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Most of us weren’t in the room for history’s most famous happenings. That means it just takes one slip-up or folktale — whether because of an overzealous biographer, a creative retelling, propaganda, or just a story that’s easy to latch on to — to create a whole new version of events.

From half-truths and misunderstandings to straight-up fabrications, here are five historical events that didn’t happen like you probably thought they did.

George Washington Didn’t Chop Down a Cherry Tree

It’s a common American parable: Founding father George Washington got a hatchet as a gift when he was 6 years old and, eager to test out his new tool, he hacked up his father’s cherry tree. The story goes that when Washington’s father discovered the damage, Washington responded, “I can’t tell a lie, Pa; you know I can’t tell a lie. I did cut it with my hatchet.”

His father then delivered a tidy moral: “Glad am I, George, that you killed my tree; for you have paid me for it a thousand fold. Such an act of heroism in my son, is more worth than a thousand trees.”

If that dialogue feels a little too scripted, it’s because it was completely made up after Washington died. Ironically, this fable about honesty was fabricated by biographer and pastor Mason Locke Weems. Responding to public demand for more stories about Washington’s life, Weems embellished his book, The Life of Washington, with many enduring myths, including the ever-popular cherry tree anecdote.

Perhaps what cements this particular story in the Washington mythos more than others is its popularity as a standalone moral tale for children. Minister William Holmes McGuffy simplified the story and included it in his McGuffy’s Readers series, which were used in schools for around a century. The anecdote endures today through political cartoons, commentary, and, of course, countless additional children’s books.

Thomas Edison Didn’t Invent the Light Bulb

What’s a more iconic symbol for an inventor than the light bulb? With 1,093 patents to his name, it’s easy to picture Thomas Edison with a cartoon bulb above his head at all times — especially since he’s sometimes credited with inventing the incandescent bulb. He didn’t invent it, though; he just improved on it.

It took a series of inventors to create a light bulb that was practical for everyday use, and although Edison was responsible for multiple links on that chain, he didn’t do the work alone. Arc lamps, invented by Humphry Davy in the early 1800s, provided many of the earliest electric street lights, while Scottish inventor James Bowman Lindsay was likely the first to demonstrate a sealed glass bulb that provided constant light through incandescent wires in 1835. In the 1870s, incandescent bulbs became a hot topic in the science world, and many inventors helped move the technology along, including Joseph Swan, William Sawyer, Albon Mann, and, yes, Edison.

Edison did make some major contributions to the light bulb that we use in our homes today. He patented a long-lasting carbon filament and, along with other scientists, improved its manufacturing process. He also invented the Edison Screw, the twist-in light bulb socket that we still use today.

Marie Antoinette Didn’t Say “Let Them Eat Cake”

The most enduring legend about French Queen Marie Antoinette is that when she was told her people didn’t have bread, she coldheartedly replied, “Qu’ils mangent de la brioche” (“Let them eat cake”). The problem with that legend is that the quote is not directly attributable to her — and some historians believe it would have been out of character for her to say it, anyway.

Versions of the “let them eat cake” story had been circling French monarchs for years, starting at least 100 years before the reign of Marie Antoinette. The same anecdote with a slightly different quote was attributed to Marie-Terese — coincidentally, also the name of Antoinette’s mother and daughter — who married King Louis XIV in 1660. In that case, it was “the crust of the pate” rather than “cake.” In the intervening years, the story was attributed to a variety of French royals before it stuck to Antoinette.

In her book Marie Antoinette: The Journey, biographer Antonia Fraser argues that not only did Antoinette not deliver the famous line, but she also disagreed with the sentiment. While Marie Antoinette’s lavish royal lifestyle was perhaps unseemly in the face of her subjects’ plight, she often expressed a sense of responsibility toward them.

“It is quite certain that in seeing the people who treat us so well despite their own misfortune, we are more obliged than ever to work hard for their happiness,” Antoinette wrote in a letter to her mother.

William Tell Didn’t Shoot an Apple Off His Son’s Head

You probably know the legend of William Tell, or at least the gist of it. During the period of the Old Swiss Confederacy, Tell, a local farmer and renowned marksman, refused to acknowledge Austrian authority and was forced to shoot an arrow at an apple on his son’s head. In case he failed, he saved an arrow for the governor who had ordered him to do so. This, the story goes, inspired resistance to Austrian rule among the Swiss people.

There’s one problem: Many historians say Tell never existed in the first place.

The basic tale we’ve come to associate with Tell is common in European folklore, sometimes predating Tell himself. In several nearly identical versions, spare arrow and all, only the archer (and his oppressor) change; in some, the central figure is a German folk hero, a Danish chieftain, or English outlaw Adam Bell.

Even without that context, many consider the source dubious. The legend was first detailed around 1570, 250 years after it was supposed to have taken place. Later in the story, Tell is part of an oath of freedom and unity with leaders of three different areas. But other accounts of this event, which inspired Swiss Independence Day, say it took place several years earlier — without anybody named “William Tell” present.

However, thanks to works such as Friedrich Schiller’s 1804 play William Tell and the iconic “William Tell Overture” (from a French opera by the same name), Tell is still a household name throughout the world. Just maybe a fictional one.

Paul Revere Didn’t Yell “The British Are Coming!”

Nearly 250 years after the fabled ride of Paul Revere leading up to the American Revolution battles of Lexington and Concord, many people believe he yelled the phrase, “The British are coming!” along the way — but this would have lacked a lot of subtlety for Revere, who also worked as a spy.

By Revere’s own account in a letter and deposition, he was one of three riders sent to spread the word about the British troops being on the move from Boston. They were also tasked with stopping in Lexington to let Samuel Adams and John Hancock know that some troops were coming to arrest them, although that bit of intel later proved false.

On the way to Lexington, Revere did warn many households of the upcoming battle, but the operation was far more discreet than boldly yelling, “The British are coming,” as some British soldiers were hiding out in the countryside and some residents still considered themselves British. It’s more likely that he quietly warned people of the attack. In warning Adams and Hancock, he used the term “the regulars.”

There are plenty of other misconceptions about Revere’s story, and most of them are from the 1860 poem Paul Revere’s Ride by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. For example, he didn’t make it to Concord, since he got detained on the way out. (Another rider, Samuel Prescott, made it the whole way.) Revere did get a friend to light those “one if by land, two if by sea” signal lanterns — meant to alert patriots about the route the British were taking toward Concord — in the church tower, but he already had the intel. The message, sent two days before the ride, was actually from Revere to let others know what was happening in case he couldn’t get over the river to Charlestown.

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In their 1989 paper “Methods for Studying Coincidences,” math professors Persi Diaconis and Frederick Mosteller defined a coincidence as a “surprising concurrence of events, perceived as meaningfully related, with no apparent causal connection.”

It’s an apt definition, but it doesn’t quite do justice to those coincidences that tie together people and places in a way that almost makes you wonder whether something supernatural is going on. Here are seven such coincidences — some of historical significance, others just downright mind-blowing — that have rational people questioning the odds of just how things could have unfolded that way.

