When we think of history, wars, revolutions, and treaties often dominate the narrative. Yet, tucked between the battles and borders are love stories so powerful they redirected entire civilizations. In this roundup of 10 great romances, we’ll travel from ancient Athens to the New World, meeting couples whose devotion sparked political change, cultural rebirth, and even the birth of nations.

10 Great Romances Through History

10 Pericles And Aspasia

Pericles, the celebrated orator, general, and architect of Athenian democracy, found his intellectual equal in Aspasia, a strikingly articulate woman from Miletus. Their paths crossed at a lively symposium, where Pericles was instantly captivated by her sharp wit and radiant beauty. Because Aspasia hailed from a foreign city, she enjoyed a degree of personal freedom uncommon for women of that era, quickly rising to become a celebrated salonnière whose counsel was sought by the wives of Athens’ most influential men, eager for insight into domestic and political matters.

Despite Aspasia’s evident sophistication, their union sparked jealousy among the conservative elite, who muttered slurs and attempted to discredit their bond. Yet, she garnered fierce defenders, most notably Socrates, who praised her intellect. Ironically, Pericles had earlier championed a law barring Athenians from marrying foreigners—a law that became moot for him. Legend holds that Pericles kissed Aspasia every single day until his death in 429 B.C., a testament to a love that endured beyond legal and social constraints.

9 The Sacred Band Of Thebes

For centuries Sparta’s phalanx reigned supreme, its disciplined soldiers feared across the Mediterranean. Yet the Thebans, under the visionary Gorgidas, introduced a radical concept: an elite unit composed entirely of male lovers, known as the Sacred Band. Gorgidas believed that a brother‑in‑arms bound by love would fight with unrivaled bravery, refusing to abandon a partner on the battlefield. This intimate camaraderie proved decisive when, in 371 B.C., the Theban army, led by Epaminondas, re‑arranged its formation, concentrating the most experienced troops—including the Sacred Band—on the left wing at Leuctra.

The left wing’s fierce charge smashed through the Spartan right, routing the famed hoplites and delivering a mortal wound to the Spartan king. The defeat shattered the myth of Sparta’s invincibility, ushering in a brief era of Theban ascendancy. The Sacred Band’s story illustrates how personal devotion can translate into collective military might, altering the power dynamics of ancient Greece.

Beyond the battlefield, the Band’s existence challenged prevailing social norms, demonstrating that love between men could be celebrated rather than condemned. Their legacy endures as a powerful reminder that intimacy and loyalty can become the very foundation of historic triumphs.

8 Frederick And Anna Murray Douglass

Frederick Douglass, later renowned as an abolitionist orator and statesman, owed much of his early success to his first wife, Anna Murray. Born a free Black woman in Maryland, Anna met Douglass while he labored as a ship caulker. Recognizing his yearning for freedom, she purchased a train ticket and a sailor’s disguise, enabling his daring escape from slavery. Their marriage soon followed, cementing a partnership that would propel Douglass onto the national stage.

While Douglass toured the North delivering impassioned speeches, Anna shouldered the demanding task of raising five children and providing for the family through work as a washerwoman and shoemaker. In addition to domestic responsibilities, she opened her home to fugitive slaves seeking refuge, becoming one of the earliest agents of the Underground Railroad. Despite the strains of Douglass’s frequent absences and occasional infidelity, Anna remained steadfast, nurturing both their offspring and the larger dream of emancipation.

Anna’s quiet heroism continued until her death on August 4, 1882. Douglass, overwhelmed by grief, passed away just over a decade later. Their story, later chronicled by their daughter Rosetta, underscores how behind many celebrated leaders stands a partner whose sacrifices are equally vital to the march toward liberty.

7 Emperor Gaozong And Wu Zetian

The Tang dynasty’s second emperor, Gaozong, inherited a realm already famed for its cultural brilliance under his father, Taizong. While passing a convent, Gaozong’s gaze fell upon a young woman named Wu Zetian, who had previously served as a junior concubine to his predecessor. Tradition dictated that a widowed concubine shave her head and retreat to monastic life, but Wu Zetian’s ambition refused to be dimmed.

Undeterred, Gaozong summoned her back to the palace, granting her the status of his own concubine. Their relationship ignited scandal, as conservative officials decried the apparent impropriety of a former concubine re‑entering the imperial harem. Yet Wu Zetian’s intelligence and political acumen soon eclipsed rival courtiers, and she was proclaimed Empress in 655 A.D., outlasting all other consorts.

As Gaozong’s health waned, Wu Zetian assumed de facto control of state affairs, steering the empire through diplomatic challenges and internal reforms. Gaozong allowed her to issue edicts in his name for decades, effectively making her the power behind the throne until his death in 683 A.D.

Seven years later, Wu Zetian seized the throne outright, becoming China’s sole female emperor. Her reign ushered in a period of merit‑based appointments, relative peace, and expanded rights for women, even encouraging a nascent form of public consultation that resembled early democratic principles. Her story illustrates how personal partnership can evolve into singular, transformative leadership.

6 Justinian And Theodora

When the Greeks of Constantinople whispered, “Who is this woman who commands the emperor’s will?” they referred to Theodora, a former bear‑trainer’s daughter who rose from the circus to the imperial throne alongside Justinian. Born into the lowest rungs of society, she worked as a mime and actress—occupations then equated with prostitution—yet her charisma captured Justinian’s heart, leading to their marriage in 525 A.D.

Theodora quickly leveraged her position to champion women’s rights, outlawing brothels, securing marriage and dowry protections, and curbing the exploitation of prostitutes. Her influence grew ever more critical during periods of civil unrest, particularly the Nika Revolt of 532 A.D., when angry crowds threatened to overthrow the empire.

Faced with the prospect of abdication, Justinian looked to his steadfast wife. Theodora’s resolute declaration—“Never will I see the day when I am not saluted as empress”—galvanized him to stay and suppress the rebellion. Their joint effort restored order, and the Hagia Sophia, ravaged in the uprising, was rebuilt under Justinian’s direction, becoming an architectural marvel that endures to this day.

Their partnership demonstrates how a union forged in adversity can reshape a civilization’s legal and cultural landscape, leaving an indelible imprint on Byzantine history.

5 Baji Rao And Mastani

India’s most celebrated love story—often eclipsed by the tale of Shah Jahan and Mumtaz Mahal—centers on the Maratha Peshwa Baji Rao I and his beloved Mastani, a striking Muslim woman of royal lineage. As the chief minister of the Maratha Confederacy, Baji Rao commanded an unbeaten military reputation, yet his heart belonged to a woman whose faith and culture differed from his own.

Their marriage ignited fierce opposition from Baji Rao’s family and the broader Hindu society, who viewed the union as a betrayal of tradition. Historians have minimized Mastani’s role, labeling her merely a “Muslim dancing girl,” but contemporary scholarship reveals her as a sophisticated, educated partner who inspired the Peshwa’s artistic and strategic sensibilities.

Family pressure forced repeated separations; Mastani was often hidden away, fueling Baji Rao’s descent into melancholy and heavy drinking. When Mastani eventually succumbed to illness, her grief drove the Peshwa to a premature death, illustrating how personal loss can reverberate through the corridors of power. In 2009, grave‑robbers attempted to unearth her tomb, prompting a rare moment of Hindu‑Muslim solidarity as locals united to protect her memory.

Their love, though shrouded in controversy, stands as a testament to the power of affection to transcend rigid social and religious boundaries, leaving a legacy that still resonates in modern Indian discourse.

4 Giuseppe And Anita Garibaldi

Giuseppe Garibaldi, the charismatic Italian revolutionary, first rose to fame after a failed insurrection in Piedmont forced him into exile. Fleeing to France and later Brazil, he joined a fledgling republic’s navy, where destiny introduced him to Anita, a bold woman trapped in an abusive marriage. Defying convention, Anita abandoned her husband and threw herself into Garibaldi’s revolutionary cause.

Throughout their partnership, Anita proved herself an indomitable combatant, fighting alongside Giuseppe during a hostile naval encounter in July 1840 while eight months pregnant. She also tended to wounded soldiers, managed logistics, and even led cavalry charges in Uruguay’s wars against Argentina. Their bond deepened when, after a harrowing battle, they wed, solidifying a partnership that blended love with shared political fervor.

Returning to Europe in 1847, Anita continued to support Giuseppe’s unification campaign, recruiting volunteers and securing weaponry. The collapse of the Roman Republic forced them into a grueling retreat, during which Anita fell gravely ill and died on August 4, 1849. Giuseppe’s grief never fully healed; he later remarried but remained haunted by Anita’s memory until his death in 1882.

3 Vladimir Lenin And Inessa Armand

On April 16, 1917, Vladimir Lenin stepped off a sealed train into St. Petersburg, a moment that would alter world history. The train, allegedly loaded with German money, also carried Inessa Armand, Lenin’s passionate confidante and lover. Armand, a polyglot fluent in five languages, had long served as Lenin’s trusted lieutenant, coordinating Bolshevik support across Europe during his exile.

Beyond political acumen, Inessa possessed a deep love for music—especially Beethoven—and championed women’s rights within the nascent Soviet system. Her diplomatic skill saw her representing Lenin at conferences alongside figures such as Rosa Luxemburg and Leon Trotsky, ensuring the revolutionary message resonated beyond Russia’s borders.

Three years after their arrival, Inessa contracted cholera and succumbed on September 24, 1920. The loss devastated Lenin; eyewitnesses described his funeral as a scene of profound sorrow, with the leader appearing gaunt and tear‑filled. Some historians argue that Inessa’s death accelerated Lenin’s own decline, underscoring how personal grief can intersect with political destiny.

2 Hernan Cortes And La Malinche

Legends swirl around La Malinche, the enigmatic interpreter who guided Hernán Cortés through the tumultuous conquest of Mexico. One tale even paints her as a deity, a woman mistaken for a goddess who was urged to lift a curse from a distant volcano—an anecdote that led locals to name the mountain after her. Over centuries, her image has oscillated between revered cultural mediator and reviled traitor, the latter view branding her as a seductress who betrayed her people.

Historical records reveal that La Malinche was one of twenty‑seven women presented to the Spaniards as tribute after a decisive battle. Recognizing her linguistic talent—fluent in both Mayan and Nahuatl—Cortés enlisted her as his interpreter, guide, and ultimately lover. Her diplomatic finesse facilitated negotiations, secured provisions, and helped broker alliances, making her indispensable to the conquest’s success.

Baptized as Doña Marina, she bore Cortés a son, Martín, who became among the earliest mestizos, embodying the cultural fusion that would define post‑conquest Mexico. Her legacy remains a complex tapestry of agency, survival, and the painful birth of a new, blended identity.

1 Ferdinand And Isabella

Isabella of Castile and Ferdinand of Aragon never met in person until destiny intervened. Rumors of each other’s charm, intelligence, and regal bearing traveled across courts, yet King Enrique IV of Castile forbade their union, preferring to wed Isabella to a foreign prince. Defying this decree, Ferdinand disguised himself as a humble merchant, while Isabella told her brother she would visit a family crypt, thereby slipping away from royal watch.

When they finally stood face‑to‑face, the spark was undeniable; they conversed for hours, quickly sealing their bond with a wedding on October 19, 1469, in Valladolid. Their alliance faced immediate challenges: Portugal, claiming rights to the Castilian throne, declared war, but Ferdinand’s strategic victories and Isabella’s personal diplomacy—she even rode out to quell local rebellions—kept the threat at bay.

As joint monarchs, they completed the Reconquista, toppling the Nasrid Kingdom of Granada in 1492 and unifying Spain under Christian rule. Their partnership also funded Christopher Columbus’s voyage, opening the New World to European exploration and ushering in an era of global empire, wealth, and cultural exchange that reshaped continents.

Jo’s great romance of five years has just ended. He’s writing a list based on historic love stories to somehow lessen the sadness. Poor guy. You can console him or share your own thoughts about the list in the comments section.

Most folks would love to do something that earns them a spot in the annals of history. A single, game‑changing feat can cement a name for eternity. Occasionally, a handful of individuals manage to leave fingerprints on several unrelated arenas, proving they were either brilliantly inventive or wildly lucky.

10 John Brinkley

John Brinkley was a notorious charlatan who marketed goat‑testicle transplants as a cure for male infertility. Though the procedure was medically bogus, he performed more than 16,000 of these operations, turning his dubious product into a cash‑cow. To bankroll his venture, Brinkley bought radio station KFKB—America’s fourth‑ever station—and filled it with 30‑minute infomercials that are now recognized as the world’s first TV‑style ads.

The U.S. government eventually shut down his practice for the fraudulent broadcasts, prompting Brinkley to relocate to Mexico. There he erected the most powerful transmission tower of its time, beaming his shows back into the United States. On this new channel, he mixed entertainment with his sales pitches and, crucially, became the first broadcaster to air country music nationwide, featuring legends like the Carter Family. His station is credited with thrusting country‑western sounds beyond Appalachia and into the national spotlight.

By migrating country music to Texas, Brinkley helped forge the modern country‑western genre that would dominate for decades. After his death, Wolfman Jack took over his slot, further spreading rock and roll across the country, cementing Brinkley’s indirect yet lasting influence on American music.

9 Tom Lehrer

In 1959, the skinny, bespectacled Harvard mathematician Tom Lehrer burst onto the scene as a razor‑sharp musical satirist. While the nation was glued to wholesome shows like Leave It to Beaver, Lehrer’s witty songs tackled taboo subjects—nuclear annihilation, lynch mobs, necrophilia, prostitution, murder, and even poison‑pigeons. The Library of Congress hails him as the pioneer of “sick comedy,” and in 2004 he became the first comedian enshrined in the National Recording Registry. His work inspired a lineage of humorists, from Lenny Bruce to Weird Al Yankovic.

