was not recorded. Then when we consider the various languages and the lack of the ability to communicate, and we can see how so many of history’s events could be lost.
We’re not just talking about human history here. I don’t know and no one else does either, exactly how many years the Earth has been in existence…nor will we likely ever know. I for one will never debate the truth of the Bible, so my story will be written from that aspect. The records of early life recorded in the Bible are true. However, not every person who lived at that time was necessarily recorded in the Bible. That would 
have been an impossible task, so the history of those other people would not have been recorded, nor would their accomplishments, even if they were remarkable. They were simply not a part of the Bibles purpose.
So, the history of many people from that time was an untold story. Carry that fact forward of the passage of time, and the fact that many people even today don’t record or have a record of their own history. Over time, many people have been lost to their family, and the family timelines have been severed. Things like family name changes, sealed adoptions, abductions, and other types of disappearances, have destroyed the timelines. And that is just the human descendant line.
Then, there is the history of discoveries, some of which we know, and others that we either took for granted or 
simply knew nothing about. The failures of inventions would have simply been thrown in the trash, often with nothing learned from the attempt. While we may thing that the only inventions were in modern times, there were many inventions that happened in very early times…we just think of them as something that had been there for many years. Sometimes, we knew that something was an invention, but the history of the invention was lost or unrecorded. Then there are the records lost to fire, flood, or other natural disasters. Unless someone who was there at the time, knew the facts, they are lost. It is a sad reality. When you think about all these factors, you can see how as much as 97% of history could be lost.
Remember the last time you went to the movies? There might have been a line to get in, but with movies now available at home on TV, the lines probably aren’t what they used to be…if people go out to the movies at all. I remember standing outside for over an hour just to get inside, even in the freezing winter, because you really wanted to see that movie. When I was a kid, the theater would be packed with children eager to watch the latest Disney film, and as soon as the lights went out, the excitement would erupt into loud screams. It was pure, uncontainable joy spilling out in the form of shouts. That is a thing of the past for sure.
Let’s take a trip back to when movies were brand new, and the thrill of them hadn’t worn off like it has today. Back then, not everyone had seen a moving picture show. Even as kids, brimming with excitement for the latest film, we couldn’t imagine the level of wonder that came with those very first shows. Sure, some people might have thought this new kind of entertainment wasn’t a good idea, but most saw it as something thrilling they wanted to experience. I doubt anyone back then could have guessed the enormous impact those early moving pictures would have on humanity.
Today, we have much more than old-fashioned moving picture shows, and television, found in nearly every American home, offers far more than just entertainment. With a simple click, we’re instantly connected to weather alerts, breaking news, politics, sports, and, of course, entertainment. We can explore learning channels that teach us about everything from animals to languages to space and even watch programs from our favorite religious leaders.
A lot has changed since the days of the first moving picture show. While we still go to the movies, the lines are rarely as long, likely because films play in multiple theaters with several showings a day, including matinees. 
Many people skip the theater altogether, opting to wait for a release on television. They feel like the snacks have become such an expensive part of the show, that it’s cheaper to skip the theater an make our own snacks at home. These days, we have even more options, like watching on a PC, laptop, tablet, or even smartphones. However we choose to enjoy it, it all began with the moving picture show.
Palais Bulles, also called “Bubble Palace” is a sprawling residence in Théoule-sur-Mer, near Cannes, France. It was designed by Hungarian architect Antti Lovag and originally built for French industrialist Pierre Bernard. It was later purchased by fashion designer Pierre Cardin as a holiday retreat. I can see why these people might like the Bubble Palace. After all, it is unique. Certainly, no one else is likely to have the same house. Many people are very opposed to “cookie cutter houses” after all….and this house was definitely not cookie cutter!! This 13,000-square-foot house was built between 1975 and 1989 for French industrialist Pierre Bernard. Architect Antti Lovag, who saw straight lines as “an aggression against nature,” designed it as a playful space full of joy and surprises.
