Creative solutions to difficult problems often make for very curious results.
Welcomed Aaron Menkey's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of I Heart Radio and Grim and Mild. Our world is full of the unexplainable, and if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities. In sixteen fifty, English theologian Thomas Fuller coined the phrase it's always darkest before the dawn. It means things often seem hopeless or their bleakest, just before they turn around for the better. Ulysses Has Grant, for example, quit the army in eighteen fifty four when he was only thirty two years old. He went off to Missouri to become a farmer and a leather trader, but he couldn't cut it. His family suffered, he'd drink heavily and almost lost everything. Then in eighteen sixty one, America became embroiled in a bloody civil war, and Grant, with few other opportunities, decided to rejoin the military, and he proved himself to be a strong leader, winning battles against the South and working his way up until he was promoted to lead the entire Union army. Eventually, he was even elected President of the United States, a far cry from the failure he almost became. History is full of stories like this, with people in dire circumstances on the brink of disaster until the tide's turn in their favor, and this happened quite literally in fifteen sixty eight. That year, the Dutch and King Philip the Second of Spain began a major conflict with each other that would become known as the Eighty Years War. The Dutch were vying for independence, and by the time the war was over, they had lost at least a hundred thousand soldiers plus an unknown number of civilian casualties. One of the more important battles heard in fifteen seventy three in the South Holland city of Leiden. Spain's forces were considerable, numbering amount fifteen thousand compared to the Dutchess eleven thousand. However, despite their numbers, Spain wasn't prepared for what they encountered upon entering Leiden. The Spanish, under the command of Francisco da Valdez, began their invasion in October of fifteen seventy three. They got off to a rough start almost immediately, though they couldn't dig trenches due to the loose soil, and the city had established formidable defenses in advance of their arrival. Backing the Dutch rebels were the Scottish, the English, and the French, who all worked together and put up an admirable fight for over six months. And then in April of fifteen seventy four, the rebels tried to give the city a break by sending an army to the Netherlands to distract Valdez. The Spanish officer stopped the siege for a bit to attend to this splintered faction, but another general took care of things and wiped them out first. The Spanish restarted this age the following month, and things looked grim for the Dutch. Supplies were running out, the rebels had lost ground and their casualties were growing. William of Orange, the leader of the Dutch revolt, sent a carrier pigeon to the city, begging them to hold on for just another few months until he could bring them reinforcements. And William had more than troops. He had a plan. He would break the dikes that had long protected the city from flooding by the North Sea, and with the dike's gone, the north Sea would wash over the land, allowing the Dutch fleet to rush in and relieve Leiden. Two ships were stockpiled with supplies and food for Lydens citizens ready to go. The dikes were breached and the rebel fleet, well, it didn't go anywhere. The water wasn't high enough to let them travel as far as they needed to, about fifteen miles. The ships could only go small distances before encountering an enemy vessel or a dike that needed to be cut down. At one point, things got so dire in enlightened that the townsfolk hungry and desk Britt called for a surrender. The reinforcements that they had been promised hadn't arrived yet, and their outlook was bleak. Thousands had starved to death already, but the mayor employed everyone to wait for help to arrive. He even suggested that they eat his arm to stay alive. The people of Leightden did hold on, knowing that they'd be killed by the Spanish if they all gave up. Finally, on October one, storms brought heavy rains and powerful winds to the area, the dikes were overrun and Lighten was flooded. The Spanish men on the ground abandoned their posts and fled as the waters rose, while those on ships retreated before the Dutch fleet showed up. On October three, rebel ships finally arrived, sailing into the streets and feeding the weakened people of Leightden with herring and white bread. William of Orange's plan had actually worked, although it had taken longer than expected, and all they had needed was a little help from Mother Nature. These days, I'm betting that just about everyone is familiar with the idea of steampunk. Stories like Mortal Engines bring these worlds to life, built up clockwork machines operating with cogs and cranks, churning out smoke like factory billows. It looks pretty cool, as impractical and impossible as it is, although it's not totally impossible. In fact, there was a short time in Europe when the reality of these mechanics was full steam ahead, even becoming the livelihood of many inventors, and one such man was James Cox, and like many of his contemporaries, he was a man of many talents. He was a jeweler and a goldsmith, which is where he found a capital to foray into the wonderful world of automata. Using his other skill sets, James became known for creating clockwork curios encrusted with jewels and gold. He referred to them as sing songs, since they well sang songs in addition to all their other abilities. Not unlike a wind up toy. Today, all you had to do was turn the crank or twist the knob and watch as the creation came to life, running its cycle until it was ready to be started again. And while the British public was more or less interested in these creations, it was new lands in the Far East that James targeted for his primary market. Even the Chinese emperor at the time was a satisfied customer of james Cox, purchasing a large mechanical chariot that he kept at his court. James made so much money from his sales to the Far East that he was instrumental in reducing the British trade deficit, alongside another chief export of the time, t Unfortunately, only one of these items would stand the test of time as the Eastern market saturated. Though James fell on hard times and decided to open up his own curiosity museum in the Great Room met Spring Gardens in London. And honestly, I feel like that was a move I can get behind. Curiosities need to be shared right there in his museum. Tickets to see his clockwork oddities carried an exorbitant price, but one the public was willing to pay. The exhibit became such a hit that had appeared in numerous novels and plays of the time, and became a favorite of patrons like British writer Samuel Johnson. And by this time James had constructed his most famous work, the Peacock Clock, featuring three life size peacocks that could dance and preen as if they were alive. Only these peacocks were made of gold, silver and gems. Staying with the general theme, he also worked with John Joseph Merlin to create a silver swan that could lift its wings, swim and catch a fish in its beak. Both pieces ended up on display at the Hermitage Museum in Russia, purchased by Catherine the Great. At its zenith, the London Curio Museum may have even displayed the severed head of Oliver Cromwell. Although I'm happy to report that it wasn't modified with any steampunk functions. It did not sing or wink either, at least not that we know of. Unfortunately, in a volatile national economy, James soon found his fortune turned to dust, declaring bankruptcy as his plea for royal patronage fell on deaf ears. Many of the pieces were sold by lottery, and James was left more or less right back where he had started. Richer in experience and knowledge, for sure, but not in funds. A few years later he declared bankruptcy yet again. You see, while James Cox had a brilliant mind for mechanics and musical whimsies, he could not maintain a sustainable income in a marketplace that was, believe it or not, already flooded with mechanical birds that sang and dance. James remained in business as a retailer following his second bankruptcy until his death in eighteen hundred. Like many artists of his day, he died with very little money to his name, only to have his work grow in value long after his death, and the handiwork of James Cox is still changing hands for large sums of cash today. Back in two thousand twelve, for instance, a large musical clock that had previously been owned by the Egyptian king Farouk sold for nearly six hundred thousand dollars. Who knows what James might have spent that sort of money on back in his day, but I'm willing to bet that whatever it was, it would have danced, saying and maybe even flapped its wings. I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com. And until next time, stay curious one