Lehrer’s penchant for bending rules showed up during his Army stint, when a strict ban on alcohol threatened a 1957 Christmas party. He ingeniously mixed vodka with Jell‑O, exploiting the loophole that food, not liquor, was prohibited. This concoction is now celebrated as the first Jell‑O shot, a playful legacy that lives on in bars worldwide.

8 Cathy Smith

Cathy Smith entered the rock scene at just sixteen, a teenage groupie with a fierce devotion to The Band. She juggled romances with drummer Levon Helm, keyboardist Richard Manuel, and bassist Rick Danko. The tangled love triangle inspired the chorus of The Band’s classic “The Weight,” a track that peaked at #63 but later earned spots on Pitchfork’s top‑13‑of‑the‑1960s and Rolling Stone’s #41‑all‑time list.

After The Band, Smith fell for Canadian folk legend Gordon Lightfoot, who divorced his wife to marry her. Their volatile union produced both abuse and inspiration; Lightfoot’s sole #1 hit “Sundown” drew from their tumultuous relationship. The marriage dissolved in 1975, leaving Smith to wander back into The Band’s orbit.

In 1976, while The Band performed on Saturday Night Live, Smith crossed paths with John Belushi. She became his personal drug dealer, and in 1982 she administered a lethal cocktail of eleven speedballs that claimed Belushi’s life. Smith served 15 months for involuntary manslaughter, sealing her place in a dark chapter of entertainment history.

7 Carl Magee

The roaring 1920s scandal that rocked Washington—Teapot Dome—centered on Interior Secretary Albert Fall, who took bribes to lease federal oil lands. Investigative reporter Carl Magee first sensed something amiss, noticing Fall’s sudden influx of cash. Magee’s exposés detailed how Fall paid overdue debts in crisp $100 bills, prompting a federal investigation.

Fall attempted to silence Magee, even having him briefly arrested on fabricated charges. Before his incarceration, Magee passed his findings to Senator Thomas Walsh, who pursued the matter further. Six years later, Fall became the first cabinet member ever arrested while in office, confirming Magee’s revelations.

After a gun‑fire incident that unintentionally killed a bystander, Magee was acquitted and moved to Oklahoma City in 1927. Spotting a parking nightmare—cars hogging spots for hours—he invented the world’s first parking meter in 1935, dubbed the “Park‑O‑Meter.” The device revolutionized urban parking and soon proliferated worldwide.

6 Glenn Burke

When NBA center Jason Collins came out in 2013, he was hailed as the first openly gay athlete in the four major North American leagues. Yet nearly four decades earlier, Glenn Burke quietly became MLB’s first gay player, though the media and his coaches never acknowledged it. Dodgers manager Tommy Lasorda even offered Burke $75,000 to marry a woman—a proposal he rejected, leading to a trade to the Oakland Athletics. Burke played for Oakland through the ’70s, retired in 1980, and publicly came out in 1982 via Inside Sports.

Burke’s claim to pop‑culture fame came on October 2, 1977. When Dusty Baker belted his 30th home run, Dodgers teammate Burke raised his hand in celebration. Unsure how to respond, Baker slapped Burke’s hand—creating the first documented high‑five. Burke’s frequent trips to San Francisco’s Castro District helped the gesture spread through the gay community and into mainstream sport.

5 Stanford White

Stanford White stands among the most inventive architects of America’s “Renaissance” era. As a partner at McKim, Mead & White, he oversaw iconic projects such as Madison Square Garden, the New York Public Library, Washington Square Arch, and even Nikola Tesla’s Wardenclyffe Tower laboratory.

White’s flamboyant lifestyle birthed a party tradition still seen today. At a 1895 gathering for his firm, he unveiled a massive cake, sang “Sing a Song of Sixpence,” and then revealed a scantily clad woman—Susie Johnson—who leapt from the pastry. This is the earliest recorded instance of the “stripper cake,” a staple at bachelor parties ever since.

The same soirée introduced socialite Evelyn Nesbit to White, sparking an affair that enraged her husband, Harry Thaw. In 1906, Thaw shot White dead in Madison Square Garden. The ensuing media frenzy coined the phrase “Trial of the Century,” a moniker later applied to numerous high‑profile cases.

4 Florence Lawrence

In the early 1900s, audiences flocked to theaters just to see the “Biograph Girl.” Though most didn’t know her name, Florence Lawrence starred in nearly 300 silent films, making her the first actress whose name appeared in opening credits. Her popularity eclipsed even a presidential visit; more people stopped to see her in St. Louis than when President Taft arrived months earlier.

Lawrence’s fame bought her one of the era’s first automobiles. An inventive tinkerer, she created early versions of turn signals, brake lights, and the world’s first windshield wipers. Unfortunately, she never filed patents, so her inventions entered the public domain without compensation.

A tragic studio fire in 1915 left Lawrence with a broken back, and a 1916 film left her paralyzed for months. A 1921 comeback attempt fell flat, and unable to earn from either acting or inventions, she succumbed to poverty and chronic pain, ending her life in 1938.

3 Sarah Josepha Hale

As editor of Godey’s Lady’s Book, Sarah Josepha Hale wielded more cultural influence than any other 19th‑century American woman. Her most famous poem, “Mary Had a Little Lamb,” became a nursery staple recognized worldwide.

Hale’s magazine shaped domestic trends, introducing the Christmas tree to American households through a widely circulated illustration—making the tree a national tradition. She also used her platform to champion a refined, family‑centric lifestyle inspired by Pilgrim values.

Her clout reached the political arena; she met President Abraham Lincoln and persuaded him that a national Thanksgiving holiday would promote unity. Lincoln heeded her advice, establishing Thanksgiving as a federal holiday that endures today.

2 Ziryab

Abul‑Hasan Ali Ibn Nafi, better known as Ziryab, was a ninth‑century Persian polymath who, despite beginning life as a slave, reshaped music, fashion, and hygiene across medieval Spain. He introduced a lute with a fifth bass string, an innovation that defined European stringed music for centuries, and founded a prestigious academy in Córdoba that trained generations of musicians.

As a court favorite, Ziryab set trends: he advocated seasonal wardrobes—light fabrics for summer, heavier for winter—prompting Spanish nobility to emulate his style. He popularized short, shaved hair, early forms of deodorant, and a primitive toothpaste, habits that spread throughout the Iberian elite.

Ziryab also revolutionized cuisine, bringing asparagus and other new produce to royal tables, establishing a three‑course meal structure (soup, main, dessert), and introducing crystal glassware over metal vessels. His influence on food, fashion, and music left an indelible mark on European culture.

1 Edward Bernays

Edward Bernays, nephew of Sigmund Freud, turned his insight into the human psyche into a lucrative career. His 1928 manifesto Propaganda laid the foundation for modern public relations, earning him the title “father of advertising.” Even Nazi propagandist Joseph Goebbels admired Bernays, modeling his own techniques on the book.

Bernays’ early triumphs included branding World War I for the Wilson administration as a crusade for democracy, convincing President Calvin Coolidge to host pancake breakfasts with voters, and marketing Lucky Strikes cigarettes as “torches of freedom” to women. He also popularized Dixie Cups by falsely claiming they were the only sanitary option, and helped organize the NAACP’s inaugural meeting.

His most controversial campaign was for the Beechnut packing company: he hired doctors to fabricate studies that promoted hearty breakfasts of bacon and eggs, cementing that combo in American culture. Whether remembered as a mastermind who aided Nazi propaganda or as the man who made bacon a breakfast staple, Bernays undeniably reshaped public opinion.

Since the earliest days when the fledgling movie business was inventing itself, the 10 female film trailblazers listed below have left indelible marks on both the artistry and the mechanics of storytelling on screen. They shattered conventions, pioneered techniques, and proved that women could command every facet of filmmaking.

10 Female Film Pioneers: A Century of Innovation

10. Alice Guy Blaché (1873–1968)

In 1896, Alice Guy started as a secretary at Gaumont, the French firm that built cameras and projectors. When Gaumont began producing its own pictures, she quickly rose to become the world’s first credited female director. By 1905 her prolific output earned her a supervisory role over other Gaumont directors, and she was turning out ever more ambitious works.

Her 33‑minute epic La Vie du Christ (1906) broke the norm of static, stage‑like scenes: it boasted twenty‑five sets, outdoor locations, over three hundred extras, and a pioneering pan‑shot that followed the action. After marrying Herbert Blaché, the couple relocated to the United States and opened a studio in New Jersey, then the heart of American film production.

Over the next twenty years Guy Blaché directed more than four hundred silent pictures, ranging from melodramas to comedies and action flicks, alternating between directing and producing with her husband. Her thriving business was eventually hampered by patent lawsuits from the Edison Trust, prompting a move to California. There she served as an assistant director on a few of her husband’s projects, but never again helmed a film of her own.

9. Germaine Dulac (1882–1942)

Germaine Dulac could easily be called an auteur before the term existed. As France’s second female director, she laid the groundwork for experimental cinema. In 1915 she left a feminist magazine where she had written theatre and film reviews to make daring, imaginative movies of her own.

Across more than two dozen silent films, Dulac emphasized mood and feeling, using inventive lighting, unusual camera angles, and inventive editing. Her surreal depiction of a priest’s sexual fantasies in La Coquille et le Clergyman (1928) was banned by the British Board of Film Censors, which declared, “If this film has a meaning, it is doubtless objectionable.”

In 1929 she was made an Officer of the French Legion of Honor for her contributions to cinema. The shift to sound didn’t suit her highly visual style, so she turned to documentaries and newsreels in the 1930s, focusing on everyday subjects to promote understanding. Nazi censorship during World War II ended her film‑theory publications, though she continued to safeguard many seized prints.

8. Lois Weber (1879–1939)

Lois Weber was a true creative hyphenate—director, producer, writer, and actress—long before the term became fashionable. Between 1911 and 1914 she churned out more than eighty shorts, including Suspense (1913), which employed close‑ups, three‑way split screens, and other tricks to generate tension and depict simultaneous action.

She earned the distinction of being the first American woman to direct a full‑length feature with The Merchant of Venice (1914), in which she also starred as Portia. Within two years she became the world’s highest‑paid director, praised by critics and drawing packed New York theaters at a dollar per ticket.

Weber’s boldness extended to her subjects—she tackled abortion, prostitution, and birth control. In Hypocrites (1915) she used double exposure to turn a statue of Naked Truth into a nude woman, and Where Are My Children? (1916) was banned in Pennsylvania as “not fit for decent people to see,” yet it succeeded elsewhere. The Great Depression and waning interest in socially conscious cinema led to her company’s collapse; her final film, a talkie, arrived in 1934.

7. Elinor Glyn (1864–1943)

English novelist Elinor Glyn didn’t invent sex appeal, but she proved it could sell. After penning scandalous, wildly popular romances about the upper class, she headed to Hollywood in 1920 under a £10,000 contract (over $692,000 in 2023 dollars). She soon adapted her best‑selling books for the screen, including Three Weeks (1924), His Hour (1924), and Man and Maid (1925).

Glyn left a lasting imprint on both film history and the English language with the 1927 release of It, starring Clara Bow, who became the iconic “It Girl.” Writing for Cosmopolitan, Glyn defined “It” as “that quality possessed by some few persons which draws all others with its magnetic life force.” During the Roaring Twenties, “It” became synonymous with sex, and the film’s box‑office triumph proved the term’s commercial power.

6. Mabel Normand (1892–1930)

Mabel Normand delighted audiences from both sides of the camera. After stints as an artist’s model and film extra, she joined Mack Sennett’s Keystone Kops in 1912 and quickly became a fan favorite with her signature physical comedy. She starred in more than two hundred shorts, creating memorable pieces such as Mabel’s Stratagem (1912) and Mabel’s Awful Mistake (1913).

Normand also directed ten films, most notably Mabel’s Strange Predicament (1914), which introduced Charlie Chaplin’s Little Tramp to American audiences. Chaplin reportedly learned directing from Normand, and she co‑starred with him in Tillie’s Punctured Romance, the first American feature‑length comedy.

Unfortunately, her career suffered in the mid‑1920s amid scandal‑related publicity—rumors tied her to the Fatty Arbuckle rape case, a friend’s murder, and a shooting by her chauffeur. In the final days of silent cinema she succumbed to tuberculosis at age thirty‑seven.

5. June Mathis (1887–1927)

June Mathis’s influence stretched far beyond the hundred‑plus silent pictures she penned herself. By 1920 she headed Metro Pictures’s scenario department—the studio’s sole female executive—overseeing scripts, set‑ups, and editing decisions, essentially acting as a modern‑day producer on projects like Elinor Glyn’s Three Weeks.

With a keen eye for emerging talent, Mathis cast Buster Keaton in his first feature‑length film, The Saphead (1920), and gave Rudolph Valentino his breakout role in The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse (1921), that year’s top‑grossing picture.

She continued to write such hits as Camille (1921) and secured four more lead roles for Valentino, as well as Ben‑Hur: A Tale of the Christ (1925) for Ramon Novarro. Her meteoric rise ended abruptly when a fatal heart attack claimed her life at forty.

4. Mary Pickford (1892–1979)

Born Gladys Smith in Canada, Mary Pickford grew into America’s Sweetheart. Even when early silent movies rarely credited performers, her magnetic presence made her one of the first true movie stars. In 1912 she appeared on the inaugural cover of Photoplay, and five years later she signed a contract worth $350,000 per film (over $8.1 million in 2023 dollars).

Pickford leveraged her fame to gain creative and financial control, co‑founding United Artists in 1919 with Douglas Fairbanks, D.W. Griffith, and Charlie Chaplin, often producing her own pictures. She also helped establish the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, the Motion Picture Relief Fund, and the Society of Independent Motion Picture Producers, challenging the studio monopoly.