After Bernard’s death in 1991, fashion designer Pierre Cardin purchased the house. Strangely, Bernard never lived there, yet he described it as his own slice of paradise. He mentioned that its cellular shapes had long mirrored the essence of his creations. He considered it a museum showcasing the work of contemporary designers and artists. It is strange to purchase a palace to use as a museum, but never open it to the public. I 
guess he wanted his own museum, or he simply never got the whole plan into place, unfortunately.
In 2016, French architect Odile Decq completed a five-year renovation. By March 2017, the property was on the market for €350 million, but it didn’t sell. Instead, it could be rented out to groups for $33,200 a day…not something the average family could afford. After Cardin’s death in December 2020, there were suggestions to transform the building into a public space for art exhibitions. The house features a reception hall, a panoramic lounge, a 500-seat open-air amphitheater, 10 bedrooms, and multiple swimming pools and waterfalls set within expansive landscaped grounds. The Palais features 29 rooms, 11 bathrooms, and ten bedrooms, each uniquely decorated by a different artist, including Patrice Breteau, Jerome Tisserand, Daniel You, François Chauvin, and Gerard Cloarec.
The house has been featured is several movies and music videos. While its design is unique, it is really a unique oddity that began in the mind of an artist-architect-designer, and probably never a practical building. It does have a bubble-like look, which makes it interesting, but not practical. I think designers of unusual buildings might be a bit eccentric, and maybe that explains the Bubble Palace.
Sometimes, I am amazed by the eccentricity of people, especially when they are people in power. Eccentricity is putting it mildly when it comes to Roman Emperor Gaius, also known as Caligula. Emperor Gaius may have been a great leader, but that is not what he has been remembered for unfortunately. He is remembered for being…maybe a little crazy. Emperor Gaius was a kind enough man, both to people and to animals. He loved his horses especially…so much, in fact, that he made one of his favorite horses a senator within his government. His horse was named Incitatus, and Emperor Gaius made sure he lived in luxury, giving him a marble stall, an ivory manger, a jeweled collar, and even a house…for a horse!! Emperor Gaius also allegedly planned to make his trusty steed Consul before he was assassinated.
Gaius was born on August 31, 12 AD, to Germanicus, a well-loved Roman general, and Agrippina the Elder of the Julio-Claudian dynasty. Soldiers fondly called him “Caligula,” or “little boot,” because of the tiny military boots he wore as a child. After his father’s death in 19 AD and the political chaos that followed, Gaius and his family endured many hardships, including the execution of several relatives under Emperor Tiberius, leaving a lasting impact on him. Caligula became emperor in AD 37 at just 24 years old, after the death of Tiberius. At first, he was well-liked and introduced reforms, including public works and building projects to help the people of Rome. But things soon shifted, as his reign grew marked by extravagance, cruelty, and demands to be treated like a god. He’s often remembered for strange behavior, like supposedly wanting to make his horse a consul, along with acts of violence against those he saw as enemies.
Caligula is still seen as a controversial figure, often remembered as one of history’s most notorious rulers, representing the extremes of power and the risk of tyranny in the Roman Empire. His life and reign continue to spark fascination and debate among historians and scholars. Caligula’s reign lasted only four years. The eccentric Emperor met his fate in a conspiracy involving the Praetorian Guard. After a serious illness, Gaius’ 
bizarre behavior and bold claims of divinity stirred unrest among the people. On January 24, 41 AD, he was assassinated by Cassius Chaerea, Cornelius Sabinus, and others, along with his wife and daughter. His rule had been infamous for extravagant spending, ruthless treatment of rivals, and even naming his horse as consul…a symbol of his unchecked power. this likely led to the unrest among the people. His death signaled the end of an era and stood as a warning to future emperors about the dangers of their actions and the threat of violent uprisings. It was a pivotal moment in Roman history, paving the way for his uncle Claudius to take the throne. While historical accounts often depict Caligula in a negative light, some modern historians believe many accusations against him were likely exaggerated or driven by political agendas. I suppose we will never know for sure.
John Moses Browning, often called the “father of modern firearms,” was born in Ogden, Utah, on January 23, 1855. He was the son of a talented gunsmith, Jonathan Browning. As was typical in the Mormon church community at the time, Jonathan Browning practiced polygamy, marrying three wives. He had 22 children, including John Moses, and also helped raise two stepdaughters with his wife Elizabeth Caroline Clark.