John Adams and Thomas Jefferson Both Died on the 50th Anniversary of Independence Day

Founding Fathers John Adams and Thomas Jefferson seemingly shared some kind of cosmic connection. After striking up a friendship at the 1775 Continental Congress, they teamed up to draft the Declaration of Independence, concurrently served in Europe as American diplomats, and became the second and third U.S. Presidents, respectively, before partisan fighting drove them apart. But they reignited a regular correspondence in their golden years through the cusp of the 50th anniversary of the signing of the Declaration on July 4, 1826. That day, as he lay on his deathbed, Adams reportedly delivered his final words, “Thomas Jefferson survives,” not realizing his old friend and former rival had passed away a few hours earlier.

John Wilkes Booth’s Brother Saved the Life of Abraham Lincoln’s Son

It may seem off-kilter to conflate the names Booth and Lincoln for a story with a happy ending, but that’s what happened during a near-disaster at a crowded New Jersey train platform around late 1863. Then a student at Harvard, Robert Todd Lincoln found himself pressed against a train that suddenly lurched forward and spun him onto the tracks before a quick-reacting good samaritan hauled him to safety. Lincoln immediately recognized his savior as the famous actor Edwin Booth, though it took a congratulatory letter from a mutual friend for Booth to realize that he had rescued President Abraham Lincoln’s oldest son. Regardless, any goodwill between the two families soon vanished when Booth’s pro-Confederate younger brother, John Wilkes Booth, fatally ambushed the President in April 1865.

Mark Twain Entered and Exited the World With Halley’s Comet

Two weeks after Halley’s Comet passed its November 1835 perihelion — the point of orbit closest to the sun — a boy named Samuel Langhorne Clemens was born in Florida, Missouri. Clemens went on to worldwide fame as Mark Twain, but there was no slowing the passage of time, and in 1909, the septuagenarian author told his biographer that he expected an astronomical bookending to his days. “It will be the greatest disappointment of my life if I don’t go out with Halley’s Comet,” he revealed. “The Almighty has said, no doubt: ‘Now here are these two unaccountable freaks; they came in together, they must go out together.'” The Almighty must have listened, and on April 21, 1910, one day after Halley’s Comet again reached its perihelion, Twain died from a heart attack at age 74.

The Car That Brought About WWI Also Predicted Its End

It was the event that triggered World War I, yet also seemingly carried a harbinger for when peace would return to the land. On June 28, 1914, Austro-Hungarian Archduke Franz Ferdinand and his wife, Sophie, were shot at point-blank range by Bosnian revolutionary Gavrilo Princip as they rode through Sarajevo in their touring car. While onlookers converged on the dying royals and their assassin, no one could have grasped the significance of the car’s license plate, which read AIII 118. Read another way, with the I’s switched to 1’s and slight changes in spacing applied, and you have 11/11/18 — the date of Armistice Day, which formally ended the Great War.

Wilmer McLean Hosted the First Major Battle and Formal Conclusion of the Civil War

Northern Virginia plantation owner Wilmer McLean was happy to cede his grounds to pro-slavery Confederates for what became the First Battle of Bull Run in July 1861. However, he was tired of the destruction by the time his plantation was again used for the follow-up battle in August 1862, and he moved his family south to the isolated village of Appomattox Court House the following year. Turns out he didn’t get quite far enough away from the action, as an aide to General Robert E. Lee requested the use of McLean’s new residence for a surrender to Union General Ulysses S. Grant in April 1865.

Two Versions of “Dennis the Menace” Surfaced on the Same Day

On March 12, 1951, “Dennis the Menace” appeared for the first time in the British weekly comic magazine The Beano. That same day, “Dennis the Menace” debuted in 16 American newspapers. Was it the same character arriving in different countries by way of an international distribution deal? Nope. The British Dennis, drawn by David Law, was dark-haired, scowling, and known to deliberately stir up trouble; American Dennis, from the hand of Hank Ketcham, was blonde, friendly, and more likely to foul things up through good intentions turned sour. It was reported that neither artist initially was aware of the other’s work, and apparently, neither cared about any sort of copyright infringement, as both the British and American Dennis went on to long, successful runs in their respective countries.

The “Jim Twins” Led Remarkably Similar Lives

Finally, there’s the case of James Springer and James Lewis, identical twins who went their separate ways as infants through adoption yet went on to live eerily similar lives before reuniting at age 39. Each grew up with a brother named Larry, had a pet dog named Toy, went into law enforcement, and named his first-born son James Allan (with slightly different spellings). And even if you chalk some of those matches up to genetic disposition, it doesn’t quite explain how each twin somehow married a woman named Linda before following with a second wife named Betty, or how both settled on the same vacation spot at a small beach in St. Petersburg, Florida, more than 1,000 miles away from where they were separately reared in Ohio.

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Few monuments capture the public imagination quite like pyramids. These feats of engineering teach us about cultures that lived long before us — not just their art and innovations, but their everyday lives.

Just how old is the earliest pyramid? How did Egyptians start building their iconic smooth-sided pyramids? What are we still discovering within them? From the towering Great Pyramids of Giza to the complex stepped pyramids of Mesoamerica, these seven facts reveal just how mind-blowing pyramids really are.

Egyptian Pyramids Were Rarely Just Pyramids

In Egypt, these triumphs of architecture — reserved for royal tombs — were the main buildings of larger complexes. Typically, the complex also included an attached mortuary temple with shrines, an open courtyard, and chapels, staffed in perpetuity, with an offering table.

Ancient Egyptians also buried pits full of boats around these monuments to help ensure smooth sailing into the afterlife. One of the more impressive boats was uncovered in 1954 next to the Great Pyramid of Khufu — sometimes referred to as just the Great Pyramid. The 144-foot-long, 4,600-year-old ship was buried in more than 1,200 pieces stashed underneath stone blocks.

The Great Pyramids of Giza Created Whole Cities Around Them

Building pyramids as large as the Great Pyramids of Giza was a major undertaking, and required a lot of labor — especially the Great Pyramid of Khufu which, at 481 feet high, was the tallest building in the world for thousands of years. (The date of its construction is debated, but may have begun around 2550 BCE.)

Archaeologists have uncovered two “towns” around the Great Pyramids that not only housed pyramid-builders, but bakers, carpenters, weavers, stoneworkers, and others that supported day-to-day life. Some lived in family dwellings with their own courtyards and kitchens, while others, likely itinerant workers, slept in something more like a barracks. There is so much we don’t know about these areas, but one thing’s for sure: Based on animal bones and pottery found around the site, everyone there was very well-fed… and had plenty of beer to drink.

The First Known Pyramid Is 4,700 Years Old

Djoser’s Step Pyramid, built sometime between 2667 and 2648 BCE, is considered the oldest pyramid, although it doesn’t have the smooth sides we associate with Egyptian pyramids today. Previously, pharaohs had been buried underneath mastabas — structures that look like single plateaus. The Step Pyramid stacked multiple mastabas on top of one another, creating the tapered effect. It’s located ​​Saqqara, a necropolis about 15 miles south of Cairo.

Pyramids in Egypt Used to be Bright and Shiny

We picture pyramids now as immense buildings of sandy-colored stone, but when they were originally constructed, they were adorned in polished limestone. These casing stones needed to be individually cut to a specific angle and sanded until they shone. Many of these outer layers were knocked loose by an earthquake or dismantled for building other things.

Sudan Has More Than 200 Pyramids

Egypt has around 140 pyramids that we know about, but to the south, present-day Sudan has more than 200 of them.