The Academy honored her with a Best Actress Oscar for Coquette (1929), her first sound film, and bestowed an Honorary Oscar in 1976 “in recognition of her unique contributions to the film industry and the development of film as an artistic medium.”

3. Dorothy Arzner (1897–1979)

Dorothy Arzner began her career typing scripts, then progressed to reader, cutter, and editor. Her ingenuity—adding stock bullfight footage to Valentino’s Blood and Sand (1922)—helped her become the only female director working within the studio system of the era.

Arzner successfully navigated the shift from silent to sound cinema. For The Wild Party (1929) she introduced the first boom microphone, mounting it on a long pole above the camera to improve audio quality and give actors freedom of movement.

In 1933 she joined the newly formed Directors Guild of America, remaining its sole female member until Ida Lupino’s admission in 1950. Over two decades she directed more than twenty films, often focusing on complex, independent women played by stars such as Katharine Hepburn, Joan Crawford, Rosalind Russell, and Claudette Colbert. During World War II she produced training films for the Women’s Army Corps and later taught filmmaking at UCLA.

2. Marion Fairfax (1875–1970)

After modest success as a playwright, Marion Fairfax moved west in 1915 to write for the screen. Across forty‑nine films she penned comedies and dramas for luminaries like Mary Pickford, John Barrymore, Norma Talmadge, and Dorothy Gish. She also directed her script The Lying Truth (1922), tackling drug addiction, mob justice, and miners’ union rights.

Fairfax followed up the hit Sherlock Holmes (1922) with The Lost World (1925), based on Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s work and becoming one of the year’s highest‑grossing pictures. She oversaw editing, titling, and production for this pioneering feature‑length stop‑motion animation, delivering the most realistic prehistoric beasts audiences had ever seen.

While under contract with First National Pictures (later Warner Bros.), her influence extended beyond her own projects; she was frequently consulted on other productions’ quality. She retired in 1926, possibly due to ill health, yet lived another four decades.

1. Frances Marion (1888–1973)

As silent cinema matured, the screenwriter’s role evolved from sketchy scenarios to sophisticated title cards with nuanced dialogue. Former journalist Frances Marion learned the craft assisting Lois Weber, and her scripts soon attracted Mary Pickford, becoming the star’s favorite writer and lifelong friend. Together they produced Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm (1917), A Little Princess (1917), and The Love Light (1921), the latter of which Marion also directed at Pickford’s urging. By 1926 she commanded $3,000 a week (nearly $50,000 in 2023) for adaptations and original stories.

When talkies arrived, Marion supplied the dialogue, penning Greta Garbo’s first spoken lines in Anna Christie (1930) and winning Academy Awards for The Big House (1930) and The Champ (1931). Her enduring legacy includes Dinner at Eight (1933), Shirley Temple’s Poor Little Rich Girl (1936), and The Good Earth (1937).

Marion even authored a handbook, How to Write and Sell Film Stories (1937). As studio power grew and her creative control waned, she broke her MGM contract to freelance. In her 1972 autobiography Off with Their Heads! A Serio‑Comic Tale of Hollywood, she remarked, “I hope my story shows one thing—how many women gave me real aid when I stood at the crossroads.”

Motor racing traces its roots back to the very first motorised automobiles. In those early days, the sport looked nothing like the high‑tech spectacles we see today. Cars were massive, fuel‑hungry beasts with modest power, often unreliable and prone to breaking down at a moment’s notice. Many lacked even the most basic comforts such as windshields or proper cockpits. Yet a daring generation of young, fearless drivers pushed these machines to their limits in pursuit of glory and the thrill of speed. As the sport matured, it underwent dramatic transformations, faced legal constraints, and eventually fell under the watchful eye of governing bodies that enforce strict rules and regulations.

10 Historic Car Races That Shaped Motor Racing

10 Gordon Bennett Races

The first truly international race series ever conceived was the brainchild of the flamboyant James Gordon Bennett Jr., a millionaire publisher of the New York Herald. In 1899, he offered a trophy to the Automobile Club de France, stipulating that it be contested annually by automobile clubs from various European nations. A unique rule required every component of a competing vehicle to be manufactured in the country it represented, wheels included. The inaugural race in 1900 ran from Paris to Lyon and was won by Frenchman Fernand Charron behind the wheel of a Panhard‑Levassor. Between 1900 and 1905, six races were held; four were sprint‑style city‑to‑city events, while the 1903 and 1905 editions were circuit races at Athy in Ireland and the Circuit d’Auvergne in France. This series also marks the earliest recorded instance of organised circuit racing, a format that later evolved into the Grand Prix after 1905. France dominated the Gordon Bennett contests, securing four victories, while Britain’s Napier claimed a win in 1902 and Germany’s Mercedes triumphed in 1903.

9 Vanderbilt Cup

While a myriad of independent racing series were sprouting across Europe in the first decade of the twentieth century, American auto‑enthusiast William Kissam Vanderbilt Jr. wanted to spark a similar boom stateside. In 1904 he launched the Vanderbilt Cup, an international competition open to entrants from any nation. The race’s announcement sparked political and legal controversy, as many tried to block its realization, but Vanderbilt persisted. The Cup quickly became the first major trophy in American auto racing history. Early editions (1904‑1910) were held on Long Island and delivered some of the era’s most exhilarating contests. Iconic early winners included the Locomobile and the Lozier. After 1910 the venue shifted to Wisconsin, then Santa Monica, and later San Francisco, before the United States entered World War I in 1916, causing the race’s suspension. A revival came in 1936 when George Washington Vanderbilt III sponsored a 300‑mile event at the newly built Roosevelt Raceway, but lackluster competition and a dull format led to its abandonment after just two years. Another revival occurred from 1960‑1968 before the Cup merged with the Bridgehampton Sports Car Races.

8 Targa Florio

One of the world’s oldest endurance road races, the Targa Florio was founded in 1906 by Italian racer Vincenzo Florio. The competition wound around the 72‑kilometre Circuito Piccolo delle Madonie, traversing the rugged Sicilian mountains. The first edition featured three laps of treacherous, winding roads, with Alessandro Cagno taking the victory. By the mid‑1920s the Targa Florio had eclipsed both the 24 Hours of Le Mans and the Mille Miglia, which were not yet established. In 1955 the race joined the FIA World Sportscar Championship, attracting legends such as Juan Manuel Fangio, Stirling Moss, Tazio Nuvolari and Alfieri Maserati. The event’s final world‑championship edition came in 1973, won by a Porsche 911 prototype, and it continued as a national race until 1977, when a fatal crash forced its cessation. Porsche later honoured the event by naming its iconic Targa model after the race.

7 Peking‑Paris Race

The legendary Peking‑Paris challenge originated from a daring editorial in the Paris newspaper Le Matin, which asked manufacturers whether a man could traverse the globe by automobile. The 1907 contest spanned two continents and covered roughly 15,000 km, a feat unimaginable when most still relied on horse‑drawn carriages. Forty teams entered, but only five actually shipped their machines to Peking (today’s Beijing): a Dutch Spyker, a French Contal three‑wheeler, two French De Dion cars, and an Italian 120 hp Itala driven by Prince Scipione Borghese. Each car carried a journalist as a passenger to chronicle the journey. The route followed the telegraph line, exposing crews to extreme hardships: wooden bridges collapsed, quicksand trapped vehicles, and some cars were refuelled with benzene. The Contal 3‑wheeler succumbed to the Gobi Desert and withdrew, while the Itala endured a broken bridge and rope‑hauling. After months of perilous adventure, the Itala crossed the finish line in Paris ahead of the Spyker. The race shattered doubts about the automobile’s viability and has been re‑enacted several times, most recently with 126 classic cars celebrating its centenary.

6 New York‑Paris Race

Following the Peking‑Paris triumph, the 1908 New York‑Paris race was conceived as the ultimate proof‑of‑concept for the automobile. Six cars from four nations set off from Times Square on a frosty February morning. With few paved roads, competitors often rode balloon‑tired machines atop railway tracks for hundreds of miles when no road existed. The original plan called for a trek to Alaska, with a ship across the Bering Strait, but brutal Alaskan cold forced a reroute through Seattle and a trans‑Pacific shipment to Yokohama, Japan. In Japan, the drivers encountered astonished locals who had never seen a car. From there the route continued north to Vladivostok, then across Siberia’s tundra, where progress was measured in feet per hour. After a grueling three‑continent odyssey, the competitors finally reached Europe. The American Thomas‑Flyer arrived in Paris on 30 July, four days after the German Protos, but the Germans were penalised 30 days for skipping the Alaskan leg, awarding the victory to the Thomas‑Flyer. Its driver, George Schuster, was inducted into the Automotive Hall of Fame in 2010.

5 Indianapolis 500

Dubbed the “Greatest Spectacle in Racing,” the Indianapolis 500 debuted in 1911 and remains an annual May tradition. The race takes place on the iconic oval of the Indianapolis Motor Speedway in Indiana, covering 500 miles (200 laps). The inaugural winner, Ray Harroun, piloted a Marmon Model‑32 “Wasp” and famously completed the entire event without a riding mechanic—a bold move that sparked controversy. The prize purse, $50,000 in 1912, attracted global manufacturers, including European marques such as Fiat and Peugeot. Over the years the event’s engine regulations shifted: 3‑liter limits (1920‑22), 2‑liter (1923‑25), and 1.5‑liter (1926‑29). After both World Wars, the Speedway fell into disrepair, overgrown with weeds. Entrepreneur Tony Hulman revived the venue and the Indy 500, ushering in a golden age for American motor sport.

4 24 Hours of Le Mans

The 24 Hours of Le Mans stands as the oldest and most prestigious endurance race still contested today. First held to test the reliability and efficiency of production cars on the Sarthe circuit in France, the event quickly attracted every major marque. The 1960s saw fierce rivalries, most famously between Henry Ford’s determination to defeat Ferrari and the Italian giant’s dominance. Iconic winners included the Ford Mark IV, Ferrari 250 GTO, Porsche 917, and Chevrolet Corvette. Le Mans also introduced the famous “Le Mans start,” where drivers sprinted to their cars, jumped in, started engines, and drove off without assistance—a practice later banned for safety reasons. Modern editions see competitors covering more than 5,000 km, roughly eighteen times the distance of a typical Formula 1 Grand Prix.

3 Mille Miglia

The Mille Miglia, launched in 1927 by Italian enthusiast Count Aymo Maggi, was arguably the last great road‑race of its era. Starting and finishing in Brescia, the event covered a thousand miles of Italy’s scenic countryside, showcasing the nation’s finest grand‑tourer marques—Maserati, Isotta‑Fraschini, Fiat, Ferrari, and Alfa Romeo. The race met a tragic end in 1957 after a fatal crash that claimed Ferrari driver Alfonso de Portago, his navigator Edmund Nelson, and nine spectators, including five children. The catastrophe led to the event’s cancellation, marking the close of an iconic chapter in motor‑sport history.

2 Monaco Grand Prix

The Monaco Grand Prix, first run in 1929, is arguably the most glamorous and prestigious stop on the Formula 1 calendar, forming part of the sport’s unofficial “Triple Crown” alongside Le Mans and the Indy 500. Unlike earlier Grand Prix events held on purpose‑built tracks or in the countryside, Monaco’s race unfolds on the narrow, twisting streets of Monte Carlo, complete with a tunnel and tight hairpins that test a car’s handling above all else. Early winners were dominated by agile Bugattis, later supplanted by the powerful Alfa Romeo 8C Monza in the 1930s. Ayrton Senna, widely regarded as one of the greatest drivers ever, claimed six victories at Monaco, including an unprecedented streak of five consecutive wins from 1989 to 1993.

1 Carrera Panamericana

The Carrera Panamericana emerged in 1950 as a spectacular Mexican road race designed to showcase the newly completed Panamerican Highway. The inaugural edition spanned nine stages over five days, covering roughly 3,300 km from the country’s northern border to its southern tip. The route’s extreme elevation changes—rising from 328 feet to 10,500 feet above sea level—forced teams to adjust carburettors for thin air. Winners Hershel McGriff and Ray Elliott piloted an Oldsmobile, while later races saw successes from the Mercedes‑Benz “Gullwing” 300 SL and the Porsche 550 Spyder. Porsche’s dominance in various classes highlighted the reliability of the VW‑based Beetle lineage. After a tragic crash at Le Mans in 1955, the race—along with other dangerous road events—was discontinued. It was revived in 1988 by Eduardo de León Camargo and continues today as a celebrated historic motorsport festival.

These ten legendary contests not only pushed the limits of engineering and human courage but also laid the foundation for the modern motorsport world we adore today.

As far as Europeans are concerned, life in Australia started in earnest when it was turned into a convenient place to dump criminals who would otherwise have been taking up space in British jails and breathing important European air better reserved for respectable citizens. (Never mind the Aboriginals.) So, who were these ne’er‑do‑well Europeans sent to Australia under sentences of transportation? They were some rather bizarre—and ultimately influential—people.

10 George Barrington: Prince Of Pickpockets

Irish‑born George Barrington started down the wrong road when he stabbed a fellow student with a penknife at age 16. After that, he fell in with a group that taught him everything he’d need to know to make a living as a pickpocket and con man.

Able to mingle with the best of them, Barrington headed to London and fell in with the upper class and elite, all the while picking their pockets and stealing whatever wasn’t nailed down. His most notorious crimes included posing as a clergyman and removing the diamonds from the clothing of a member of the Knights of the Garter. His most audacious crime was trying to steal a diamond‑encrusted snuff box (which would be worth several million dollars today) from a Russian count, who’d been given the treasure by Catherine the Great. Barrington was arrested fairly often but managed to either talk himself out of his sentence or get it considerably reduced. In 1790, he finally ended up at the Old Bailey, and even though he reportedly moved the jury to tears, he was sentenced to seven years’ transportation.

