Humanity has always had an intimate relationship with food, and it’s no surprise that 10 eccentric eating habits of famous personalities have left a lasting imprint on culinary lore. Below we dive into the most out‑there dining rituals of ten powerful people who let their plates speak louder than their policies.

10 Eccentric Eating Patterns Unveiled

10 Zuckerberg Only Eats What He Kills

Mark Zuckerberg, the Facebook founder famed for setting yearly self‑improvement goals—like wearing a tie every day in 2009 or mastering Mandarin in 2010—stunned the tech world in 2011 when he declared, “the only meat I’m eating is from animals I’ve killed myself.” He posted on his private Facebook page that he had just dispatched a pig and a goat, prompting a flood of reactions from his followers.

In an email to Fortune, Zuckerberg explained the spark behind his new rule: “I started thinking about this last year when I had a pig roast at my house. A bunch of people told me that even though they loved eating pork, they really didn’t want to think about the fact that the pig used to be alive. That just seemed irresponsible to me. I don’t have an issue with anything people choose to eat, but I do think they should take responsibility and be thankful for what they eat rather than trying to ignore where it came from.”

To put his ambition into practice, Zuckerberg enlisted Silicon Valley chef Jesse Cool as a mentor. Cool introduced him to local farms and walked him through the logistics of slaughtering his first chicken, pig, and goat. “He cut the throat of the goat with a knife, which is the most kind way to do it,” Cool told Fortune. The very first animal Zuckerberg killed, however, was a lobster that he boiled alive—a moment he described as emotionally taxing but ultimately rewarding.

Reflecting on that inaugural seafood kill, Zuckerberg told Fortune that the experience felt “special” after months of abstaining from meat and seafood. He said the act of actually eating the lobster, after having not touched any animal protein for a while, gave him a profound sense of connection to the food on his plate.

9 Beethoven’s Soup

Ludwig van Beethoven is celebrated for his symphonies, yet few know how seriously he took his soup. The composer insisted that only a housekeeper or cook with a “pure heart” could prepare a “pure soup.” He would not tolerate any criticism, especially from his long‑suffering secretary Anton Schindler. If Beethoven deemed a soup subpar and Schindler disagreed, the maestro would fire off a curt note: “I do not value your judgment on the soup in the least, it is bad.”

Beethoven’s favorite concoction was a mushy bread soup, which he ate every Thursday while ten large eggs were whisked into the broth. He would hold each egg up to the light, examining its translucence before cracking it open with his bare hands. Any egg that failed his exacting standards earned the housekeeper a stern reprimand.

According to opera conductor Ignaz von Seyfried, the housekeeper lived in constant dread of Beethoven’s “cannonade.” Seyfried wrote that she kept herself ready to flee at a moment’s notice, fearing that the composer’s habit of pelting her with eggs would turn her back into a “lava‑like stream of yellow‑white, sticky intestines.” The vivid description underscores just how intense Beethoven’s culinary expectations could become.

Beethoven’s obsession with soup extended beyond flavor; it was a matter of control and perfection. The composer’s exacting standards in the kitchen mirrored his relentless pursuit of musical perfection, making his soup rituals a fascinating footnote in the life of one of history’s greatest composers.

8 Gerald Ford’s Strange Lunch

While most people associate President Gerald Ford with his clumsy charm, fewer recall his culinary quirks. An Air Force One staffer revealed in Inside the White House that Ford’s daily lunch consisted of cottage cheese drenched in A‑1 sauce and ketchup, accompanied by a garnish of spring onions, celery sticks, and radishes. The condiment mix was his preferred flavor boost, and he would often swish with mouthwash before landing to neutralize the raw onion bite.

Ford’s appetite for this odd combination extended beyond the Oval Office. The same staffer recounted that the president would sometimes indulge in martinis aboard Air Force One, leading to a memorable incident where, after overindulging, he emerged from his cabin in his underwear, shouting, “Where is the head?”—a humorous glimpse into his off‑duty demeanor.

Though the story of Ford’s cottage‑cheese‑ketchup habit is widely circulated, it is eclipsed by the more famous Nixon anecdote. Nonetheless, Ford’s dedication to this peculiar lunch, eaten while reading or working, showcases a leader who found comfort in a simple, if unconventional, culinary ritual.

In an era where presidential meals were often lavish affairs, Ford’s modest yet bizarre lunch menu stands out as a testament to his personal tastes, proving that even the most powerful figures can have oddly specific food preferences.

7 Nicolas Cage’s Diet Of Dignified Animals

Nicolas Cage, the Academy‑winning actor known for his wildly eclectic filmography, also cultivates an equally eccentric palate. In an interview with The Sun, Cage disclosed that he only consumes animals whose mating rituals he deems “dignified.” He explained, “I have a fascination with fish, birds, whales—sentient life—insects, reptiles. I actually choose the way I eat according to the way animals have sex. I think fish are very dignified with sex. So are birds. But pigs, not so much. So I don’t eat pig meat or things like that. I eat fish and fowl.”

This philosophical approach to food extends beyond personal preference. For his 1988 role in Vampire’s Kiss, Cage was required to eat a live cockroach. He recounted to The Telegraph that “every muscle in my body didn’t want to do it,” yet he persisted, stating, “but I did it anyway.” The scene remains one of cinema’s most infamous culinary challenges.

Cage’s diet, guided by the perceived elegance of animal courtship, has sparked both curiosity and amusement among fans and nutritionists alike. While his avoidance of pork aligns with many cultural taboos, his reasoning—rooted in the dignity of animal reproduction—adds a uniquely theatrical flair to his eating habits.

Whether on set or off, Cage’s culinary choices demonstrate a blend of artistic dedication and personal ethics, making his menu as dramatic as his performances.

6 Henry Ford’s Weeds

Henry Ford, the industrial titan who revolutionized automobile manufacturing, also harbored an unconventional relationship with food. In his early years, Ford was indifferent to meals, often merely moving food around his plate to give the illusion of eating. As his fortunes grew, he began to view his body as a finely tuned machine, insisting that his stomach function like a boiler that required the right fuel.

Embracing practicality over sensuality, Ford turned to wild weeds as a primary source of nutrition. He would gather “roadside greens” such as burdock, milkweed, and other edible flora, preparing them in simple stews or sandwiches. This practice, while baffling to many of his business associates, found an ally in his friend George Washington Carver, who shared a similar appreciation for plant‑based sustenance.

Ford’s dedication to this green diet paid off; despite a massive salary, he rarely fell ill and lived to the age of 83. Biographer Sidney Olson noted, “There is nothing quite like a dish of stewed burdock, followed by a sandwich of soybean bread filled with milkweeds, to set up a man for an afternoon’s work.” The simplicity of his meals underscored his belief that a lean, plant‑centric diet could power both mind and machinery.

