11 Facts About the Battle of Yorktown

Generals Rochambeau and Washington give the last orders for attack at the siege of Yorktown. With them is the Marquis de Lafayette. Circa 1781.
Generals Rochambeau and Washington give the last orders for attack at the siege of Yorktown. With them is the Marquis de Lafayette. Circa 1781.
Hulton Archive, Getty Images

From the perspective of the American rebels and their French allies, the Battle of Yorktown (also known as the Siege of Yorktown) was an extremely lucky break. Pouncing on a narrow window of opportunity, the American and French forces laid siege to a small town on the Virginia coast and captured thousands of enemy soldiers. That sudden blow was what compelled Great Britain to ultimately recognize the rebellious colonies as one sovereign nation, ending the American War for Independence. Yet the siege on Yorktown might have gone very differently if it hadn't been for some bad weather and deceptive bread ovens. Here's what you should know about the battle that changed the world.

1. INSTEAD OF GOING TO YORKTOWN, GEORGE WASHINGTON WANTED TO RETAKE NEW YORK CITY.

The ink was barely dry on the Declaration of Independence when New York was attacked by the British. On August 27, 1776, General William Howe led a force of 35,000 British and German soldiers to Brooklyn. The Redcoats and Hessians seized Manhattan, the Bronx, Long Island, Staten Island, and surrounding regions, and New York City was held under British occupation for seven years. It became a convenient military outpost for the invading force. According to Valerie Paley of the New York Historical Society, "We were the British base of command until the end of the war."

Having suffered a bitter defeat when the Redcoats attacked Brooklyn in '76, General George Washington was eager to reclaim New York—and it looked like he would finally get his chance in 1781. There had been some indication that ally François Joseph Paul, Comte de Grasse—an admiral in the French navy—might be sailing toward New York City with a 24-warship fleet that year (a fleet that seemed necessary if Washington wanted to lay siege to the island). But on August 14, Washington learned that the count was taking his vessels down to Virginia instead.

"I was obliged … to give up all idea of attacking New York," Washington wrote in his diary. At the time, he was in Westchester County, New York, as were the French General the Comte de Rochambeau and his troops. On August 18, the two commanders began an arduous journey. Leading a combined force of more than 2600 Americans and 4600 Frenchmen, they set out on a long march to Virginia. Their target was Lord Charles Cornwallis. A decorated British General, Cornwallis had served at the battle of Brooklyn and spent the past few years fighting in the American south. Now he was courting disaster at a place called Yorktown.

2. A NAVAL CLASH HELPED DETERMINE THE OUTCOME …

General Cornwallis had put thousands of British-led soldiers in a vulnerable situation. During the summer of 1781, Cornwallis was ordered to fortify a naval base along the Virginia coast. So he and the 7000 troops under his command set up shop in Yorktown, a seaside tobacco hub. Geography put them at a major disadvantage. Because the city was perched at the tip of a York River peninsula, the Franco-American allies figured that if they could hit Yorktown with a naval blockade and a strong land-based siege, Cornwallis and his men would be hopelessly isolated. Their subsequent capture might bring the whole war to an end.

Any opportunity to nab Cornwallis was too good to pass up, but going after him like this was a big gamble. Time was of the essence; if British reinforcements made it to Yorktown before the city fell, the campaign could turn into a bloody disaster. Enter the Comte de Grasse: On August 30, 1781, his fleet dropped reached the Chesapeake Bay, where the admiral transferred supplies and men to the waiting Marquis de Lafayette. One week later, the Comte de Grasse's naval force engaged with a 19-warship British fleet that had been sent to find it.

A two and a half-hour sea battle broke out. The French prevailed, damaging six British vessels and killing 90 sailors in the process. (De Grasse only suffered damage to two ships.) Had the British won, the seamen aboard those Royal Navy vessels might have landed in Yorktown and given Cornwallis the backup he so desperately needed. Instead, the groundwork was laid for a Franco-American victory.

