Zoom back to February 27, 837, when the night sky lit up with a cosmic celebrity: Halley’s Comet, swinging by Earth for its 15th recorded close-up with the Sun—aka its perihelion. This blazing snowball, named centuries later for astronomer Edmond Halley, was one of the brightest shows in town, streaking so close to our planet that it dazzled onlookers across Europe and Asia. People didn’t have telescopes or Twitter, but they had eyes—and jaws that dropped as this fiery visitor blazed within 3.2 million miles of Earth, the closest it’s ever come in recorded history.

Back then, comets weren’t exactly understood. To the folks of the 9th century—like the scholars of the Tang Dynasty in China or the monks scribbling in European monasteries—it was a glowing mystery. Some saw it as a divine omen, others a harbinger of doom (spoiler: no apocalypse followed). Chinese astronomers meticulously noted its path, marking it as a “broom star” for its sweeping tail, while in Europe, it got tied to everything from royal deaths to bad harvests. Little did they know it was just a chunk of ice and dust, looping around the Sun every 76 years or so.

This 837 flyby was a big deal because it was so darn close—closer than it’s been since, thanks to the quirks of orbits and gravity. At its peak, Halley’s tail stretched across half the sky, a shimmering spectacle that lasted weeks. Scientists today drool over those ancient records, piecing together the comet’s path with math and a bit of awe. It’s like a cosmic clock, ticking through history—by 837, it had already been spotted 14 times before, though not always with such fanfare.

So why does February 28, 837, stick with us? It’s a snapshot of humanity gawking at the universe, long before we had a clue what we were seeing. Halley’s Comet didn’t care about our superstitions—it just kept swinging by, a reliable rebel in the sky. Next time it rolls around (2061, mark your calendars!), think of those 9th-century stargazers, squinting up in wonder at the same glowing traveler we still chase today.

It’s February 27, 1907, and Vienna’s buzzing with coffee, cigars, and big ideas when two brainiacs—Carl Jung and Sigmund Freud—sit down for the first time. Freud, the 50-year-old godfather of psychoanalysis, is already famous for diving into the mind’s dirty laundry—think sex, dreams, and cigar metaphors. Jung, a 31-year-old Swiss upstart, is eager to meet the legend whose books he’s devoured. What happens next? A 13-hour gabfest so epic, it’s like the Super Bowl of shrink talk—except with more repressed feelings and fewer touchdowns.

The backstory’s juicy. Freud had been churning out theories about the unconscious, making waves (and enemies) with his wild takes on human nature. Jung, working at a Swiss psych clinic, was hooked—he’d even used Freud’s ideas to crack tough cases. When Jung sent Freud some fan mail (aka scholarly papers), the older doc saw a protégé who could carry his torch. So, Freud invited him to Vienna, and bam—their first meetup was instant chemistry. They dove into dreams, neuroses, and everything in between, barely pausing for air.

This wasn’t just a chit-chat; it was a brain-meld that shaped psychology. Freud saw Jung as his “crown prince,” the guy to spread psychoanalysis worldwide. Jung wasn’t just a yes-man—he brought his own flavor, like word association tests and a knack for the mystical. They clicked hard, swapping letters for years after and teaming up to take Freud’s ideas global. But (plot twist!) the bromance didn’t last—by 1913, they’d split over Jung’s wilder theories, like the collective unconscious, which Freud thought was too woo-woo. Still, that first meeting laid the groundwork for both their legacies.

February 27, 1907, matters because it’s when two titans of the mind collided, sparking ideas that still mess with our heads today. Freud gave us the id and Oedipus; Jung gave us archetypes and introverts. Their Vienna powwow was a launchpad for modern therapy—proof that a good convo can change the world, or at least how we overthink it.

Beethoven’s Coffee ☕️
Ludwig van Beethoven didn’t just love coffee—he was obsessed with precision. Before composing a single note, he personally counted exactly 60 coffee beans per cup, believing it was the perfect ratio for his creative fuel. He refused to let anyone else brew it, making sure his morning cup was just right before diving into his symphonies.

The Cat Tax🐱
In medieval Wales, owning a good mouser could literally lower your taxes. The law stated that if your cat caught enough mice, you could get a tax break—but there was a catch: you had to prove it with a pile of mouse tails. Basically, tax collectors weren’t interested in your word—they wanted cold, hard rodent evidence. So if you had a lazy cat? Full tax. But if your feline was a medieval pest control expert? Discount

Mummy Paint 🎨
In the 19th century, European artists used a pigment called "Mummy Brown"—which, shockingly, was made by grinding up actual Egyptian mummies. Collectors and traders plundered ancient tombs, turning centuries-old remains into paint for oil paintings. Artists loved the rich, earthy brown tones—until they realized what they were actually smearing onto their canvases. By the early 20th century, the trend faded (thankfully), but not before countless masterpieces were created using history’s weirdest art supply.

The Sausage Duel🤺
In 1865, German scientist Rudolf Virchow and statesman Otto von Bismarck got into a heated political feud. Things escalated quickly when Virchow challenged Bismarck to a duel—but with a deadly twist. Instead of swords or pistols, Virchow proposed dueling with sausages—one regular, one laced with deadly bacteria. Each man would randomly pick and eat a sausage, putting their fate in the hands of bad luck (and bad meat). Bismarck, perhaps realizing this was a truly ridiculous way to die, wisely declined the duel. And so, history’s strangest food fight never happened.

If you enjoy this edition of Today In History be sure to send it to a friend and force them to sign up because that’s what good friends do. Until next time, stay curious, question everything, and keep uncovering the mysteries of the past. - Zach⛺️