He disembarked in Sydney in September 1791 and spent a year laboring on a Toongabbie farm. Apparently having given up his thieving ways, he was given a conditional pardon and, perhaps strangely, was assigned work duty standing guard over crucial supplies for the new government. He was a constable by 1796, but by 1800, his life seemed to have taken another turn. Now declared officially insane, he left his post, was issued a pension, and died four years later.

That’s not quite the end of the story, however. Barrington’s name was attached to some of early British Australia’s finest historical literature. He was credited with writing The History of New South Wales, A Voyage to New South Wales, and even The Impartial and Circumstantial Narrative of the Present State of Botany Bay. The books were massive best sellers, and Barrington’s name was attached to even more publications that proved to be enduringly popular—even though he had nothing to do with actually writing them. After all, who wants to read a dull account of some hot, dusty continent when they could read an exciting, fact‑filled account of a mysterious new land told by one of the world’s finest gentleman pickpockets? A lot of the books’ facts were taken from other, legitimate sources, like journals written by others who had been a part of the First Fleet, and it mostly started with a bookseller named Henry Delahay Symonds. He’s the one who appropriated Barrington’s name and larger‑than‑life past and used it to create the popular image that contemporary British saw of Australia.

9 William ‘Billy’ Blue: The Old Commodore

On February 24, 1829, The Australian ran a column that described what a visitor would see if they were to walk through the streets of Sydney. It highlighted all the sights and scenes, the buildings, the architecture, the shops, the signs of wilderness . . . and the presence of Billy Blue, an elderly man who brought smiles to the faces of all he met.

US‑born William Blue served on the side of the British during the Revolutionary War, earning his freedom from slavery. By the mid‑1790s, he was living in London and laboring as a candymaker. He was convicted of stealing sugar in October 1796. His sentence was seven years’ transportation. After serving more than four of those years on convict ships, he ended up in Sydney.

There, he met and married, worked as an oyster seller and a laborer, and later became a waterfront constable and watchman. Blue was incredibly popular with everyone who knew him and was described as “whimsical.” His home, known as Billy Blue’s Cottage, became something of a landmark, and when he was granted more land, he expanded his business to include the operation of a ferry, which quickly became a fleet of ferries. That gave him the nickname “The Old Commodore,” and it also gave him some other new opportunities. In 1818, he was convicted of smuggling rum. Even though he claimed that he’d simply found the rum floating in the water, he was sentenced to a year in prison, and his titles were taken away.

By the time Blue got out, a couple of others were trying to move in on his ferry service. He appealed to the government for the right to run his ferry, and he won. After his wife’s death, he grew more and more eccentric, often wearing the remnants of an old naval uniform and boarding ships to act as the official welcoming party for those who’d just arrived. He continued to have his issues with the law, once found harboring a fugitive and once barely avoiding prison when he was found guilty of killing a boy who had been tormenting him. Blue had thrown a rock at the boy.

Blue died in 1834, leaving behind a legacy of amusing anecdotes. Several streets in Sydney are named for him, along with his old ferry terminus, which is still in use. Portraits of him still hang in libraries throughout Sydney, solidifying his position as one of Australia’s most eccentric convicts.

8 Isaac Nichols: Postmaster‑Thief

Born in England in 1770, Isaac Nichols had quite a record when it came to breaking the law, and a 1790 conviction for stealing would earn him the popular sentence of seven years’ transportation to New South Wales. When his sentence was served, he was granted some land, where he oversaw some of the convicts serving out their own sentences. Only two years later, he was in court again, this time on the charge of receiving stolen property. Even though he was found guilty, several members of the trial believed that he was innocent and that the evidence against him was perjury. They referred the matter to the higher English court, and a few years later, Nichols was granted a full pardon.

In the meantime, there were some rebellions and reorganizations of the social structure, with Nichols finding himself appointed assistant to the naval officer and a superintendent of public works. It was around 1809 when he decided that he wanted to do something about the mail system—or lack thereof—in Australia. There was little in place to keep people from claiming mail that wasn’t theirs, so Nichols went on to set up the first post office.

Nichols ran the post out of his own house, which was on George Street in Sydney (pictured above). When the mail came in, he’d run the names of all the recipients in The Sydney Gazette, letting them know they’d received something. It was up to them to pick up the mail—and pay him his handling fee of one shilling. Packages cost more, and if the mail was for a person of significant importance, Nichols would deliver it personally. He retired in 1814 and died in 1819. Upon his death, Nichols was remembered by The Gazette not only for his contributions to the realm of public service, but also for the advancements he made in the areas of Australian gardening.

7 Daniel Herbert: Rogue Stonemason

Born in 1802, Daniel Herbert’s crimes were severe enough to earn him a death sentence. In 1827, he was accused and found guilty of highway robbery. Part of what made that crime so particularly severe was the “fear and danger” that went along with it. He’d already been convicted of breaking into a home and stealing, and he and his accomplices pleaded guilty, receiving a death sentence that was later commuted to exile in Australia for life. He was dropped off in Hobart Town in December 1827.

Herbert was assigned to the Engineer’s Department and made frequent appearances before the magistrate for unapproved work absences and drunkenness. In 1835, he was assigned to work on a bridge that’s since become one of the most enigmatic structures from the era. The Ross Bridge in Tasmania was nominated by Engineering Heritage Tasmania as a national landmark, largely because of the ornate carvings that Herbert created. From a distance, it’s a rather unassuming, small bridge, made of three arches that stretch across the river. Up close, each stone is carved with a series of Celtic designs and caricatures, likely of people Herbert knew. Historians have scoured other 17th‑ and 18th‑century architecture for anything comparable, to no avail. Official records make no mention of the carvings; they simply note the bridge’s construction. The keystone is typically the only carved stone, but Herbert’s work on the Ross Bridge remains a striking example of convict artistry.

Engineering Heritage Tasmania suggests that Captain William Turner may have approved the carvings, seeing the project as an opportunity for stonemason convicts to express themselves, reaffirm their humanity, and leave something beautiful behind.

6 Richard Browne: Convict Artist

If you’ve seen any early art depicting Aboriginal peoples, you’ve probably encountered Richard Browne’s work. It’s considered one of the finest examples not only of colonial art but also of how Europeans portrayed the native population.

Browne was born in Dublin in 1771 and was around 40 years old when he was sentenced to exile in Australia. His exact crime isn’t known, but it’s thought to involve forgery. He arrived on Australian shores in 1811 and soon found himself in court again, ultimately being sent to the secondary penal colony in Newcastle. There, he began painting, and his work appeared most famously in a manuscript titled “Select Specimens From Nature of the Birds and Animals of New South Wales,” giving Europeans their first glimpse of the continent’s exotic fauna. A commanding officer in Newcastle recognized Browne’s talent and helped launch his artistic career.

Browne served out his Newcastle sentence and was released in 1817, after which he moved to Sydney and began selling his watercolors. His most sought‑after subjects were Aboriginal people in their natural environments, often depicted with weapons and a caricature‑like quality that reinforced British notions of “civilizing” the natives. His portraits were also used by pseudoscientists of the era, providing visual support for phrenologists who claimed Aboriginals were a lesser species.

5 Zephaniah Williams: Chartist And Coal Baron

In the 1830s, the Chartist movement surged, demanding greater equality for Britain’s working class. Industrialisation in Wales brought cholera, typhus, and hazardous working conditions. By the decade’s end, workers had had enough. On November 4, 1839, an armed uprising at the Westgate Hotel in Monmouthshire left 22 dead and many wounded. At the head of the rebellion were three middle‑class leaders: tailor and ex‑mayor John Frost, actor‑watchmaker William Jones, and geologist‑miner Zephaniah Williams. The trio were found guilty of treason. Though the sentence carried death, they were instead sentenced to transportation, likely to avoid further unrest.

By 1840, the men were in Hobart and Williams was sent to Port Arthur, where he joined a fledgling coal‑mining operation. After a failed escape attempt that earned him 16 weeks of solitary confinement, he developed a method for making iron castings. He later defused a riot at an insane asylum and earned additional freedoms. Following another escape attempt, he returned to coal mining, eventually striking out on his own. He founded the Triumph mine, amassing over 2,000 acres, building camps, tramways, and miners’ homes, and importing workers from England and Wales. Before Williams, coal production in Australia was monopolised, a situation the Chartists had opposed back in Wales. He received a free pardon in 1857 and chose to remain in Tasmania, a fitting end for a man who once faced execution.

4 John Knatchbull: Moral Insanity

A new land offered a fresh start for its justice system, and English‑born John Knatchbull became an unlikely figure in defining legal defenses for murder. Likely born in 1793, he was the son of a man who married three times and fathered roughly twenty children. He joined the navy, retiring without a pension after using it to settle debts. In 1824, under the alias John Fitch, he was arrested and convicted of “stealing with force and arms,” receiving a fourteen‑year transportation sentence that began in 1825.

Knatchbull’s time in the colonies was tumultuous. He earned praise for arresting runaways but was later found guilty of check forgery, receiving a death sentence that was commuted to seven years’ transportation to Norfolk Island. While en route, he acted as a double agent, helping suppress a mutiny that left him partially paralysed and 29 mutineers sentenced to death, with Knatchbull himself named as the chief mutineer.

Returned to Sydney to finish his original sentence, Knatchbull was arrested again in 1844 for murdering an elderly widow, Ellen Jamieson. He confessed, pleading a defence of moral insanity—a claim that he possessed full mental faculties but was morally insane. The court rejected this novel defence, and he was found guilty. He claimed the Devil compelled him, and after a failed appeal concerning the judge’s failure to order his body’s dissection, he was hanged on February 13.

3 Sir Henry Browne Hayes: Fun And Freemasonry

Irish‑born Henry Browne Hayes made several notable contributions to early Australian history, most famously founding the first Masonic lodge on Australian soil. Whether he possessed legitimate authority to do so remains debated, but the meeting he held on May 14, 1803, is widely recognised as the birth of Freemasonry in Australia. He is also remembered for building Vaucluse House, later a national monument and home to W.C. Wentworth. The property, famously snake‑free thanks to turf from Ireland used as a reptile repellent, was acquired by the Australian government in 1910 as a memorial to Wentworth.

Before these achievements, Hayes’s life was a series of bizarre episodes. Originally a captain in the South Cork Militia, he later became a sheriff and was knighted in 1790. By 1797, a widower with children, he resorted to kidnapping a Quaker heiress, Mary Pike, forcing her into marriage. The family intervened, placing a bounty on Hayes. He vanished for three years before surrendering for trial, where he was found guilty and sentenced to death—a sentence later commuted to life transportation to Australia.

Arriving in New South Wales in 1802, Hayes quickly found trouble, harassing the ship’s surgeon and later being linked to a 1804 uprising. After serving his sentence, he was sent to the coal mines of Newcastle. He finally received a pardon in 1809, returned to Ireland in 1812, and died in 1832.

2 Thomas Griffiths Wainewright: Poisoner, Forger, Portrait Painter

Born in 1794 and raised by his grandfather, Thomas Griffiths Wainewright moved in the same circles as William Blake and Mary Wollstonecraft. By the time he married in 1817, he was living beyond his means. An accomplished artist whose work had been exhibited at the Royal Academy, he turned to forging signatures to sustain his lavish lifestyle.

His scheme unraveled when three family members—an uncle, a sister‑in‑law, and a mother‑in‑law—died under suspicious circumstances, each leaving him substantial inheritances. The most incriminating episode involved his wife’s half‑sister, Helen Abercrombie; Wainewright took out an insurance policy on her, and she died shortly thereafter. He fled to France for over five years before being arrested during a 1837 visit to London. Although the court could not directly link him to the deaths, they uncovered his forgery, sufficient to secure a life transportation sentence.

Sent to Van Diemen’s Land (now Tasmania), he first joined a road gang before being transferred to a hospital, where he began painting portraits. His subjects ranged from fellow settlers and pioneers to a lieutenant‑governor and business magnates. Today, his portraits reside in national galleries worldwide, preserving the likenesses of many key figures in Australia’s development. Wainewright’s notoriety extended beyond his crimes; Oscar Wilde and Charles Dickens referenced him as a quintessential villain.

1 Laurence Hynes Halloran: Bigamist Preacher, Public School Founder

The challenge in writing about Laurence Hynes Halloran is deciding where to begin. In 1825, a petition was submitted to the Australian government and all appropriate councils, calling for the establishment of the Public Free Grammar School in Sydney. Authored by Halloran, DD, professor of the classics and mathematics, the petition proclaimed his desire to provide Sydney’s youth with educational opportunities, citing the kindness he’d received in the colony as motivation to give back.

Halloran’s path to Australia was anything but straightforward. An Irish orphan born in 1765, he joined the navy and was first jailed for the stabbing death of a fellow midshipman in 1783. Acquitted the following year, he moved to Exeter, married, and ran a school—likely before any background checks existed. Charged with “immorality” in 1796, he attempted to become an ordained minister but failed. Undeterred, he re‑entered the navy as a chaplain, serving at the Cape of Good Hope. After clashing with the commanding general, he fabricated a series of false claims, was convicted, and sentenced to death—later commuted to life transportation to Australia.

Upon arrival in Sydney, Halloran established his first school. His personal life was turbulent: separated from his first wife, he reunited with another family, including children and a mother who may have been his own niece. He endured numerous defamation suits, financial ruin, and even a prison term for debt. After serving his sentence, he petitioned again for the public school, which opened in November 1825. However, a March 1826 edition of The Sydney Gazette highlighted shortcomings, accusing Halloran of chronic drunkenness, swearing, and student fights. By October, the school’s operation was suspended; Halloran was incarcerated again in November, prompting a restart of the school after his release. He later launched a newspaper—more a personal pamphlet than a true publication—featuring his own articles and reports on his legal battles.