3. … AND SO DID FRENCH BREAD OVENS.

So far as Cornwallis—and most of England—was concerned, Yorktown fell because the British Commander-In-Chief waited too long to throw a lifeline. General Howe had resigned his post three years earlier and was succeeded by General Sir Henry Clinton, who took control of the British forces in North America in 1778. He made some critical errors regarding the Yorktown siege.

For one thing, the allies managed to trick him. Clinton was headquartered in New York City and throughout the summer of 1781, he braced himself for an assault on NYC that never came. By late August (as we've seen), the Franco-American military leaders had decided to strike Virginia instead. But in order for their southern invasion to work, they needed to keep Clinton distracted. "If the enemy perceive that we [have given up] the idea of attacking New York," explained one of Washington's advisors, "they will reinforce [General Cornwallis] before we can get there."

So while the Washington-Rochambeau march was underway, the allies built a number of French-style, brick bread ovens in northern New Jersey, which fooled British spies into thinking that Rochambeau and the Americans were about to set up a huge army encampment just a few miles away from Staten Island. To help sell the ruse, Franco-American troops spread false rumors about a planned invasion of New York. The Brits bought it—for a little while, anyway. Clinton didn't figure out that Washington and Rochambeau were en route to Yorktown until September. And once the threat became clear, he didn't respond to Cornwallis's requests for backup troops right away. General Clinton finally sent a ship with 7000 reinforcements on October 19—the day Cornwallis surrendered and Yorktown was handed over to the allies. Of course, by that point it was too late.

4. IT WAS A BATTLE OF BARRICADES, TRENCHES, AND INTENTIONAL SHIPWRECKS.

Map of Yorktown, Virginia, showing the military layout, as related to the American Revolutionary War siege there.
Map of Yorktown, Virginia, showing the military layout, as related to the American Revolutionary War siege there.
Edward J. Lowell's The Hessians, Wikimedia Commons // Public Domain

Building strong defenses was Cornwallis's number one priority. As soon as the general arrived in Yorktown on August 1, he started planning out physical barriers that would help safeguard the city from invaders. A line of four redoubts (hill-like fortifications made with dirt, wood, and sod) was built to the north of Gloucester Point, a neighboring village across the York River. Several others were made around Yorktown itself, including a massive, star-shaped one to the northwest that became known as "Fusiliers Redoubt." There were underwater barriers, too. Fearing a French naval strike, Cornwallis deliberately sunk around a dozen of his own ships near the mouth of the river, which he hoped would block other vessels from coming in.

The allied forces had their own construction projects. French and American troops spent the night of October 6 digging a 2000-yard trench that ran parallel to Cornwallis's southeastern redoubts and terminated near the York River. Legend has it that George Washington himself started things off there by being the first soldier in either army to swing a pick into the soil.

5. ROTTING HORSES STUNK UP THE PLACE.

To be successful, a siege needs to cut off the target's supply lines. Food, water, and other necessities grew scarce as the allies closed in around Yorktown. When it became clear that he wouldn't be able to feed his men and the hundreds of horses they'd commandeered from local farmers, Cornwallis got rid of the animals. After releasing some very bony steeds into the wild, he ordered that the rest of them be slaughtered on September 30. Around 400 horse carcasses were then dumped into the York River. The tide pushed many of them ashore, tainting the air with a hideous stench.

6. ALEXANDER HAMILTON LED A VITAL ATTACK.

Officially, the Battle of Yorktown lasted from September 28 to October 19, 1781. A pivotal moment took place on October 14. Two of the most strategically important bits of real estate in the whole siege were earthen barricades named Redoubt Number Nine and Redoubt Number 10, which had been built by Cornwallis's men to help block access to Yorktown from the south. During the battle, the allies slowly advanced beyond their original trench line and moved closer to the city itself, putting added pressure on the boxed-in British troops. As ground was gained, work began on a second parallel trench. But in order to finish it, the allies had to take Redoubts Nine and 10.

