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Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator is one of the most misunderstood figures in history. A direct descendant of Ptolemy I Soter, a general and commander in Alexander the Great’s legendary army, Cleopatra is famously known for being the last pharaoh of Egypt and the paramour of Roman generals Julius Caesar and Mark Antony. But Cleopatra’s story is much more complex than the “world’s most beautiful woman” moniker (a statement that’s likely untrue in the first place). These 12 facts explore the life of the woman behind the famous name, and reveal a much more complicated portrait than history — or Hollywood — portrays.

Cleopatra Isn’t Egyptian

Although she ruled Egypt as pharaoh from 51 BCE to 30 BCE, Cleopatra wasn’t of Egyptian descent. She was instead Greek, specifically Macedonian. Cleopatra was the last of a line of rulers of the Ptolemaic Kingdom, a dynasty founded by her distant ancestor Ptolemy I Soter. While the kings of this dynasty often fashioned their names after its originator, Ptolemaic queens preferred names such as Arsinoë, Berenice, and of course, Cleopatra (hence the “VII”).

Although Cleopatra wasn’t ethnically Egyptian, she does hold the honorable distinction of being the only Ptolemaic ruler who could actually speak the Egyptian language — along with half a dozen or so other languages.

Cleopatra Was a Popular Ruler

Historians have had difficulty accessing the legacy of a woman who, while singularly powerful during the ascent of the Roman Empire, has no surviving written words and scant contemporary accounts. From what experts and biographers can piece together, however, she was popular among the Egyptian people. Her fluency in Egyptian certainly helped, and she used her patriotism to earn her people’s affection. Cleopatra was known to commission portraits of herself in the classic Egyptian (or pharaonic) style, and in one surviving papyrus, dated 35 BCE, she is referred to as Philopatris, or “she who loves her country.” Plus, she garnered respect with her achievements: She reformed the monetary system, traded with Eastern nations including Arabia (which made Egypt wealthy), and also allied with Roman factions to prevent Egypt from becoming a de facto possession of an expanding empire.

Cleopatra Was a Victim of Roman Propaganda

Cleopatra’s legacy is so complicated because it tangles with historical biases against strong, female rulers and the propaganda of the early Roman Empire. Today, most people know Cleopatra as a seductress, one who had romances with two of the most powerful Roman leaders in the first century BCE, and who used her sex appeal to manipulate geopolitics in her favor. However, the source of many of these colorful tales is Octavian’s (later Caesar Augustus’) propaganda machine; he launched the equivalent of a fake news campaign to discredit the foreign queen and his rival Mark Antony. When Octavian proved victorious against Antony and Cleopatra at the Battle of Actium in 31 BCE, the victors became the authors of history, and it has taken millennia for scholars to learn more about the real life of this fascinating final pharaoh.

Cleopatra Was in Rome When Julius Caesar Was Assassinated

Most of the drama during the infamous “Ides of March” in 44 BCE took place at the Theater of Pompey, where Julius Caesar — an emperor in all but name — was stabbed 23 times by Roman senators. But an untold side of the tale is that Cleopatra was in the city when Caesar was assassinated. Two years earlier, Caesar brought Cleopatra to Rome, along with their son Caesarion, and the foreign queen’s presence in the capital was a sensation, especially when Caesar erected a statue of her in the temple of Venus Genetrix. While some Romans were suspicious of Cleopatra, she became a style icon for Roman women, many of whom adopted her pearl jewelry and hairdo. Although Cleopatra remained in Rome initially in an effort to solidify her son as Caesar’s legitimate heir, the swift arrival of Octavian complicated matters and she soon decamped for Egypt.

She Likely Didn’t Commit Suicide by Snake

The traditional story of Cleopatra’s demise is as follows: Upon seeing her inevitable end as Octavian approached Alexandria, Cleopatra purposefully let a venomous asp — likely the Egyptian cobra (Naja haje) — bite her breast. Although this dramatic episode is undoubtedly history’s most famous suicide by snake, historians have a tough time squaring this made-for-Hollywood account with some biological realities.

For one thing, the cobra is said to have been smuggled inside a fig basket, but Egyptologists and snake experts say a much larger serpent would have been needed to kill Cleopatra (along with her two handmaidens). Cobra attacks are also “dry bites” 90% of the time, meaning they rarely deliver deadly venom. Some historians believe that Cleopatra probably died by poison instead, likely hemlock mixed with wolfsbane and opium.

1963’s “Cleopatra” Is One of the Most Expensive Hollywood Films of All Time

The life of Cleopatra (or rather Rome’s colorful version of it) has inspired works of art for centuries — not the least of which was William Shakespeare’s tragedy Antony and Cleopatra, written around 1606. However, the most grandiose retelling of Cleopatra’s life, and one that had a profound impact on her legacy, is the 1963 film Cleopatra. Starring Elizabeth Taylor in the titular role (and also continuing the “beautiful seductress” trope), the film was originally budgeted at $2 million, but costs ballooned to an unprecedented (at the time) $44 million — about $430 million today. Although it was the biggest hit in theaters that year, the outsized cost of the film still made it a financial disaster for Twentieth Century Fox. The film’s failure also put to the sword any other future historical epics on a similar scale.

Cleopatra Lived Chronologically Closer to Us Than to Construction of the Great Pyramids

The civilization of ancient Egypt lasted for about 3,000 years — and the great pyramids and Cleopatra were on opposite ends of the empire. Egypt’s first pharaoh, Menes, formed the first dynasty around 3100 BCE. The Tomb of Khufu, the largest of the three Great Pyramids of Giza, was built around 2500 BCE. The smaller ones were built within the next century. Cleopatra’s reign started in 51 BCE, putting around 2,400 years between the three pyramids and her — and fewer than 2,100 years between Cleopatra and us.