When his newspaper failed, Halloran briefly served as Sydney’s coroner, only to be removed after threatening to publish further articles about an archdeacon. He died in 1831, apparently never learning the lessons he so often preached.

10 scandalous queens have proven that well‑behaved women rarely make history. Across centuries, queens, rulers, and empresses broke every rule to claim power, influence, and authority, forever altering the world’s trajectory.

10 scandalous queens: A Brief Overview

10 Queen Ranavalona I: Madagascar

Queen Ranavalona I of Madagascar wasn’t dubbed the “mad monarch” without reason. Rumored to have poisoned her husband to claim the throne, she launched a ruthless campaign against anyone who refused to abandon Christianity during her 33‑year reign. Those who resisted were thrown from cliffs, dismembered, or scalded in a gruesome fashion.

Determined to keep Madagascar free from European colonial rule, she lured foreigners to join the Malagasy cause, only to slaughter them in a blood‑soaked spectacle.

After Ranavalona’s death, her feeble successors could do little as Christian missionaries returned with renewed vigor. Three decades later, the final monarch was unceremoniously exiled, and Madagascar fell under French colonial control.

During Africa’s gradual colonisation, the fierce yet sacrilegious Ranavalona managed to keep foreign domination at bay and today stands as a symbol of patriotism in Madagascar.

9 Irene Of Athens: Byzantine Empire

Irene of Athens didn’t merely love power; she went to extraordinary lengths to keep it all for herself. During the great theological schism of the eighth century, Queen Regent Irene seized the Byzantine throne, overturning her husband Leo IV’s “no icons” stance and igniting widespread outrage. She also improved diplomatic ties between the Roman Church and the Orthodox Church.

Even after orchestrating sweeping doctrinal changes, Irene’s ambition remained fixed on the throne. After a turbulent decade sharing power with her son Constantine VI, Irene displayed her ruthless nature by having her son’s eyes gouged out.

She adopted the title of “emperor” and minted coins bearing her name. Nevertheless, Irene was overthrown five years later in 802 by those unwilling to accept a woman on the Byzantine throne, and she died in exile.

Despite her downfall, Irene is remembered for restoring the veneration of icons in the Eastern Roman Empire and is revered as a saint in the Greek Orthodox Church.

8 Queen Nefertiti: Egypt

Ancient Egypt’s famed Queen Nefertiti is legendary for sparking massive cultural upheaval when she and her husband, Pharaoh Amenhotep IV, completely overhauled the empire’s religious framework.

The shrewd Nefertiti held equal footing with the king as they replaced all Egyptian deities, including the chief god Amen, with Aten, the “Sun god,” converting Egypt to monotheism.

They renamed themselves Akhenaten and Neferneferuaten‑Nefertiti and erected a new city dedicated to Aten, boldly defying traditional religious conventions.

Powerful and influential, Nefertiti is believed to have been more eager than Akhenaten to usher in sun worship, nearly achieving divine status throughout the kingdom.

Although religious tides later reverted to the old pantheon after her reign, Nefertiti will forever be celebrated as the pioneer of one of Egypt’s most significant religious revolutions.

7 Queen Didda: Kashmir

When the thirst for power runs unchecked, the line between rational love and authority blurs. In Queen Didda of Kashmir’s case, she eliminated her own grandsons to claim sovereignty.

Fluctuating between benevolence and cruelty, Didda dominated Kashmir’s monarchy for most of the 10th century. The cunning queen seized full administrative control during her husband Ksemagupta’s reign, eventually becoming queen regent for her son and grandsons.

Unwilling to remain a mere adviser, she disposed of all three grandsons using medieval witchcraft and torture, then ruled as monarch for 23 years. The magnitude of Didda’s authority is evident from the coinage of the period, which bears both her name and Ksemagupta’s.

Didda may have been ambitious and ruthless, but she secured the longevity of her dynasty. The region still remembers her as one of its greatest rulers.

6 Queen Nandi: Zulu Empire

For anyone curious about what women with “loose morals” could achieve, Queen Nandi provides the perfect answer. She was the driving force behind the birth of the Zulu Empire.

When Nandi, a Langeni tribe member, was impregnated by Zulu Chief Senzangakhona in the 1700s, tribal elders protested. After giving birth to Shaka, Nandi was relegated to the status of Senzangakhona’s third wife, enduring mockery and ridicule.

Undeterred by the humiliation, Nandi raised Shaka into a fierce warrior who became Zulu chief in 1815. She assumed the title of queen mother, known as Ndlorukazi (“The Great She‑Elephant”).

In classic noir fashion, she wreaked havoc on those who mistreated her and Shaka. Since Shaka remained unmarried, Nandi stayed the power behind the Zulu throne for the rest of her life.

5 Julia Agrippina: Rome

Amid the sea of royal men in the Julio‑Claudian Empire, Julia Agrippina (also known as Agrippina the Younger) was an “emperor maker.” Yet she wasn’t satisfied with merely producing heirs; she craved direct rule.

When Emperor Claudius’s wife Messalina became entangled in an adultery scandal, the power vacuum for the Roman empress opened wide. In a bold and incestuous maneuver, the cunning Agrippina seduced her uncle Claudius to become his fourth wife.

Agrippina persuaded Claudius to name her son Nero—her offspring from a previous marriage—his heir, and she arranged a marriage between Nero and Octavia, Claudius’s daughter with Messalina. Adopting the title “Augusta,” she maintained a firm grip on political and domestic affairs, seeing herself as co‑ruler.

After Claudius allegedly died from poisoned food—an act many attribute to Agrippina—Nero ascended to the throne, reshaping the Roman Empire. However, her son eventually grew tired of her omnipresence, leading to her assassination.

Nonetheless, during an era dominated by male authority, Agrippina proved remarkably influential, earning a reputation as one of the most powerful women of the Julio‑Claudian period.

4 Empress Theodora: Byzantine Empire

Empress Theodora’s early life was far from aristocratic; it was downright scandalous. As a young performer, she gained notoriety for her daring rendition of Leda and the Swan, stripping down to the bare minimum onstage.

Her fate changed when she married Justinian I, heir to the Byzantine throne. Though childless, Theodora became Justinian’s equal partner in power, even having an oath of allegiance sworn to her name.

Theodora was a master at eliminating threats to her position, yet she also garnered support for her advocacy of Monophysitism. She established houses for prostitutes, championed women’s marriage and dowry rights, and expelled brothel keepers from the empire.

Today, Theodora is honored as a saint in the Eastern Orthodox Church, commemorated on November 14. She remains an enigmatic figure—part actress, part shrewd empress, part saint—who lived her life with theatrical flair.

3 Isabella Of France: Queen Of England

Married to the homosexual Edward II, Queen Isabella of England was sidelined in favor of the king’s favorites, Piers Gaveston and Hugh Despenser the Younger. Amid this neglect, Isabella bore Edward’s children, including future King Edward III.

Suppressing years of frustration, Isabella’s emotions erupted into a scandalous affair with exiled traitor Lord Roger Mortimer in 1325. Her fury transformed into a burning desire for vengeance as she invaded England, usurped the throne, and acted as queen regent for Edward III.

Isabella even orchestrated the brutal murder of Edward II while he was captive. However, when Edward III came of age, he dethroned his mother. She spent her final years in retirement, passing away 28 years later.

Despite her downfall, Isabella’s ruthless actions were not in vain. Her compassionate son, Edward III, later ruled England for an impressive 50 years.

2 Queen Fredegund: Merovingian Frankish Empire

Through a series of assassinations, Queen Fredegund reshaped the Merovingian dynasty in the fifth century. Rising from obscurity to become King Chilperic’s wife, she orchestrated the murder of Queen Galswintha and sent Queen Audovera to a convent.

When Galswintha’s sister Brunhilde, Fredegund’s longtime foe, swore vengeance, Fredegund mercilessly killed Brunhilde’s husband and sisters. She also slaughtered all of Chilperic’s other children, ensuring her bloodline occupied the throne.

With Chilperic’s death in 587, their infant son Clotar II ascended, and Fredegund rose to the occasion, battling rebellions and maintaining the kingdom as queen regent.

After Fredegund’s death in 597, Clotar continued her legacy of assassination, eliminating Brunhilde and her descendants, ushering in two decades of peace in the region.

1 Princess Olga: Kiev

In a classic tale of vengeance from the 10th century, Princess Olga of Kiev played the role of Prince Igor’s widowed spouse with ruthless flair. When Igor was murdered by the Drevlyane tribe, the vengeful Olga settled scores in a spectacularly brutal manner, murdering two high‑ranking Drevlyane delegations and ingeniously burning the capital using a Trojan‑horse‑like tactic.

Her powerful, outrageous, and ruthless image of female vengeance cemented her place in public memory. Beyond revenge, Olga reformed governmental structures and reclaimed lost territories.

Olga also harbored Christian ambitions, traveling to Constantinople, adopting the Christian name Helena, and becoming Kiev’s first Christian ruler. Her influence paved the way for Christianity’s eventual establishment in Kiev, and she is venerated as a saint in the Russian Orthodox Church today.

Many of us grew up glued to Westerns, watching heroic figures gallop across the screen while the vast majority of those on screen were white. Yet the real frontier was a kaleidoscope of cultures, and scholars now estimate that roughly one in four cowhands were Black. In this roundup of the ten most remarkable black cowpunchers, we’ll explore how they broke broncos, delivered mail, captured outlaws, and even invented new rodeo tricks. These are the 10 African American legends who helped shape the Old West.

10 African American Cowboys: An Overview

10 Addison Jones

Dubbed “the most noted Negro cowboy that ever topped off a horse,” Addison Jones earned fame for his uncanny talent at breaking wild broncos—a perilous art that required a rider to cling on as the animal bucked wildly, often tossing the rider for good. While most men quit this grueling work in their thirties, Addison rode on until he was seventy, seemingly able to read a horse’s thoughts simply by meeting its gaze. He was equally adept at riding, roping, and driving cattle, making him a true triple‑threat on the range.

Historian J. Evetts Haley once described one of Addison’s signature roping feats: he would cinch a rope tightly around his hips, herd a horse into a corral corner or open pasture, then at full gallop lasso the animal around its neck. Where another rider might be dragged to death, Addison’s sheer will and rope‑hand skill would flatten the beast onto the ground, leaving onlookers in awe.

Local lore from Roswell, New Mexico, tells of the day Addison married: every nearby ranch sent a gift, but each chose the same present—nineteen cooking stoves—leaving the newlyweds with a mountain of metal. Though little is known about his private life, his prowess earned him a mention in the folk song “Whose Old Cow?” Unfortunately, the song’s lyrics contain dated racial slurs, so it has largely fallen out of the modern repertoire.

9 Mary Fields

Better known as “Stagecoach Mary,” Mary Fields was a force of nature in Montana’s rugged high country. She boasted that a single punch could knock any man out, and newspaper accounts of the era claimed she broke more noses than any other resident of central Montana. Always armed with a six‑shooter tucked beneath her apron, Mary was as comfortable with a rifle as she was with a hammer, and the town of Cascade even declared her birthday a school holiday.

Born into slavery in Tennessee, Mary earned her freedom after the Civil War and later worked aboard the famed steamboat Robert E Lee during its legendary race against the Natchez, where crews even tossed ham and bacon into the boilers to boost pressure. By 1885 she had moved to Cascade to work for the nuns of St. Peter’s Convent, handling heavy labor such as hauling supplies, carpentry, and stonemasonry. One of her most celebrated moments came when wolves besieged her supply wagon at night; she stood guard with her revolver until dawn, protecting the cargo.

Mary’s fiery temperament eventually led to her dismissal by the local bishop, but she quickly rebounded by winning a mail‑carrier contract at age sixty—making her only the second woman ever hired by the U.S. Postal Service. Beyond the badge, she tended a garden, gifted bouquets to the local baseball team, and even babysat future Hollywood star Gary Cooper. After retiring, she attempted to open a restaurant but gave away meals to those in need, and when her house burned in 1912 the whole town rebuilt it for her. She died in 1914 from liver failure, leaving behind a legacy of grit and generosity.

8 Charlie Willis

Charlie Willis entered the world enslaved in Austin, Texas, in 1847, but rose to prominence as a bronco‑busting virtuoso and seasoned cattle drover. At eighteen he began taming wild horses for the Morris Ranch in Bartlett, and by twenty‑three he had married Laura Davis, together raising four sons and three daughters. From age twenty‑four onward, he traversed the legendary Chisholm Trail—over a thousand miles of dusty prairie—transporting cattle to Kansas railheads.

Charlie’s most enduring claim to fame is the folk tune “Good‑bye, Old Paint.” Preserved today at the American Folklife Center of the Library of Congress, the song was first collected in 1947 by musicologist John Lomax, who recorded fiddle player Jess Morris performing it. Although the tune was initially credited to Morris, Lomax later clarified that Charlie had taught the lyrics to the younger musician. The title “Old Paint” supposedly honored Charlie’s trusted horse on the Chisholm Trail.

Charlie lived a long life, passing away in 1930 and being laid to rest beside his Bartlett property. His contributions to cowboy music and trail‑blazing remain celebrated by historians of Western culture.

7 Isom Dart

The historical record on Isom Dart is murky. Some accounts paint him as a notorious rustler, while others portray him as an ordinary rancher who crossed paths with the infamous Pinkerton detective Tom Horn. On October 4, 1900, Dart emerged from his cabin in Brown’s Hole, Colorado, only to be gunned down by an unseen shooter; two spent shells were later found beneath a nearby tree, and the murderer was never formally identified.

