In 1860, a new planet called Vulcan was discovered. Despite its existence later being disproved, the idea would live long and prosper.
Louis Wain was born in London in 1860 and became one of Britain’s most recognizable illustrators through his highly anthropomorphic cat drawings, which often showed felines dressed in human clothing or engaging in everyday social activities.
His love of cats reportedly deepened through his wife Emily, who was diagnosed with cancer shortly after their marriage. To comfort her, Wain frequently sketched their pet cat, Peter, helping inspire the style that would define his career.
At the height of his fame in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Wain’s work appeared widely in newspapers, magazines, postcards, and children’s books, greatly influencing popular perceptions of cats and helping transform them into beloved household companions. Despite his success, Wain struggled financially throughout much of his life due to poor business decisions, limited copyright protections, and supporting his mother and sisters.
As he aged, his mental health declined, and he was eventually committed to psychiatric institutions. Though commonly labeled with schizophrenia, modern experts debate this diagnosis. Public concern over his welfare, including support from figures such as H. G. Wells, helped improve his living conditions, and he spent his later years in more comfortable hospitals where he continued creating art.
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The Pony Express — the legend that lasted only 18 months
From April 1860 to October 1861, riders carried mail 1,900 miles between Missouri and California in about 10 days, changing horses every 10–15 miles. It was killed not by failure but by success — the transcontinental telegraph, completed October 24, 1861, made it obsolete overnight.
The most romanticized institution in American history was barely a going concern.
We have a modern version of this playing out in AI…
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French antique opal bib necklace, circa 1860.
Wyoming hanged Tom Horn in 1903 on a machine specifically designed so that no human being would have to feel responsible for killing him.
Which, given what Tom Horn did for a living, is about as tidy as history ever gets.
He was born in Missouri in 1860 and left home at sixteen. He ended up in Arizona working for the Army as a packer, scout and interpreter under the chief of scouts Al Sieber during the Apache campaigns, and he was with the column that brought Geronimo in. He also won a steer roping championship out there. Years later he wrote an autobiography that inflated most of it considerably, which was standard for the genre.
In the early 1890s he worked for the Pinkerton agency out of Denver, running down train robbers. He was extremely good at the tracking part. He was reportedly much less interested in the part where you bring a man in alive.
Then he went north to Wyoming and hired on with the big cattle outfits as a stock detective.
The job title was a formality. What the cattlemen were paying for was for suspected rustlers to stop existing, and Horn delivered that with a rifle, at long range, frequently from a couple hundred yards, with nobody around to see it. Historians credit him with the 1900 killings of Matt Rash and Isom Dart in Brown's Park and suspect him in several others.
The line most often attributed to him is, "Killing men is my specialty. I look on it as a business proposition, and I think I have a corner on the market." Whether he actually said it is argued about. It was his reputation regardless, and he did nothing to discourage it.
Then on July 18, 1901, a 14 year old boy named Willie Nickell was shot dead by a gate at Iron Mountain.
Willie was big for his age, and he was wearing his father's coat and hat. His father, Kels Nickell, was running sheep in cattle country and was in a poisonous feud with his neighbors. Nearly everyone who has looked at it since has reached the same conclusion, which is that whoever fired thought he was shooting the father.
Six months later, a deputy US marshal named Joe LeFors got Horn into an office in Cheyenne to talk about a job in Montana. He got Horn drinking. He flattered him, and let him brag, and kept nudging.
Behind a door left open a crack in the next room sat a deputy and a court stenographer named Charles Ohnhaus, writing down every word.
Somewhere in that transcript is the sentence, "It was the best shot that I ever made and the dirtiest trick I ever done."
That was the case. Everything else the prosecution had was circumstantial. He was tried in an election year, in a state that had finally had enough of cattle barons buying outcomes, and the jury convicted him.
Here is the complicated part. Most historians who have gone back through the evidence now believe Tom Horn probably did not kill Willie Nickell. There were other suspects with better motive and better opportunity. The physical case was weak, and the confession was a drunk man performing for a lawman who was steering the conversation.