While modern nutritionists might debate the adequacy of a weed‑heavy regimen, Ford’s commitment to foraging and his longevity suggest that his experimental diet was far from frivolous—it was a deliberate, health‑focused lifestyle choice that complemented his engineering genius.

5 Evo Morales’s Gay Chicken

In 2001, Bolivian President Evo Morales sparked an international uproar when he claimed that hormone‑injected chicken was a catalyst for homosexuality. Speaking at the World People’s Summit on Climate Change and the Rights of Mother Earth in Cochabamba, Morales warned, “When we talk about chicken, it’s pumped full of female hormones, and so when men eat this chicken, they stray from being men.” He also linked the consumption of such fowl to male baldness, further inflaming the debate.

Morales’s administration swiftly moved to clarify his remarks, insisting that he had spoken only about “genital abnormalities” rather than sexual orientation. The Foreign Relations Ministry released a statement: “[Morales] made no mention of sexuality. Rather, he said that eating chicken that has hormones changes our own bodies. This point of view has been confirmed by scientists, and even the European Union has prohibited the use of some hormones in food.”

Gay‑rights activists, however, remained skeptical. Cesar Cigliutti, president of the Argentina Homosexual Community, dismissed the notion as “absurd,” noting that if hormone‑laden chicken could alter sexual orientation, then the reverse should also be true—an argument that highlighted the scientific implausibility of Morales’s claims.

Beyond the chicken controversy, Morales frequently criticized Western fast‑food giants, accusing them of harming public health and suppressing indigenous crops like quinoa. His broader anti‑American food stance positioned him as a vocal defender of Bolivian culinary sovereignty, even as his statements about hormone chicken drew widespread ridicule.

Morales’s outspoken views on food illustrate how political leaders can intertwine nutrition, culture, and ideology, often stirring controversy that resonates far beyond the dinner table.

4 Howard Hughes’s Food Fetishes

Howard Hughes, the legendary aviator‑turned‑film mogul, suffered from severe obsessive‑compulsive disorder that seeped into every aspect of his daily life, especially his meals. Hughes dictated a series of bizarre food‑preparation protocols for his staff, such as wrapping spoon handles in tissue paper, sealing them in cellophane, and then wrapping them again—only touching the covered handles to avoid perceived germs.

His household staff also had to follow an intricate can‑opening ritual: the can was first held under warm running water, then its label stripped exactly five centimeters from the top using a brush and specialized soap bars. The can was subsequently soaked, scrubbed inside and out, and rinsed, all while the servant maintained constant contact with the vessel, never releasing their grip.

Hughes’s dietary preferences were equally regimented. He shunned leafy vegetables, favoring a uniform menu that changed only every few months. A typical plate featured a medium‑rare butterfly steak accompanied by exactly twelve peas of uniform size; any pea that deviated from the standard was promptly returned to the kitchen. Hughes ate almost every meal alone, even forgoing traditional holiday feasts with his wife.

Despite his rigid regimen, Hughes harbored a sweet tooth. In his later, reclusive years, he subsisted largely on chocolate bars and milk, surrounded by empty milk bottles that he reportedly used as makeshift toilets. His obsessive habits, coupled with his isolation, contributed to a rapid physical decline, and at his death, observers likened his condition to that of a “Japanese prisoner of war.”

3 Hitler’s Flatulent Vegetarianism

Adolf Hitler’s dietary choices have long been a subject of debate. While many cite him as a vegetarian, the reality is more nuanced. In the early 1930s, Hitler enjoyed meat‑heavy fare such as liver dumplings and sausages, subscribing to Wagner’s belief that “the thirst for flesh and blood… can never be slaked, and fills its victims with a raging madness, not with courage.”

His turn toward vegetarianism is often linked to the 1931 suicide of his niece Geli Raubal. After that tragedy, Hitler refused to eat breakfast ham, declaring, “It is like eating a corpse!” He also began to blame meat for chronic constipation and excessive flatulence, shifting his diet toward raw or pureed vegetables.

Hitler’s favorite dishes included oatmeal mixed with linseed oil, cauliflower, cottage cheese, boiled apples, artichoke hearts, and asparagus tips in white sauce. He believed that a high‑fiber regimen would improve his health, yet his personal physician, Dr. Theo Morell, recorded that a particularly large vegetable plate resulted in “constipation and colossal flatulence… on a scale I have seldom encountered before.”

The side effects were compounded by a bizarre cocktail of medications: chamomile enemas, vitamins, testosterone, liver extracts, laxatives, sedatives, glucose, opiates, and even strychnine tablets for gas. These treatments amplified his digestive woes, creating a paradox where his vegetarianism, intended for health, produced the very ailments he sought to avoid.

Ultimately, Hitler’s dietary experiment underscores that even infamous figures can fall prey to nutritional myths. While he occasionally consumed animal products—mirroring the habits of many modern vegetarians—his extreme focus on a vegetable‑centric diet did not absolve him from the moral debates surrounding meat consumption.

His case illustrates how personal health obsessions can intertwine with ideological convictions, leaving a legacy that is as controversial as his political actions.

2 Mussolini’s Milk Addiction

Benito Mussolini, the Italian dictator, endured a series of digestive ailments that drove him toward an extreme milk‑centric diet. In 1925, after vomiting blood at his Rome residence, he was forced to pause his public duties. Doctors diagnosed a stomach ulcer and urged a drastic dietary overhaul, as Mussolini refused surgical intervention.

His new regimen revolved around copious amounts of milk—up to three liters per day—paired with fruit. Unfortunately, the milk binge failed to alleviate his ulcer, which resurfaced in 1929, prompting further medical scrutiny.

When Allied forces invaded Italy and Mussolini retreated to the German‑controlled Salo Republic, he sought help from Dr. Zachariae. The physician, shocked by Mussolini’s emaciated state, described him as “a ruin of a man… on the brink of the tomb.” Dr. Zachariae attributed Mussolini’s decline to the excessive milk intake, reducing it to a quarter of a liter per day, then eliminating it entirely.

Alongside the milk reduction, the doctor introduced light vegetables such as carrots and potatoes, and encouraged tea consumption without milk. Though Mussolini preferred a vegetarian outlook, Zachariae insisted on modest portions of boiled chicken and fish to boost protein. Supplementation with vitamins B and C further improved Mussolini’s blood count and overall vitality.

Despite occasional refusals to eat publicly during Italy’s famine, Dr. Zachariae later boasted that his interventions restored Mussolini to the health of a man in his forties, highlighting the transformative power of a balanced diet over obsessive consumption.

1 Kim Jong Il’s Gastronomy

Kenji Fujimoto, Kim Jong Il’s former personal chef, revealed a stark contrast between the North Korean populace’s starvation and the dictator’s extravagant culinary pursuits. Kim maintained a wine cellar boasting over 10,000 bottles and a library filled with thousands of cookbooks, reflecting his obsession with gourmet excellence.