Dart had settled in Brown’s Hole two decades earlier, establishing a ranch that some whispered was actually a front for the outlaw Ned Huddlestone, the sole survivor of Wyoming’s Tip Gault gang. In the valley, he allegedly teamed with small‑scale ranchers Matt Rash, Jim McKnight, and “Queen Ann” Bassett to rustle cattle from the massive holdings of baron Ora Haley. Some historians argue that Haley deliberately tried to drive out the smaller ranchers, prompting him to hire Tom Horn to investigate rustling rumors.

Undercover, Horn infiltrated Rash’s ranch, sending cryptic letters warning Dart and Rash to leave town. In July 1900, Rash was found dead, his final words illegible. Dart refused to abandon his homestead and was slain a few months later. Though the case remained unsolved, Horn would later be executed in 1903 for the murder of a fourteen‑year‑old boy.

6 The Texas Kid

John “The Texas Kid” Hayes remains an enigmatic figure, remembered chiefly for his audacious stand against segregation. Born in Waco, Texas, he roamed the frontier hunting down “Whites‑Only” signs on saloon doors. When he spotted one, he would stride inside, demand a drink, and if denied, would charge his horse through the establishment, blasting the lights before galloping away.

Another towering black cowboy, Jess Crumbly of Cheyenne—nicknamed “Flip” for his ability to send opponents sprawling—stood at an impressive 6 ft 4 in and weighed about 245 lb. Like Hayes, Crumbly refused to be barred from any saloon, drinking wherever he pleased.

The broader struggle against segregation in the West saw numerous acts of defiance, culminating in 1878 when Buffalo Soldiers of the 10th Cavalry opened fire on a saloon in San Angelo, Texas, after locals assaulted their sergeant.

5 Bass Reeves

Following the Civil War, Indian Territory—now Oklahoma—earned a reputation as the nation’s most lawless region. Outlaws fled there in such numbers that a Native American children’s chant warned, “What was your name in the States?” Of the roughly 200 U.S. Marshals killed on duty, a staggering 130 perished in Indian Territory. When Judge Isaac C. Parker, known as the “Hanging Judge,” arrived in 1875 to impose order, he recruited the extraordinary Bass Reeves as a deputy marshal.

Born into slavery in Arkansas, Reeves escaped after punching his owner during a card game. He lived among the Creek and Seminole peoples, mastering several indigenous languages. As a marshal, his fluency and rapport with tribal communities gave him a decisive edge over outlaws who threatened to kill any lawman crossing the “Dead Line” into Indian Territory.

Reeves’ record is staggering: over 27 years he captured more than 3,000 fugitives, killed over a dozen, and once returned from a circuit with a dozen wanted men tied behind his wagon. On one occasion he confronted three notorious outlaws, killing two and forcing the third to surrender. He also intervened in a lynch mob, rescuing the intended victim, and later quelled a budding race war by arresting every participant. Tragically, his most personal case involved arresting his own son, who was sentenced to life for murdering his wife.

4 Cherokee Bill

Crawford “Cherokee Bill” Goldsby epitomized the outlaw archetype of the Old West. The son of a Cherokee mother and an African‑American Buffalo Soldier from the 10th Cavalry, Goldsby allegedly committed his first murder at twelve, shooting his brother‑in‑law over a domestic dispute. Though his youth spared him severe punishment, he later killed again at eighteen and fled his hometown.

Authorities tracked him to Oklahoma’s Indian Territory, where he joined the Cook brothers’ gang. A violent showdown ensued, resulting in the death of lawman Sequoyah Houston, after which Goldsby escaped. When his sister Maud sheltered him, Goldsby grew enraged at her abusive husband, eventually killing him as well.

Back with the Cook brothers, the gang embarked on a crime spree, robbing banks and trains across Oklahoma. Their most daring feat involved holding up the Missouri Pacific depot, then riding hard for two hours to rob a railway agent in the next town. They later wrecked the Kansas City and Pacific Express, murdered a railway agent in Nowata, and ambushed a train, shooting an employee as the doors opened.

Goldsby’s capture led to a trial before Judge Isaac Parker, who sentenced him to death for murdering a bystander during a robbery. In a final desperate attempt, a smuggled pistol allowed him to try a breakout, but a standoff with guards ended when fellow inmate Henry Starr negotiated his surrender. Goldsby was hanged, his last words reportedly, “This is about as good a day to die as any.”

3 Nat Love

Nat “Deadwood Dick” Love secured his place in legend by penning his own autobiography, The Life And Adventures Of Nat Love, Otherwise Known In Cattle Country As Deadwood Dick. Though historians regard his flamboyant prose as highly embellished, the book offers a vivid portrait of a self‑made cowboy. According to Love, he left Tennessee at sixteen, seeking frontier adventure, and quickly proved his mettle breaking horses for the Duval Ranch crew in Kansas City.

The trail boss promised him a job if he could tame a notoriously untamed horse named “Good Eye.” Nat succeeded after a grueling ride, earning $30 a month and soon rising to chief brand reader and “battle buyer,” a role that took him to Mexico where he became fluent in Spanish. He also honed his marksmanship, eventually joining the Gallagher ranch in Arizona, where he fought rustlers and hostile Native Americans.

One Fourth of July, Nat’s herd reached Deadwood, South Dakota, where a town‑wide cowboy contest offered a $200 prize. He swept every event—roping, riding, bridging, saddling, and shooting—earning the nickname “Deadwood Dick.” Later, he retired as a Pullman porter, chronicling his exploits, though independent verification of many of his claimed feats remains scarce.

2 Bill Pickett

Bill Pickett, of Black and Native American ancestry, rose to fame as a rodeo pioneer in early‑20th‑century Texas. He invented “bulldogging,” a daring technique where a rider would rush a bull, grab its head, and bite down on the upper lip, causing the animal to recoil in pain and become easier to wrestle to the ground. Inspired by actual bulldogs that subdued cattle, Pickett’s method became a rodeo staple before later concerns over animal cruelty led to its removal.

Beyond his innovative wrestling, Pickett dazzled crowds with the Miller Brothers’ 101 Ranch Show and delivered a spectacular performance at Cheyenne Frontier Days, becoming the first Black cowboy featured in a motion picture. His life ended tragically in 1932 when a horse kicked him in the head; his death was announced on Will Rogers’ radio program. In 1972, Bill was posthumously inducted into the National Rodeo Hall of Fame.

1 Bob Lemmons

Bob Lemmons earned renown for his unrivaled skill at capturing wild mustangs. After being born into slavery, he secured his freedom and migrated to West Texas, where the open range teemed with untamed horses. Employed by rancher Duncan Lammons—who bestowed upon him the surname Lemmons—Bob learned the intricacies of horse handling while tending cattle.

Mustangs were coveted, and Bob’s unique method involved gaining the herd’s trust over time. While a crowd would spook the herd, Bob worked alone, gradually infiltrating the group without alarm. He would then mount the leading stallion; once the lead was broken, the rest of the herd would follow, allowing him to round them up with remarkable efficiency.

This lucrative expertise enabled Bob to amass enough wealth to purchase his own ranch, where he raised both horses and cattle. During the Great Depression, he and his wife Barbara became celebrated for their generosity, assisting neighbors in dire need. Bob passed away in 1947, just shy of his hundredth birthday, leaving a legacy of horsemanship and community spirit.

When it comes to our view of the past, be it an entire era or one man’s lifetime, the details often come mainly from one source. Even today, we see attempts at rewriting history (such as Turkey’s repeated denials of the Armenian genocide), and that’s with all of the technological advances we have at our disposal. Though fragments are usually all we have left, a few men have stood out through history, shaping our opinions and beliefs about the outcomes of wars and millennia of cultural history. In this list we highlight the 10 people who have left an indelible mark on how we understand the past.

10 Movses Khorenatsi: All Of Armenian History (Up To That Point)

Movses Khorenatsi (sometimes Anglicized as Moses of Khoren) was born shortly after the start of the fifth century AD and is one of the largest and most important figures in Armenian historiography. His life’s work, Patmut’yun Hayots (The History of Armenia), was written thanks to the insistence of a prince in the Bagratuni dynasty. It was the first attempt to look at the country’s history before it converted to Christianity about two centuries prior.

In addition, he was the first to document the oral history of Hayk, the legendary patriarch of Armenia, and Bel, a Titanid of Babylon who followed him when he immigrated to Armenia’s current location near Mount Ararat. Hayk and Bel, as well as their massive armies, fought a violent battle, which ended in Bel’s death. (The Greeks have a similar story, with Zeus taking Hayk’s place.)

Khorenatsi also claimed to have gone to Babylon for his research, determined to use their ancient records to uncover the date on which his country was founded. Initially seen as simply another myth by many scholars, recent genetic work has found that his stated date, 2492 BC, is possibly quite accurate.

9 Manetho: 3,000 Years Of Egyptian History

Though details of Manetho’s life are scarce (as is often the case), approximations place his life sometime in the third century BC. He was an Egyptian priest as well as a prominent historian. He was so prominent, or at least well-respected, that the Macedonian king of Egypt, Ptolemy II Philadelphus, is said to have been the one who commissioned his life’s work, Aegyptiaca (The History of Egypt).

Unfortunately, none of Manetho’s original writing still exists. The only surviving pieces come from later historians or translations, some over 1,000 years after the fact. On top of that, his work was later used in polemics written by various Egyptian, Jewish, and Greek authors, each of whom had a different opinion on which was the oldest (and therefore the best) civilization. (The references were often heavily edited in order to conform to the author’s viewpoint.)

To Egyptologists, the most important part of his work, one which has survived mostly intact, is his king list, his most commonly cited list and the one that ordered Egyptian history into dynasties. However, the surviving citations often differ on the years, order, and names of various pharaohs, another unfortunate side effect of not having Manetho’s original text.

8 Snorri Sturluson: Northern European History And Mythology

One of the most important figures in the historiography of Iceland as well as one of the first to organize and document their national myths by compiling oral traditions, Snorri Sturluson was born at the tail end of the 12th century. In addition to being a prolific writer and historian, he was an accomplished politician, twice holding the office of law speaker at the Althing, an extremely respected position. However, politics would be his downfall, as Sturluson didn’t want to bring Iceland under Norwegian rule. When Norway eventually took control, he was branded a traitor (for his role in attempting to overthrow the king), and he was later killed by one of his sons-in-law.

As far as his literary and historical life go, the Prose Edda is perhaps his best-known work, forming the basis of our knowledge of Norse mythology. Almost entirely consisting of poetry, the Prose Edda is also one of the earliest examples of euhemerism in Northern Europe. Euhemerism derives its name from the Greek mythographer Euhemerus, who was one of the first to suggest that much of mythology could be rationalized as natural events which had undergone a supernatural transformation as their stories spread throughout the centuries.

Heimskringla is Sturluson’s other major work, and it contains sagas of all the Norse kings, from their mythological and prehistoric origins to his own time. However, its use as a historical document is up for debate.

7 Thucydides: The Peloponnesian War

Thucydides was one of the foremost Greek historians, though much of his life is obscured in the fog of antiquity. Ever the self-aggrandizing man, he once wrote that his “history is an everlasting possession, not a prize composition that is heard and forgotten.” He was exiled after a failure on his part to protect the city of Amphipolis from the Spartans. Thucydides then began to compile his great work, History of the Peloponnesian War, the only continuous contemporary account of the fight between Athens and Sparta.

Valuing firsthand accounts above all else, Thucydides included a number of speeches within his writing as well. Perhaps the best known is the funeral oration of Pericles, which some historians suggest may have been an inspiration for Abraham Lincoln’s famous Gettysburg Address, as they share a similar tone, theme, and structure. Though his place in the upper echelon of Western historians was in doubt for much of the time since his death, since the 19th century, his reputation as one of the greatest historiographers has been unassailable.

6 Titus Flavius Josephus: Jewish History (From Adam And Eve To AD 93)

Born into a priestly Jewish family in Jerusalem, Titus Flavius Josephus appeared to be predestined to do something religiously important. In AD 54, at the age of 16, he joined an ascetic Jewish sect and stayed with them for three years, before returning to Jerusalem and becoming a Pharisee. This was an important decision which influenced much of his later life, including his interactions with the Romans, though some sources say that he simply pretended to be a Pharisee, as he was born a Sadducee.

Nevertheless, he began his life as an ardent Jewish man, one who even fought against the Romans during the First Roman-Jewish War, heading up the Jewish forces in Galilee. However, he surrendered to Vespasian, the leader of the Roman forces. He told Vespasian that he felt the Judaic Messianic prophecy was about him and that he was to become emperor. Only a few years later, Vespasian did become emperor, and he rewarded Josephus with Roman citizenship as well as a new name. (He had been born as Joseph ben Matityahu.)

Eventually, an influential Roman named Epaphroditus became a patron of Josephus’ and commissioned him to write his most important works—The Jewish War, which was a collection of books detailing Jewish conflict from 164 BC to 68 AD, and Antiquities of the Jews, which was a 20-volume set of books following the Jewish people from the Garden of Eden straight to Roman rule in AD 93. Though much of the early Jewish history that Josephus wrote about was lifted from the Tanakh, the book has proven invaluable to historians for its description and information about Jewish history for the Second Temple period (580 to 70 BC).

5 Bartolome De Las Casas: Colonization Of The West Indies

Born toward the end of the 15th century, Bartolome de las Casas was a Spanish historian as well as a Dominican friar, a profession which had a great influence on his dealings with the native population of the Americas. At the age of 18, he sailed for Hispaniola, the second-largest island in the West Indies, and was given an encomienda, a land grant that included native slaves as a reward.

