The Book of Curiosities

by John Platts

There was, a short time since, a farmer living at Ditch-heat in Somersetshire, born without arms,—William Kingston, of whom frequent mention has been made in the public papers. He surpasses, according to accounts which seem very well attested, all that have been yet spoken of.

The following account was given a few years since, in the papers, by a person who visited him. “In order to give the public a satisfactory account of William Kingston,” says the writer, “I went to Ditcheat and the next morning got him to breakfast with me at Mrs. Goodfellow’s, and had ocular proof of his dexterity. He highly entertained us at breakfast, by putting his half-naked feet upon the table as he sat, and carrying his tea and toast between his great and second toe to his mouth, with as much facility as if his foot had been a hand, and his toes fingers. I put half a sheet of paper upon the floor, with a pen and ink-horn. He threw off his shoes as he sat, took the ink-horn in the toes of his left foot, and held the pen in those of his right. He then wrote three lines as well as most ordinary writers, and as swiftly. He writes all his own bills and other accounts. He then shewed me how he shaves himself with the razor in his toes; and he can comb his own hair. He can dress and undress himself, except buttoning his clothes. He feeds himself, and can bring both his meat or his broth to his mouth, by holding the fork or spoon in his toes. He cleans his own shoes, lights the fire, and does almost any domestic business as well as any other man. He can make hen-coops. He is a farmer by occupation. He can milk his cows with his toes, and cuts his own hay, binds it up in bundles, and carries it about the field for his cattle. Last winter he had eight heifers constantly to fodder. The last summer he made all his hay-ricks. He can do all the business of the hay-field (except mowing) as fast and as well with his feet as others can with rakes and forks. He goes to the field, and catches his horse. He saddles and bridles him with his teeth and toes. If he has a sheep among his flock that ails any thing, he can separate it from the rest, and drive it into a corner when nobody else can: he then examines it, and applies a remedy to it. He is so strong in his teeth, that he can lift ten pecks of beans with them. He can throw a great sledge-hammer as far with his feet, as other men can with their hands. In a word, he can nearly do as much without as others can with their arms.

“He began the world with a hen and chickens. With the profit on these he procured a ewe. The sale of these procured a ragged colt (as he termed it) and a sheep, and he now occupies a small farm.”

“Necessity is the mother of invention.” This proverb was never more fully exemplified than in the cases above mentioned. Habit, early acquired and long practised, may render the toes almost as useful as the fingers: the lips are also endued with acute feeling and great flexibility, and may become powerful assistants where the hands are wanting. One lesson, at least, may be taught by this maimed tribe:—that few things are so difficult, that they cannot be acquired by perseverance and application.

While some persons are noted for their extraordinary and wonderful faculties, others are remarkable for defects in natural capacities. The reader will feel interested in the following Curious Account of Incapacity of distinguishing Colours.

