Roman

the grounds of Buckingham Palace, black ribbons in hand. The nation was in mourning just a day before Queen Elizabeth had passed away, ending her seventy year reign over the United Kingdom. The Queen's death was the top story broadcast worldwide. It seemed like practically everyone on earth had heard the news, but still till someone had to tell the bees. As part of his duties as Royal beekeeper, John went hive to hive, tying black ribbons to their entrances and informing

the bees their mistress had moved on. They shouldn't worry. He told them their new master, King Charles the Third, would be good to them. For centuries, beekeepers just like John have been careful to inform their buzzing charges when their owners die. According to superstition, if the bees weren't told bad things could happen to the colony, they might

fly away, stop producing honey, or even die themselves. It's not clear when or where exactly the superstition started, but records of the practice exist throughout the UK, Ireland, Germany, France, the Czech Republic, and even parts of the United States now. Telling the bees is a ritual that differs from place to place. In some traditions, the hive was turned so that it could watch the funeral procession. In others, it was customary to leave a piece of cake from the

service as a gift to the bees. Any of these customs highlight the historically close relationship between humans and bees. They aren't just fuzzy bugs. They're important members of the household, with their own thoughts, feelings, and grief. In one case, the Associated Press reported on back in nineteen fifty six, the bees actually attended a funeral when a beekeeper named John Zeppa died in the Berkshires in western Massachusetts. His mourners arrived at the tent erected over the grave to

find a swarm of unexpected guests. According to the news article. Bees buzzed lazily around the ceiling of the tent and rested on the funerary flowers. Perhaps it was their way of saying goodbye to their beloved caretaker. Although the practice comes from nineteenth century folklore, its roots may actually be ancient. Bees have been associated with death and the underworld for millennia.

In ancient Egypt, for example, honey was important in certain burial rituals and may even have been used to preserve bodies. Because honey is anti microbe, it can slow bacteria as they break tissue down. This is probably why honey was also used in Babylon, where Babylonians supposedly buried their dead in the liquid. In both Egyptian and Celtic mythologies, bees were seen as messengers that could cross boundaries into the realm of the gods or the land of the dead.

When Christianity spread to Celtic lands, early Christians co opted these beliefs as well. But don't worry, you don't have to wait for someone to die to talk to your ap and amigos. In fact, many of the traditions about talking to bees maintained that you must keep them updated on all new changes to a household, deaths, births, marriages, and children moving out. Throughout the Victorian era, it was customary to decorate hives with flowers for a wedding in

the United Kingdom. Perhaps this was their way of getting bees into the party spirit. In some cases, it was necessary to make sure the bees were fed too, by leaving them a slice of wedding cake, and in certain regions of Germany, newly weds needed to introduce themselves as a couple to the bees of the household lest they suffer an unhappy marriage. Today, we know that bees play an important role in all of our lives, whether we

have hives in our backyard or not. Bees are essential to pollinating plants, from the trees that give us shade and oxygen to the crops that feed us. Without them, we all suffer, and with the rise of pesticides, habitat loss, and global warming, the bees need our help if they hope to survive. So go tell those bees thanks for all their hard work. And if you're dealing with grief, maybe try telling the bees bitter loss can go down

easier with just a bit of honey. Many of us wish that we could get on a horse and ride into the countryside, never to be bothered by civilization again. We dream of setting up our own little kingdoms where everyone does what we say and agrees that we are the best person to lead. Of course, this is all ego, and most of us lack the arrogance and persistence that it would take to truly become a cult like king figure. But of course history is full of those who took

their monarchical ambitions beyond the realm of their imagination. None, however, have ever done it with as much bizarre brutal flare as the Baron Roman von ungen Sternberg. Roman was always a troubled boy, to say the least, the kind who creeps out all of his classmates and even the teachers. Born into Baltic German nobility, his favorite childhood hobby was dissecting small animals. It worked out for him, then, that by the time he reached adulthood, World War One broke

out and he was enlisted as an officer. His family had sent sworn allegiance to the Tsar of Russia, and so he fought viciously for that nation. But Roman's violent tendencies got the better of him. Man. He was eventually court martialed and jailed for slicing another officer in the face with his sword. Once again, history was on his side, as the Russian Revolution of nineteen seventeen began a civil

war between the Bolshevik Reds and the monarchist Whites. The whites needed all the help they could get and welcomed Roman into their ranks. Roman was a lunatic, but he was a loyal noble through and through. He hated the communist Bolsheviks, not just because they threatened his family's wealth, but because he literally associated them with demonic forces. You see, Roman bought into the mysticism craze that swept the nobles of Europe during this time. He followed a strange mixture

of Lutheranism, Buddhism, and occult beliefs. As such, he believed in the divine right of kings, the journey of the Spirit towards enlightenment, and was adamantly antisemitic. When the Whites sent him to guard the Chinese border while they fought the Bolsheviks, he took on the mission as his holy duty. He oversaw his territory with deadly zeal, executing any civilian or officer who dissobate his orders or committed what he

saw as a sin. The only problem was the Whites rapidly lost the civil war, with the Tzar being executed in nineteen eighteen. All of Roman's diligence was for nothing. Completely disillusion and looking for a sign from God, he received it when Bog Khan, the monarch of Mongolia, reached out to him to form an alliance. The Chinese had invaded Mongolia and the Khan needed help driving them out.

This suited Roman just fine. If he couldn't defend the Tsar anymore as a cavalryman, then he would defend the Khan as one of his warlords. And so from nineteen nineteen to nineteen twenty one, Roman led his small army on hit and run attacks against the Chinese in Mongolia. They often overwhelmed much larger forces, too. None of his men dared to go against him. The Chinese might shoot you or stab you, but Roman he would boil you alive in an oven, or whip you until your flesh

fell off your bones. His ultimate victory, though, came when he had his men surround the Chinese held Mongolian capital with bonfires making it look as if the city was surrounded by a huge horde. It was as if Genghis Khan had come back to life to reclaim his homeland. And once they breached the walls, they rushed in and he slaughtered all of the Chinese and European Jews that he found inside. It was a vicious and bloody act

in a vicious and bloody time. By today's standards, Roman was a monster, but to the Mongols he was a god. In fact, when Roman returned the capital to Bugged Khan, the Khan gave him an honorary title and referred to him as the God of War. Roman dreamed of continuing his crusade, leading the Mongols to capture China and Russia, creating a Mongol Russian empire that would eventually conquer the world, but he seems to have forgotten about the massive Red

army to the north. When the Bolsheviks now better known as the Soviets, heard that the white Russian commander had conquered Mongolia, they wasted no time in sending troops to take it back from him. They installed the Communist government and executed Roman by firing squad. He died at thirty five, having lived a life that was equal parts ambitious and horrific, and taught us the lesson that the best way to unite is not to divide. 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 Mankey 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 Worldolore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.