Going Under

industries were also upgraded. One of the most significant and the oldest, was beer. The actual method of brewing and storing beer hadn't changed much over the past few hundred years, but as with any period of change, competition bred growth. Literally, London brewery started building their own cisterns and bats larger

and larger. Capacities quickly grew from two hundred barrels worth of beer all the way up to nearly ten times that amount, large enough for one craft brewery to actually host a dinner party for one hundred guests inside a single empty vat. Of course, revolutions don't just happen. They're built up over long periods of trial and error, and when you're racing competitors to build the largest beer vats

in the city, errors are bound to crop up. It was a Monday evening in October in eighteen fourteen when it happened a leak had sprung at the Henry mow and Company Brewery in central London. Well leak might be an understatement. A vat holding thirty five hundred barrels or one hundred and thirty five thousand liters of beer, burst wide open. The del uge was so powerful that it also knocked over a number of casks of porter, resulting in an ocean of ale to totaling over one point

four seven million liters. The flood ripped through one of the brewery's twenty five foot brick walls like it was paper, and collapsed part of the roof. Streets became rivers, and nearby houses were obliterated. On the first floor of one such house, a mother and her young daughter were at tea when a wave of beer swept them away, killing them instantly. Others in the vicinity were carried off in

the flood or crushed to death by debris. One major problem contributing to the higher death toll and complicated rescue efforts was the town's flatness, which prevented the beer from draining away. Instead, it simply poured into basements and washed out roadways. The current of the flood was so strong that it dragged debris from the homes it had destroyed, which created obstacles for rescuers trying to reach their victims. By the time rescuers were able to reach the areas

hit the hardest, it was already too late. Bodies began floating up from the ruins around midnight, including that of a woman who had been in her backyard at the time and had been buried under the wreck of her home. All told, eight people perished in the flood. As you should know by now, the story doesn't end there. A week after the disaster, the brewery was taken to court to determine the cause of the accidents. A brewery employee by the name of George Crick came forward with his

account of what had caused the flood. George had noticed one of the iron hoops holding the vat together had fallen off. Now I know what you're thinking, Why didn't George just picked the hoop back up and grab some tools and put it right back where it belonged. Right? Well, these weren't the usual metal hoops you might find around pickle barrels. Each of these weighed roughly one metric ton.

George and the owners had determined that the rivets holding the hoop to the barrel had simply worn out over time, and, like the button on a pair of pants two sizes too small, they popped out. The weight of the liquid inside of too much for the vat to handle, and the rest, as they say, is history history, but also

a tragedy. Lives were lost, homes were destroyed, businesses were closed, and, most tragic of all, even though the accident was a product of human error, the brewery got off without a hitch. In fact, a year later they managed to get the Crown to give them back the tax money they paid on the lost beer. The court might have called it an act of God, but looking back, I think a larger, more universal truth needs pointed out. However obvious it might be,

some people just can't hold their liquor. They say, necessity is the mother of invention. When spears weren't enough to stop and end me, bows and arrows were created. When those outlived their usefulness, along came guns and rifles to get the job done. War transformed as weapons advanced, but one thing never changed the ingenuity of desperate men faced with impossible odds. That ingenuity was on full display during the American Civil War, when battles weren't just fought in

fields and towns, but along coastlines and rivers. These waterways were used to transport supplies, ammunition, and even soldiers from one location to another. An army controlling the water could cripple the opposing forces access to necessary items such as food and medical equipment. The water was also used as a venue for surprise attacks. Soldiers marching near an enemy controlled waterway would often find themselves ambushed by waiting gunboats.

Rivers and coastlines quickly became a crucial part of an army strategy, and if an enemy wanted a chance at survival, that had to either avoid the water entirely or use it to its advantage. It was at the height of the Civil War when such an advantage presented itself. A Union blockade had been stationed in the waters off Charleston, South Carolina, led by a steam powered sloop of war

known as the Hughes Satonic. Armed with a dozen cannons, the Hughes Satonic was known for capturing Confederate ships like the four hundred ton iron hulled steamer the s S. Georgiana. The Confederacy needed to break up the blockade to open up Charleston shores, but to do so, the Hughes Satonic had to go. There was only one problem. The ship was five miles off the coast. Any opposing vessel launched from the shore, it would be seen immediately and destroyed.

So the Confederate army had an outrageous idea. What if they attacked it from below. It took them two years of trial and error, but a submersible was finally developed that could carry eight men. They would travel beneath the water to the Hugh Satonic, where the men would detonate a tord pedo along the enemy's hull. Something to keep in mind, though, unlike our modern torpedoes that propelled themselves through the water, the Hunley carried what was known as

a spar torpedo. It was basically a canister of explosive powder attached to the end of a long pole, which would be rammed into the opposing ship. On the night of February eighteen sixty four, the Hunley and its crew slipped into the waters off the coast of Charleston. Powered by hand crank, it glided towards the Housatonic, that explosive

payload leading the charge about twenty ft ahead. Later, one of the Housatonic crew members would report that he had seen something strange in the water, something large and mysterious, but before he could alert his crewmates it was too late. The Hunley jab the Housatonic starboard side add about eight forty PM and made history. Those eight men had completed

the first successful submarine attack on a warship. Five crew members aboard the Housatonic died as the ship sank, and if the story ended there, that alone would be enough to cement the Hunley spot in Civil War legend. But there was something else. According to initial reports, everything had gone swimmingly Nope, pun intended. I swear, the Housatonic had been destroyed and the Hunley had begun its return to base, except it never made it. The sub and all eight

lives inside had been lost. Although for almost a century and a half no one was sure why. The mystery would remain unsolved until the mid nineteen nineties when the vessel was found at the bottom of Charleston's Outer Harbor in the summer of two thousand, marine archaeologists raised the Hunley from the depths and got to work restoring the vessel. Experts spent months cleaning up the hull before opening it to see what was inside. And that's when the end

of one mystery led to the start of another. You see, the eight crew members hadn't gotten out after the torpedo detonated, A sad end to a daring operation, for sure, but that's not the crazy part. Upon opening up the hall a conservation experts noticed the crew had never even made any attempt to escape. There were no external injuries or signs of drowning the explosion. They believe it's simply been so strong that the lung and brain tissue of the

men inside had been instantly obliterated. Sometimes you win and sometimes you lose, and sometimes apparently you do both. 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. H