Until the mid-20th century, many archaeologists viewed these sites as extensions of Egypt, rather than part of a unique cultural heritage. But Sudan’s pyramids, most of them located in Meroe, are much smaller and steeper, surrounded by their own collections of chapels and monuments, and are unique to Nubian culture.

For what it’s worth, Egyptian-style pyramids are all over the place, including Italy and Greece. Pyramids more broadly, however, take many different forms.

The Americas Contain More Pyramids Than the Rest of the World Combined — Including the Biggest One of All

In ancient Mesoamerica, a region spanning from much of modern-day Mexico through most of Central America, peoples such as the Inca, Aztec, Maya, and Olmec had their own style of pyramid dating back to about 1000 BCE — and they built a lot of them. Unlike Egypt, they weren’t used exclusively for tombs.

The most well-known Mesoamerican pyramids are the ones in Teotihuacan, an Aztec city near present-day Mexico City. The Pyramid of the Sun, the largest of the structures, and nearby Pyramid of the Moon were both constructed by putting rubble inside a set of retaining walls, building adobe brick around it, then casing in limestone. The Pyramid of the Sun hides an extra secret: another pyramid, accessible through a cave underneath. These pyramids were built between 1 and 200 CE, although the pyramid inside the cave is even older.

The Great Pyramid in La Venta, an ancient Olmec civilization by present-day Tabasco, Mexico, is much different: It’s essentially a mountain made of clay. Later Olmec pyramids were also earth mounds, only faced with stone in a stepped structure.

The largest pyramid on the planet by volume, not height, is the Great Pyramid of Cholula, or Tlachihualtepetl, in Mexico. It dates back to around 200 BCE, and is essentially six pyramids on top of one another. Later civilizations expanded on previous construction, taking care to preserve the original work. It’s made of adobe bricks and, whether accidentally or through a deliberate effort from the locals, eventually became covered in foliage and was later abandoned. When Spanish invaders, led by Hernan Cortez, came through, murdered 3,000 people, and destroyed more visible structures, they thought Tlachihualtepetl was part of the natural topography and let it be.

We’re Still Finding New Stuff Inside Pyramids

The Great Pyramid of Khufu, the tallest of the Great Pyramids, has been the topic of rigorous study for more than a thousand years — but we’re still finding out what’s inside, including whole new chambers. The Scan Pyramids project, a collaboration between Egyptian, French, and Japanese research institutions that started in 2015, uses updated cosmic ray technology for a noninvasive peek inside.

So far, they’ve found two previously unidentified areas: a corridor on the north face of the pyramid and a “big void” above the Grand Gallery. The void is at least 100 feet long and has a similar cross-section as the Grand Gallery, which connects various areas of the pyramid, including the burial chamber.

A team of American researchers hopes to use even more advanced technology to try to get a full three-dimensional image of the big void. Whether it’s a structural element or a whole new chamber, it could provide a wealth of information on how the pyramids were built.

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Humankind’s many attempts to organize the Earth’s movements into calendars and time zones has created some weird anomalies. There are many days throughout history that technically didn’t happen, whether because of calendar switches, strange goings-on involving the international date line, or other reasons to do with human timekeeping. The seven periods of time below feature whole days and weeks erased from history, plus one very ill-advised idea to abolish weekends. A word of advice: Don’t mess with weekends.

11 days in September 1752 Never Happened in America

The most infamous stretch of “missing” days in human history didn’t happen all at once, but instead spread around the world in stages. In October 1582, Pope Gregory XIII instituted his eponymous calendar (actually created by Italian scientist Aloysius Lilius) in Catholic countries throughout Europe. The Gregorian calendar righted some temporal wrongs introduced by the previous Julian calendar — mainly that the year was slightly longer than solar reality — and so Catholic kingdoms such as France and Spain who had followed the Julian calendar needed to skip forward 10 days, from October 5 to 14. Because Protestant England was wary of all things related to the Catholic Church (thanks to the whole Henry VIII thing), its kingdom, which eventually included the American colonies, opted out until some 170 years later. Having waited so long, England — now known as Great Britain — needed to skip 11 days to be in sync with the Gregorian calendar. That’s why in 1752, American colonists fell asleep on the night of September 2, 1752, only to wake the next day on September 14.

February 30 Has Never Happened (Except Once in Sweden)

February has always been a short month, a tradition that dates back to Roman times, which is why there’s never been a February 30 — except for once in Sweden in 1712. While the rest of Europe was slowly hopping on the Gregorian bandwagon, Sweden decided to take a different approach. Instead of lopping off a stretch of days all at once, the Swedes decided to simply ignore all the leap years between 1700 and 1740, slowly bringing their calendar in line with the Gregorian one.

Unfortunately, the plan fell apart when the kingdom skipped the leap year in 1700 but then forgot to skip the leap years in 1704 and 1708, putting Sweden out of sync with both the Gregorian and Julian calendars. After deciding to abandon the plan, Sweden went back to the Julian calendar by adding two leap days in 1712, which included both February 29 — and for the first time in history — February 30.

Sweden eventually adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1753. But have some sympathy for Sven Hall and Ellna Jeppsdotter, who were married in Ystad, Sweden, on February 30, 1712, and never celebrated the actual date of their anniversary ever again.

France Technically “Lost” 13 Years at the End of the 18th Century

One of the most radical experiments in modern calendrical history was when revolutionary France instituted the Republican calendar on October 24, 1793 — or should we say 3 Brumaire Year II. Almost every facet of the calendar was reimagined: Months were renamed, weeks were now 10-day-long décades, all months were 30 days (with five or six days added at the end of the last month), and the year was renumbered to honor the date that France became a republic (September 22, 1792). France stuck with the calendar for roughly 13 years until January 1, 1806, when Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte replaced it with the Gregorian calendar. To this day, major historical events during this time are often referenced by their Republican calendar name, such as the Coup of 18 Brumaire in Year VIII, which originally propelled Napoleon to power (on November 9, 1799).

Parts of Kiribati Never Experienced December 31, 1994

Calendars aren’t the only things that can cause days to simply vanish from the historical record — the international date line also causes its fair share of temporal disturbances. Take, for example, December 31, 1994. On this day, the Pacific island nation of Kiribati, which is composed of 33 islands, decided to move the date line to encompass its entire territory. Before this change, the Line and Phoenix Islands were technically a day behind the rest of the nation, but by bulging the date line eastward, the whole country could be on the same day. The move created the time zones UTC+13 and UTC +14, and when the change was officially implemented, the Line and Phoenix Islands completely skipped December 31, 1994. Meanwhile, in 2011, the islands of Samoa and Tokelau decided to move the date line westward to establish closer ties with New Zealand and Australia, completely erasing December 30 in the process.

For 11 years, the Soviet Union Had No Weekends

Today, conversations around extending the weekend to three days are gaining steam, but back in the Stalin-era Soviet Union, things weren’t so rosy. On September 29, 1929, Soviet workers experienced the last normal weekend for the next 11 years (“normal” for them at the time meant only Sundays off). Revolutionary zeal had led Soviet thinkers to establish the nepreryvka, or “continuous work week,” which was a five-day week with no weekends. This didn’t mean that workers labored continuously. Instead, 80% of the workforce went to their jobs while 20% took a day of rest. That way, the Soviet leaders thought, factories would never be completely idle (and it also discouraged churchgoing, which in Stalin’s eyes was a bonus).