A dramatic attack on them both began at 8 p.m. on October 14. Wilhelm Graf von Zweibrücken—a German Lieutenant Colonel serving under Rochambeau—stormed Number Nine with 400 men. He lost 114 soldiers to death or injury during the first seven minutes of the struggle, but in the end, von Zweibrücken prevailed and seized the fortification.

Meanwhile, Redoubt 10 was taken by Colonel Alexander Hamilton, who almost didn't get the gig. Lafayette wanted his assistant Jean-Joseph Sourbader de Gimat to lead the assault, but Hamilton—who'd long hungered for glory—convinced General Washington to hand him the reins. The future Treasury Secretary's work was cut out for him: Once he made it to the redoubt, Hamilton had to leap over a ring of sharpened tree limbs at the top of the structure. But within the span of 10 minutes, he and the 400 men at his command captured Redoubt 10. By Hamilton's count, only nine of his troops were killed in the process and just over 30 were wounded.

7. THERE WERE A LOT OF GERMAN SOLDIERS ON BOTH SIDES.

Von Zweibrücken was part of the Royal Deux-Ponts Regiment, a unit of thousand-plus soldiers that were all recruited from Zweibrücken, a state that's now part of southern Germany. Originally created by the local Duke Christian IV to help pay off his debts to French King Louis XV, the regiment fought on France's behalf in both the Seven Years' War (against Prussia) and the American Revolution. At Yorktown, it incurred heavy casualties. As a token of his gratitude, George Washington gave the regiment one of the British brass cannons that had been captured. Rochambeau thanked them with two extra days' worth of pay.

Ironically enough, when the Royal Deux-Ponts attacked Redoubt Number Nine, they went up against another group of Germans. The Musketeer Regiment von Bose was a Hessian mercenary force from Hesse-Kassel that helped the British conquer Savannah, Georgia and Charleston, South Carolina. At Yorktown, they were one of four German units under Cornwallis's command. On October 14, the Musketeer Regiment worked alongside some of their British colleagues in an attempt to defend Redoubt Nine.

8. GENERAL CORNWALLIS DIDN'T SURRENDER IN PERSON.

Bad weather was what finally doomed Cornwallis. An October 16 British assault on the main allied line failed to make any significant headway. That night, their troops tried to sneak across the York River and escape through Gloucester Point. But their evacuation plans were foiled by a violent storm that blew in unexpectedly and made crossing the waterway impossible. Optionless and exhausted, Cornwallis threw in the towel.

Peace talks started the very next morning. Allied soldiers were treated to the sight of a British drummer boy and a red-coated officer carrying a white flag out of Yorktown at 9 a.m. on October 17. The two sides didn't finish negotiating the terms of surrender until October 19. Ordinarily, Cornwallis—as the defeated general—would have made an appearance at the formal surrendering ceremony that occurred that day. But Cornwallis claimed he was feeling ill and sent his second in command, Brigadier General Charles O'Hara, in his place.

9. "THE WORLD TURNED UPSIDE DOWN" MIGHT NOT HAVE BEEN PLAYED AFTERWARDS.

"I have the honor to inform congress," Washington wrote on October 19, "that a reduction of the British army under the command of Lord Cornwallis is most happily effected." Apart from select officers who were granted parole, all of the British land troops, mariners, and seamen were taken as prisoners of war under the agreed-upon surrender terms.

It's frequently said that as the defeated British poured out of Yorktown, their drummers and fifers played a familiar battle march called "The World Turned Upside Down." But this may be untrue. There's no reference to the song in any of the firsthand historical records from the Battle of Yorktown, with the Library of Congress dating the first reference to 1828. Nevertheless, Lin-Manuel Miranda decided to weave its title into the score of his Tony Award-winning show, Hamilton: An American Musical.