Browning started working in his father’s Ogden shop at just seven years old. There he learned basic engineering and manufacturing skills. His father also encouraged him to try out new ideas, thereby fostering his creativity. While still apprenticing under his father, Browning built his first rifle…a single-shot, falling block action design. In 1878, he teamed up with his younger brother to found the John Moses and Matthew Sandefur Browning Company, later known as Browning Arms Company. There, the brothers produced their own designs and other non-military firearms. By 1882, their half-brothers Jonathan, Thomas, William, and George had joined the business. Many legendary guns associated with the American West…like those from Winchester, Colt, Remington, and Savage…were actually based on Browning’s designs.
At 24, Browning earned his first patent for a rifle that Winchester produced as the Single Shot Model 1885. Impressed by his ingenuity, Winchester asked Browning to create a lever-action repeating shotgun. He did, but he soon realized a pump-action design would be more effective, leading to his first pump-action shotgun patent in 1888. At their core, all of Browning’s manually-operated repeating rifle and shotgun designs focused on one goal…making it faster and more reliable for shooters to fire multiple rounds, whether aiming at game birds or people. Lever and pump actions let the user fire a shot, work the lever or pump to eject the spent shell, load a fresh cartridge, and fire again in just seconds.
By the late 1880s, Browning had mastered the manual repeating firearm, but to make guns fire even faster, he needed to remove the slow process of humans operating the mechanisms. What could replace the effort of pulling a lever or pump? The answer came to him at a local shooting competition, where he noticed “reeds between a shooter and the target being blown violently aside by gases escaping from the muzzle.” Browing had the idea of harnessing that escaping gas to automatically operate the repeating mechanism. He started working on his idea in 1889, and by 1892 he had a patent for the first rough version of a fully automatic weapon. It worked by capturing gases at the muzzle to power a mechanism that reloaded the next bullet automatically.
I am amazed at the mind of this man. Over the years, he improved the design, and by the time US soldiers headed to Europe in World War I, many were armed with Browning Automatic Rifles and his powerful machine guns. Over a career lasting more than fifty years, Browning’s firearms evolved from iconic weapons of the American West to lethal instruments of world war. Remarkably, since his death in 1926, the modern firearm industry has seen no major fundamental changes. No improvements could be made, it seems.
On January 22, 1879, American soldiers chased Cheyenne Chief Dull Knife and his people as they made a desperate run for freedom. The clash ended in a devastating defeat for Dull Knife and his band, as the soldiers brought the so-called Dull Knife Outbreak to a crushing end.
Dull Knife, also known as Morning Star, was a prominent chief of the Northern Cheyenne tribe. He had long advocated for peace with the powerful Anglo-Americans moving into his homeland in the Powder River region of present-day Wyoming and Montana. But the 1864 Sand Creek massacre, where Colorado militiamen killed over 200 peaceful Cheyenne, made him doubt they could ever be trusted. Reluctantly, he led his people into a war he feared they couldn’t win. In 1876, many of his people fought alongside Crazy Horse and Sitting Bull in their victory at the Battle of Little Bighorn, though Dull Knife himself did not take part.
In the winter after Little Bighorn, Dull Knife and his people camped near the headwaters of the Powder River in Wyoming, only to be caught in the army’s winter campaign for revenge. In November, General Ranald Mackenzie’s forces found the village and attacked, costing Dull Knife many lives. Along with other Native leaders, he reluctantly surrendered the following spring. By 1877, the military had moved Dull Knife and his followers far from their Wyoming homeland to Indian Territory 
on the southern plains, in what is now Kansas and Oklahoma. Unable to hunt traditionally and reliant on scarce government rations, they suffered from hunger, homesickness, and disease. After a year, they rebelled, and in September 1878 joined another band in an epic journey back to Wyoming. Though Dull Knife declared peaceful intentions, the government saw them as renegades, and soldiers from across the Plains pursued them without success. Still, running for your life can take its toll.