She Styled Herself After the Goddess Isis

In ancient Egypt, pharaohs were associated with the divine. Cleopatra identified with Isis, a major goddess whose wide-ranging powers dealt with magic, healing, and death. She wasn’t the first Cleopatra to gravitate toward Isis — Cleopatra III was also associated with her — so she was sometimes called “New Isis.” Mark Antony was associated with the Roman god Dionysus, and as the couple grew more public with their relationship, they ceremoniously stepped into the roles of the Egyptian pair Isis and Osiris and, in Rome, Dionysus and Venus.

She Married Her Brothers

It was very common for Ptolemaic royalty to in-marry — and while Cleopatra gained more notoriety for her romantic relationships outside the family, she did, at least ceremonially, marry two of her brothers. Many Ptolemaic people were born to brother-sister parents, but since Cleopatra didn’t have any known children with either of them, it’s possible the pairings were entirely political.

Upon taking the throne, she likely married her brother Ptolemy XIII, who was just 10 years old at the time, and ruled with him as co-regent. After Ptolemy XIII died in the Alexandrian War in 47 BCE (part of a power struggle between him and Cleopatra), Cleopatra married her brother Ptolemy XIV. He died just a few years later when he and his sister returned to Egypt from Rome following the death of Julius Caesar in 44 BCE, and may have been killed on Cleopatra’s order to make room for her next co-ruler: her son.

She Ruled Alongside Her Toddler Son

Cleopatra’s third and final male co-ruler, at least officially, was Ptolemy XV Caesar, better known as Caesarion, her son with Julius Caesar. Some writers during the era raised questions about the child’s paternity, but Caesar publicly claimed Caesarion as his own. The child was born in 47 BCE, just a few years before the death of his father and, with the death of his uncle-stepfather Ptolemy XIV in 44 BCE, he became co-ruler with his mother. At the time, he was only 2 or 3 years old.

Caesarion ruled, at least in name, well past babyhood, but after Caesar’s adopted son Octavian (later Caesar Augustus) defeated Mark Antony in 31 BCE, Caesarion was lured to Alexandria and executed in 30 BCE.

Her Full Name Translates to “Cleopatra the Father-Loving Goddess”

Cleopatra’s full name was Cleopatra VII Thea Philopator, which translates to “Cleopatra the Father-Loving Goddess.” Her co-ruling brothers Ptolemy XIII and Ptolemy XIV both had Theo Philopator, the masculine equivalent, in their titles. Their father, Ptolemy XII Theos Philopator Philadelphus Neos Dionysos Auletes, was the first of the Ptolemaic pharaohs to include “Theos,” or “God,” in his formal title, which continued with his ruling children.

Arab Scholars Had a Much Different View of Cleopatra

Westerners are more familiar with the story of Cleopatra that stemmed from Roman propaganda — but the Romans weren’t the only ones to tell her tale. Medieval Arabic writings paint her as a scientist who made major advances in mathematics, alchemy, and medicine, and even hosted academic seminars. They call her “the Virtuous Scholar,” and make little to no mention of her appearance. This version of Cleopatra could be just as exaggerated as the Western one, however — and some scholars think it’s likely these descriptions concern a different Cleopatra altogether, or perhaps stemmed from confusion caused by books that were dedicated to Cleopatra but written by others.

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While the U.S. presidency is one of the most important jobs in the land, it’s not without its less-serious side. Do you know which President had a dog named Veto, or who kept a giant wheel of cheese on display at the White House? The facts below, culled from around our website, include some historic firsts, some notable contributions, and at least one pygmy hippopotamus. Read on for 25 of our most share-worthy facts about the commanders in chief.

10th President John Tyler Still Has a Living Grandson

More than 200 years after the 10th President of the United States was born, one of his grandsons is still alive. As impossible as that may seem, the math — and biology — checks out. John Tyler, who was born in 1790 and became President in 1841, had a son named Lyon Gardiner Tyler in 1853. This son was born to the then-60-something Tyler and his second, much younger, wife, Julia Gardiner. Lyon then had two sons of his own in his 70s (also with a much younger second wife), one of whom — Harrison Ruffin Tyler, born in 1928 — is still gracing the Earth in his early 90s. It may make this feat slightly less surprising to know that Tyler had 15 children, more than any other POTUS in U.S. history.

Abraham Lincoln Considered Joining the Donner Party Expedition

In the spring of 1847, American newspapers printed horrifying reports about an ill-fated group of pioneers who had become trapped in the Sierra Nevada over the winter. With few provisions and facing unbearable cold, nearly half of the group’s 81 members perished before rescue parties could find them. Eventually, the Donner Party’s tragic tale became embedded in American history, but it could have had a much greater impact had a young Illinois lawyer chosen to join the group.

In the 1840s, emigrants were itching to go west in search of gold, new beginnings, and a glimpse of the West Coast’s famed beauty. So it wasn’t strange that Abraham Lincoln, then working as a lawyer, helped at least one traveler settle his affairs before beginning the journey. An Irish entrepreneur named James Reed had known Lincoln from their days serving together in the Black Hawk War in 1832. According to the historian Michael Wallis, Reed — a founder of the Donner Party — extended an invitation to the 37-year-old lawyer and his family to join the voyage. Lincoln was likely tempted: He reportedly had a lifelong interest in visiting California. But his wife, Mary Todd, was adamant they should remain in Illinois, considering the difficulty of 2,000 miles of wagon travel with a young son and a baby on the way. Lincoln ended up trading his dream of westward travel for political ambitions that took him much further in history when he became the 16th President 15 years later.

Martin Van Buren Was the Only President Whose First Language Wasn’t English

Having grown up in the Dutch-speaking community of Kinderhook, New York, Van Buren was the only President whose first language was not English. Although Van Buren worked hard to mask his original tongue, observers claim his accent would surface whenever he became visibly excited.

Martin Van Buren was also the first President born a U.S. citizen. Though his seven predecessors were also born in what’s now the United States of America, they came into the world as British subjects. Van Buren was born on December 5, 1782 — six years after the Declaration of Independence was signed and less than a year before the Revolutionary War officially ended.