10. TECHNICALLY, THE WAR LASTED UNTIL 1783.

Though the Yorktown Siege is rightly considered a decisive victory, the Revolutionary War did not officially end until after the Treaty of Paris was signed on September 3, 1783. Yorktown laid the groundwork for that historic moment. With the surrender of General Cornwallis, the British lost one third of their forces in North America. Public opinion and the British Parliament both turned against the war effort once the bad news crossed the Atlantic. Supposedly, when Prime Minister Frederick North learned about the Yorktown catastrophe, he exclaimed, "Oh God, it is all over!"

In fact, things were just getting started. The following April, American and British diplomats met up in Paris, France to discuss ending the hostilities between their countries. A preliminary agreement between Great Britain and the new United States of America was reached in November 1782. But before that could take effect, the British had to negotiate terms with France, Spain, and the Dutch Republic—all of whom had also been at war with the royal superpower.

While statesmen debated in Paris, fighting continued around the world. Military clashes between the European powers broke out overseas and in western North America. Meanwhile, American rebels kept skirmishing with redcoats on future U.S. soil. (Present-day Robertson County, Kentucky witnessed one of these post-Yorktown battles on August 19, 1782.) George Washington—wisely—decided not to immediately disband the continental army until the Treaty of Paris had been finalized by all parties involved. The last lingering British soldiers left the United States on November 23, 1783.

11. YORKTOWN WAS ALSO THE SITE OF A CIVIL WAR BATTLE.

Nearly a century later, Yorktown, Virginia weathered another military siege. From April 5 to May 4, 1862, more than 100,000 blue-jacketed troops landed there in an early phase of Union General George B. McClellan's ill-fated attempt to capture Richmond. Around Yorktown, they met an initial force of 13,000 Confederates led by Major General J. Bankhead Magruder. The rebels eventually withdrew to Williamsburg as McClellan pushed his way across the peninsula. Southern land mines and a northern hot air balloon were employed during this struggle. For his part, Magruder couldn't help but comment on the area's historical significance. In a letter designed to rally his men, the major general reminded them that "The long war of the Revolution culminated at length in victorious triumph on these very plains of Yorktown."

Eliza Leslie: The Most Influential Cookbook Writer of the 19th Century

American cookbook author Eliza Leslie
American cookbook author Eliza Leslie
Wikimedia // Public Domain

If it wasn't for Eliza Leslie, American recipes might look very different. Leslie wrote the most popular cookbook of the 19th century, published a recipe widely credited as being the first for chocolate cake in the United States, and authored fiction for both adults and children. Her nine cookbooks—as well as her domestic management and etiquette guides—made a significant mark in American history and society, despite the fact that she never ran a kitchen of her own.

Early Dreams

Born in Philadelphia on November 15, 1787, to Robert and Lydia Leslie, Eliza was an intelligent child and a voracious reader. Her dream of becoming a writer was nurtured by her father, a prosperous watchmaker, inventor, and intellectual who was friends with Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson. She once wrote that "the dream of my childhood [was] one day seeing my name in print."

Sadly, her father’s business failed around the turn of the 19th century and he died in 1803. The family took in boarders to make ends meet, and as the oldest of five, Leslie helped her mother in the kitchen. To gain culinary experience, she attended Mrs. Goodfellow’s Cooking School in Philadelphia, the first school of its kind in the United States. Urged by her brother Thomas—and after fielding numerous requests for recipes from friends and family—she compiled her first book, Seventy-Five Receipts for Pastry, Cakes, and Sweetmeats, in 1828. Notably, the book included the term cup cake, referring to Leslie's employment of a teacup as a measuring tool ("two large tea-cups full of molasses")—possibly the first-ever mention of a cup cake in print.