The opposition to this change was pretty swift, with one letter published in Pravda, the official Soviet newspaper, saying, “What is there for us to do at home if our wives are in the factory, our children at school and nobody can visit us?” Although the Soviets tinkered with the system — extending the week cycle to six days, for example — they eventually abandoned the whole thing in 1940.

No Years After 2016 Have Happened in Ethiopia (Yet)

Although the world mostly marches to the beat of the Gregorian drum, there are a few holdouts. One of the most stunning examples is the Ethiopian calendar, which isn’t even in the 2020s yet. Although it’s similar to the Gregorian calendar (it’s 365 days long and contains leap years), the Ethiopian calendar has an extra month and is either seven or eight years behind the rest of the world (its new year is also in September). The reason for this annular discrepancy boils down to a disagreement as to when the annunciation of Jesus’ birth took place. Although this calendar is both the civil and ecclesiastical calendar of Ethiopia, its citizens are well aware of the Gregorian calendar and use them both interchangeably.

67 Extra Days Occurred in 46 BCE That’ve Never Happened Before or Since

Everyone knows one year is 365 days, give or take leap days, but don’t tell that to the Romans who lived through a 445-day-long year in 46 BCE. Back then, Julius Caesar decided that the old Roman calendar needed fixing. Its problems were legion: There were not enough days (only 355 of them) and it was susceptible to political maneuverings. So Caesar did away with the whole thing and instituted the Julian calendar, devised by the ancient Greek astronomer Sosigenes of Alexandria. To get the calendar off on the right foot, Romans had to suffer through what’s known as “the last year of confusion” as Caesar added 67 days to the year before the new calendar took hold on January 1, 45 BCE. To this day, the year remains the longest on record.

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Though the first professional baseball team dates to 1869, America’s favorite pastime only scratches the surface of sports history — ancient cultures from Greece to Mesoamerica held athletic competitions as far back as 3,500 years ago. While these games may no longer be played on a widespread scale, sports such as chariot racing and jousting could be considered as popular during their heyday as the NFL and NBA are today. Here are eight early sports that you may not know existed.

Chariot Racing

Dating back to at least 700 BCE, chariot racing was an athletic spectacle popular in both ancient Greek and Roman cultures. In Greece, the races were often held at arenas known as hippodromes, and in Rome, they were staged at the massive Circus Maximus, which featured a 2,000-foot-long track on which racers could reach speeds of up to 40 mph. Each chariot typically consisted of a two-wheeled cart pulled by a team of two or four horses, and the carts would make dangerous hairpin turns as they raced to the finish, which often resulted in catastrophic collisions. Chariot races were also a staple in the ancient Olympic Games and religious festivals of the time.

Naumachia (Naval Battle)

Another ancient Roman spectacle, naumachia were massive staged mock naval conflicts held in flooded amphitheaters. The competitions pitted two teams against one another and consisted of thousands of participants, both above deck and down below rowing the boats. The earliest recorded naumachia in 46 BCE was overseen by Julius Caesar, and featured the Egyptian and Tyrian fleets battling atop an artificial basin in Rome’s Campus Martius. More than 6,000 men took part in that event, though Emperor Augustus would later hold an even larger naumachia in 2 BCE that featured an additional thousand combatants. Naumachiae remained popular until around 250 CE, and even took place at the Colosseum.

Pankration

A combination of boxing and wrestling, the ancient Greek sport of pankration was introduced at the XXXIII Olympiad in 648 BCE. Simple fisticuffs (fist fights) had been a common competition (especially among Spartans) as far back as 688 BCE, but pankration also incorporated hitting, kicking, strangling, and grappling. Despite the intense physical nature of the sport, certain actions, like biting and gouging of the eyes, nose, or mouth, were explicitly forbidden. However, blows to the stomach and genital region were both permissible and encouraged to help competitors get the upper hand on their opponents. Greek mythology depicted figures such as Theseus and Hercules as some of the first participants in pankration competitions.

Mesoamerican Ballgame

The Mesoamerican ballgame is considered the world’s first ball sport, a concept which spread to Europe after the Spanish arrival in the New World. The earliest evidence of the sport dates back to around 1400 BCE, which is the estimated age of a ballcourt that has been excavated in Guatemala. The game was widespread in the Americas, and scientists have since uncovered more than 1,500 similar ballcourts. The playing surface of these courts generally formed the shape of an uppercase “I,” with a narrow aisle in the middle and end zones at both extremes. Though the exact rules of this game are unknown and different Mesoamerican cultures played many variations of the game in different periods, historians believe that many shared a common goal of directing a rubber ball through a stone ring by any means necessary, using every body part available, from elbows to knees. These games also often held symbolic significance in Mesoamerican religions.

He’e Holua (Hawaiian Lava Sledding)

Though its exact origins have been lost to time, he’e holua, or lava sledding, was practiced in Hawaii long before the arrival of Europeans in 1778. Once popular amongst the Ali’i (Hawaiian ruling class), the sport involved competitors launching themselves down groomed slides along the side of a volcano while riding atop sledges (known as papa holua). These typically measured 12 feet long and a mere six inches wide. Racers would either stand atop the board, lie face first, or kneel down, reaching speeds up to 50 mph as they attempted to travel as far as possible. The last documented version of this event in its original form is from 1825. Historians believe that the sport was a way to honor Pele, the Hawaiian goddess of fire and volcanoes.

Purépecha Ball

Similar in many ways to field hockey, this Indigenous Mexican sport has one notable difference — the puck is on fire. The sport’s origins date back to pre-Hispanic times as far as 1500 BCE and its name, pelota purépecha, comes from the Purépecha peoples of the northwestern region of Michoacán. Murals located at the Palacio de Tepantitla in Teotihuacan, an archaeological complex northeast of Mexico City, depict the sport. The rules involve two teams of five or more players passing a flaming ball to each other with sticks similar to hockey sticks, with the goal of reaching the end zone. One notable benefit of lighting the ball ablaze is that it allowed the sport to be played at night. Though several amateur leagues in certain regions of Mexico have attempted to revitalize the sport, it has largely been lost to history.

Jousting

Though staged jousts remain a common sight at Renaissance fairs today, jousting was a legitimate sport in medieval times, when tournaments were staged for knights to display their combat skills from around the 13th to 16th centuries. Opposing knights were separated by a middle barrier (often called a tilt) and would ride on horseback towards one another decked out in heavy armor with their wooden lances extended. Whoever knocked his opponent off the horse would win, though the lance would often shatter upon impact. While competitive jousting began to wane in popularity by the 17th century, the sport continued in the form of a ring-tilt — an accuracy contest featuring knights using their lances to capture suspended rings.

Pedestrianism

Though far more recent than other sports on this list, pedestrianism — a form of competitive walking — gained widespread popularity in the United States as more people moved into cities after the Civil War. Filling an entertainment void for residents of these rapidly growing cities, the sport was simple yet captivating: Participants would compete in six-day-long walking competitions in arenas, walking several hundred miles over the course of competition. The events often featured intense wagering, live bands, and food vendors, and many professional pedestrians employed their own unique strides. A man named Edward Weston was renowned for his signature wobble, and another named Daniel O’Leary would pump his arms furiously while clutching corn cobs in each hand to absorb his sweat. It became such a spectacle that on September 21, 1879, 13 professional walkers gathered at Madison Square Garden in New York City to compete in front of 10,000 fans.