Though he witnessed the brutality of the Spanish settlers firsthand, it took nearly 12 years for de las Casas to have what scholars refer to as his “first conversion.” In 1514, he gave up his rights to his encomienda and began to preach against the system, going so far as to call it a mortal sin. De las Casas spent the next few years sailing back and forth between Spain and the West Indies, trying anything he could to stop the mistreatment of the native population. However, all of his efforts amounted to nothing. Distraught, he abandoned his plans and joined the Dominican Order in 1523 (his “second conversion”).

After serving as a prior for a few years, de las Casas began his writing career, starting with Historia Apologetica, a comparative book defending the native population and arguing that they were just as civilized as any of the great European and Egyptian civilizations. However, his Historia de las Indias was much more influential, and it was twofold: First, it was an account of all the mistreatment inflicted by the Spanish in their conquest and subjugation of the New World. Second, it was a prophecy of sorts, with de las Casas intending to show the Spanish people the punishment that God had in store for them.

Eventually, he reached his goal, and King Charles V of Spain called for the establishment of the New Laws, which required encomiendas to be disbanded after a generation. Afterward, de las Casas was named bishop of Chiapas in Guatemala and wrote a confesionario (or manual), in which he forbade the absolution of those involved with encomiendas.

4 Einhard: Charlemagne’s Real Life

Born in 770, Einhard was sent to a monastery to study at the age of nine. It was there that his intellect was first noticed, and he was eventually sent to Charlemagne’s Palace School at the age of 21. Quickly ascending through the ranks, Einhard became a trusted friend of the king. After Charlemagne’s death in 814, he became even more politically active, helping Louis I the Pious to the throne, an act for which he was rewarded with vast tracts of land and appointment as the abbot of several monasteries.

After Charlemagne’s death, Einhard wrote and compiled his greatest work, Vita Karoli Magni (Life of Charles the Great). Described as “one of the most precious literary bequests of the Middle Ages,” it forms the basis for much of our knowledge about the holy Roman emperor and the Carolingian Empire. Wishing to acknowledge a man whose deeds “can scarcely be imitated by the men of our age,” Einhard wrote what is commonly seen as the first biography of a European king. Created in the style of the great Roman biographer Suetonius, especially his biography of Emperor Augustus, Vita Karoli Magni is our source for “almost all our real vivifying knowledge of Charles the Great.” Although many medieval biographies shy away from any negative details about their subjects, Einhard’s book is believed to be a trustworthy document, for the most part.

3 Sima Qian: 2,500 Years Of Chinese History

Perhaps the first great Chinese historian, Sima Qian was born in 145 BC, during the Han dynasty. The son of a grand historian in the Han court, he succeeded his father upon his death in 108 BC. The duties of a grand historian (sometimes translated as “royal astronomer”) included observing astronomical events and documenting the daily happenings of the government. Three years later, Sima began to assemble what would become his masterpiece—Records of the Grand Historian, a book which covers Chinese history from 94 BC back to the legendary Yellow Emperor.

However, as it has been throughout human history, trouble was just around the corner. In 99 BC, two military officers failed spectacularly in a campaign in the north and were captured. Though all other government officials condemned one of them (Li Ling), Sima stood alone. Unfortunately, the emperor took offense to this and condemned him to death. At the time, one could pay to avoid execution, either by money or by genitalia. Lacking the necessary funds, Sima chose castration.

Rather than commit suicide, which was customary for those disgraced by castration, Sima Qian chose to finish his work, for which society owes him a great debt. As noted sinologist Jean Levi proclaimed about Sima Qian, “The history of China [ . . . ] is mixed to one degree or another with the history of one man.”

2 Polybius: The Battle Of Carthage (Circa 149 BC)

Although his largest collection of writings, The Histories, deals with the entirety of the rise of ancient Rome from 264 to 146 BC, the Greek historian Polybius’s most valuable contribution is his work on the battle of Carthage, an event for which he was a firsthand witness. Over 50 years old by the time Carthage’s demise, he had spent most of the last 19 years in Rome as a hostage. However, he grew to love the city and befriended a Roman commander named Scipio Aemilianus, a man who would play a large role in the battle of Carthage. So friendly was their relationship that Polybius boasted, “Our friendship and intimacy grew so close that it was well-known [ . . . ] in the countries beyond.”

In 150 BC, after the Third Punic War, all of the hostages were granted freedom and allowed to return to Greece, but Polybius decided to stay with Aemilianus, accompanying him during his siege of Carthage. Certain details of the battle, as well as the aftermath, were recorded only by Polybius, including an account of the Carthaginian general Hasdrubal’s wife committing suicide by jumping into a burning temple after her husband surrendered.

One of the most famous anecdotes in all of antiquity came from Polybius, whose account of Aemilianus after the looting of Carthage is as follows: “Scipio, beholding this spectacle, is said to have shed tears and publicly lamented the fortune of his enemy.” The image of Scipio weeping not only for the destruction of Carthage, but for the future destruction of Rome itself, became the central theme for Polybius’s Histories, namely the mutability of human affairs. As a side note, Polybius never said anywhere in his writing that the Romans salted the earth around Carthage.

1 Sik: Korean History

Though he had plenty of assistance from at least 10 others, Kim Bu-sik is widely recognized as the author of Samguk Sagi (History of the Three Kingdoms), the oldest extant book dealing with Korean history written by a native Korean. Inspired at a young age by China’s major history books, he spent much of his life hoping to write one for his homeland. It didn’t help that any mention of Korea in Chinese literature was brief or inaccurate, and it was impossible to separate fact from fiction.

Spending much of his early life involved with politics and the military, Bu-sik retired at the age of 67, hoping to complete his historical book before his death. Although he was personally responsible for the introductions to each of the 50 books which make up Samguk Sagi as well as personal flourishes throughout, he nevertheless had help, with the bulk of the writing being done by his assistants. Criticized for being too focused on the government, Bu-sik’s writing follows the lives of around 80 historical figures from the three kingdoms of Korea—Silla, Goguryeo, and Baekje. (However, being of Silla origin, Bu-sik was a little biased in his depiction.)

10 historical events have left indelible marks on the way we speak, write, and think in English. Words, like people, have stories to tell. Languages, like nations, have their histories. They have their peculiarities and quirks that can be traced back to some circumstance in their journey from our ancestors to us. The English language is replete with these curiosities. Inconsistent spelling and pronunciation are just two weird things about English that make learning it frustrating for non‑native speakers.

10 Historical Events Overview

10 The Coming Of The Anglo‑Saxons

When the Romans left Britain in the 5th century, the island was defenseless from invasion by Germanic tribes from the continent. The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, collectively called the Anglo‑Saxons, arrived from northern Germany and Denmark. The Germanic dialect they brought with them was the foundation of Old English. As the invaders pushed back the native Britons (Welsh “Brython”) and settled the land, the Celtic language (“Brythonic”) they spoke was gradually supplanted and now survives only in place names like Devon, Leeds, York, and Avon.

The 100 most common words in modern English are Anglo‑Saxon in origin. Compare the German vater, mutter, bruder, and sohn to the English equivalents father, mother, brother, and son. About a quarter of our modern words are Anglo‑Saxon—everyday words like be, sleep, night, sing, food, strong, house, water, and earth. Modern English is Germanic at its core despite the borrowing of other foreign words or phrases.

Many wonderful sagas and poems were written in Old English, the most famous being the epic Beowulf. Old English must seem a strange language to us, as can be seen in its opening lines:

Hwæt! Wé Gárdena in géardagum
þéodcyninga þrym gefrúnon
hu ða æþelingas ellen fremedon.
Oft Scyld Scefing sceaþena þreatum,
monegum mægþum, meodosetla ofteah,
egsode eorlas.

The Anglo‑Saxons originally used a runic alphabet suitable for carving inscriptions onto stones. However, the coming of Christian missionaries who introduced the Latin alphabet replaced the cumbersome method, making possible the writing of long epics like Beowulf.

9 England Converts To Christianity

In 595, Pope Gregory I decided to convert the pagan Anglo‑Saxons to Christianity and sent a mission of 40 monks led by the Benedictine prior (later a saint) Augustine to Britain. They successfully evangelized the inhabitants, and Augustine established Canterbury as his primary seat. Aside from the Gospel, the missionaries brought with them the liturgy and language of the Church—Latin.

The Anglo‑Saxons were familiar with a few Latin words that had been used throughout the Roman occupation, mostly dealing with the military, government, commerce, and travel. The Latin for a military camp, castrum, gave us the suffix -chester for place names (Manchester, Lancaster). These simple, easy‑to‑remember words related to practical matters (cook, kitchen, mill).

Christianity introduced bigger words and new ideas, mainly religious (e.g., pope, archbishop, shrine, mass, offer, martyr) and, in later centuries, was extended to the spheres of law (legal, prosecute, custody) and medicine (lunatic, ulcer). It marked the beginning of English borrowing words freely from other languages, which enriched its vocabulary.

8 The Viking Invasions

In the 9th century, the Vikings began raiding the coasts of the British Isles, probably to look for new land for Scandinavia’s growing population. Through the next century, many resettled in Britain, the Danes alone coming over with 35,000, about the same number as the inhabitants of London at the time.

As the Anglo‑Saxons were pushed back, it seemed that they and their language would go the way of the Celts. But England found a savior in King Alfred of Wessex, the only English monarch to be called “the Great.” He defeated the Danes at the Battle of Edington in 878. By treaty with the Danish king Guthrum, the Danes were allowed to settle in the northeast area from London to Bedford, called Danelaw. We can locate the places where they put down roots by their names, those which bear suffixes like -by (village, as in Thornby, Whitby), -thorpe (outlying farmstead, as in Copmansthorpe), and -kirk (church, as in Ormskirk).

The more peaceful intercourse between Anglo‑Saxons and Vikings resulted in the intermingling of their languages. Everyday speech shows the stamp of Old Norse, words like husband, sister, ugly, happy, berserk, anger, cake, and take. We owe the Vikings our pronouns he, him, her, they, them, and their. Finally, the days of the week bear the names of the Norse gods Ty, Wodan, Thor, and Freya.

Meanwhile, Alfred, a lover of learning, sought to educate his own people by translating Latin texts into Old English. He said, “Geðenc hwelc witu us ða becomon for ðisse worulde, ða ða we hit nohwæðer ne selfe ne lufodon ne eac oðrum monnum ne lefdon” (“‘Remember what punishments befell us in this world when we ourselves did not cherish learning nor transmit it to other men.”). As we can see, Alfred’s English, the West Saxon dialect, was thoroughly Germanic. Of the 10,000 words preserved in Old English, only 600‑700 were foreign. Many monks must have thought that translating great Latin works into this obscure tongue was pretty pointless.

But Alfred had his way, and the result was to make the West Saxon dialect the standard “King’s English” until the 11th century. Without Alfred, English might not have survived the Viking onslaught.

7 The Norman Conquest

In 1066, William, Duke of Normandy, invaded England to wrest away the crown promised to him by King Edward the Confessor from Harold Godwinson. William defeated King Harold’s forces at the Battle of Hastings and took over the throne. The occupying Normans wrought great transformations in Anglo‑Saxon society, especially in language, which transitioned from Old English to Middle English.

The French‑Norman aristocracy made England their home, and along with their manners and customs, they made French the language of the court and the elite. They considered Old English a vulgar tongue fit only for the lower classes and peasantry. The poor cooked what they called a cow, but when it reached their French‑speaking master’s table, it became “beef” (beouf). Similarly, the sheep became “mutton” (mouton), the calf became “veal” (veau), and the poor pig became “pork” (porc).

English lost up to 85% of its Anglo‑Saxon words during the Norman period as French gained ascendancy. French words permeated politics (government, cabinet, Parliament, minister), war (military, army, commander), and law (court, jury, bailiff, tribunal). Thirty percent of our vocabulary today comes from French. A contemporary writer lamented: “Children in school, contrary to the usage and custom of other nations, are compelled to drop their own language and to construe their lessons and other tasks in French.”

King John’s loss of the ancestral land of Normandy in 1204 cut off the Anglo‑Norman nobles from their connections to France. Gradually, they thought of themselves more as English than French. As England became conscious of unity, France increasingly became a foreign nation, whose king, Edward I said in 1295, had “his detestable purpose, which God forbid, to wipe out the English tongue.”

Many Normans learned English to communicate effectively with their subjects, while many commoners became more familiar with French. French, however, remained the official language of England for 300 years.

6 The Black Death

In June 1348, a sailor arriving in Weymouth from Gascony in France brought with him virulent bacteria carried by infected fleas, Yersinia pestis, that would ravage England and kill perhaps a third of the population, between 25 and 50 million. The Black Death was the greatest horror medieval Europe endured, and it profoundly changed society, including the English language.

The bubonic plague did not discriminate between rich and poor, noble or peasant. It cut down people regardless of age or sex. The French‑speaking aristocracy and ruling elite were close to being wiped out. This turned society upside down—with an acute labor shortage and huge tracts of land left unattended, the surviving peasants realized they now had bargaining power and dared to demand more for their labor. The commoners now had a voice in society, and the language they spoke, English, began to be important. With the death of so many French speakers, English began to assert itself. The Black Death saved English from oblivion.

What kind of English did they speak? They would have pronounced words very much the same as they were written. Thus, steak rhymed with bleak, tears with bears (not beers), there were no silent k’s or g’s, the l before f,v,k,m is sounded (calf, halve, folke, palmer), the -gh as in thought is pronounced like -ch in German (ich) and the final -e a schwa (ə).

Changes in pronunciation were nevertheless already happening, and by the Renaissance, the long vowels had already acquired their modern sounds in what had been termed the “Great Vowel Shift.”

5 The Statute Of Pleading

Geoffrey Chaucer, the Father of English Poetry, probably spoke French, as he belonged to the upper class. However, English was reemerging as a national language, and the government found it necessary to address the new situation. For one, commoners complained that they could not understand what was going on whenever they were involved in court cases, as legal proceedings were held in French.