Seventy-Five Receipts was a hit, and was reprinted numerous times. Encouraged by this success—and by her publisher, Munroe & Francis—Leslie moved on to her true desire: writing fiction. She penned short stories and storybooks for young readers as well as adult fiction and won several awards for her efforts. One of her prize-winning short stories, the humorous "Mrs. Washington Potts," appeared in Godey’s Lady’s Book, the popular 19th century magazine for which she also served as assistant editor. Leslie also contributed to Graham’s Magazine, the Saturday Gazette, and The Saturday Evening Post. At least one critic called her tales "perfect daguerreotypes of real life."

As much as Leslie loved writing fiction, however, it didn't always pay the bills. She wrote a second cookbook, Domestic French Cookery, in 1832, and achieved the pinnacle of her success in 1837 with Directions for Cookery. That work became the most beloved cookbook of the 1800s; it sold at least 150,000 copies and was republished 60 times by 1870. She offered pointers on procuring the best ingredients ("catfish that have been caught near the middle of the river are much nicer than those that are taken near the shore where they have access to impure food") and infused the book with wit. In a section discouraging the use of cold meat in soups, she wrote, "It is not true that French cooks have the art of producing excellent soups from cold scraps. There is much bad soup to be found in France, at inferior houses; but good French cooks are not, as is generally supposed, really in the practice of concocting any dishes out of the refuse of the table."

In The Taste of America, noted modern food historians John and Karen Hess called Directions for Cookery “one of the two best American cookbooks ever written," citing the book's precise directions, engaging tips, straightforward commentary, and diverse recipes—such as catfish soup and election cake—as the keys to its excellence.

Leslie is also credited with publishing America’s first printed recipe for chocolate cake, in her 1846 Lady’s Receipt Book. While chocolate had been used in baking in Europe as far back as the 1600s, Leslie’s recipe was probably obtained from a professional chef or pastry cook in Philadelphia. The recipe, which featured grated chocolate and a whole grated nutmeg, is quite different from most of today's chocolate cakes, with its strong overtones of spice and earthy, rather than sweet, flavors. (You can find the full recipe below.)

Later in life, while continuing to write cookbooks, Leslie edited The Gift: A Christmas and New Year’s Present, which included early publications by Edgar Allan Poe. She also edited her own magazine of literature and fashion, Miss Leslie’s Magazine. She wrote only one novel, 1848's Amelia; Or a Young Lady’s Vicissitudes, but once said that if she was to start her literary career over, she would have only written novels.

A Uniquely American Voice

Historians have argued that Leslie was successful because she crafted recipes to appeal to the young country’s desire for upward mobility as well as a uniquely American identity. At the time she began writing, women primarily used British cookbooks; Leslie appealed to them with a distinctly American work. (She noted in the preface to Seventy-Five Receipts, "There is frequently much difficulty in following directions in English and French Cookery Books, not only from their want of explicitness, but from the difference in the fuel, fire-places, and cooking utensils. ... The receipts in this little book are, in every sense of the word, American.")

Leslie included regional American dishes in her books, promoted the use of quality ingredients, and was the first to (sometimes) organize recipes by including ingredients at the beginning of each recipe instead of using a narrative form, setting the tone for modern recipe writing. Her books were considered a treasure trove of knowledge for young pioneer women who, frequently separated from their families for the first time, often relied on Leslie's works for guidance.

Unmarried herself, Leslie never managed her own kitchen, and often had others testing recipes for her. She maintained strong ties with her erudite, sophisticated family, and lived for a time with her brother Thomas while he was attending West Point. Another brother, Charles Leslie, was a well-regarded painter in England; her sister Anna was also an artist, and sister Patty was married to a publisher who produced some of Leslie’s work. As she got older, Leslie lived for years in the United States Hotel in Philadelphia, where she was something of a celebrity for her wit and strong opinions.

Leslie died on January 1, 1858. Many of her recipes are still used today, but it's likely she’d be most pleased to know that many of her short stories are available online. Modern readers can appreciate the totality of her work: the fiction writing that was her passion, though for which she was lesser known, and her culinary writing, which guided generations.