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Pushed into marriage as a teenager to cement political ties, the late-18th-century French queen Marie Antoinette had a tumultuous reign, to say the least. But although there was no stopping the momentum that led to her end at the guillotine, the records of her life and deeds allow us to look at her complicated legacy with kinder eyes. Here are nine facts, along with a few dispelled myths, about the life of this glamorous but misunderstood monarch.

The Future French Queen Had to Cram for Her Wedding

Born in 1755 to Holy Roman Emperor Francis I and Empress Maria Theresa, the archduchess was the 15th of 16 children and enjoyed a carefree childhood due to the lax oversight of her governess. However, her leisurely lifestyle came to an end with the arrangement (at age 13) of her marriage to the Dauphin of France, and with it the discovery that she was barely literate. The French court promptly provided tutor Abbé de Vermond, who sent back reports of his pupil’s short attention span and painfully slow handwriting. Ultimately, the cram sessions helped Marie Antoinette gain a command of French language and history, while the efforts of a Parisian ballet teacher ensured that the up-to-speed archduchess could properly comport herself with the grace of a queen.

Marie Antoinette Was a Fashion Icon

Of all the outrageous accusations attached to Marie Antoinette, the one with the most truth concerns her exorbitant spending on gowns and accessories. She often blew past her annual clothing budget of 120,000 livres — nearly $4 million in 2024 dollars — and reportedly purchased up to 300 new dresses per year. But it was her devotion to appearances, guided by the deft hand of her “Minister of Fashion” Rose Bertin, that made the queen a trendsetter in her time. Along with donning ornate outfits like her diamond-encrusted wedding dress, Marie Antoinette pushed the envelope by carrying a towering pouf hairdo. Even when she stoked outrage by dressing down in a chemise-style muslin gown for an official portrait, this particular mode of dress quickly picked up in popularity across the rest of Europe.

It’s Unlikely She Ever Said “Let Them Eat Cake”

While we don’t know everything the queen uttered in her private chambers, historians are skeptical she delivered the infamous comment that supposedly signified her indifference to the suffering of her subjects. After all, for all the profligate spending of her early reign, she was also known for giving generously to charities and for the compassion she displayed to people injured in her presence. Furthermore, versions of “Let them eat cake” had previously been attributed to other European royals, including the 17th-century French queen consort Marie-Thérèse. One of the first printed references to the snide remark appeared in philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau’s Confessions, which was published when Marie Antoinette was still a relatively unknown archduchess of Austria.

Marie Antoinette Was a Talented Musician

While a young Marie Antoinette found it hard to focus on traditional academic subjects, it was a different story when it came to her musical tutelage. Receiving lessons in instruments including the harp, harpsichord, and the glass armonica, she eventually developed the ability to sight-read musical notation at a professional level. As queen, Marie Antoinette enjoyed singing while playing her beloved harp, and was known to accompany performers such as Chevalier de Saint-Georges on the forte-piano. Not content with merely dusting off her talents every now and then, she also revived a royal musical program and heartily supported her favored conductors, ensuring that those in her orbit were also heavily exposed to her musical passions.

She Gave Birth to Her First Child in Front of a Huge Crowd

While it was common at the time for French queens to give birth before an audience of royals, the eight-year wait between the Louis XVI-Marie Antoinette union and the announcement of her first pregnancy had whipped their subjects into a frenzy of expectation. The result was a crush of onlookers descending on the Palace of Versailles when she finally went into labor in December 1778, with several uninvited guests breaking into her room and scaling the furniture to get a better view. All told, a reported 200 visitors witnessed the delivery of princess Marie-Therese, and the overflowing excitement of the crowd combined with the stress of the delivery caused the new mother to pass out.

The Queen Cherished the Privacy of a Neighboring Palace

A Greek-style structure built near the Palace of Versailles for one of Louis XV’s mistresses, the Petit Trianon was gifted to Marie Antoinette following her ascension to the throne. It became a safe haven for the queen to enjoy her private time away from the prying eyes of the royal court, and to that end she had window paneling, lighting, and decorations redone to her tastes. On the grounds, she oversaw the installation of a theater and the “Hameau de la Reine,” a picturesque village with a windmill and a working farm. While it’s oft been repeated that Marie Antoinette and her friends galavanted around the farm dressed as peasants, this seems to be another unfortunate rumor designed to tarnish her reputation.

She Was Scandalized by the “Affair of the Diamond Necklace”

In the mid-1780s, the conniving Countess de La Motte approached the Cardinal de Rohan with a request to buy an expensive diamond necklace on behalf of the queen. Having run afoul of her highness’s good graces, the cardinal eagerly agreed to the task and arranged a payment plan with the jewelers. However, Marie Antoinette was unaware of any of this, and the hoax came to light when the jewelers sought the rest of the money owed by their surprised royal client. The countess was arrested, flogged, and imprisoned, but the “Affair of the Diamond Necklace” also tainted the queen as yet another example of the obscene wealth that passed through her grasp while commoners were starving.

Marie Antoinette Likely Was Involved in an Affair With a Swedish Count

The subject of all sorts of salacious gossip and vulgar depictions, Marie Antoinette supposedly slept with court officers and even family members to satisfy her wild sexual cravings. The allegations were largely false, of course, yet evidence suggests she had an extramarital relationship with Swedish count Axel Fersen. A Swedish ambassador once observed that the queen could barely conceal her feelings for Fersen in public, and the count was known to stay at the Petit Trianon — without the king around — when visiting the country. While Fersen destroyed much of their correspondence and redacted the content of surviving letters, the recent application of X-ray technology on the hidden sections revealed some intimate language between the two.

The Imprisoned Queen Nearly Escaped Execution By Way of the “Carnation Plot”

While imprisoned at the Conciergerie in Paris in August 1793, Marie Antoinette was visited by the royalist Chevalier of Rougeville. Although accounts of the story vary, Rougeville was said to have dropped a carnation concealing a brief note about a plan to squire her to safety. A few days later, he arrived to escort the queen off the premises; however, although the guards had been bribed, one of them reneged on the deal and refused to cooperate. The so-called “Carnation Plot” led to a string of arrests and heightened security, and hastened the arrival of the show trial that condemned the queen to execution a few weeks later.

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The wife of the 16th and perhaps most consequential President in U.S. history, Mary Todd Lincoln left behind an intriguing legacy in her own right. Often remembered as a troubled foil to her saintly husband, she was of course a far more complex person than the shrewish caricature she was often reduced to, especially when considering the enormous losses she suffered in her lifetime. Read on to learn seven facts about this outspoken and misunderstood First Lady.

Mary Todd Was Well Educated for a Woman of Her Time

Mary was one of 16 children born to Kentucky businessman and politician Robert Smith Todd, who possessed the financial means and progressive mindset to make sure his daughters were academically engaged. She subsequently studied a wide range of subjects over five years at Shelby Female Academy, before spending another four years perfecting her French at the Mentelle’s for Young Ladies boarding academy. Her schooling, combined with exposure to influential family friends such as Senator Henry Clay, ensured that Mary was well versed in both classical subjects and contemporary issues.