No Member of the Military Will Ever Outrank George Washington

While every acting President serves as the commander in chief of the U.S. military, nobody will ever outrank George Washington. He was posthumously given the rank of General of the Armies of the United States, sometimes compared to being a six-star general. Although General John J. Pershing also held the title for his service during WWI, when President Ford appointed Washington in 1976 — 200 years after Washington’s heyday — he specified that our first President would always rank first among all Army officers past and present.

The “S” in Ulysses S. Grant Doesn’t Stand for Anything

Ulysses S. Grant is one of the most important figures in U.S. history, so it’s strange that many Americans don’t know his real name. Born Hiram Ulysses Grant on April 27, 1822, Grant went by the name “Ulysses” from a young age (even when boys teased him with names like “Useless Grant”). So where does the “S” come from?

In mid-June of 1864, during the height of the Civil War, Congressman Elihu B. Washburne had the same question and wrote to Grant in search of an answer. “In answer to your letter,” Grant wrote in response, “I can only state nothing.” Twenty-five years earlier, when U.S. Congressman Thomas Hamer nominated Grant to the prestigious military academy West Point, he wrote the then-17-year-old’s name as “Ulysses S. Grant,” thinking his middle initial was “S” for his mother’s maiden name, “Simpson.” Grant tried to remedy the error, but to no avail — the “S” even appeared on his diploma. The mistake proved prophetic as the object of his lifelong devotion became embedded within his very name: U.S. Grant.

No U.S. President Has Been an Only Child

In the sibling department, every President has had, at minimum, one half-brother or half-sister. However, a few Presidents are sometimes considered to have been raised as only children — most notably Franklin D. Roosevelt, whose only half-sibling (his father’s oldest son, James) was 28 years FDR’s senior. Bill Clinton’s half-brother, Roger, is about a decade younger than him. Barack Obama also has a 10-year age gap with his younger half-sister Maya, although he learned later in life that he had at least five more half-siblings on his father’s side. Meanwhile, Gerald Ford is the only child his mother and father produced, but he was raised with three younger half-brothers after his mother remarried, and as a teen, he learned that he also had three younger half-sisters, via his father.

Four U.S. Presidents Never Had a Vice President

For about 37 years of its 245-year history, the U.S. has been without a second-in-command. Before the passage of the 25th Amendment in 1967, there was no procedure for filling the role if a commander in chief died in office. Instead, there just wasn’t a VP if that happened — at least not until the next presidential election. Thanks to this legislative quirk, John Tyler, Millard Fillmore, Andrew Johnson, and Chester Arthur (all VPs under Presidents who died in office) served their entire presidential terms without a Vice President. Other Presidents have gone without VPs for at least part of their terms, whether through resignation (two) or because their veeps died in office (seven).

FDR Served Two More Terms Than Any President Ever Will

Franklin Roosevelt is remembered for many things, but one reason his impact looms so large in American history is because he was elected commander in chief four times — double any other U.S. President. George Washington set a precedent when he served only two terms in the late 18th century, and future Presidents more or less followed this tradition (though FDR’s cousin Theodore Roosevelt ran for a third term). After Roosevelt’s historic 12 years in office (he died early into his fourth term), the U.S. Congress passed the 22nd Amendment, officially limiting any future President’s time in office to two terms.

James A. Garfield Had a Dog Named Veto

James A. Garfield didn’t have the strangest presidential pet — that distinction probably belongs to either John Quincy Adams’ alligator (which he kept in a bathtub) or Martin Van Buren’s two tiger cubs — but his dog Veto might have had the cleverest name. Named after the presidential power to prevent a bill passed by Congress from becoming law, the black Newfoundland was described by the Lewiston Evening Journal as “a true protector” who once alerted his humans to a barn fire by barking, and who also once “held the reins of a valuable horse on a rampage in the barn” until help arrived to resolve the equine emergency.

This wasn’t just a bit of humor on Garfield’s part. According to the book First Dogs: American Presidents and Their Best Friends, the 20th President “wanted to remind the rambunctious Congress of 1881 that he might not sign all of the bills it passed,” as he considered some of them “a revolution against the Constitution.”

Abraham Lincoln Was a Top-Ranked Wrestler

Honest Abe was an accomplished wrestler. It’s said that, as a young man in Illinois, Lincoln competed in about 300 wrestling contests over 12 years and lost just one match. In 1830, after he was crowned his county’s wrestling champion, Lincoln wasn’t afraid to trash-talk his opponents: “I’m the big buck of this lick,” he reportedly said. “If any of you want to try it, come on and whet your horns.”

FDR Was the First President To Be Seen on TV

Although Roosevelt is perhaps most famous for his fireside chats broadcast via radio, the nation’s 32nd President was also the first to ever be seen on television. The President appeared on TV during the world’s fair in New York in 1939, although only a handful of TV sets in the area were able to actually watch the broadcast. As World War II exploded across Europe and Asia, and TVs became more commonplace in American homes, FDR became the first President to really use the emerging medium.

Andrew Jackson Kept a 1,400-Pound Wheel of Cheese on Display at the White House

To say that Andrew Jackson’s legacy is complicated would be putting it mildly — he had a particularly horrifying record when it came to enslaved people and Native Americans. But his eight years in the Oval Office did include at least one less painful story: “Old Hickory” kept a nearly 1,400-pound wheel of cheese on display at the White House for more than a year. The enormous block of cheddar was a gift from Colonel Thomas S. Meacham, who made it on his dairy farm in Sandy Creek, New York, in 1835 and presented it shortly thereafter. At 4 feet in diameter and 2 feet thick, the cheese was an imposing presence — and much too heavy to lug around, hence Jackson’s decision to leave it in the foyer. Not wanting to bring it with him upon leaving office, he gave it pride of place at his last public reception, an 1837 celebration of George Washington’s birthday, and succeeded in having his many guests (a reported 10,000) eat the whole thing.