The leader dispatched Fujimoto on international missions to procure rare delicacies: caviar from Iran and Uzbekistan, cognac from France, pork from Denmark, grapes from western China, papayas and mangoes from Thailand, and even McDonald’s fast‑food from Beijing. Diplomatic envoys also smuggled exotic treats like camel’s feet, ensuring Kim’s palate remained perpetually satiated.

Kim’s regime even established a dedicated institute of top doctors and scientists tasked with engineering a longevity‑boosting diet. Concern grew as the 158‑centimeter (5 ft 2 in) tyrant’s weight ballooned to nearly 90 kg (200 lb). Physicians meticulously inspected each grain of rice, insisting on flawless shape and size, and mandated that the rice be cooked over a wood fire using timber from the sacred Mount Paektu.

Fujimoto also disclosed Kim’s love for sushi. To secure a personal taste of sea urchin roe (uni), Fujimoto showed Kim an episode of “Iron Chef” featuring uni as the secret ingredient. Intrigued, Kim ordered the chef to acquire the delicacy from Rishiri Island off Hokkaido. Fujimoto escaped his handlers at a Tokyo fish market, disappearing into the crowd, and did not return to North Korea until after Kim’s death.

In a surprising footnote, David Tormsen—who reportedly subsists on shoe leather and chives—offered his contact details, underscoring the bizarre network of culinary eccentricities surrounding the late leader.

When you think of the everyday objects that surround us, you probably assume they have simple, harmless histories. Yet the truth is far more fascinating: these 10 innocuous things were born from the eccentric, sometimes downright disturbing lives of mad men and women. Buckle up for a wild ride through stagecoach accidents, secret cults, and murderous geniuses.

10 A Stagecoach Accident Created Movies And A Murder

In 1860, Eadweard Muybridge found himself aboard a stagecoach that careened off the road in Texas. The crash hurled him and his fellow travelers into the air, and a severe head injury left Muybridge with double vision, sensory problems, and muddled thoughts. His physician, eager to aid his recovery, suggested a new pastime—photography. Muybridge embraced the medium, quickly gaining fame for daring and often deadly photographic stunts.

His health, however, continued to decline. By 1874 he discovered that his wife, Flora Stone, was involved with a mutual acquaintance. Fueled by jealousy and the lingering effects of his trauma, Muybridge shot the lover point‑blank, killing him on the spot. Unsure whether the child his wife bore was his own, he placed the baby for adoption. Eyewitnesses later claimed the crash had driven Muybridge to eccentricity. He pleaded insanity for the murder but was acquitted on the grounds that the killing was justified.

Muybridge’s exoneration pleased Leland Stanford, who had funded his defense. Stanford, a prominent horse gambler, wanted proof that a horse in full gallop could lift all four feet off the ground. Using a series of cameras along a track, Muybridge captured the horse’s motion frame by frame. When the images were strung together, they revealed the fleeting moment when all four hooves were airborne—an insight that sparked the birth of motion pictures.

9 Slinky’s Inventor Abandoned His Wealth And Family To Join A Bolivian Cult

The Slinky’s story begins with a happy accident: Richard James watched a spring tumble down a flight of stairs and saw the endless, mesmerizing motion. Two years later, in 1945, he introduced the Slinky as a Christmas sensation, and it quickly became a staple of American childhood for more than seven decades.

Behind the toy’s cheerful exterior lay a scandalous private life. Flush with the Slinky’s profits, James embarked on a series of extramarital affairs. Overcome with remorse, he sought spiritual redemption, funneling his money into various Episcopalian groups. His quest for faith grew increasingly extreme, eventually leading him to a stringent religious cult in Bolivia.

In 1960, James abandoned his six children—ranging from toddlers to teenagers—leaving them in the care of his wife, Betty. While Betty kept the company afloat, James disappeared into the Bolivian cult, sending only letters urging his children to repent and join him. He never saw his offspring again, and his absence forced Betty to rescue the Slinky from bankruptcy, ensuring its continued place in the toy box of generations to come.

8 The Mathematician‑Turned‑Magician Behind The Decimal Point

John Napier was a paradoxical figure: a logical mind wrapped in superstition. He pioneered the logarithm and introduced the decimal point, yet his religious fervor drove him to anticipate an imminent Apocalypse. Interpreting the Book of Revelation, Napier calculated that the end of the world would arrive around 1688 or 1700, granting himself a small window for the final judgment.

His apocalyptic outlook earned him a reputation as a sorcerer. Believing the world would soon end, he experimented with a proto‑death ray that harnessed sunlight to scorch ships. Napier’s eccentricities extended to his attire—he roamed in a black gown adorned with skulls, accompanied by a black rooster and a spider that seemed to crawl across his shoulder. Rumors swirled that his rooster could read minds and that he could command pigeons, further cementing his mystic image.

A daring episode emerged when treasure hunter Robert Logan hired Napier to locate the lost treasure of Fast Castle, convinced that Napier’s “sorcery” could pinpoint the hoard. The venture never materialized, sparing Napier from potential danger and preserving his mathematical legacy, which might otherwise have been lost to piracy.

7 The Toy Made By A Nazi Used To Fight Nazis

William Gruber, a man obsessed with mushrooms, dreamed of a device that would educate the world through vivid, three‑dimensional images. After moving from post‑World‑I Germany to Oregon in 1924, Gruber’s Nazi sympathies persisted, and he remained an outspoken advocate of the party.

While photographing Oregon’s scenery, Gruber met Harold Graves, a newly‑wed tourist. Fascinated by Gruber’s technique of taking simultaneous photos with two cameras to create stereoscopic images, Graves urged him to develop a machine to view these pictures up close. Their partnership birthed the View‑Master, which debuted at the 1939 New York World’s Fair.

Despite the outbreak of World War II, Gruber’s allegiance to Nazism did not waver. The FBI, wary of his connections to a German lens manufacturer, froze his assets and exiled him to Idaho. Ironically, the U.S. government purchased over 10,000 View‑Masters for military personnel, who used the reels as rapid‑learning tools for equipment and terrain. Gruber’s final contribution was a macabre “Stereoscopic Atlas of the Human Anatomy,” filled with cadaveric images, yet the View‑Master ultimately became a beloved childhood icon rather than the educational instrument Gruber envisioned.

6 Milton Cooper Wrote Of Aliens And The Language Of Hip‑Hop

Milton William Cooper served as a foot soldier in Vietnam, where he witnessed governmental deception firsthand. He later claimed to have encountered extraterrestrials, positioning himself as a whistle‑blower. Whether viewed as a truth‑seeker or a plagiarist, Cooper’s impact on conspiracy culture is undeniable.

In 1991 his book Behold a Pale Horse hit the shelves, weaving together classic conspiracies with fresh paranoia. Topics ranged from the government fabricating the AIDS virus to the assertion that President Kennedy was assassinated to prevent him from revealing alien existence. The book’s influence seeped into the 1990s hip‑hop scene; rappers such as the Wu‑Tang Clan, Tupac, Nas, and Jay‑Z referenced its themes, dubbing it simply “The Book.”

