Big Mistake

real reason for his stature didn't matter to him. All he knew was that in Ireland in seventeen sixty one, he was an anomaly, a freak, as they used to call him, and it wasn't long before he had outgrown the tiny village where he lived. Literally as a teenager, Charles set out for Scotland and began perform a mean fun tricks for the people that he met. He liked to see the reactions on their faces as he lit

his pipe using a nearby street lamp. His charm and personality made him a sensation, so much so that a stage show was written and performed about the larger than life Irish transplant Charles. Fame had earned him quite a bit of money too, which he carried on him at all times. He didn't use banks, nor did he keep anything in a secret hiding place at home. Unfortunately, many locals knew about his wealth, which made him an easy target.

After a night of heavy drinking, a pickpocket managed to lift every last bill off the seven foot tall giant, leaving him penniless. To make matters worse, it started to come to light that Charles height had come at a cost. While the story about the haystack was a fun way to play off their sun situation, the truth had actually been much darker. Charles Burne had been born with a tumor in his pituitary gland, which had accelerated his growth.

His health eventually took a bad turn, and, compounded with his sudden extreme poverty, left him without any kind of fighting chance at survival. He died at twenty two years old, broke and homeless. But the story of the Irish Giant doesn't end there. In fact, it gets a little stranger. See, Charles had died at a time when the medical field was entering an era of intense research, when patients alive or dead were being experimented on in new sometimes inhumane ways.

The dead rarely got a chance to rest, as undertakers sold bodies on the black market to desperate medical researchers. Charles Byrne had known all about these kinds of doctors and how they'd want to study his body after he was gone. One in particular had been on his radar for some time. He was a surgeon and collector of biological specimens named John Hunter, an apt name for someone

who spent his life in pursuit of rare cadavers. Prior to his death, Charles had asked a group of friends to make sure his body would be buried at sea, far from the hands of doctor Hunter. They agreed to his wishes, and after he passed away, had his body placed in a lead lined coffin before casting it to the bottom of the ocean. Looking back, it's a wonder that it sank at all, Given that the coffin had

been empty. There would have been no way for doctor Hunter to retrieve Charles's body once it had slipped beneath the waves. So the good doctor turned to his trust the assistant cold hard Cash. He paid Charles, Burns and Balmer to steal the corpse before it went into the coffin. Charles friends had no idea, at least not for a year. During that time, doctor Hunter performed all sorts of experiments on the late Irish giants corpse, leaving behind nothing more

than his oversized bones. His skeleton remains the centerpiece of the hunter Arian Museum at the Royal College of Surgeons in London. John Hunter's contributions to medicine can't be understated. Thanks to his research, we have a greater understanding of how our bones develop over time, and how gunshot wounds and venereal diseases affected By his legacy, However, we'll always have a large blemish upon it for not letting a poor young man rest in peace. Just how large, oh,

I'd say about seven and a half feet tall. No one knows how it got there or its true purpose. Its builder has left no written records. It has existed for thousands of years in the middle of a field in Wiltshire, England, where it draws nearly a million visitors each year. It's thirteen foot tall stones stands straight up, each weigh in about twenty five tons, and the method of its construction continues to baffle historians to this day. Stonehenge may not be one of the Seven Wonders of

the World, but it's no less on inspiring. When examined up close. The sheer enormity of the stones does make people wonder how they were moved and arranged in the first place. According to twelfth century writer Jeffrey of Monmouth, King Arthur's faithful wizard Merlin constructed it himself. But although it sits in a wide open meadow surrounded by grass,

visiting Stonehenge today requires the purchase of a ticket. It takes a whole team of guards, groundskeepers and restoration experts to keep the Neolithic structure intact, and that costs money. I've been there myself and paid the price of admission. In fact, money is what begins our story in the first place. During the early fifteen hundreds, King Henry the Eighth owned Stonehenge after seizing the land upon which it sat. It eventually passed down to the Earl of Hartford, followed

by countless other owners until eighteen twenty four. At that time, the site was purchased by a wealthy family from Cheshire, who maintained ownership for almost a century. Then, in nineteen fifteen, after the last heir to the land was killed fighting in France during World War One. The family put the land up for auction. The auction was held at the Palace Theater in Salisbury. Of all the people present, one

stood out Cecil Chub. He was born and Shrewden, about four miles from Stonehenge, and being a successful lawyer, had become quite wealthy. When the lot was announced, Cecil hadn't expected to bid, but the more he thought about it, the better the idea sounded to him. A Lot fifteen contained a little over thirty acres of land, including Stonehenge itself. When the final bid was collected, it was Cecil Chub who came out on top, having spent six thousand, six

hundred pounds. By today's standards, that puts the total at almost seven hundred thousand American dollars. He didn't hold on to the property long, though, he believed that such an iconic and wondrous site should not belong to just one person, but to a nation as a whole. In nineteen eighteen, three years after purchasing it, he formally rescinded his ownership and gave Stonehenge to England, though he also included a

number of conditions. First, all local residents should have free access to see at any time, and second, outside visitors should be charged no more than a shilling for entry. Since then, Stonehenge's value has gone up a bit. Locals are still allowed to see it at no cost, but visitors must pay five pounds to gaze upon the stones. If it were being sold at auction today, it's estimated that the ancient site could fetch as high as sixty

five million American dollars. Quite a smart investment in hindsight, but at the time there really wasn't any reason to own the land other than to build upon it. Chub had no interest in using the area for new construction, so why buy it at all? Well, he did it for the best reason of all, love, of course, love for his hometown, and love for his wife. He believed that if anyone was going to own that ring of stones, it should be a local man, not some company or

investor from overseas. And more importantly, he wanted to give his wife a special gift, something she could look at and remember just how much he loved her. As it turns out, she wasn't thrilled with his last minute per just which may have fueled his desire to give it back to England. However, his philanthropic gesture was recognized in n when he was made a baronet by Prime Minister Lloyd George, so perhaps the investment paid off after all. If there is a lesson to be learned here, though,

I think it's this. While it's a good idea to buy your true love a ring, buying them Stonehenge might be a bit too much. 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. Two