While President, Ulysses S. Grant Was Arrested for Speeding

In 1908, nearly 25 years after Ulysses S. Grant’s death, a peculiar story hit the pages of the Washington Evening Star. Retired police officer William H. West recounted how he had caught the 18th President speeding through the streets of Washington, D.C., and decided the only appropriate course of action was to proceed with an arrest.

West’s tale harkened back to 1872, when complaints of speeding carriages were on the rise. West had been out investigating a collision when he witnessed Grant — then the sitting President — careening his horse-drawn carriage down the road. The officer flagged down the carriage, issued a warning, and sent Grant on his way. But Grant, who had a reputation for high-tailing horse rides, couldn’t resist the need to speed. West caught him tearing through the city again the very next day. Feeling he had no other option, the officer placed the President under arrest.

At the police department, Grant was required to put $20 (about $490 in today’s money) toward his bond before being released. The situation blew over pretty quickly; Grant owned up to his mistake, though he did choose to skip his court appearance scheduled for the following day, which meant he forfeited his $20. He didn’t face any further consequences, however. Meanwhile, West — a formerly enslaved Civil War veteran who became one of just two Black police officers in Washington, D.C., immediately after the war — was commended for his actions in trying to make the city streets safer.

The Earliest U.S. Presidents Didn’t Wear Pants

The very first U.S. Presidents — George Washington included — led the country through the American Revolution and its earliest days without wearing a single pair of pants. That’s because the Founding Fathers actually wore breeches, pairs of tight-fitting men’s bottoms that cut off at the knee. (Their calves were covered with knee-high stockings.) Breeches were a status symbol; full-length pantaloons were generally reserved for working folk who needed more ease to complete manual labor, which was difficult to do in custom-fitted breeches.

The U.S. Was the First Nation to Use the Term “President” for Its Head of State

Once the U.S. finally secured its independence from Great Britain with the signing of the Treaty of Paris in 1783, the new country had to invent lots of things from scratch, including what to call its leader. The title “president” — derived from the Latin praesidere, which means “to sit before” — had usually been reserved for heads of colleges or ceremonial titles in congresses or committees. Before American independence, leaders of European countries were called kings, queens, emperors, dukes, or even Lord Protectors (during England’s more revolutionary years), but never “president.” Article II of the U.S. Constitution enshrined the title “President,” reflecting the democratic sentiments of post-revolutionary America.

Franklin D. Roosevelt Was the First President to Travel by Plane on Official Business

In October 1910, Theodore Roosevelt soared into the sky, a passenger on a two-person airplane flown above St. Louis’ Kinloch Field. With just three minutes of flight time, Roosevelt became the first U.S. President to fly — what he called the “bulliest experience” he’d ever had — though historians point out that he wasn’t the first sitting President to do so, since he had recently left office. Instead, that honor would go to his cousin Franklin D. Roosevelt, who became the first President to fly on official business some three decades later.

FDR’s history-making flight in January 1943 was made out of wartime necessity. That month, he attended the famed Casablanca Conference, crossing the Atlantic Ocean to meet with Winston Churchill in Casablanca, Morocco, where the two leaders agreed to demand an unconditional surrender from World War II’s Axis powers. But getting to northern Africa was no easy feat at a time when the heavy presence of German U-boats throughout Atlantic waters created perilous travel for American ships. Reluctantly, Roosevelt’s advisers agreed to send the President by plane, keeping the journey so secretive that even the flight crew were surprised to see the President when he boarded.

The Last U.S. President With Facial Hair Was William Howard Taft

On Inauguration Day in 1913, mustachioed President William Howard Taft passed the presidential baton to clean-shaven Woodrow Wilson. What Taft couldn’t have known at the time was that his departure began a long streak of clean-shaven faces occupying the Oval Office. In fact, out of the 46 Presidents in U.S. history so far, only 13 have had any facial hair whatsoever. Although sixth President John Quincy Adams, eighth President Martin Van Buren, and 12th President Zachary Taylor sported impressive mutton chops, the first serious presidential facial fuzz belonged to 16th President Abraham Lincoln — thanks to an 11-year-old girl whose 1860 letter convinced him to grow out his whiskers. After Lincoln, eight of the next 10 Presidents sported some sort of facial hair.

But in the early 20th century, facial hair suffered some serious PR issues; medical experts began to see it as unhygienic, and the introduction of the disposable razor in 1901 encouraged its demise. Although facial hair’s cultural fortunes have ebbed and flowed in the ensuing century, a fuzzy face has yet to return to the Oval Office.

Thomas Jefferson Was the First Known American to Write Down a Recipe for Ice Cream

Though the common claim that Thomas Jefferson introduced the beloved frozen treat to America has been debunked, it is true that the third President was the first known American to write down a recipe for ice cream. A well-known foodie and wine enthusiast, Jefferson is thought to have first tasted ice cream during his time as minister to France between 1784 and 1789, starting a love affair that would last the rest of his life. That includes his time in the White House, where it was offered to guests on at least six different occasions during his presidency. According to accounts from those visitors, Jefferson was fond of serving the delicacy inside of a crust or pastry.

The actual recipe, which may have come from Jefferson’s French butler and has been preserved in the Library of Congress, calls for “2 bottles of good cream and 6 yolks of eggs” in addition to half a pound of sugar.

Jimmy Carter Was the First President Born in a Hospital

In his nearly 100 years on Earth, Jimmy Carter has set a number of records and achieved almost as many firsts. In addition to being the longest-living President in U.S. history, he was also the first one born in a hospital — an event that occurred on October 1, 1924, in Plains, Georgia. It was much more common for babies to be born at home in the early 20th century than it is now, but Carter’s mother was a nurse at what was then known as Wise Sanitarium. There happened to be a room available on that fateful October night, and the hospital has since been renamed the Lillian G. Carter Nursing Center.