Cooper’s life spiraled into legal trouble: a 1998 tax‑evasion charge, followed by a 2000 assault accusation. Declared a “major fugitive,” he barricaded himself against U.S. Marshals on November 5, 2001. Refusing surrender, he shot an officer in the head before being fatally shot himself in the chest.

5 The Sex Doll By A Sex Addict Became A Childhood Staple

Barbie, one of the most iconic toys, has always sparked debate over its exaggerated proportions. The doll’s origins trace back to Ruth Handler’s vacation in Switzerland, where she discovered the German Bild‑Lilli doll—a miniature representation of a call‑girl from a comic strip.

Handler introduced the Lilli doll to her business partner, Jack Ryan, an eccentric former rocket designer. Ryan applied his engineering expertise to give the dolls movable joints and articulated fingers. Unable to afford a standard engineering fee, Handler granted Ryan a royalty on each doll sold. With Barbie’s soaring success, Ryan amassed a fortune, which he squandered on extravagant purchases—including a personal fire engine and a moated castle featuring a sex dungeon draped in black fox fur.

Ryan’s lifestyle spiraled further: he became known as a “sex addict,” indulging in heavy alcohol and cocaine use. His erratic behavior led Mattel to dismiss him, and his addiction contributed to a stroke that left him disabled. Ultimately, Ryan took his own life at age 64, while Barbie continued to dominate children’s playrooms worldwide.

4 The Cult In The Kitchen

John Humphrey Noyes, whose lineage included a U.S. Representative father and President Rutherford B. Hayes as a cousin, founded a religious community that would become infamous for its sexual practices. In 1831, Noyes experienced a conversion, interpreting a prophecy that the millennium would arrive within a generation of Jesus’ crucifixion. He calculated that the Earth was redeemed in AD 70, and centuries later, he declared himself free from sin.

His teachings attracted a following of about 250 believers, who formed a commune dedicated to recreating Heaven on Earth. Embracing Jesus’ call to renounce possessions, the group shared all property, including romantic partners—men were married to all women and vice‑versa, with communal sex encouraged. Vermont authorities, uncomfortable with such openness, expelled the group in 1847, prompting them to relocate to Oneida, New York, in 1848.

Rebranded as the Oneida Perfectionists, the community sought financial stability through various enterprises: farming, sawmilling, and most successfully, producing steel beaver traps for the Hudson’s Bay Company. When the fur trade collapsed, they shifted to blacksmithing, ultimately creating a line of silverware. Though the cult dissolved in 1881, Oneida Silverware survived and remains a fixture in china cabinets worldwide.

3 Frederick Hoelzel Crapped Out A Masterpiece

Cellulose flour, a cheap filler used in diet yogurts, fast‑food burgers, and many processed foods, adds bulk without calories or nutrients. While dietitians now critique its lack of nutritional value, its discovery owes thanks to nutritionist Frederick Hoellzel, who pursued an unusual line of research in the 1920s.

Hoellzel became a minor celebrity in Chicago for his extraordinary stomach capacity. He voluntarily swallowed inedible objects—gravel, glass, feathers, ball bearings, even gold pellets—and meticulously recorded the time each item took to exit his system. Though the experiments were painful and of limited practical use, they demonstrated his willingness to endure discomfort for scientific curiosity.

Eventually, Hoellzel turned his attention to cotton gauze, discovering that he could actually enjoy its taste. This fascination with cellulose led him to investigate its broader applications, culminating in the development of cellulose flour as a low‑cost food additive.

2 Eric Gill’s Fonts Are Good; Everything Else About Him Is Not

Gill Sans, the clean, timeless typeface you might see on the BBC, in movies, or on your favorite paperback, owes its creation to the talented sculptor and typographer Eric Gill. Throughout the 1920s and 1930s, Gill earned acclaim as one of the era’s leading artists, his work appearing in countless publications and designs.

However, Gill’s personal life was a stark contrast to his artistic achievements. His diaries reveal a series of sexual transgressions rooted in his devout Catholicism and profound shame. He engaged in incestuous relationships with his two sisters, continuing until one sister’s death. Some accounts suggest that both sisters may have been involved. Gill also reportedly raped two of his three daughters, describing the acts in graphic detail within his journals.

Beyond incest and rape, Gill’s depravity extended to bestiality; he allegedly derived sexual pleasure from his dogs, even documenting such acts. Given the magnitude of his crimes—incest, pedophilia, and bestiality—some argue that iconic works like Toy Story should reconsider using his fonts, separating the art from the artist.

1 W.C. Minor’s Life Cannot Be Defined

W.C. Minor’s legacy is a tangled web of brilliance, madness, and murder. A Yale graduate turned Union surgeon during the Civil War, Minor seemed destined for greatness until the Battle of the Wilderness left an indelible mark on his psyche. The forest fire that consumed the battlefield forced Minor to brand a deserter with a scalding hot “D,” an act that haunted him thereafter.

Plagued by visions of the Irish Fenian Brotherhood, Minor’s mental state deteriorated, manifesting first in an obsessive sexual appetite. He frequented local brothels, and later, his urges escalated to a disturbing desire for young boys, leading him to amputate his own penis with the very knife he used to cut out definitions in ancient manuscripts.

Minor’s descent continued when he attempted to murder imagined specters, inadvertently killing a businessman named George Merrett. Charged with murder, Minor was found not guilty by reason of insanity and confined to Broadmoor asylum. There, he formed a bond with Merrett’s widow, Eliza, exchanging books weekly. Hidden within one of those volumes was a pamphlet announcing the Oxford English Dictionary’s call for volunteers.

Motivated by this opportunity, Minor contributed thousands of quotations, enriching the dictionary’s etymological depth. The preface of the fifth OED volume even thanked him for his “enormous” contributions, noting that his quotations could illustrate the past four centuries. Thus, despite a life marked by violence and insanity, Minor’s impact on the English language endures.

8 exceedingly eccentric personalities have left their indelible mark on England’s storied reputation for oddball behaviour. From black‑pudding breakfasts to courtroom wigs that hide more than just hair, the nation has cultivated a tradition of delightful absurdity. Below we meet the most memorable characters who embody that quirky spirit.

Why 8 Exceedingly Eccentric Figures Matter

These ten individuals—eight men and two women—show us how far imagination can stretch when wealth, intellect, or sheer willpower is involved. Their stories range from bizarre art policies to ill‑fated hunts, and each one adds a colourful thread to the tapestry of British eccentricity.

10 John Ruskin—The Coy Wonder

All great tales of English quirks should kick off the way John Ruskin’s does—by noting that the famed art critic wed his own cousin in 1848, a fact that explains a great deal about the oddities that follow.

