Grain of Salt

sink each got their starts in China. China was the birthplace of many inventions we still use today, including the wooden coffin, paper currency, and the common match. Most importantly, though, China was responsible for what has been cleared the Four Great Inventions by British scientists and sinologist Joseph Needham. These were inventions that were not only indicative of China's advancements in the field of science and technology, but also profoundly

changed the world. The four Great inventions that need enlisted were paper, the compass, movable type printing, and a unique explosive substance known as gunpowder. Gunpowder revolutionized how wars were fought, when it was first applied to arrows, which were ignited and then launched toward enemies. The chemical formula for gunpowder first appeared around the eleventh century during the Song dynasty. In one iteration, it was said to have been made

by combining six parts sulfur to six parts saltpeter. The more it was used, however, the more the formula was tweaked to burn longer and provide a greater bang for the buck. Gunpowder brought forth a new age of weaponry. Bombs and early gun type weapons called fire lances made their debut over the coming years. It's been speculated that the Mongols first introduced year up to gunpowder in twelve forty one during the Battle of Mohi in Hungary. Obviously,

good inventions tend to spread. By the mid thirteenth century, gunpowder had been adopted by the Middle East and Europe. Kings and generals couldn't get enough of it. The black powder was more valuable than gold in many ways, as it gave those who possessed it a major advantage on the battlefield. But outside of China, gunpowder was difficult to make thanks to one key ingredient, saltpeter. Saltpeter was the name given to a variety of nitrate salts, such as

calcium nitrates and potassium nitrates. Saltpeter got its name from its white color and powdery texture, but even though it looked like common table salt, it was not as commonly found. During the Middle Ages, no one knew how to manufacture saltpeter, but they did notice that it grew in some less than pleasant places. You see, cleanliness was not a main focus for most Europeans for a long time. The lack of clean water meant bathing only happened occasionally, if ever

at all. Human waste was often funneled down into cesspools, while castles had it dropped into their moats to make the water unsafe for enemies to swim through. One accidental byproduct of all this refuse saltpeter. It was scraped from floors, barns, and cesspits all over Europe and collected to make gunpowder. This spawned an entire industry of cleaners called peterman who would enter people's homes and harvest the calcium nitrate. Of course,

that created a whole new problem. When surfaces were clean, saltpeter wouldn't grow. After a while, a shortage forced people to think outside the box and inside the barn. You see, saltpeter wasn't a fungus or a type of mold. It didn't grow in the natural sense. It was left behind

by the bacteria that fed on waste. Horses and other livestock would relieve themselves on the floors of their stables, and that urine would soak in and wicke its way up the plaster like walls, becoming a breeding ground for saltpeter, as did feces, and so saltpeter farming was born. Farmers looking to make extra gold or silver cultivated the deposits left by their own livestock. They stored it for months, sometimes a year at a time, and let nature do

its work. When it was finally viable, the enterprising farmers would then purify it and sell it. Horses, sheep, cattle, and even dogs were put to work eating and pooping for the good of their countries. Through trial and error, the farmers managed to discern which kinds of waste rendered the most potent saltpeter. This ingenuity, combined with an abundance of domesticated animals, helped Europe surpass all other nations in

saltpeter production and strength. They also learned that horses and cows did not produce the best saltpeter, that came from a very different beast. Entirely, the best saltpeter came from the urine of animals that were all too common back then. They roamed the land and went to the bathroom wherever they stood, and honestly, they couldn't help themselves. The strongest saltpeter you see was produced by drunks in rural Texas,

in entertainment was hard to come by. Aside from the Sunday church services and social groups, folks had to look for ways to keep themselves occupied. But every once in a while something would happen that would horrify and enthrall them. Disasters, both man made and natural, made for welcome distractions from the mundanity of their lives, and in eighteen six such a disaster arrived, one so explosive it captivated forty thou people and killed two all because of one man's actions.

His name was William George Crush, and he worked for the Missouri Kansas Texas Railroad, also known as the Caddy. Caddy had been successful up until that time, earning over four million dollars the previous year from both passenger ticket sales and hauling freight. However, other railroad companies hadn't fared so well since the start of an economic depression in Many had gone belly up, and Crush had no intention

of letting Caddies succumb to the same fate. One way the railroad had found to boost their revenues was by boosting the size of their locomotives. The old thirty five tons steamers had been retired in favor of sixty ton models capable of moving faster, traveling farther, and carrying more weight. That left the Caddy with an abundance of older, smaller locomotives and nowhere to put them. So Crush came up

with an idea. He'd bring two of the old steam engines to Texas and invite people to come out and watch them roll through town before they disappeared for good. With permission from the company's higher ups, the enterprising agent commissioned to thirty five ton locomotives and had a long track installed just north of Waco in a temporary town

that he called Crush. He saw this event as a big ticket draw for the local population and made sure that there were plenty of concession stands and a restaurant ready to accommodate them all. Now, a couple of trains passing through town doesn't sound like a lot of fun for most people today, but in eight nineties six, it was better than nothing. On September fift visitors paid two dollars for their own train tickets to travel up to Crush,

Texas and watch the locomotives go by. Two hundred police officers swarmed the makeshift town to keep everyone in line, which proved more difficult than they had expected. The crowds pressed forward, hoping to get close to the action, as the police pushed them back to a safer distance. Crush had become a microcosm of Greater Texas, with individuals from

all walks of life and attendance. Farmers stood beside doctors, lawyers mingled with shopkeepers, and the audience had grown from ten thousand in the morning to forty by four pm. William Crush rode into town on a white horse. Just after five pm, a site that might have appeared as an omen to Simon the crowd with a wave of his hat. The trains took off. They chugged along the track with box cars full of railroad ties, picking up

speed as they went, except something was wrong. The trains had been oriented in opposite directions on the same track. The crowd leaned in as the locomotives pushed forward, steam spewing from their stacks while their whistles filled the air with shrieks of panic. The ground rumbled, people gasped. Within moments, the two trains had collided head first. Wood splintered and metal groaned as each of their boilers exploded, sending shrapnel

and debris flying into the sky. Everyone ran from the scene when they realized that what went up had to come down. Pieces of the trains crashed into two unfortunate souls. Six others were injured, including a photographer who was partially blinded by a torpedo like bolt that took out one of his eyes. However, despite the tragedy, the event went off exactly as Crush had hoped. The trains were never meant to just roll lawned by each other. He'd set up the crash at Crush as a publicity stunt to

improve business for the local railroad. His managers, though, were less than pleased. William was immediately fired after the event, before being rehired the very next day. It turns out that the spectacle had been a huge success, and newspaper headlines had declared Crush a marketing genius. Other railroads put on their own crashes in the years to come, but few would capture the electricity of the one that had

been staged in Texas. Advertising can be brutal. Building excitement for a product takes finesse and an understanding of what customers want, sometimes before they even know they want it. But for people in Texas, in what they wanted was pretty simple to see two trains crash. 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 curi Pocities 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, Yeah,