When Dull Knife and his people reached Fort Robinson, Nebraska, near their Wyoming homeland, they surrendered to the government, hoping to be allowed to remain in the area. Instead, officials threatened to keep them captive at the fort unless they agreed to return south to the Indian Territory. Refusing to give up when his goal was so close, Dull Knife led about 100 of his people in a final desperate bid for freedom in early January. Soldiers from the fort pursued the already weak and starving group of men, women, and children, and on January 22, attacked and killed at least 30, including several members of Dull Knife’s immediate family.
Wounded and weary, most of the survivors returned to Fort Robinson and resigned themselves to their fate. Dull Knife escaped and eventually found refuge with Chief Red Cloud on the Sioux reservation in Nebraska. Allowed to stay there, he died four years later, filled with bitterness toward the White Man he had once hoped to live alongside in peace. That same year, the government finally granted the Northern Cheyenne a permanent reservation on the Tongue River in Montana, close to their ancestral homeland. At last, Dull Knife’s people had returned home, though their great chief did not live to see it.
Anyone familiar with the Civil War knows the Union emerged victorious, but that doesn’t mean they won every battle. Few wars see completely one-sided battlefield results, and the Battle of Fredericksburg was a clear example. On December 11, 1862, Ambrose Burnside, newly appointed commander of the Army of the Potomac, set out to cross the Rappahannock River in Virginia with more than 120,000 troops. Delays meant the crossing wasn’t completed until December 13th, when they faced Robert E. Lee’s 80,000…strong Confederate Army at Fredericksburg. With 200,000 soldiers engaged, it was the largest troop concentration of the Civil War…and a devastating loss for the Union. Nearly 13,000 Union soldiers were killed or wounded, compared to about 5,000 Confederate casualties.
People might think that Burnside was not much of a commander, but it should be mentioned that this was the first time he had commanded an army. He was a graduate of West Point, had risen quickly up the ranks, and had seen action in several battles prior to this fateful day. Abraham Lincoln had approached him about taking control of the Union’s Army. He hesitated, partly out of loyalty to the current commander and former classmate, and partly because he was unsure of his own ability. In the end the prior commander’s failure assured that he was on the way out, and rather than have Major General Joseph Hooker, a fierce rival, pass him up, Burnside accepted the commission on November 7, 1862.
Knowing he needed the element of surprise, Burnside devised a plan to face Lee’s Army of Northern Virginia at Fredericksburg. His idea was to move his troops to the banks of the Rappahannock River, quickly assemble pontoon bridges, and cross over to catch the enemy off guard. Lincoln admired the boldness of the plan and approved it, though he doubted its chances of success. Burnside moved swiftly, arriving at the river by November 19, 1862. Whether the plan could have worked remains unknown, as some Union generals, including Winfield Scott Hancock, believed the river could be crossed without boats and failed to send them, urging Burnside to proceed anyway. Convinced the river was too swift and deep, Burnside refused. They ended up waiting a week for the boats…right under the watchful eyes of Confederate scouts.
The element of surprise was gone. As soon as they started building the pontoon bridges, the Confederate Army opened fire. Burnside responded with a massive bombardment of Fredericksburg, marking the first time a city was shelled in the Civil War. The Union held off the Confederates just long enough to finish the bridges and rush across the river. Two days later, Burnside ordered his left flank to strike Lee’s right, hoping to force Lee to shift troops south and leave the center and Marye’s Heights exposed. For a while, it seemed like the plan might work—General George Meade broke through “Stonewall” Jackson’s line…but the Union didn’t send enough reinforcements, allowing the Confederates to launch a successful counterattack. Lee kept James Longstreet’s men in place at Marye’s Heights, where they crushed Union forces. Burnside lost eight soldiers for every Confederate killed. Though he briefly considered another assault, the battle was over. The Union suffered nearly 13,000 casualties compared to fewer than 5,000 for the Confederates, and they had to regroup before making another attempt.