Ruskin’s brilliance as a writer and critic never translated into charm with women. He was openly repulsed by the female sex, and his marriage to Effie Gray remained unconsummated because he flat‑out refused. His disdain for women was so intense that when he founded the Ruskin School of Art in 1871, he barred students from ever sketching, painting, or sculpting nude female forms—yes, even in an art school.

9 William Beckford—Lord of ‘(fall)Downton Abbey’

This fellow was essentially a real‑life Ritchie Rich, inheriting a staggering £1 million in 1770 at the tender age of ten—adjusted for modern inflation that equates to a gazillion‑and‑a‑half US dollars and a few cents—plus several Jamaican sugar plantations and 1,600 enslaved Africans. With such wealth, Beckford quickly grew accustomed to the finest luxuries, becoming an avid art collector, a literary mind, and a collector of young male companions.

His true passion lay in gothic architecture, prompting him to commission the flamboyant Fonthill Abbey as a personal sanctuary for his relationship with his 11‑year‑old cousin, William Courtenay. Over six years, he employed 500 local labourers, kept them well‑supplied with beer, and oversaw the construction of a 300‑ft spire that famously snapped in half, only to be rebuilt seven years later. Beckford ultimately resided there with his sole attendant, a Spanish dwarf.

8 Mary Amelia ‘Emily Mary’ Cecil, Marchioness of Salisbury—Mistress of the Hunt Who Was Gone in a Flash

When people reach roughly their seventies, a curious transformation often occurs: the fashionable begin swapping haute couture for cozy sweaters, deck shoes, and thick spectacles. Imagine a 90‑year‑old punk rocker. The first Marchioness of Salisbury, however, refused to surrender to such gentle‑toned retirement.

She was a devoted sportswoman, passionately participating in fox‑hunting—a pastime shared by many aristocratic lords and ladies. Even into her seventies, she persisted, though failing eyesight and poor balance forced her to be tethered to her horse while leading the chase. Her most infamous trait was her unwavering devotion to the elaborate wigs that had once been the height of fashion. Tragically, this devotion led to her demise: while seated at her writing desk in the west wing of her manor, her massive wig caught fire from a candelabrum, igniting the house and ending her life. Only charred bones and a set of dentures were recovered from the eccentric octogenarian.

7 Henry Cavendish—Make It Rain‑Man

“The richest of all the savants and the most knowledgeable of all the rich,” French scientist Jean‑Baptiste Biot once described the Honourable Henry Cavendish, a man celebrated as one of the most influential experimental chemists of the eighteenth century.

His achievements are staggering: he devised numerous astronomical instruments, uncovered the chemical composition of both air and water, calculated electrical resistance decades before Georg Ohm, and anticipated the gravitational bending of light a century before Einstein. Perhaps most astonishingly, he computed Earth’s mass with such precision that modern measurements have only required minute adjustments. Cavendish was also notoriously reclusive and oblivious to monetary value; when a household staff member fell ill and colleagues organized a collection, he absent‑mindedly pledged £10,000—a sum that would be astronomical today.

6 Gerald Hugh Tyrwhitt‑Wilson, Lord Berners—Typifier of the Bizarre

Consider this logic: a cute spaniel thrown into water instinctively swims; therefore, tossing the same spaniel out of a window should produce a comparable result. That, allegedly, is exactly what the young Lord Berners attempted at his family estate—though the outcome remains undocumented.

Lord Berners grew up as a peculiar child and remained just as eccentric in adulthood. He tailored his meals to match his mood’s colour—imagine a green‑themed menu of asparagus soup, mixed leaves, peas, and a kiwi fool. In 1935, he erected a folly tower on his Oxfordshire estate, despite local planners’ objections; the tower bore a warning sign stating, “Members of the public committing suicide from this tower do so at their own risk.”

Berners delighted in practical jokes, often dressing in outlandish attire and leaning out train windows to invite strangers to sit with him—few obliged. Those who did quickly fled after discovering his habit of checking his temperature every few minutes with a rectal thermometer. His epitaph reads, “Here lies Lord Berners / One of the learners / His great love of learning / May earn him a burning / But, Praise the Lord! / He seldom was bored.”

5 David James, MP for Brighton Kemptown—In Search of Nessie…and His Seat in Parliament

I truly wish the Loch Ness Monster were real—alongside UFOs, Bigfoot, and guardian angels (the benevolent kind, not the vigilante New York types). One fellow who shared this longing was David James, the MP for Brighton Kemptown. Unlike me, James actually believed in Nessie and set out on a three‑week expedition to locate the cryptid.

In the 1964 general election, James lost his seat to a Labour challenger—the first time his constituency had flipped. While most politicians would knock on doors, attend debates, and kiss babies to secure votes, James pursued a far more eccentric agenda: a quest for Scotland’s most elusive aquatic dinosaur. Unsurprisingly, his plan yielded no sightings, but it remains a testament to his uniquely odd priorities.

4 Admiral Algernon Charles Fieschi Henage—Cleanliness Is Next to Godliness, Sloppiness Gets You Punished

Admiral Henage earned reverence and a knighthood in the Order of the Bath after retiring from what many consider the world’s most powerful navy. While one might assume daily gun drills or flawless supply lines underpinned Britain’s maritime dominance, Henage believed the real weapon was immaculate ship hygiene.

He would patrol his vessels wearing pristine white kid gloves, accompanied by a coxswain who carried a fresh mound of gloves on a silver platter. He would glide his finger across every surface, hunting for any speck of grime. In Henage’s view, a single fleck of dirt could spell an officer’s downfall, and his obsessive cleanliness helped keep Britannia’s fleet unrivaled.

3 Lady Diana Cooper—Beyond Leisure

One could write an entire tome about Lady Diana Cooper, the glamorous socialite, muse to Evelyn Waugh, and often hailed as “the most beautiful girl in the world.” Yet we’ll focus on two particularly eccentric episodes that highlight her singular flair.

During World War II, Cooper conceived a bold scheme to shield London from nightly bombings: she suggested installing gigantic magnets throughout the city’s parks to deflect enemy aircraft. The War Office, however, never adopted her inventive plan. Another memorable moment occurred at a centennial celebration for Sir Robert Mayer. While mingling with the elite, Cooper chatted away with a splendidly dressed lady, only to realize she was actually the Queen. She promptly curtsied and apologised, “I’m terribly sorry, ma’am. I didn’t recognise you without your crown on.”

2 Justice Sir Melford Stevenson—A Terrifying Wit

We’ve already encountered a parade of quirky personalities, but imagine one whose courtroom presence could send shivers down a defendant’s spine. That was Justice Sir Melford Stevenson, notorious for his razor‑sharp, often inflammatory remarks.

He branded bookmakers a “bunch of crooks,” denounced Birmingham as a “municipal Gomorrah,” and, during a divorce hearing, called a man’s decision to reside in Manchester “wholly incomprehensible.” In 1945, Stevenson ran for Parliament, promising a spotless campaign free of any mention of his opponent Tom Driberg’s alleged homosexuality. Ironically, he now holds the dubious record for the most appellate overturns in a single day—three—remarking that many of his colleagues were “just constipated Methodists.”