John F. Kennedy Donated His Entire Presidential Salary to Charity

When JFK took office in 1961, he was the richest individual to hold the role. Kennedy was born into a wealthy family, and while he accepted the President’s annual $100,000 salary, he opted to donate those funds to charity rather than pocketing any for himself.

Kennedy’s decision was reminiscent of a predecessor from several decades prior; Herbert Hoover was independently wealthy too, and decided to donate his presidential salary as well. After taking office on January 20, 1961, JFK’s prorated salary of $94,583.32 for the remaining year was dispersed among several charitable causes.

Throughout Kennedy’s entire political career — a period that included six years as a congressman, eight years in the Senate, and an abbreviated term as President — he donated nearly $500,000 of his various government salaries to charity. Some of the charities he contributed to include the Boy Scouts and Girl Scouts of America, the United Negro College Fund, and the Cuban Families Committee.

First Ladies Haven’t Always Been Married to the President

Not every President has entered the White House with a spouse ready to take on the demanding job of First Lady. Four Presidents — Thomas Jefferson, Andrew Jackson, Martin Van Buren, and Chester A. Arthur — entered the executive office as widowers, and one (James Buchanan) never married. For these men, the supporting role was instead filled by someone other than the President’s wife, such as a female family member, friend, or even a Cabinet member’s relative.

Even married Presidents have been aided by “White House hostesses” who weren’t their wives. Take, for example, Margaret Taylor and Abigail Fillmore, who both took so little interest in being First Lady that they appointed their daughters to the job. At least nine presidential daughters (or daughters-in-law), along with two nieces and two sisters, have stepped into the role, performing all the required duties: arranging formal dinners, hosting social events, managing White House renovations, and championing philanthropic and social causes (plus more).

Ulysses S. Grant Was the First POTUS to Receive a Raise

Ulysses S. Grant served as President from 1869 until 1877. On March 3, 1873, Congress passed a law that was referred to by its deriders as the “Salary Grab Act.” The law awarded retroactive pay raises to departing members of Congress, raised the salaries of incoming members of Congress, and doubled the President’s salary, to $50,000 per year. It was the first presidential salary increase in American history. The act was signed by President Grant just hours before he was set to be sworn in for a second term. The signing was deeply controversial, but the pay raise stuck, and Presidents continued to earn $50,000 annually until the position’s salary was raised yet again in 1909.

The Story About William Howard Taft Getting Stuck in a Bathtub is a Myth

One of the stranger presidential myths might be chalked up to potty humor. Somehow, 27th President William Howard Taft became associated with an embarrassing incident around getting stuck in a bathtub. While it’s true that he was larger in stature, weighing in at 350 pounds, he never had to be rescued from a tub.

That said, there is a reason he’s associated with baths. During his presidency, a super-sized porcelain tub that was 7 feet long, 41 inches wide, and a ton in weight was installed in the White House. It was so massive that four grown men could fit inside. In another bath incident after his presidency, he filled a tub at a hotel in Cape May, New Jersey, a little too high, and when he stepped into it, it overflowed to the point that the guests in the dining room below got a bit of a shower.

President Calvin Coolidge Kept a Pygmy Hippopotamus

Calvin Coolidge, the 30th U.S. President, had one of the most exotic collections of pets of any American chief executive. During his presidency, Coolidge had six dogs, a bobcat, two raccoons, a goose, a donkey, a cat, a bear, two lion cubs, an antelope, a wallaby, and more. But the strangest of Coolidge’s pets was probably Billy, a pygmy hippopotamus, who was given to Coolidge as a gift from businessman Harvey Firestone (as in Firestone tires). Perhaps because of his size (even a pygmy hippo can weigh up to 600 pounds), or because he was one of only a few pygmy hippos in the U.S., Billy was donated to the Smithsonian National Zoological Park, where he became the proud father of many hippo calves. In fact, most of the pygmy hippos in the U.S. today can be traced back to his lineage.

Richard Nixon Was Reportedly Descended From King Edward III

America was founded in part to oppose royalty, but some of our leaders were still descended from it. Richard Nixon, for example, is believed to have counted King Edward III among his ancestors on his maternal grandfather’s side (what’s more, he was named for Richard the Lionheart). The legacy of the 37th President is largely defined by its disgraceful end — with Nixon ultimately choosing to resign in August 1974 rather than face impeachment for his involvement in the Watergate scandal — but before that, Nixon was a political force who at times seemed poised to live up to his lineage. He spent three years in the House of Representatives, about two in the Senate, and eight as Dwight D. Eisenhower’s Vice President before ascending to the presidency himself.

Feature image credit: Original photo by lucky-photographer/ iStock

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You probably know that Los Angeles means “the angels” and New York was named after a 17th-century duke, but have you ever pondered the meaning behind names like Cairo and Toronto? Fret not if you haven’t, because we have. Here’s how eight cities from around the world got their names.

Abu Dhabi: “Father of the Gazelle”

The capital — and, after Dubai, second-most populous city — of the United Arab Emirates has an especially lovely name that’s thought to be rooted in folklore. Abu is Arabic for “father,” while Dhabi means gazelle; as you might have guessed, the surrounding area abounds with the majestic creatures.

The folktale in question concerns Shakhbut bin Dhiyab Al Nahyan, who ruled Abu Dhabi from 1795 to 1816. Thirty years before his reign began, Shakhbut’s father, Dhiyab bin Isa, sent a hunting party from the Liwa Oasis to track a gazelle to a spring on the island now known as Abu Dhabi. His father later ordered Shakhbut to move there, and upon his arrival he built a fort called Qasr-Al Hosn that became the palace of the sheikhs.

Cairo: “The Victorious”

It’s only fitting that Cairo, one of the world’s most famous ancient cities, has an equally grandiose name. Though it’s often known by Egyptians as Maṣr, the Arabic name for Egypt itself, its actual name of al-Qāhirah translates to “the Victorious,” “the Vanquisher,” or “the Conqueror.” That’s because the planet Mars, known in Arabic as an-Najm al-Qāhir (“the Conquering Star”), is said to have been rising in the sky at the time Cairo was founded in 969 C.E.