Stephen Douglas Asked for Mary’s Hand in Marriage

While Abraham Lincoln and Stephen Douglas famously sparred in a series of debates for a U.S. Senate seat in 1858, they also competed for the affections of the same fiery Kentucky woman some 20 years earlier. After moving to Springfield, Illinois, in the late 1830s, Mary drew the attention of promising suitors like Douglas, then a rising lawyer and politician. However, the ambition and charisma of the “Little Giant” wasn’t enough to win her over; when Douglas asked for her hand in marriage, she reportedly replied, “I can’t consent to be your wife. I shall become Mrs. President, or I am the victim of false prophets, but it will not be as Mrs. Douglas.”

Mary Formed a Strong Political Partnership With Her Husband …

Historians have often mused over what drew Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln to matrimony in November 1842 — she was short, tempestuous, and sophisticated; he was towering, shy, and dirt-poor — but their seemingly contradicting attributes masked a strong partnership. Politically, they saw eye-to-eye with their roots in the Whig Party, and he valued her intelligence and judgment of character. Furthermore, Mary’s refinement proved an asset on the 1860 presidential campaign trail, helping to convince journalists that the little-known Republican was a serious candidate. Her invaluable contributions to the campaign prompted Lincoln, upon learning of his victory, to exclaim to his wife: “Mary, Mary, we are elected!”

… But She Was an Unpopular First Lady

Any public benefits Mary provided for Lincoln during his candidacy quickly evaporated by the time she settled into her role as First Lady. She was criticized for burning through the allocated congressional funding for White House renovation during one extended shopping trip, and again for hosting parties during a solemn time of war. Mary also butted heads with White House staffers — Lincoln’s secretary John Hay called her a “hellcat” — and did herself no favors with the occasional public tantrum. Although she also visited wounded soldiers and contributed to a fund for runaway enslaved people, such deeds were usually eclipsed by the waves of negative publicity.

Mary Todd Lincoln Was Close Friends With a Formerly Enslaved Woman Turned Dressmaker

Born into slavery in Virginia, Elizabeth Keckley (also spelled Keckly) used her sewing talents to become a dressmaker to some of the most powerful women in the nation’s capital, including the incoming First Lady in 1861. Their relationship quickly progressed from professional to personal, with one observer describing the seamstress as “the only person in Washington who could get along with Mrs. Lincoln.” The widow pleaded with Keckley to move with her to Chicago after leaving the White House, and she later enlisted her confidant’s help in an ill-fated attempt to sell off personal possessions. However, their relationship came to an end after Keckley revealed too many private details in her 1868 memoir, Behind the Scenes: Or, Thirty Years a Slave, and Four Years in the White House.

Mary Todd Lincoln Was Committed to a Mental Institution by Her Surviving Son

As a mother who’d lost three sons to various diseases — and her husband to an assassin — Mary was understandably troubled after she had a premonition of misfortune befalling her lone surviving son, Robert, fueling a confrontation between the two in 1875. Agitated by years of Mary’s increasingly erratic behavior, Robert took her to court for insanity proceedings, and personally testified to her “unsound mind” to get her committed to Bellevue Place Sanitarium in Batavia, Illinois. Whatever distress she was enduring at the time, Mary was shrewd enough to behave under close watch while smuggling letters to influential allies, who managed to secure her release to her eldest sister’s care after a few months.

Mary Todd Lincoln May Have Suffered From a Vitamin B12 Deficiency

Mary’s list of physical and mental issues has long been a source of fascination for armchair psychologists and real-life physicians. Some have posthumously diagnosed her with illnesses ranging from Lyme disease to diabetes, but in 2016, one doctor put forth an intriguing theory that she may have suffered from a condition called pernicious anemia. Often brought about by the body’s inability to absorb vitamin B12, pernicious anemia can lead to such symptoms as headaches, fever, swelling, mouth soreness, and shortness of breath — all of which were experienced by the First Lady. Had she enjoyed access to the B12 shots that became available after WWII, she may have had a somewhat easier time in her later years and been remembered differently by history.

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Idioms are short phrases that often make no literal sense but are nonetheless usually understood by the native speakers of a language. They can be quirky, playful, and sometimes even strange, but the most charming thing about them is their specificity of culture — like an inside joke shared by millions. Someone still learning English might be baffled to hear that they’d been “let off the hook,” though almost anyone raised in an English-speaking community would understand the meaning.

Over time, the original context of the phrase is usually lost, but the words find new meaning in their idiomatic form. Take, for instance, being let off the hook. Dating back to the 18th century, the phrase evokes the image of a worm on the end of a fishing line. If it can wiggle itself off the hook, it can avoid being eaten by a fish. Likewise, a child caught stealing a cookie might beg and plead themselves out of being reprimanded, thereby getting themselves off the hook. Here are the little-known origin stories behind eight other common English idioms.

“Wear Your Heart on Your Sleeve”

To wear your heart on your sleeve is to be honest and open about your feelings. The phrase is generally believed to have originated in the Middle Ages. It was the custom then for jousting knights to wear some sort of insignia on their arm that indicated the ladies for whom they were hoping to triumph, thus proclaiming their love to the world.    

“Pardon My French”

In England, in the early 1800s, people would “beg pardon” for using French words in conversation. Forgiveness was requested in these instances because most people did not speak French, and furthermore, the Napoleonic Wars had left a residue of animosity between the two countries. By the mid-1800s the phrase had evolved to refer to swear words specifically. It’s worth noting that the Cambridge dictionary defines the idiom as something to be said when pretending to be sorry for offensive language.

“The Best Thing Since Sliced Bread”

In 1928, when inventor Otto Frederick Rohwedder of Davenport, Iowa, first released his bread loaf-slicing invention, the advertisement claimed it was “the greatest forward step in the baking industry since bread was wrapped.” Riffing on the theme, customers began to compare all later inventions to his, and the modern idiom evolved from there.  

“With Flying Colors”

This idiom dates back to the Age of Exploration, the period when European explorers first set off across the seas. If a captain had been successful in his venture, he would order the crew to fly their country’s flag (or “colors”) to announce their victory before arriving back at the home port. Originally, the phrase “with flying colors” simply meant that a mission had been completed without disaster, but over the centuries the idiom came to signify great success.

“Apple of My Eye”

To be the apple of someone’s eye is to be their most adored companion, but what exactly is an eye apple? This idiom is one of the oldest in the English language, traced back to the ninth century. Back then, it was assumed that the pupil of the eye was a round, solid object, and it was often compared to an apple, as apples were a commonly known round object. The delicate nature of sight (and its tendency to fade with age) made vision precious and over the years the phrase “apple of my eye” came to be used in reference to anything or anyone a person held dear.  

“Head Over Heels”

If one stops to think about it, being “head over heels” is actually how most humans spend their days. So how did this common, everyday state of being come to signify romance? In the 1300s, the phrase “head over heels” was used more literally to describe someone tumbling through a handstand or cartwheel, but by the 1800s writers had begun to use the phrase idiomatically to describe someone who had fallen hopelessly in love.  

“Buttering Up”

To butter someone up is to beguile them, or to lavish them with praise to get what you want. The idiom evolved from the very literal buttering that takes place as part of the Hindu tradition of throwing balls of clarified butter (called ghee) at the statues of deities. In exchange for the offering, it was thought that buttered-up gods would reward the faithful with a good harvest.  