Of this extraordinary defect in vision, we have the following instances in the Philosophical Transactions for 1777. One of the persons lived at Maryport in Cumberland. The account was communicated by Mr. Huddart to Dr. Priestley; and is as follows:—“His name was Harris; by trade a shoemaker. I had often heard from others that he could discern the form and magnitude of all objects very distinctly, but could not distinguish colours. This report had excited my curiosity; I conversed with him frequently on the subject. The account he gave was this: That he had reason to believe other persons saw something in objects which he could not see: that their language seemed to mark qualities with precision and confidence, which he could only guess at with hesitation, and frequently with error. His first suspicion of this arose when he was about four years old. Having by accident found in the street, a child’s stocking, he carried it to a neighbouring house to inquire for the owner: he observed the people called it a red stocking, though he did not understand why they gave it that denomination, as he himself thought it completely described by being called a stocking. This circumstance, however, remained in his memory, and together with subsequent observations, led him to the knowledge of this defect. He also observed, that when young, other children could discern cherries on a tree by some pretended difference of colour, though he could only distinguish them from the leaves, by the difference of their size and shape. He observed also, that by means of this difference of colour they could see the cherries at a greater distance than he could, though he could see other objects at as great a distance as they, that is, where the sight was not assisted by the colour. Large objects he could see as well as other persons; and even the smaller ones, if they were not enveloped in other things, as in the case of cherries among the leaves. I believe he could never do more than guess the name of any colour; yet he could distinguish white from black, or black from any light or bright colour. Dove or straw colour he called white, and different colours he frequently called by the same name; yet he could discern a difference between them when placed together. In general, colours of an equal degree of brightness, however they might otherwise differ, he confounded together. Yet a striped ribbon he could distinguish from a plain one; but he could not tell what the colours were with any tolerable exactness. Dark colours, in general, he often mistook for black; but never imagined white to be a dark colour, nor dark to be a white colour. He was an intelligent man, and very desirous of understanding the nature of light and colours, for which end he had attended a course of lectures in natural philosophy. He had two brothers in the same circumstances as to sight; and two others (brothers and sisters) who, as well as their parents, had nothing of this defect. One of the first mentioned brothers, who is now living, I met with at Dublin, and wished to try his capacity to distinguish the colours in a prism; but not having one by me, I asked him, whether he had ever seen a rainbow? he replied, he had often; and could distinguish the different colours; meaning only, that it was composed of different colours, for he could not tell what they were. I then procured, and shewed him a piece of ribbon: he immediately, and without any difficulty, pronounced it a striped, and not a plain, ribbon. He then attempted to name the different stripes: the several stripes of white he uniformly, and without hesitation, called white: the four black stripes he was deceived in; for three of them he thought brown, though they were exactly of the same shade with the other, which he properly called black. He spoke, however, with diffidence, as to all those stripes; and it must be owned, that the black was not very distinct: the light green he called yellow; but he was not very positive: he said, “I think this what you call yellow.” The middle stripe, which had a slight tinge of red, he called a sort of blue. But he was most of all deceived by the orange colour: of this he spoke very confidently, saying, “This is the colour of grass, this is green.” I also shewed him a great variety of ribbons, the colour of which he sometimes named rightly, and sometimes as differently as possible from the true colour. I asked him, whether he imagined it possible for all the various colours he saw to be mere difference of light and shade; and that all colours could be composed of these two mixtures only? With some hesitation he replied, No, he did imagine there was some other difference. It is proper to add, that the experiment of the striped ribbon was made in the day-time, and in a good light.”

Incredible as the above phenomena may appear, we can add the following fact in confirmation of them, from personal knowledge. There is a gentleman now living in Edinburgh, whose optical nerves have laboured under a defect perfectly similar, since his infancy; but whose powers of vision are in other respects so much superior to those of most other people, that he draws the most striking likenesses, being a limner by profession, and requires for this purpose only once to see the person whose portrait is intended to be drawn, scarcely desiring a single sitting, much less repeated visiting. And what is still more extraordinary, he can, from such a momentary glance, retain the idea of the features, and even the gait and manner of the person, for years afterwards, so exactly as to be able to finish either a miniature head, or full portrait, at that distant period, as well as if the person were present. His friends, incredulous of this phenomenon, have, by placing his colours out of the order in which he keeps them, sometimes made him give a gentleman a green beard, and paint a beautiful young lady with a pair of blue cheeks.

We now proceed to the consideration of a very remarkable acquirement of man, called Ventriloquism.

This is an art of speaking, by means of which the human voice and other sounds are rendered audible, as if they proceeded from several different places; though the utterer does not change his place, and in many instances does not appear to speak. It has been supposed to be a natural peculiarity; because few, if any persons, have learned it by being taught, and we have had no rules laid down for acquiring it. It seems to have been in consequence of this notion, that the name ‘Ventriloquism’ has been applied to it, from a supposition that the voice proceeds from the thorax or chest. It has seldom been practised but by persons of the lower classes of society; and as it does not seem to present any advantages beyond that of causing surprise and entertainment, and cannot be exhibited on an extended theatre, the probability is, that it will continue amongst them.