That isn’t its only name, however. Cairo is also known as Kashromi and Nistram in Coptic Egyptian, which mean “man-breaker” and “land of sun,” respectively.

Hong Kong: “Fragrant Harbor”

Before it was romanized as Hong Kong, the special administrative region of China that has long beguiled visitors was known in English as He-Ong-Kong. That moniker dates back to 1780 and is thought to be a phonetic reading of hēung góng, a Cantonese name that translates to both “fragrant harbor” and “incense harbor.”

Hong Kong has long been one of the world’s most important commercial ports. The apparently sweet-tasting waters of the Pearl River may have been responsible for the “fragrant” designation; as for the other, a number of incense factories used to be found in the city’s Kowloon district. An alternate explanation comes courtesy of John Davis, who served as Governor of Hong Kong from 1844 to 1848 and said that the name came from “Hoong-keang” (“red torrent”). According to him, the name honored the red soil found beneath a waterfall on Hong Kong Island.

Las Vegas: “The Meadows”

Some know it as Sin City, the Entertainment Capital of the World, or simply Vegas, but in Spanish its name has a much simpler meaning: “the meadows.” That geographical feature isn’t one we typically associate with Nevada in general and Las Vegas in particular these days, but the Silver State’s landscape was drastically different in 1829. That’s when Rafael Rivera, a Mexican scout generally recognized as the first non-Native American to arrive in the area, came upon a grassy valley whose nutrient-rich soil was kept verdant by desert spring water.

Oslo: “Meadow of the Gods”

Originally founded as Ánslo in 1040 and known as Christiania after it was rebuilt following a 1624 fire, Norway’s capital and most populous city didn’t take on its current title until 1925. Until then, Oslo was merely an unincorporated suburb. Its name, like many in Scandinavia, comes from Old Norse: Oslo translates to “meadow of the gods” by some and as “meadow at the foot of the hill” by others.

Those who believe the godly interpretation attribute that to the word áss or ansu, which refers to the gods of Old Norse religion (Æsir). The topographical explanation may be more likely, as many other Norwegian names begin with “ås” and refer to ridges and hills, but it’s certainly not as cool. Scholars previously thought that “the mouth of the Lo river” was the true translation, a theory since debunked as both grammatically and historically incorrect.

Rio de Janeiro: “River of January”

Despite its name, there isn’t actually a river in Rio de Janeiro. Rather, the city is named “River of January” in Portuguese because the colonists who arrived there in 1502 mistakenly believed that Guanabara Bay was actually the mouth of a river. As this occurred in January, the area was named in honor of this not-quite discovery. (There’s minor debate about this, as some historians believe that “rio” was used as a generic term for coastal indentations at the time, but the main theory is generally considered the correct one.)

Go to Rio itself, however, and you may hear it referred to as Cidade Maravilhosa — “the marvelous city.”

Tokyo: “Eastern Capital”

Japan has had many capitals throughout its history, including Nara and Kyoto, which helps explain how Tokyo got its current name — and why it wasn’t called that to begin with. It received its current title during the Meiji Restoration of 1868, when Emperor Meiji  began to rapidly industrialize Japan and introduce Western culture to the Land of the Rising Sun, often at the expense of historical customs. During this period, he relocated the imperial capital and gave the city a new name meaning “eastern capital.”

This was actually a highly traditional move in its own way, as other East Asian capitals (including Kyoto itself) had the word “capital” in their names. For a time, it was actually called Tōkei by some who preferred that pronunciation of the characters 東京.

Toronto: “Place Where Trees Stand in the Water”

Long before Europeans arrived in what we now call Toronto, the Iroquois called the area home. It’s generally agreed that the city’s current name comes from tkaronto, an Iroquois word that translates to “place where trees stand in the water”; the water in this case is that of Lake Simcoe.

Toronto can also be translated as “plenty” from the Huron language, but the word has also been spelled as “Taronto,” meaning “the narrows,” when referring to a channel of water found between lakes Couchiching and Simcoe.

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The history books are full of fascinating men and women who are household names: Rosa Parks, Genghis Khan, and Julius Caesar, to name a few. But for every famous name, there are dozens of deserving personalities who may have been forgotten. Here’s a handful of influential figures who have affected our lives in ways big and small, from the inventor of Duct tape to one of the world’s first pop music stars.

Vesta Stoudt, Inventor of Duct Tape

The mother of two Navy sailors during World War II, Vesta Stoudt worried about her boys overseas. At home in Illinois, Stoudt worked at a factory packing and inspecting ammunition boxes. Back then, packages were sealed with paper tape that had a tab, which often broke, and then the entire box was dipped in wax to make it waterproof. Seeing that the packages were cumbersome to open — and possibly putting soldiers in harm’s way when trying to open packages while under siege — she attempted to invent a new type of packing tape that was both waterproof and easy to open. When her employer rejected the design, Stoudt didn’t take no for an answer. Instead, she went to the top and wrote a letter to President Franklin Roosevelt. Surprisingly, she received a reply explaining that her idea was being implemented. Soldiers found the tape so quick and easy to use, they called it “100 Mile an Hour Tape.” Today, we just call it Duct tape.  

Ching Shih, Legendary Female Pirate

Ching Shih was a fearless female pirate from China. Following the 1807 death of her husband Cheng I, who was head of the powerful Red Flag Fleet, she unofficially commanded a fleet of 1,800 pirate ships and approximately 80,000 men. She also took control of the Guangdong Pirate Confederation and spent the following years waging battle — and winning — against the Portuguese Empire, the Chinese Navy, and Britain’s East India Company. She’s widely considered one of the most successful pirates of all time.