“Cutting the Mustard”

There is much speculation regarding the origin of this idiom, but the most reputable sources trace its usage from the late 1600s when the phrase “keen as mustard” was used to describe someone of high standards. Combined with “cutting,” which is often used in place of “exhibiting” (think: cutting a fine figure), and you get the modern, idiomatic equivalent of “exhibiting high standards.”

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Ideally, history is the true story of humanity’s past. But sometimes fictions slip in, either big or small, and stay fixed in the narrative with a stubborn persistence. Some of these fictions are relatively harmless, while others have become the engine of major movements or seriously distorted people’s lives. These are the stories of six of the most prominent myths in history, and why it’s time to debunk them once and for all.

Napoleon Wasn’t That Short

You’ve probably heard the phrase “Napoleon complex,” which refers to the idea that small creatures — whether people or Pomeranians — often act as if they’re much bigger than they really are, supposedly in an attempt to overcompensate for their lack of stature. Of course, it’s also a reference to Napoleon Bonaparte, the early 19th-century French emperor who wreaked havoc on the European continent for nearly two decades. Yet French sources say Napoleon probably stood at about 5 feet, 5 inches. While that might seem somewhat short by today’s standards, it was only an inch shorter than the average height of a Frenchman at the time. It’s possible he even stood an inch or two taller than this estimate.

So why does history remember Napoleon as such a tiny tyrant? Turns out, it’s actually an enduring piece of British propaganda. In 1803, British political cartoonist James Gillray — arguably the most influential caricaturist of his time — introduced the character “Little Boney,” which portrayed Bonaparte as both diminutive and juvenile. In his cartoons, Napoleon was often seen throwing tantrums while stomping around in oversized boots, military garb, and bicorne hats. The image stuck, and the sight of a raging, pint-sized Napoleon echoed through history. Before his death in 1821, the twice-exiled Napoleon even admitted that Gillray “did more than all the armies of Europe to bring me down.”

People Have Known the World Was Round for 2,500 Years

“In 1492, Columbus sailed the ocean blue” in an effort to prove to European naysayers that the world was round, right? Not at all. In fact, Italian explorer Cristoforo Colombo (his real name), his European contemporaries, and basically all educated humans dating back to the ancient Greeks knew the Earth was a sphere. Famous mathematician Pythagoras of Samos (of a2 + b2 = c2 fame) figured out as much around 500 BCE, and 260 years later, another Greek mathematician named Eratosthenes accurately measured the Earth’s circumference. But defying the status quo and risking a deathly plunge into the vacuum of space certainly adds some dramatic tension, which is probably why Washington Irving invented this fictional flourish for his 1828 biography The Life and Voyages of Christopher Columbus. Although he was known for his inventive works of fiction, such as Rip Van Winkle and The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, Irving’s creative history of Colombo became one of the most persistent myths of the Age of Exploration.

Marie Antoinette Never Said “Let Them Eat Cake”

During the French Revolution in the late 18th century, royals and nobles didn’t fare very well — perhaps least of all Queen Marie Antoinette. Married to the last ruler of the ancien régime, King Louis XVI, at the age of 14, Antoinette was seen as an Austrian outsider (her dad was Holy Roman Emperor Francis I) and was often the recipient of France’s ill will. Although the aristocracy was certainly divorced from the harsh realities of the French peasantry, Antoinette was both intelligent and giving, often donating to charitable causes. This didn’t save her from being frequently implicated in various scandals (including a famous one involving a pricey diamond necklace), despite being generally innocent of the charges.

But the most damaging accusation when it comes to Antoinette’s historical reputation is her alleged cold reaction to the plight of the starving French peasantry when she supposedly uttered the phrase “Let them eat cake.” Yet Antoinette didn’t do it. For one thing, the actual French quote — “qu’ils mangent de la brioche” — doesn’t mention cake at all, but instead brioche, a type of sweet bread. Semantics aside, folklore scholars for nearly two centuries have traced the famous phrase to other sources and regions from long before Antoinette was even born. A 16th-century German tale, for example, features a noble woman wondering why peasants didn’t instead eat krosem, also a kind of sweet bread. In 1843, French writer Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr found the same sentence in a book dated 1760 (when the Austrian princess would have been only 5 years old). Even the 2006 film Marie Antoinette (starring Kirsten Dunst in the eponymous role) mentions that the French queen never said the words. Yet despite nearly two centuries of debunking, the myth remains.

The “Wild West” Wasn’t That Wild

The famous gunfight at the O.K. Corral in 1881, pitting the lawmen Virgil and Wyatt Earp against outlaws known as the “Cowboys,” is often seen as an emblem of the Wild West. Although depicted in many Hollywood films as evidence of the rampant lawlessness of the West, the real gunfight lasted only 30 seconds, killed three people, and didn’t happen at the O.K. Corral but in a vacant lot down the street. Overall, the episode was a relatively minor one in the history of western North America, but it’s a moment that has become almost legendary in the romanticization of the Wild West, a period of American history stretching from about 1850 until 1900.

Although areas where people struck gold saw a relatively significant uptick in crime, most of the supposedly “wild” West was tamer than you may imagine. Economists, historians, and authors argue that for the most part settlers understood the importance of solving matters civilly, and some towns even passed gun control measures. Although Native Americans suffered egregious injustices during this period, the idea that they massacred white settlers in large numbers has also been exaggerated, and many were actually tolerant of wagon trains headed west.

Another of the most famous tropes associated with the Wild West is also a fabrication, or at least an exaggeration. Many cowboys preferred bowler hats or other lower-crowned hats; what we think of as a cowboy hat didn’t become popular until around the end of the 19th century. (The name “10-gallon hat” didn’t arrive until the 1920s.) Even the ubiquitous saloon-style doors were mostly a myth, as nearly all watering holes in the West had normal doors to keep out chilly winds.

There Were Actually 12 U.S. Colonies (Until 1776)

Thirteen stripes on the U.S. flag mean 13 colonies originally rebelled against British rule in 1775, right? Strangely, this too is also a myth of sorts. While it’s true that the former British colonies did begin the American Revolution in earnest in 1775 with the Battles of Lexington and Concord, there were technically only 12 colonies at the time. Although it had its own legislative assembly since 1704, the little stretch of coast known today as Delaware was then a part of the Pennsylvania Colony. Delaware didn’t declare its independence until June 15, 1776 — just in time to send delegates to the Second Continental Congress to vote on the Declaration of Independence less than a month later. Although Delaware was the last colony to fully form in America’s colonial period, it certainly wasted no time ushering in the new era, as the state was the very first to ratify the U.S. Constitution on December 7, 1787, technically making it the first U.S. state in the union.

Thomas Edison Didn’t Invent the Lightbulb

Thomas Edison has plenty of world-changing inventions to his name, such as the phonograph and the kinetograph, but history largely remembers his genius in the shape of the lightbulb. Edison can certainly be thanked for perfecting the lightbulb and making electric light economically feasible, but he’s far from the technology’s inventor. Although many could claim credit for the lightbulb’s invention, one of the earliest examples of a lightbulb comes from an English scientist named Ebenezer Kinnersley, who in 1761 — some 86 years before Edison was born — described getting a wire so “red hot” that it gave off light. Kinnersley was describing a process known as incandescence, where electrical resistance actually causes a material to glow. This idea forms the scientific foundation of the incandescent bulb, and many inventors before Edison, including Frederick de Moleyns and Joseph Swan, successfully created incandescent bulbs and lamps. However, in the end it was Edison who by 1880 devised a bulb that lasted some 1,200 hours thanks to its carbonized bamboo filament. Suddenly, lightbulbs transformed from an expensive oddity to the way of the future.