1 Kenneth Cecil Gandar‑Dower—Not Quite the Sport of Kings

England boasts a proud lineage of multi‑sport athletes, both male and female, and none exemplify this more than Kenneth Cecil Gandar‑Dower. He excelled at cricket, mastered both Eton and Rugby variants of “fives,” and shone in tennis, squash, and billiards—a true all‑rounder.

Beyond sport, Gandar‑Dower was a globe‑trotting adventurer, pioneering aviator, and discoverer of uncharted territories for the Empire. Yet his most infamous venture was the invention of a ludicrous spectator sport: he attempted to pit cheetahs against greyhounds in a race, believing the swift felines could outpace the hounds. Unsurprisingly, the plan flopped—cheetahs are not trained racers and simply roamed West London, frightening locals who imagined hungry cheetahs hunting in the streets. Though the scheme faded, it remains a testament to his boundless, if misguided, imagination.

When it comes to the United States’ highest military decoration, there are ten eccentric ways to secure a Medal of Honor that go far beyond the usual battlefield heroics. From polite letters to secret awards, the stories are as surprising as they are fascinating.

10 eccentric ways Explained

10 Writing In To Ask For One

Normally, an American soldier has to be recommended for the medal by either a member of Congress or a superior officer in his or her unit. You can’t self‑nominate. This safeguard ensures the Medal of Honor is awarded for brave conduct that others can verify, protecting its integrity from self‑serving claims. Yet back in the 1800s, the rules were far more flexible—so flexible that the government might as well have placed an ad saying medals were available upon request, “while supplies last.”

Asa Bird Gardiner, a Civil War veteran from New York who served as a company officer in a state militia, saw some action and earned minor wounds. Though his service was respectable, it wasn’t spectacular. Nonetheless, having heard rumors about the Medal of Honor, he penned a courteously worded letter to the War Department asking, “I understand there are a number of bronze medals for distribution to soldiers of the late War, and request I be allowed one as a souvenir of memorable times past.” His politeness proved persuasive, and the department mailed him a medal!

Since then, the criteria have tightened, and Gardiner’s medal was rescinded during a 1916 audit. Today the process is far more formal, and the medal is generally not seen as a mere memorabilia item. Still, there’s no harm in asking.

9 Fighting A Secret Battle Against An American Ally

Because the Medal of Honor is intended for valor in combat, most assume it will be earned against America’s enemies. Commander William McGonagle, however, received it for an accidental clash with the forces of an American ally, Israel.

During the Six‑Day War of 1967, McGonagle commanded the USS Liberty on an intelligence‑gathering mission. A tragic misidentification led Israeli jets and torpedo boats to mistake the ship for an Egyptian warship. What followed was a massive friendly‑fire episode: for nearly an hour, the Liberty endured relentless attacks. McGonagle was badly wounded, his bridge shredded, yet he refused to abandon his post. He struggled to open communications with the Israelis while directing damage control. After 17 harrowing hours, he finally relinquished command, leaving the vessel heavily scarred but still afloat, with 34 crew members dead.

The Israelis later apologized, and the United States acknowledged the grave mistake. To honor McGonagle’s bravery without highlighting the embarrassing incident, the Medal of Honor was presented in secret at the Washington Navy Yard, and his citation conspicuously omits any mention of the attacking forces. It remains the only Medal of Honor awarded deliberately in secrecy.

8 Participating In A Native American Massacre

US Army troops fought many battles against Native Americans, some of which could be termed fair fights. The infamous Battle of Wounded Knee, however, was a massacre. The US 7th Cavalry—Custer’s old regiment—unleashed fire on a group of Lakota Sioux they were escorting.

The Lakota were being moved back to Pine Ridge Reservation in South Dakota. Troops were ordered to disarm them by force if needed, backed by four cannons. A minor scuffle over a rifle ignited a deadly exchange. Both sides opened fire; the Sioux, though attempting to rearm, were vastly outgunned. Casualties were stark: 64 US soldiers killed or wounded (some by friendly fire) versus 150‑300 Lakota dead, many of whom were women and children.

Twenty Medals of Honor were awarded to the 490 US Army participants—a rate of four percent, matching the total awarded for the entire 17‑year US involvement in Iraq and Afghanistan. While some argue the soldiers displayed genuine bravery, others contend that the high award rate grants an undeserved honor to a tragic event. Congress has left the medals in place but approved a national memorial at Wounded Knee, which remains unbuilt.

7 Getting Killed Anonymously In An Ally’s Uniform

A Medal of Honor typically celebrates a specific individual’s heroism, yet it can also symbolize the collective bravery of unknown soldiers. In earlier wars, many fallen soldiers were buried without identification. World War I’s massive, chaotic battles produced countless anonymous corpses.

To honor anonymous sacrifice, several allied nations erected tombs for their Unknown Soldiers, as did the United States. In a special exception, the United States symbolically awarded the Medal of Honor to five allied Unknowns—from the United Kingdom, France, Belgium, Romania, and Italy. Each nation agreed to overlook the usual requirement that recipients be US military personnel, allowing the medals to stand for the bravery of all unidentified allied war dead.

These five medals, if counted individually, would dramatically increase the total number of Medal of Honor recipients. Nonetheless, they serve as a reminder that heroism can occur even when no one records it, and that the authorities sometimes must recognize valor beyond documented individuals.

6 Guarding Abraham Lincoln’s Casket

The Medal of Honor was created during the Civil War, and its early standards were vague. With few official recognitions available, any meritorious service could be considered for the award, resulting in many decorations that would not meet today’s criteria.

In 1865, after President Abraham Lincoln’s assassination, the nation mourned. His body lay in state in Washington, then traveled via a funeral train through twelve cities before burial in Springfield, Illinois. Throughout the three‑week ceremony, soldiers acted as an honor guard for the casket. These veterans, many seasoned from hard‑fought battles, served without seeking accolades.

Nevertheless, after the burial, twenty‑nine members of the guard received the Medal of Honor—more than the number awarded for the Wounded Knee affair. While guarding the president’s remains was certainly honorable, it fell short of the combat valor traditionally required. Consequently, a 1916 review board rescinded all twenty‑nine medals, highlighting the need for a hierarchy of honors to preserve the prestige of the nation’s highest award.

5 Being An Extremely Plucky 11‑Year‑Old

The Lincoln funeral guard story isn’t the only Medal of Honor link to the president. In the era before radios, battlefield communication relied on drums and bugles, roles often filled by boys under eighteen. Thousands of youths served in the Union Army during the 19th century.