Thespis, First Actor

From junior high musicals to Hollywood blockbusters, actors across the globe owe a debt to Thespis. According to Ancient Greek sources, the poet was history’s first actor. (After all, he’s the origin of the word “thespian.”) Before Thespis, stage performers generally told stories from their perspectives. But Thespis changed the game when he began telling stories by playing a character, not just himself. His work in 6th-century BCE also led to the groundbreaking development of the Greek tragedy, a format that has influenced storytelling and theater ever since.  

Tom Wiggins, World’s First Pop Star

Born into slavery in Georgia 1849, Tom Wiggins was blind and autistic. But he had a special gift: Whenever the slavemaster’s daughter played the piano, Wiggins could recreate the song by ear. He also had an uncanny ability to memorize tunes after playing them just once. By the age of 8, he had a humongous repertoire and began touring, selling out shows to packed audiences. By 10, he became the first Black musician to perform at the White House. By his teenage years, he was touring the globe and was composing sophisticated works of classical music. By the turn of the 20th century, Wiggins was a household name — making him one of the world’s first popular musicians.

Abbas Ibn Firnas, Early Aviator

Forget the Wright Brothers, Howard Hughes, and Charles Lindbergh. If there’s one name in aviation you need to know, it’s Abbas Ibn Firnas, the father of human flight. In 875, the Andalusian polymath began tinkering with the world’s first successful glider. Not content to simply build a flying contraption, Firnas took his cues from birds and covered his body in feathers. (“I should ascend like the birds,” he purportedly told onlookers.) Shortly after, Firnas reportedly jumped off a cliff, caught a stiff breeze, and gently glided across the valley for several yards. Today, there’s a statue of him outside of Baghdad International Airport.

Febb Burn, Women’s Suffrage Heroine

By mid-1920, the 19th amendment, which would grant all women the right to vote, was on the verge of being enshrined in the Constitution. A total of 35 states had voted to ratify the amendment, and activists needed just one more for the amendment to pass. The problem? There was only one state left to vote: Tennessee.

When lobbyists from both sides descended onto Nashville to make their case, it became clear that the vote could end up deadlocked. At the center of the controversy was Harry T. Burn, a 24-year-old politician from an anti-suffrage district. But when it came time to vote, Burn stunned the assembly with a vote of “aye.” Burn flipped because he had received a letter from his mother, Febb, imploring him to vote for the amendment, asking him, “Don’t forget to be a good boy.” Burn later admitted, “I knew that a mother’s advice is always safest for a boy to follow and my mother wanted me to vote for ratification.”

Rabban Bar Saum, Silk Road Pioneer

Many are familiar with Marco Polo, the Venetian merchant whose account of traveling the Silk Road in the 13th century provided a new perspective on the Far East. However, few know about Rabban Bar Sauma, who did the same, but in reverse. A monk from eastern China, Sauma embarked on his journey years before Polo. His pilgrimage westward took him to Baghdad, Constantinople, Rome, Genoa, Paris, and the Bordeaux region of France. Sauma would eventually write a book about his travels, which, like Polo’s, gave the world an outsider’s view of an unfamiliar and distant land.

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It seems like archaeologists these days are constantly being “baffled” by mysterious objects in clickbait headlines. In reality, these highly trained experts can usually figure out the meaning of an ancient structure or artifact based on their deep knowledge of past human cultures. But there are a few legitimate puzzles that archaeologists have not yet cracked, from an Egyptian mummy covered in untranslated Etruscan text to stone jars carved by an unknown culture to a cryptic word left as the only clue about the fate of early American colonists.

What’s the Story of the Multicultural Mummy?

The world’s longest existing text in the ancient Etruscan language, which was spoken in Italy around 700 to 300 BCE, was actually printed on mummy wrappings. Or rather, the mummy — that of a middle-aged woman named Nesi-hensu who died in the first century BCE — was for some reason wrapped in reused fabric strips that just happened to have previously been a linen book.

The mummy and sarcophagus of Nesi-hensu were purchased by a Croatian government official in the mid-1800s during a tour of Egypt. After he died, she was donated to the archaeological museum in Zagreb. But it wasn’t until 1892 that anyone realized the wrappings were in Etruscan.

Although scholars have dated the linen to the third century BCE, the “Liber Linteus” (as the wrappings are known) has only been partially translated, because the majority of the Etruscan language has not been decoded. The most recent attempt at full translation of the text came in 2007, but many word meanings are still unknown, and discussion among experts is ongoing. Most seem to agree, though, that the Liber Linteus was probably preserved as mummy wrappings because of its overall content: the description of certain sacrifices to the gods.

There is hope that the full book will eventually be able to be translated, but we may never know how an Egyptian embalmer got their hands on an Etruscan linen book in the first place.

Why Are There Huge Temples in a Tiny Island Country?

The small island nation of Malta in the Mediterranean Sea has seen waves of settlers since it was first inhabited by Neolithic farmers. But a civilization that lasted just one millennium is particularly bewildering: They built a dozen or so enormous temples across the islands and then disappeared.

The so-called Temple Period on Malta lasted from 3600 to 2500 BCE, during which at least 13 temples were built out of massive boulders. Ġgantija is the earliest of the temples and was built, according to Maltese folklore, by a giantess who ate beans and honey and had a child with a human. Predating even the Egyptian pyramids, Ġgantija is the second-oldest human-made structure in the world.

Megalithic temples were built for centuries, each one having a common architecture but also their own unique characteristics, almost as if the prehistoric Maltese people were experimenting with and refining their techniques over the years.

By 2500 BCE, the last megalithic complex at Tarxien — an elaborately decorated set of three temples probably used for rituals such as animal sacrifice — was no longer in use, and the civilization that created these enormous structures seems to have collapsed and disappeared.

How Do You Lose Track of a Hundred American Colonists?

On the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, 4,000 years later, another disappearance happened that would come to intrigue archaeologists. More than 100 men, women, and children from England attempted to settle Roanoke Island, off the Outer Banks of North Carolina, in 1587. But a welfare check in 1590 by English ships bringing supplies found no one — just the word CROATOAN scrawled into the ruins of the wooden palisade of the camp.