Burnside was an unpopular commander, partly because he tended to rush into action without much planning. His insecurities ultimately led to his downfall. While preparing his next attack, some of his officers went to President Lincoln with their concerns, prompting Lincoln to call it off. On January 20, 1863, Burnside was ready to try again, but delays with the pontoon bridges and worsening weather got in the way. What had been a dry month turned rainy, leaving roads nearly impassable. Troops who had once marched 40 miles a day to Fredericksburg now struggled to make even a mile. For three days, they slogged through what became known as the “Mud March,” taunted along the way by Confederate forces watching from dry ground. Five days after it began, the offensive was over…along with Burnside’s brief six-week command of the Army of the Potomac. Lincoln quickly replaced him with the very man Burnside had feared: Joseph Hooker.
Fredericksburg marked a low point for the North in the war, while the South celebrated. Burnside might have been better off sticking to his side career in weapon design, which he returned to after retiring in 1853. In 1856, he earned his first patent for a .54 caliber breech-loading firearm. Impressed by its performance, the U.S. Army gave the Bristol Firearm Company in Rhode Island, where Burnside worked, a $100,000 contract. But the deal was abruptly canceled under suspicious circumstances, allegedly due to a rival munitions company bribing the army ordnance department to change suppliers. Burnside’s misfortune continued the next year with a failed Congressional run, followed by a fire that destroyed the Bristol factory, forcing him to sell his patents. Others profited when, at the start of the Civil War, demand for his invention surged. By 1865, over 55,000 carbines had been ordered, making the Burnside one of the Union’s most popular weapons—second only to the Sharps carbine and my ancestor Christopher Spencer’s Spencer Carbine.
Burnside eventually found his claim to fame, but it wasn’t for war or weaponry. He sported facial hair in a style very unusual for the era…a bushy beard and moustache paired with a clean-shaven chin. Burnside’s distinctive whiskers were originally named for him…named “burnsides,” but over time, the name was flipped to become “sideburns.”
Over the history of the world, there have been many forms of “currency” or at least what was used for currency. In the Old West, doctors often took chickens or eggs for their medical services. During the gold rush, those who found gold dust knew that they could also spend the gold dust. Many other forms of currency have been used, but possibly one of the strangest was tulip bulbs. Nevertheless, it was a real thing for a short time. Tulpenmanie, tulip mania in English, was a period during the Dutch Golden Age. During that time, the prices for certain bulbs of the newly introduced and fashionable tulip soared to astonishing heights.
It’s strange to think of a flower bulb being so expensive that it could be used a currency, but the rapid rise began in 1634, only to collapse dramatically in February 1637. I guess they finally realized how strange it was. Tulpenmanie was seen as the first recorded speculative or asset bubble, it was more of an unfamiliar socio-economic curiosity than a major economic crisis. It had little impact on the prosperity of the Dutch Republic, which remained one of the world’s leading economic powers in the 17th century, boasting the highest per capita income from around 1600 to 1720. Today, the term “Tulip Mania” is often used to describe any large economic bubble where asset prices stray far from their intrinsic values.
Forward markets emerged in the Dutch Republic in the 17th century, with one of the most famous revolving around the tulip trade. A forward market is “an over-the-counter marketplace that sets the price of a financial instrument or asset for future delivery.” At the height of tulip mania in February 1637, some bulbs sold for over ten times the annual income of a skilled artisan. It was crazy!! Studying this period is tricky due to scarce and often biased economic records from the 1630s. Some modern economists suggest that price swings may have had logical causes rather than being pure speculation. For instance, other flowers like hyacinths also started with high prices that dropped as they became easier to grow. Prices may have been further boosted by expectations of a law allowing contracts to be canceled cheaply, reducing risks for buyers.
The 1637 event drew renewed attention in 1841 with the release of the book Extraordinary Popular Delusions and the Madness of Crowds by Scottish journalist Charles Mackay, who claimed that at one point, “5 hectares 
(12 acres) of land were offered for a single Semper Augustus bulb.” He wrote that many investors were ruined when prices collapsed, dealing a severe blow to Dutch commerce. While Mackay’s work is often cited, his version of events is debated, and many modern scholars think the mania wasn’t as devastating as he portrayed. We will likely never know, but rather there will always be merely speculation, mostly due to the era in which the mania occurred.