During the Seven Days Battles, Union forces faced a fierce Confederate counter‑offensive, prompting a week‑long retreat. Morale faltered, and many soldiers abandoned equipment to flee. Yet 11‑year‑old drummer Willie Johnston of Vermont stayed resolute. He understood his drum’s critical role in relaying orders. While his regiment endured chaotic marches, night‑time redeployments, and the brutal Battle of Savage’s Station, Johnston never abandoned his post, remaining the sole drummer in his division.After the Union forces regrouped, a July 4th morale review selected Willie to perform for the entire division, recognizing his steadfastness. General reports highlighted his name, and President Lincoln, perhaps moved by his own late son Willie, suggested the young drummer receive a Medal of Honor. The following year, Willie was awarded the medal, becoming one of the first recipients and, to date, the youngest ever honored.

4 Getting Twice The Credit For A Single Act Of Bravery

Most shoppers know “buy one, get one free” deals, but five World War I Marines earned two Medals of Honor for a single day’s heroism. At the Battle of Château‑Thierry, Ernest Janson repelled a German counter‑attack using only his bayonet. Later, at the Battle of Soissons, immigrant Marines—Louis Cukela (Croatian), Matej Kocak (Slovakian), John J. Kelly, and John P. Pruitt—each performed extraordinary feats, from destroying machine‑gun nests to capturing enemy soldiers.

The reason they received duplicate honors lies in the Marine Corps’ unique position. While administratively part of the Navy, Marines often fought on land under Army command. During World I, Marine battalions were assigned to the Army, and both services maintained their own versions of the Medal of Honor. Each branch wanted to claim credit for the bravery, so both issued separate medals with distinct citations for the same actions.

Since 1919, regulations prohibit awarding multiple Medals of Honor for a single act, but the double awards for these five men remain on record, resulting in ten medals for five individuals—a rare historical quirk.

3 Making It A Lifetime Achievement Award

The Lincoln guard example shows that commendable service doesn’t always meet the Medal of Honor’s combat‑valor standard. Consequently, the armed forces now offer a range of awards—achievement, commendation, meritorious service—to recognize various forms of dedication. Some view these as participation awards; others see them as essential distinctions preserving the prestige of the highest honor.

Two individuals received the Medal of Honor for lifetime achievements. Frederick Gerber, an Army combat engineer, served in both the Mexican‑American War and the Civil War, training countless engineers. The Army even created the Sergeant Major of Engineers position especially for him. Upon retirement after 32 years of distinguished service, Gerber received the Medal of Honor for “distinguished gallantry in many actions and in recognition of long, faithful, and meritorious services.”

General Adolphus Greely, after solid Civil War service, spent two decades as a lieutenant before leading the ill‑fated Lady Franklin Bay Expedition, where 19 of 25 men perished. Later promoted to Chief Signal Officer, he oversaw major telegraph projects and coordinated relief after the 1906 San Francisco earthquake. Upon reaching the mandatory retirement age of 64, Congress awarded him a Medal of Honor for “his life of splendid public service.” This remains the last Medal of Honor bestowed for non‑combat duty.

2 Waiting 151 Years For Recognition

Some Medals of Honor are presented swiftly, often thanks to commanding officers who can quickly push recommendations up the chain. Others take decades, requiring special congressional approval when the two‑year recommendation window closes. This process has occasionally led to elderly veterans receiving honors for youthful deeds.

Alonzo Cushing, a West Point graduate of June 1861, fought bravely during the Civil War. At Gettysburg’s climactic Pickett’s Charge, he commanded several Union cannons in the center of the line. After intense bombardment killed his superiors and wounded him, Cushing refused evacuation, continuing to direct fire until he fell with his final shot.

Although his heroism was well‑remembered—he even appears in an 1883 panoramic painting of the battle—it wasn’t until a determined Wisconsin woman championed his cause that the Medal of Honor was finally awarded. In 2014, 151 years after his death, President Barack Obama presented the medal to Cushing’s closest living relative, a distant cousin who had spent weeks locating her.

1 Sitting Around For Five Days

The Battle of Gettysburg in 1863 was a crucible of terror and heroism. While the famed 20th Maine held a pivotal position, two of its men earned Medals of Honor for fierce fighting. In stark contrast, 864 other Maine soldiers received the same medal for doing essentially nothing.

During the crisis, the short‑term 27th Maine regiment’s enlistments were ending. A cabinet member urged the men to stay in Washington, D.C., until the Confederate invasion was repelled, promising a Medal of Honor to each volunteer. While many refused, 311 soldiers remained, only to find their presence unnecessary. They performed light garrison duty while the main battle raged in Pennsylvania, and were discharged alongside their peers once the threat subsided.

Because records of who stayed were lost, the War Department, unable to identify the promised recipients, awarded Medals of Honor to every man in the regiment—864 in total. The medals were sent to former commander Mark Wentworth, who tried to locate the actual volunteers. He ended up with over 500 surplus medals, which he stored in his barn. After his death, the trove vanished, its whereabouts unknown. A 1916 review board later struck 911 medals from the rolls, including all 864 from the 27th Maine, deeming them undeserved. This episode underscores the military’s commitment to preserving the Medal of Honor’s prestige, even if corrective action arrives decades later.

We all like to indulge our appetites every now and then. Maybe eat a bit more than we should. Maybe try out something new or exotic, or maybe simply ravage an entire pint of delicious ice cream in one go. Well, compared to the next ten entries, we’re not even playing in the same ballpark.

10 William Buckland

We start off with William Buckland, famed English theologian, geologist, paleontologist, and Dean of Westminster. In 1824, he wrote the first complete account of a dinosaur, which he named Megalosaurus. However, it was his relationship with non‑extinct or extant animals that we are concerned with.

Buckland wanted to eat everything. It was literally his life’s ambition to eat one of every animal on the planet, like some kind of bizarre mash‑up between Noah and Hannibal Lecter. Because, as he taught his students at Oxford, the stomach “rules the world. The great ones eat the less, the less the lesser still!”

Buckland’s position with the Society for the Acclimatization of Animals allowed him to import all sorts of exotic animals to the country. Hedgehogs, panthers, crocodiles, ostrich, porpoises – they all made their way to his dining table. The worst thing he tasted was apparently blue bottles, while mice on toast were his go‑to snack.

By far the strangest story involving Buckland’s bizarre appetite concerns the mummified heart of a French king, but this one is in the “maybe” pile as to whether it actually happened or not. In 1848, while visiting Lord Harcourt, the Archbishop of York, Buckland was presented with a preserved heart in a silver casket, said to be that of King Louis XIV. Unable to restrain himself, the theologian immediately gobbled it up in front of his shocked audience.

9 John Montagu

Compared to everyone else on this list, John Montagu, the 4th Earl of Sandwich, had quite tame eating habits. However, they were still unusual for that time and he is much better remembered nowadays for them than for anything else he did, despite the fact that he held the positions of Postmaster General, Secretary of State, and First Lord of the Admiralty during his lifetime.