There was both an island and a Native American tribe named Croatoan nearby, which led John White, an English colonial administrator who was trying to help the British colonize Roanoke Island, to assume that the colonists relocated to the island and created a blended society. But some people believe the colonists returned to England, while still others assume they were massacred.

Archaeological work starting in the 1990s attempted to solve the question of the fate of the Lost Colony residents, but so far has found nothing conclusive. And we may actually never know the answer, since portions of Roanoke Island that could hold artifacts or other signs of life are now underwater due to shoreline erosion.

What Is This 12-Sided Metal Object?

We can be pretty certain that the ancient Romans weren’t playing Dungeons & Dragons. But dozens of copper dodecahedra have been found across Europe since 1739, and their purpose is still unknown, since classical archaeologists have not found pictures or textual references to these objects anywhere in the works of ancient authors.

The hollow, cast object with 12 pentagonal faces was initially assumed to have been a weapon, but other hypotheses for its uses include a children’s toy, a religious or fortunetelling item, or perhaps a kind of proof-of-skill that a metalsmith would create to attract new customers. But since several Roman dodecahedra were found along with valuable coins, they are thought to have been made for a specific, important purpose.

The most recent theory comes from an unlikely source: the crafting community. Many knitters have shown that replica dodecahedra can help them make woolen gloves, which may have been useful for Romans in the northern climes of the empire. Since knitting doesn’t seem to have been invented until centuries after the Roman Empire collapsed, though, this theory hasn’t been substantiated, and the mystery of the dodecahedra lives on.

Who Made These Enormous Stone Jars?

Thousands of huge stone jars litter the fields of north-central Laos, created by an unknown culture as early as 1250 BCE. The containers are mostly made from limestone, ranging in size from about 3 to 9 feet tall, with a wide bottom and a top that supported a lid. Called the Plain of Jars, the area is key to the prehistory of southeast Asia. But that history is not fully understood.

Local legend mentions a race of giants who created the jars to brew celebratory rice wine, but early archaeological work in the 1930s revealed that the jars were likely used for one stage of a complicated prehistoric burial practice. The deceased was placed in the urn, where their soul was believed to transform to its heavenly form, and their body was then cremated, the bones and ashes collected and buried near the jar. It’s unclear why these jars cluster in this particular geographic area, but experts have suggested the placement is related to trade networks of salt or iron ore.

Clues to the people who created the Plain of Jars are still few and far between, particularly because the site is full of unexploded bombs dropped in the 1960s by the U.S. Air Force during the Laotian Civil War. Mine clearance work is ongoing, though, and perhaps eventually archaeologists will be able to return and figure out who created the jars.

What’s the Meaning of the Phaistos Disk?

A 6-inch clay disk was found on the island of Crete in 1908, covered with unique signs pressed into a spiral design on both sides. Initially thought to be a forgery because of its unknown and distinctive text, the Phaistos Disk is now generally assumed to be an authentic archaeological puzzle that has yet to be solved.

The palace complex of Phaistos was used from about 3600 to 1400 BCE during the Bronze Age, along with many other Minoan sites on Crete. Artifacts have been discovered at Phaistos that include text in the Linear A script, a writing system that has not been translated to date.

Although Linear A is also a well-known textual mystery, the Phaistos Disk seems to be a one-off. It was found in the basement of the palace near an underground ritual storeroom. The symbols were stamped into the clay before firing, possibly an early example of movable-type printing.

Over the last century, many people have tried to decipher the Phaistos Disk. Suggested interpretations of the text include prayers, an adventure story, a calendar, and a board game. But these are only guesses. Most experts agree that unless another example of the text shows up some day, the meaning of the Phaistos Disk may never be understood.

How Did These Human Ancestors Wriggle Into South African Caves?

A decade ago, spelunkers found the first evidence of a new human relative, Homo naledi, deep within the Rising Star cave system in South Africa. While hundreds more bones have been discovered since then, archaeologists are still unsure how the tiny, small-brained H. naledi got into the cave to begin with.

Due to the completeness of the fossil skeletons, some experts think that a H. naledi community brought its deceased compatriots to the cave to bury them, pushing back the earliest date of purposeful burial to more than 300,000 years ago. But others don’t buy the idea that these individuals could have shimmied through extremely narrow passages and navigated a dark underground labyrinth, suspecting instead that they were washed there by floods, brought by carnivores, or possibly wandered into the cave as a group and couldn’t find their way out.

Research on the fossil skeletons found in the Rising Star cave is ongoing today, meaning we may eventually figure out what our distant relatives were doing far below the earth.

What’s Written on the Herculaneum Scrolls?

In 79 CE, the volcano Mount Vesuvius roared to life, decimating the population around the Bay of Naples and covering the ancient towns of Pompeii and Herculaneum. For centuries, the towns lay buried while people rebuilt on top of them, until large-scale archaeological excavations began in the early 18th century.

The lava and ash that spewed out of Vesuvius protected houses and preserved the bodies of people who weren’t able to escape. But it also helped save thousands of ancient scrolls that were stored in the Villa of the Papyri at Herculaneum, turning them into compact but fragile carbonized blocks that look a lot like charcoal.

When the scrolls were first discovered in 1752, many were thrown out, until archaeologists recognized ancient Greek letters through the soot. No one back then knew how to deal with the charred scrolls, and early attempts to unroll them all resulted in destruction. In the 21st century, though, “virtual unrolling” has taken off, with several research teams using X-rays, CT scans, and 3D scanning to detect the ink on the scrolls and attempt to read the text.

Virtual unrolling is slow going right now, with just a handful of words convincingly identified here and there. But many archaeologists and historians hope that, with ongoing advances in AI technology, we’ll know sooner rather than later what’s written on the 1,800 Herculaneum scrolls — and perhaps find some previously unknown ancient texts.

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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.