Eliza Leslie's Recipe for Chocolate Cake

From The Lady's Receipt Book:

CHOCOLATE CAKE.—Scrape down three ounces of the best and purest chocolate, or prepared cocoa. Cut up, into a deep pan, three-quarters of a pound of fresh butter; add to it a pound of powdered loaf-sugar; and stir the butter and sugar together till very light and white. Have ready 14 ounces (two ounces less than a pound) of sifted flour; a powdered nutmeg; and a tea-spoonful of powdered cinnamon—mixed together. Beat the whites of ten eggs till they stand alone; then the yolks till they are very thick and smooth. Then mix the yolks and whites gradually together, beating very hard when they are all mixed. Add the eggs, by degrees, to the beaten butter and sugar, in turn with the flour and the scraped chocolate,—a little at a time of each; also the spice. Stir the whole very hard. Put the mixture into a buttered tin pan with straight sides, and bake it at least four hours. If nothing is to be baked afterwards, let it remain in till the oven becomes cool. When cold, ice it.

11 Facts About Johann Sebastian Bach

Illustration by Mental Floss. Image: Rischgitz, Getty Images
Illustration by Mental Floss. Image: Rischgitz, Getty Images

Johann Sebastian Bach is everywhere. Weddings? Bach. Haunted houses? Bach. Church? Bach. Shredding electric guitar solos? Look, it’s Bach! The Baroque composer produced more than 1100 works, from liturgical organ pieces to secular cantatas for orchestra, and his ideas about musical form and harmony continue to influence generations of music-makers. Here are 11 things you might not know about the man behind the music.

1. There's some disagreement about when he was actually born.

Some people celebrate Bach’s birthday on March 21. Other people light the candles on March 31. The correct date depends on whom you ask. Bach was born in Thuringia in 1685, when the German state was still observing the Julian calendar. Today, we use the Gregorian calendar, which shifted the dates by 11 days. And while most biographies opt for the March 31 date, Bach scholar Christopher Wolff firmly roots for Team 21. “True, his life was actually 11 days longer because Protestant Germany adopted the Gregorian calendar in 1700,” he told Classical MPR, “but with the legal stipulation that all dates prior to Dec. 31, 1699, remain valid.”

2. He was at the center of a musical dynasty.

Bach’s great-grandfather was a piper. His grandfather was a court musician. His father was a violinist, organist, court trumpeter, and kettledrum player. At least two of his uncles were composers. He had five brothers—all named Johann—and the three who lived to adulthood became musicians. J.S. Bach also had 20 children, and, of those who lived past childhood, at least five became professional composers. According to the Nekrolog, an obituary written by Bach’s son Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, "[S]tarting with Veit Bach, the founding father of this family, all his descendants, down to the seventh generation, have dedicated themselves to the profession of music, with only a few exceptions."

3. He took a musical pilgrimage that puts every road trip to Woodstock to shame.

In 1705, 20-year-old Bach walked 280 miles—that's right, walked—from the city of Arnstadt to Lübeck in northern Germany to hear a concert by the influential organist and composer Dieterich Buxtehude. He stuck around for four months to study with the musician [PDF]. Bach hoped to succeed Buxtehude as the organist of Lübeck's St. Mary's Church, but marriage to one of Buxtehude's daughters was a prerequisite to taking over the job. Bach declined, and walked back home.

4. He brawled with his students.

One of Bach’s first jobs was as a church organist in Arnstadt. When he signed up for the role, nobody told him he also had to teach a student choir and orchestra, a responsibility Bach hated. Not one to mince words, Bach one day lost patience with a error-prone bassoonist, Johann Geyersbach, and called him a zippelfagottist—that is, a “nanny-goat bassoonist.” Those were fighting words. Days later, Geyersbach attacked Bach with a walking stick. Bach pulled a dagger. The rumble escalated into a full-blown scrum that required the two be pulled apart.