In 1362, the Statute of Pleading in English Act was passed, allowing courtroom business to be conducted in English. The Parliament that enacted it was opened with a speech by the Chief Justice in English, the first time since the Conquest the native tongue was used. Now officially recognized, the slow but steady shift to the use of English in government and bureaucracy began.

By the time Chaucer wrote his Canterbury Tales (1387–1400) in Middle English, that language was replacing French as the medium of instruction in schools. To see how English had changed from the time of Beowulf, here is how The Canterbury Tales begins:

Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote,
The droghte of March hath perced to the roote,
And bathed every veyne in swich licóur
Of which vertú engendred is the flour;

Authors began to write for audiences who knew no French or Latin. Aristocrats dropped their disdain for English, and even those who knew French came to favor English literary works. Furthermore, the growing hostility between England and France that culminated in the Hundred Years War led nobles to speak in English as a badge of their identity. Henry IV (1367–1416) was perhaps the first king for whom Middle English was the language of choice.

4 Caxton’s Printing Press

In the 1450s, Johann Gutenberg of Mainz, Germany, caught up with Chinese technology and introduced printing by moveable type into Europe. An information revolution followed as thousands of printed works flooded the continent. The wealthy English merchant William Caxton saw the potential of the book business with the growing demand for English literature.

He translated Recueil des histoires de Troye (A Collection of the Histories of Troy) from French into English and published it in Bruges, Belgium, in 1475. It was the first book to be printed in English, followed by The Game and Playe of the Chesse, also translated from French.

Caxton returned to England in 1476 and set up his own printing press at Westminster. At the time, there were wide variations in the English being spoken, so Englishmen could not even understand their fellows. Caxton himself tells this story: “And one of (the merchants) named Sheffelde, a mercer, came into a house and asked for food; and especially he asked for eggs. And the good wife answered that she could speak no French. And the merchant was angry, for he also could speak no French, but wanted to have eggs, and she understood him not. And then, at last, another said that he would have ‘eyren.’ Then, the good wife understood him well.” Lo, what should a man in these days now writes, “eggs” or “eyren”?

To solve this problem, Caxton used the power of his printing press to propagate a standard English, and this variety of Middle English, spoken in London and surrounding districts, was called the “King’s English.” Caxton took the first step in making English a truly national language, ready to one day conquer the world.

3 The English Renaissance

England could not fail to be affected by the great revival of learning and culture sweeping continental Europe called the Renaissance. From the late 15th to the 17th centuries, during the reigns of the Tudors and Stuarts, English was transformed from a simple vernacular into a rich and complex literary language that continued to absorb new words and phrases, evolving more precise grammar and syntax.

It was a period that saw great writers and poets, the greatest of which, undoubtedly, was William Shakespeare. The Bard from Avon introduced over 1,700 new words into our vocabulary that are still being used today: alligator, bedroom, eyeball, fashionable, gossip, hurry, lonely, manager, traditional, and worthless, to name a few. Shakespeare also originated many familiar phrases. When we say, “Love is blind,” “Good riddance,” or “Wear your heart on your sleeve,” we are quoting Shakespeare.

Another work that has enriched the English language is the King James Bible (KJV) of 1611, the crowning point of the long struggle to wrest the Scriptures away from the Catholic Church and translate it from Latin into English so that the common people might read it. Its majestic prose is quoted, often unknowingly, even in our secular age.

When we “put words into someone’s mouth,” see the “handwriting on the wall,” dread the “signs of the times,” rally “from strength to strength,” or find a “fly in the ointment,” we are, deliberately or not, referencing the KJV. Contemporary idioms have 257 such phrases popularized by the KJV, most of which are copied from the earlier English translation of William Tyndale. It also introduced 40 or so new words, like backsliding, scapegoat, longsuffering, and peacemaker.

Some 10‑12,000 loanwords entered the vocabulary, mostly from Greek and Latin, but also from other European languages, further diluting English’s Teutonic character. Spelling was also being standardized (e.g., dette/debt, doute/doubt, indite/indict, quire/choir, faute/fault), and the Great Vowel Shift was making words more recognizable to the modern ear (e.g., shape/sheep, may/me, meen/mine, maat/mate, oot/out, hus/house).

2 Samuel Johnson’s Dictionary

The first English dictionary, “A Table Alphabeticall” by Robert Cawdrey, appeared in 1604 and listed 2,543 “hard words” derived from Hebrew, Latin, Greek, and French. Obviously, it was not very useful, and other dictionaries followed throughout the 17th and 18th centuries.

In 1755, Samuel Johnson published his two‑volume Dictionary of the English Language, which he conceived as “a dictionary by which the pronunciation of our language may be fixed, and its attainment facilitated; by which its purity may be preserved, its use ascertained, and its duration lengthened.” Though the ever‑changing character of the language thwarted Johnson’s attempt to “fix” it, the dictionary nevertheless standardized spellings and usage for future authors.

Johnson provided the template for good and effective lexicography. The Dictionary comprehensively defined 42,773 entries and had quotations to illustrate their usage. He didn’t hesitate to include “vulgar” words like bum, fart, piss, and turd. There were even curiosities like belly‑god (“one who makes a god of his belly”) and amatorculist (“a little insignificant lover”), as well as insults, including fopdoodle (“a fool; an insignificant wretch”), bedpresser (“a heavy, lazy fellow”), and pricklouse (“a word of contempt for a tailor”).

Until the publication of the Oxford English Dictionary in 1884, Johnson’s dictionary was the go‑to reference for writers and speakers, and its impact on the English language still resonates today.

1 Expansion Of The British Empire

The age of discovery and exploration, beginning in the 15th century, opened up new lands for European colonization. England, a growing maritime power, did not lag far behind Spain and Portugal in exploiting the opportunities. By the 18th century and on to the 19th, the British held sway over much of North America, Africa, India, and Australia. At its peak, Britain was the mother country to a quarter of the planet, ruling a quarter of its population. To all these places they colonized, they introduced the English language.

Britain did not only export her language. Contact with far‑flung cultures added more new words to the vocabulary. Early on, Arabic gave us algebra, zero, zenith, giraffe, gazelle, sultan, caravan, mosque, to name a few. Chimpanzee, goober, gumbo, impala, jumbo, mamba, zebra, and zombie are African in origin. From the Chinese comes tea, that beloved British drink, and from Sanskrit, we have avatar, karma, and yoga. The list goes on.

When the thirteen American colonies declared their independence from Britain and went their own way, their English evolved in peculiar ways that made it distinct from British English. It borrowed words from Native Americans (e.g., skunk, bayou, hickory, squash, raccoon, tepee) and Spanish (bronco, avocado, canyon, siesta, plaza), often describing things not found in Britain. When the United States became a world power, she exported her brand of English throughout the world via schools, business, pop culture, Hollywood, and now, the Internet. It is not the King’s English the world speaks and spells, but American English.

From the simple tongue of obscure tribes in the forests of northern Germany to the global lingua franca, English had gone through one great adventure.

Today, astrology is largely the stuff of superstition and poorly thought-out tattoos. That was not always the case, and for much of history, looking to the stars was an absolutely legitimate method of decision‑making. That was true for everyone from the common man to the highest ranks of nobility, making some astrologers incredibly influential. The 10 influential astrologers we explore below each left a distinct mark on the world.

10 Influential Astrologers: Their Legacy

10 Dominique Cassini

Cassini is most commonly associated with his advancements in astronomy, but his interest in the stars started with astrology. In his day—the mid‑17th century—astrology and astronomy still went hand in hand. The Italian‑born Giovanni Domenico Cassini would later give his name to the space probe, but when he first moved to France for college, it was astrology he was studying.

His studies led him to believe that there was absolutely no truth to what had been considered a science for centuries. While his teachers might have disagreed with him, he still got the attention of the Marquis Cornelio Malvasia in 1644. Malvasia later gave him an appointment at the newly established Panzano Observatory. There, Cassini’s studies turned to astronomy, and he would go on to make the initial calculations that would later lead to the discovery of the speed of light, find the gap in the rings of Saturn, and discover several new moons.

9 Adelard Of Bath

Adelard of Bath lived at the turn of the 12th century, and while he is not credited for making any great scientific advancement or overhauling any astrological works, he is credited for opening the door between the Eastern world and the West.

He translated Liber Praestigiorum, a text notable for being the first Hermetic work introduced to the Western world, and it was quickly followed by countless alchemical and philosophical writings.

Adelard believed knowledge of astral magic and astrology would allow a person to accomplish just about anything, from finding love to getting rid of scorpions in his native city of Bath. Later scholars would disagree on certain points (Adelard thought the use of incantations and incense were key, while others thought that just knowing how to read the stars was enough), but his translations brought something else to Europe, too: the idea of Egypt’s demon worship.

8 John Partridge (And Isaac Bickerstaff)

John Partridge was born in London in 1643, and after serving some time as an apprentice shoemaker, he found his interests were in the stars. His astrological predictions were so popular that he started publishing his own almanac, and others used his name to promote their own predictions.

One thing he did not predict was Isaac Bickerstaff.

We know him better as Jonathan Swift, and he thought astrology was nonsense. To prove his point, he began writing his own almanac as Isaac Bickerstaff, and he predicted Partridge would die on March 29, 1709. Partridge did not die, but he had a terrible time convincing people that he was still alive.

7 Guido Bonatti

Guido Bonatti lived in 13th‑century Italy and was the preferred astrologer for noble families, especially those rallying against the force of the Pope and the Catholic Church. He was immortalized by Dante, who condemned him to the eighth circle of hell, reserved for the fortune tellers and the astrologers.

What we know about Bonatti comes in bits and pieces. His father reportedly lived to be 107 years old, and an uncle survived to 120. He was rumored to be an incredibly hot‑headed sort who liked to play pranks on women, and his mother supposedly knew someone who had given birth to a cat.

Regardless, Bonatti was in a position to guide some powerful men (perhaps even including the Holy Roman Emperor, Frederick II). He advised Verona’s ruler and Florentine nobility during one of the most turbulent centuries in Italian history.

6 Albumasar

Albumasar (or Ja’far ibn Muhammad Abu Ma’shar Al‑Balkhi) was one of the most famous astrologers of the ninth century. His Great Introduction to the Science of Astrology is one of the foremost works on the subject, and it has preserved a treasure trove of information on how philosophical debate contributed to the rules regarding the role of the stars and planets in our worldly lives.

He was also behind a scientific discovery not just rooted in astrological beliefs but absolutely correct. In the midst of one of his major astrological works, Albumasar included thoughts and observations on the tides. He posited that they were caused by the physical movement of celestial bodies around us, and he also documented the relationship between tides and the Moon.

5 Pierre D’Ailly

Pierre d’Ailly was an astrologer and a bishop. He was born around 1350, and much of his work involved establishing the difference between astrology that was superstition and astrology based on the science of the stars. He believed the end of the world was nigh, even though no one could tell precisely when it was going to happen.

One of his most influential works was a book called Imago Mundi. A mix of sciences influenced by the stars, the book was reprinted between 1480 and 1483. A copy of this new edition ended up in the library of Christopher Columbus, who not only made extensive notes throughout the whole book but also used its geographic claims as proof that it was possible to sail from Spain to India.

4 Guido Von List

Von List had an eye operation in 1902, and while he was near‑blind and recovering, he claimed to have been visited by a vision that revealed what he called the creation of the Aryan folk soul. That began a lifelong journey for the man who claimed to be both an astrologer and a magician, and he would go on to claim he had mystical, magical proof that the Norse Edda told the story of the creation of the four root races, along with the Aryan race.

He would go on to claim that he was a reincarnated priest‑king and establish several secret societies, each with members he recruited to help him monitor Jewish activities and, ultimately, restore the Aryan race to glory.

If that all sounds familiar, it absolutely should. Von List died in 1918, but his Aryan astrology and mysticism laid the groundwork for the occult obsession of the Nazis.

3 William Lilly

In 1652, astrologer William Lilly published a book called Monarchy or No Monarchy. Fourteen years later, he was called before the English government to explain how he had managed to predict the Fire of London, which destroyed a huge part of the city. Lilly found himself under investigation for starting the fire to make his prophecy come true, and only when he convinced the government he had been wrong was he released.

Almost a decade before, he was advising Parliament in matters of war. His astrological charts and advice were among the evidence considered by parliamentarians planning their movements against King Charles, and he had an undeniable hand in guiding just what was decided and when it happened.

2 Simon Forman

Forman took up astrology in mid‑life, and between 1596 and 1603, he averaged 2,000 consultations every year. That means he had an impact on huge number of Elizabethan lives, and since he documented them—and himself—in such detail, he is one of the major sources we have today on what everyday life was at the turn of the 16th century.

He wrote thousands of pages on everything from occult beliefs of the day to his own dreams and the concerns of the people who consulted him. He shaped history not by influencing the events around wars or nobility but by advising the everyday person on everything from their romantic lives to medical concerns and when and where they would find their missing socks. Forman’s writing also contain some of the most complete documentation of Shakespearean plays as they were originally performed.

1 William The Englishman

Plenty of weird practices have cropped up throughout the history of medicine, and William the Englishman was at the heart of one of the strangest.

In the early 1300s, William was living in Marseille and practicing a version of uroscopy that seems questionable on the best of days. The theory behind uroscopy was that a trained physician could diagnose a patient’s medical issues by examining his or her urine. In his treatise “De urina non visa,” William developed the idea that by casting a patient’s astrological chart, he could determine the condition of a person’s urine without even seeing it and, in turn, could diagnose the patient.

The text even contains some of William’s personal experiences in diagnosing patients’ urine via their star charts, along with his defense of the incredibly questionable practice of medical astrology. Just how many futures he shaped is uncertain.