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Whether in mathematics, anatomy, engineering, botany, cartography, or architecture, the 15th-century Florentine polymath Leonardo da Vinci had no equal. Oh, and he also found time to be one of the greatest artists who ever lived. Because his genius stretched into so many disciplines — and thousands of pages of his notes and sketches have survived the centuries — Leonardo remains one of history’s most well-known, yet still enigmatic, figures. Scientists and physicians still wonder how his brilliant mind worked, while engineers and designers marvel at (and in some cases construct) his many contraptions and inventions. These six facts explore the incredible life of the original Renaissance man.

“Da Vinci” Isn’t Leonardo’s Last Name

“Leonardo da Vinci” (pronounced starting with a “LAY”) is one of the most famous names in history — but it isn’t really the polymath’s name. Born in 1452 in Vinci, near the Italian city of Florence, Leonardo was the illegitimate son of wealthy notary Ser Piero da Vinci and a peasant woman named Catalina. Ser Piero acknowledged Leonardo as his son, and the nascent genius became known as Leonardo di ser Piero, meaning “son of Piero” (surnames were a relatively new phenomenon in Italy at the time and mostly reserved for the upper class). Because he had been born out of wedlock, Leonardo was — thankfully for us — given freedom to explore his intellectual pursuits, rather than be trained as a notary like his father, as was family custom at the time.

When Leonardo became an apprentice in his teenage years, he tacked on the moniker “da Vinci,” or “from Vinci,” to distinguish himself from the plethora of Leonardos in Florence and throughout Tuscany. That’s why, when referring to the famous figure, it’s more accurate to call him simply “Leonardo” rather than “da Vinci.” Who wants to tell Dan Brown the bad news?

Leonardo Designed the First Helicopter (and the First Tank)

Leonardo’s artistic legacy adorns the walls of museums (and one convent) around the world, and his works are visited by millions every year, but the famous Florentine’s scientific genius is also found in some 7,000 surviving pages of notes — each one detailing his thoughts on far-reaching ideas and concepts. One idea, known as the aerial screw, is considered to be the very first design of a vertical take-off and landing aircraft, also known as a helicopter. Another famous invention, Leonardo’s fighting vehicle, is essentially a 15th-century armored tank; it’d be nearly a half millennia before anything like these metal machines marched across European battlefields.

Leonardo’s surviving notebooks also contain various flying machines called ornithopters, history’s first conception of a parachute, and advanced ideas in zoology, mathematics, hydrology, anatomy, and geology. For example, almost four centuries before Charles Darwin, Leonardo theorized through the study of rocks and fossils that the Earth must be much older than the Bible had described. Without these notebooks, Leonardo might be remembered as a very good, even great (but not terribly prolific) Renaissance painter, but these yellowing pages reveal an astonishing mind working out mysteries that wouldn’t be solved for centuries.

He Created a Satellite Map… in 1502

Leonardo was a man ahead of his time, and nowhere is that more clear than in his “satellite” map of the Italian city of Imola. In August 1502, at the age of 50, Leonardo became general architect and engineer to Cesare Borgia, the son of Pope Alexander VI and a very wealthy individual. One of Leonardo’s chief missions was to survey Imola, a city near Bologna, in an effort to improve its fortifications. Unlike other maps of the time that were drawn from angled perspectives, filled with mythological or religious references, and/or more concerned with a town’s architectural beauty than cartographic accuracy, Leonardo’s map of Imola looks more at home on Google Maps than in a 16th-century atlas.

That’s because Leonardo created an ichnographic map, an idea first explored by the Roman architect Vitruvius (yes, that Vitruvius) in the first century BCE. It’s what we’d call a satellite map today, because the perspective of the map hovers directly above the city. Of course, Leonardo da Vinci didn’t have a satellite, so instead he likely paced the town by foot (perhaps using proto-odometer), using other tools such as a bussola (a tool that measures degrees inside a circle) to measure the degree of angles at every turn, and took bearings from the tower of the Palazzo Comunale. The result is an astonishingly accurate map, one that a 21st-century tourist could still use to navigate parts of Imola today.

He Was a Notorious Procrastinator

Leonardo da Vinci is the original “Renaissance man,” but his interest in, well, nearly everything also came with one big downside — he was a bit of a procrastinator. Compared to his artistic contemporaries, Leonardo didn’t produce nearly as many paintings, with only 20 or so — many of them still uncompleted — still around today. Instead, Leonardo was often distracted, and frequently caught doodling in his now-famous notebooks. Although Leonardo’s life is filled with remarkable accomplishments, it’s also littered with half-realized projects and unfinished masterpieces. One famous example is “The Virgin of the Rocks,” a painting that originally had a seven-month deadline, but took Leonardo 25 years to complete. Other works, such as the Sforza Horse — intended to be one of the world’s largest cast bronze statues — never saw the light of day despite years of work and planning.

His chronic perfectionism didn’t help, and Leonardo himself even lamented his lifelong inattention. According to his biographer and art historian Giorgio Vasari, Leonardo allegedly mentioned around the time of his death in 1519 “that he had offended God and mankind in not having worked at his art as he should have done.” Today, modern diagnoses of Leonardo’s behavior suggest he might have lived with attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder, or ADHD. Modern biographer Walter Isaacson argues that such a diagnosis could partly explain the creative engine behind Leonardo’s eclectic genius.

The “Mona Lisa” Remains Unfinished

The most well-known painting in the world is Leonardo da Vinci’s “Mona Lisa.” Around 10 million people glimpse the beguiling smile of Madam Lisa del Giocondo every year, but few of them likely know that the painting is actually unfinished. Although Leonardo began working on the painting in 1503, evidence suggests he was still refining the portrait around the year 1516. However, an illness in 1517 (possibly a stroke) caused semi-paralysis on the right side of his body, including his hand. Although he wrote with his left hand, Leonardo painted with his right, and this affliction likely caused the “Mona Lisa” to be left unfinished — at least in the artist’s eyes.

Keen-eyed art enthusiasts might point to the subject’s lack of eyebrows as evidence of the masterwork’s incomplete status, but some experts now believe the painting originally featured eyebrows and eyelashes that have been lost over time due to poor restoration.

Leonardo da Vinci Had an Intense Rivalry With Michelangelo

When it comes to Renaissance art, no two names are bigger than Leonardo and Michelangelo. Although considered two different generations of artists, Leonardo being Michelangelo’s senior by about 23 years, the duo had an intense rivalry reflected in both their art styles and general philosophy. Michelangelo’s hard lines, as seen in the Sistine Chapel, speak to his sculptural mindset, whereas Leonardo’s softer lines (also known as sfumato) and symmetrical composition attempted to capture nature in its mathematical beauty. However, their feud was also personal: One famous story recounts how Michelangelo gave Leonardo a dressing down in public by shaming him for the incomplete Sforza Horse. Returning the favor, Leonardo was the only artist to object to the full-frontal nudity of Michelangelo’s David. Considering Leonardo had an entire section in his notebook dedicated to the male member, it’s unlikely he was actually offended, but his argument won out, and David’s privates were covered with a garland of leaves serving as a loincloth.