In 1756, in the heart of what’s now Myanmar, King Alaungphaya had just risen from village chief to ruler of a unified Burma, founding the Konbaung Dynasty after fighting off invaders and restoring order to the region. Determined to strengthen his kingdom and connect with the outside world, Alaungphaya set his sights on diplomacy. But instead of sending an ordinary letter, he made a bold move — crafting a message out of solid gold, engraved in Burmese script, and placed inside an ivory cylinder. This golden letter wasn’t just flashy — it was a serious diplomatic gesture meant for King George II of Great Britain.

The message inside was clear: Alaungphaya wanted to build a friendly relationship with the British and open up trade through the East India Company, specifically at the port of Pathein. He promised protection and fair treatment for British merchants, hoping to create a lasting partnership. At the time, European powers were expanding rapidly in Asia, and Alaungphaya’s offer was strategic — showing that he wasn’t just thinking locally. He was inviting one of the world’s biggest powers into his corner of the map, on equal terms.

But the letter never made it to King George himself. Somewhere along the line, it got lost in the shuffle of European politics and bureaucracy, eventually ending up in the Royal Archives of Hanover in Germany, where it sat untouched for more than 250 years. For decades, no one even knew it existed — it was just a forgotten artifact gathering dust. That changed in 2005, when historian Dr. Jacques Leider rediscovered it and realized what a rare and powerful diplomatic message it was.

Today, that Golden Letter is preserved at the Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz Library, and it stands as an example of early global diplomacy. It’s proof that long before modern globalization, leaders like Alaungphaya were already reaching across oceans, not with conquest, but with respect, trade, and vision. Though the king passed away in 1757, just a year after sending it, that letter remains a symbol of his ambition — a golden reminder that the East and West were already talking, even if the message took a while to be heard.

On May 7, 1896, H.H. Holmes, often called America’s first serial killer, was hanged in Philadelphia for the murder of his business associate Benjamin Pitezel. Born Herman Webster Mudgett, Holmes had already become infamous across the country, thanks to his crimes committed in Chicago during the 1893 World’s Fair. He wasn’t just a murderer — he was a con man, a scammer, and the twisted mind behind a building later dubbed the “Murder Castle.”

That building, located in Chicago, looked like a normal hotel from the outside. But on the inside, it was a maze of trap doors, secret passages, soundproof rooms, and chutes that led straight to the basement — where Holmes allegedly disposed of his victims. He lured guests, mostly young women, into the hotel under false promises, and many of them were never seen again. Holmes later admitted to 27 murders, though some believe the real number could be much higher.

After fleeing Chicago, Holmes was eventually caught and put on trial — not for the hotel murders, but for killing Benjamin Pitezel as part of an insurance scam. He was found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging. Even in prison, Holmes was unnerving. He claimed he was possessed by the devil and that his face had begun to change shape. In his final moments at Moyamensing Prison, he remained calm and showed no remorse. When the trapdoor dropped, his neck didn’t snap immediately, and it took over 15 minutes for him to die — a slow, eerie end for one of the darkest figures in American history.

Holmes was buried in cement at his own request, fearing grave robbers might dig up his body. His death closed the chapter on a chilling saga that had gripped the nation — a tale of murder, manipulation, and morbid curiosity. Today, the legend of H.H. Holmes still lingers in books, documentaries, and conspiracy theories — some even connect him to Jack the Ripper. Whether or not those claims hold water, there’s no doubt that Holmes left behind a legacy as one of the most disturbing criminals the U.S. has ever known.

Titanic’s Lifeboat Drill🧊
On April 14, 1912, the morning of the Titanic disaster, there was supposed to be a lifeboat drill — a routine safety exercise to prepare passengers and crew in case of an emergency. But for reasons still unclear, the drill was canceled that very morning. No official explanation was given, and no reschedule was planned. That night, the Titanic hit the iceberg. When chaos unfolded, many passengers didn’t know where to go, and crew members weren’t fully prepared for an actual evacuation. Add to that the fact that the ship didn’t even have enough lifeboats for everyone, and the tragedy escalated fast. It’s one of those haunting “what ifs” — if they’d run the drill as scheduled, more lives might’ve been saved. 🛟📅

Beavers and Christians🦫
In medieval Europe, many Christians genuinely believed that beavers would bite off their own testicles if they were being hunted — thinking this would make the hunters lose interest and let them go. Why? Because beaver testicles were thought to have medicinal value, especially in treating headaches. So, naturally, the legend went that the beaver, knowing this, would self-neuter and live another day. Spoiler: this is biologically impossible, and also, what people thought were testicles were actually scent glands used to produce castoreum (still used today in some perfumes and flavorings…weird). 🦫📜

Year Without Summer🌋
In 1815, Mount Tambora in Indonesia erupted — and not just a little. It was one of the most powerful volcanic eruptions in recorded history, blasting ash and gas so high into the atmosphere that it disrupted global weather. The next year, 1816, became known as “The Year Without a Summer.” Temperatures dropped, snow fell in June in North America, crops failed across Europe and Asia, and widespread famine followed. Skies stayed dim and eerie for months due to volcanic particles blocking out sunlight. The chaos even inspired art and literature — during that cold, gloomy summer, Mary Shelley wrote Frankenstein while stuck indoors in Switzerland. So yeah, one volcano on one island triggered a planet-wide climate crisis, food shortages, and some very moody Gothic fiction.❄️📉🌾

🔥This was actually part of a recent story from our newsletter, check it out here:
https://www.dailytodayinhistory.com/p/today-in-history-first-banana-sold-in-london-and-the-eruption-of-mount-tambora

Lighthouse Mystery🌊
In 1900, three lighthouse keepers on the remote Flannan Isles off the coast of Scotland vanished without a trace — leaving behind one of the eeriest unsolved mysteries in maritime history. When a relief ship arrived, they found the lighthouse completely empty. The fire was out, clocks were stopped, and a half-eaten meal was left on the table. The only real clue? Two raincoats were missing, suggesting the men had gone outside... but the third was still hanging up, as if one man stayed behind. Some believe a massive wave swept them off the cliffs during a storm. Others blame foul play, or go full folklore with theories about sea monsters or ghosts. No bodies were ever found. No definitive answers ever surfaced. Just three men who vanished into the mist — and a lighthouse that’s been haunted by questions ever since. 🕯️🌫️🌊

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