He had certainly killed people. He was very likely hanged for the wrong one.
He got out of the jail in August 1903 with a pistol taken off a guard, and then could not figure out how the pistol worked. A man on the street who happened to know that model took him back into custody.
So on November 20, 1903, one day short of his 43rd birthday, they walked him out to the gallows in Cheyenne.
That gallows had been built by a local architect named James Julian. Julian had come through the Civil War, and he had thought a long time about what it does to a man to be the one personally responsible for killing another. So he engineered the person out of it.
The condemned man stood on the trapdoor. His own weight tipped a lever that opened a valve on a water tank. The water ran out of the tank into a pan below, and as it drained the balance shifted, and when enough had run the mechanism pulled the bolt and the floor opened.
Nobody pulled a lever. Nobody gave a signal. The man walked onto the platform, started the clock with his own body, and then stood there listening to water run.
For Tom Horn it took about 35 seconds.
A newspaper of the day described the machine as a device that simply compelled the condemned to commit suicide.
Tom Horn had spent his career being the instrument that wealthy men used so that they would never have to be the ones who pulled the trigger.
Wyoming killed him with a machine built on exactly the same idea.
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At Tozenji Temple, Cultural Affairs Officer Sunshine Ison learned about Oguri Kozukenosuke, a central figure in Japan’s first 1860 delegation to the United States, whose work helped build the foundations of early U.S.-Japan ties and propelled Japan’s rise as a shipbuilding nation. His legacy resonates today as the United States moves to reinvigorate its own shipbuilding industry together with allies like Japan. ⚓🌏
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Between 1820 and 1900, real GDP per capita in the United States grew eightfold. No welfare state. No central bank. No income tax. The federal government consumed less than 3% of GDP for most of that period, and the results speak for themselves.
Secure property rights, contract enforcement, and a commodity-backed dollar created the conditions where capital formation exploded. Entrepreneurs knew that what they built, they kept. John D. Rockefeller drove kerosene prices from 58 cents per gallon in 1865 to under 8 cents by 1885, delivering affordable light to millions of ordinary households, not through government mandate but through relentless productive competition.
Real wages for manufacturing workers doubled between 1860 and 1890. Immigration surged because workers across Europe calculated, correctly, that their labor earned more in Philadelphia or Pittsburgh than anywhere in the old world. Markets made that signal clear.
Critics point to inequality, child labor, and dangerous working conditions, ignoring that mass poverty preceded industrial capitalism. Andrew Carnegie's Pittsburgh was brutal, but it was also dramatically better than the subsistence farming the workers' grandparents had endured.
The railroad network grew from 9,000 miles in 1850 to over 160,000 miles by 1890, financed almost entirely by private capital once you exclude the genuinely corrupt land-grant subsidies, which free market thinkers condemned at the time. State intervention produced scandals; private lines produced the freight.
Minimal government produced the fastest sustained material improvement in recorded human history to that point.
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The Rakotzbrücke in Germany. A bridge that turns into a perfect stone circle.
The arch is only the top half. The water gives you the bottom half, and the two meet into a circle. They built it that way on purpose in 1860. Nobody is allowed to walk on it. You can only look.
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Trader 9VQbih finally gave up after holding $SOL for a year, selling all 31,862 $SOL($3.25M) at a $2.2M loss.
A year ago, he bought 30,002 $SOL($5.47M) at $182 and staked it, earning 1,860 $SOL($190K) in staking rewards.
But with $SOL down, he still lost $2.2M overall.
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Wall Street launches the most ETFs right before the top, when sentiment is at its highest.
Every single time.
1996: 677 IPOs. Market peaked 2000.
2007: 291 ETF launches. Market peaked that October.
2022: 458 ETF launches. Market peaked that January.
2026: on pace for 1,860.
Leveraged single stock ETFs. Meme coin ETFs. AI ETFs. When there's an ETF for everything, that is the best time to be cautious.
While others chase, you raise cash gradually. Always do the opposite of the majority.
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