5. He spent 30 days in jail for quitting his job.

When Bach took a job in 1708 as a chamber musician in the court of the Duke of Saxe-Weimar, he once again assumed a slew of responsibilities that he never signed up for. This time, he took it in stride, believing his hard work would lead to his promotion to kapellmeister (music director). But after five years, the top job was handed to the former kapellmeister’s son. Furious, Bach resigned and joined a rival court. As retribution, the duke jailed him for four weeks. Bach spent his time in the slammer writing preludes for organ.

6. The Brandenburg Concertos were a failed job application.

Around 1721, Bach was the head of court music for Prince Leopold of Anhalt-Köthen. Unfortunately, the composer reportedly didn’t get along with the prince’s new wife, and he started looking for a new gig. (Notice a pattern?) Bach polished some manuscripts that had been sitting around and mailed them to a potential employer, Christian Ludwig, the Margrave of Brandenburg. That package, which included the Brandenburg Concertos—now considered some of the most important orchestral compositions of the Baroque era—failed to get Bach the job [PDF].

7. He wrote an amazing coffee jingle.

Bach apparently loved coffee enough to write a song about it: "Schweigt stille, plaudert nicht" ("Be still, stop chattering"). Performed in 1735 at Zimmerman’s coffee house in Leipzig, the song is about a coffee-obsessed woman whose father wants her to stop drinking the caffeinated stuff. She rebels and sings this stanza:

Ah! How sweet coffee tastes
More delicious than a thousand kisses
Milder than muscatel wine.
Coffee, I have to have coffee,
And, if someone wants to pamper me,
Ah, then bring me coffee as a gift!

8. If Bach challenged you to a keyboard duel, you were guaranteed to be embarrassed.

In 1717, Louis Marchand, a harpsichordist from France, was invited to play for Augustus, Elector of Saxony, and performed so well that he was offered a position playing for the court. This annoyed the court’s concertmaster, who found Marchand arrogant and insufferable. To scare the French harpsichordist away, the concertmaster hatched a plan with his friend, J.S. Bach: a keyboard duel. Bach and Marchand would improvise over a number of different styles, and the winner would take home 500 talers. But when Marchand learned just how talented Bach was, he hightailed it out of town.

9. Some of his music may have been composed to help with insomnia.

Some people are ashamed to admit that classical music, especially the Baroque style, makes them sleepy. Be ashamed no more! According to Bach’s earliest biographer, the Goldberg Variations were composed to help Count Hermann Karl von Keyserling overcome insomnia. (This story, to be fair, is disputed.) Whatever the truth, it hasn’t stopped the Andersson Dance troupe from presenting a fantastic Goldberg-based tour of performances called “Ternary Patterns for Insomnia.” Sleep researchers have also suggested studying the tunes’ effects on sleeplessness [PDF].

10. A botched eye surgery blinded him.

When Bach was 65, he had eye surgery. The “couching” procedure, which was performed by a traveling surgeon named John Taylor, involved shoving the cataract deep into the eye with a blunt instrument. Post-op, Taylor gave the composer eye drops that contained pigeon blood, mercury, and pulverized sugar. It didn’t work. Bach went blind and died shortly after. Meanwhile, Taylor moved on to botch more musical surgeries. He would perform the same procedure on the composer George Frideric Handel, who also went blind.

11. Nobody is 100 percent confident that Bach is buried in his grave.

In 1894, the pastor of St. John’s Church in Leipzig wanted to move the composer’s body out of the church graveyard to a more dignified setting. There was one small problem: Bach had been buried in an unmarked grave, as was common for regular folks at the time. According to craniologist Wilhelm His, a dig crew tried its best to find the composer but instead found “heaps of bones, some in many layers lying on top of each other, some mixed in with the remains of coffins, others already smashed by the hacking of the diggers.” The team later claimed to find Bach’s box, but there’s doubt they found the right (de)composer. Today, Bach supposedly resides in Leipzig’s St. Thomas Church.

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