John Montagu gave his name to one of the most common, versatile, and popular foods of all time – the humble sandwich. There is no doubt that he popularized it, but did Montagu actually invent the sandwich? Well, no. It is such a basic snack that it has existed, one way or another, for a long time before the earl, but we have no idea who actually was its creator. The practice is, at least, 2,000 years old, as an account of Rabbi Hillel the Elder making sandwiches exists dating back to the 1st century BC.

As to how exactly Montagu became associated with the sandwich, the story goes that he was such an inveterate gambler that he asked for some simple sustenance in the form of meat between two slices of bread so that he wouldn’t have to get up from the card table. A more flattering version claims that Montagu was such a dedicated man that he ordered sandwiches at his desk so he wouldn’t have to stop working.

8 Nicholas Wood

While Buckland consumed strange food for his own gratification, other people managed to turn it into a career. At first glance, Nicholas Wood looked like a typical 17th‑century English farmer. However, when it was lunchtime, the man could easily put away 60 eggs, multiple pies, and a hefty chunk of lamb, and still hunger for more. No wonder, though, that he became known as the Great Eater of Kent.

At first, Wood did this to impress the fellas down at his local inn, but he soon realized that he could turn his prodigious appetite into a sideshow act for fairs and festivals. He even got booked every now and then as entertainment for a nobleman’s banquet or two. Wood particularly attracted the attention of poet John Taylor, who gave us the most detailed account of Wood’s eating prowess in a pamphlet he wrote with the catchy name “The Great Eater, of Kent, or Part of the Admirable Teeth and Stomach Exploits of Nicholas Wood, of Harrisom in the County of Kent His Excessive Manner of Eating Without Manners, In Strange and True Manner Described.”

Taylor was so impressed that he wanted to become Wood’s manager and bring him to London. At first, the “Kentish Tenterbelly,” as the poet called him, agreed, but he got cold feet and backed out. From that point on, Taylor no longer mentioned his feasting feats and the Great Eater of Kent disappeared from the annals of history.

7 Apicius

Although we don’t know much about Apicius, we do know that he lived in Rome sometime during the 1st century, that he had extravagant tastes when it came to food, and that he had the wealth to indulge in them. There is even a Roman cookbook named after him, better known as De re Culinaria, although it is a collection of collected recipes and it is impossible to tell how many were contributed by Apicius himself.

Some of the gourmet dishes recommended by Apicius included stuffed mice, jellyfish omelets, and dolphin meatballs. The tastiest food, however, was something a bit more commonplace – pork or goose liver. The best way to prepare it involved feeding the animal dry figs until it was stuffed and then making it drink “mead or honyed wine” until it keeled over dead. According to Apicius, there was no other “flesh of any other living creature, that yeeldeth more store of dishes to the maintenance of gluttonie, than this.”

Apicius is also credited with creating the most decadent dish of that era, which, for Roman times, is really saying something – the lark tongue pie. The reason this course was so outrageous was because the lark was a tiny bird. Its tongue was absolutely minuscule and you needed around a thousand birds for a single pie.

6 Andre The Giant

Not all men have large appetites for food. Some of them enjoy their drinks more than their vittles and, if the stories are to be believed, then Andre the Giant was the biggest drinker of them all.

As his name might suggest, French pro wrestler and “The Princess Bride” actor Andre the Giant was a mountain of a man. He wasn’t nicknamed “The Eighth Wonder of the World” for nothing. So you would expect a guy like him to imbibe more than your average person, but even for his size, Andre’s love of all things alcohol was legendary among all those who knew him.

Pretty much every wrestler from that era has, at least, one Andre drinking story. Bobby Heenan wrote in his memoir that the Giant once stayed until 4 a.m. at the Marriott Hotel bar drinking 40 vodka tonics before finally calling it a night. He would often down six bottles of wine just to get him in the mood for more drinking. When he had to stop drinking to lose weight, he restrained himself to only four or five bottles with dinner.

Andre’s biggest drinking session came when he knocked back 119 beers in just six hours. According to the wrestlers he was with, that was the only time they actually saw the Giant pass out from booze, which he did in a hotel hallway. The problem was that he was too heavy to move so, instead, they draped a piano cover over him and let him sleep it off. Andre remained undisturbed until the next day, as everyone thought he was a piece of furniture.

5 Michel Lotito

From one Frenchman, we move on to another, Michel Lotito, better known as Monsieur Mangetout or “Mr. Eat‑All.” As his name implies, his appetite wasn’t particularly picky. Lotito ate everything. And when we say “everything,” we don’t mean any kind of food that he could get his hands on. We mean everything – glass, razor blades, beds, television sets, computers, bicycles, chandeliers, and, his crowning achievement, an entire Cessna 150 airplane.

Lotito discovered his unusual skill when he was a teenager. It was a combination of two bizarre physical traits – an abnormally high threshold for pain and an extra‑thick stomach lining and intestines, which meant that he could swallow just about anything with little ill effects.

He first achieved fame in 1979 when he entered the Guinness Book of Records for eating a bicycle over the course of 15 days. From then on, TV shows, fairs, and festival appearances followed, but already he had started on his most ambitious project. It took Lotito two years, between 1978 and 1980, but he managed to eat, piece by piece, an entire Cessna 150 aircraft.

Guinness estimated that Lotito consumed around nine tons of metal during his lifetime. Oddly enough, it was soft foods such as bananas and boiled eggs that gave him an upset stomach.

4 Elagabalus

Having a ravenous and extravagant appetite is one thing, but also being able to indulge it is quite another. In order to afford such outlandish and hedonistic dishes on a regular basis, you’d have to be a Roman emperor or something. Lucky for Elagabalus, that’s exactly what he was.

Tales of the excesses of Elagabalus have often been told, mainly by people who didn’t like him very much. But there is no doubt that the young emperor enjoyed the finest things in life. When Elagabalus and his guests dined, they all sat on silver beds, as the perfume of amaranth was gently fanned by boys whose curly locks were used as napkins. As for the menu:

“Sows’ breasts with Lybian truffles; dormice baked in poppies and honey; peacocks’ tongues flavored with cinnamon; oysters stewed in garum…flamingoes’ and ostriches’ brains, followed by the brains of thrushes, parakeets, pheasants, and peacocks, also a yellow pig cooked after the Trojan fashion, from which, when carved, hot sausages fell and live thrushes flew; sea‑wolves from the Baltic, sturgeons from Rhodes, fig‑peckers from Samos, African snails and the rest.”

3 Francis Battalia

Everyone on this list had large and unusual appetites, but at least most of them consumed food. That cannot be said for 17th‑century Italian soldier Francis Battalia. We’ll let you guess what his preferred nourishment was, but we’ll give you a hint – he was known as the Stone‑Eater.

Like others, Battalia turned his peculiar eating habits into a sideshow performance. In front of a curious crowd, he would swallow large plates full of stones and gravel, and then shake his body violently so the people could hear them rustle inside his stomach.

Unsurprisingly, some people were skeptical and thought that Battalia was faking the whole thing, but he allowed himself to be tested to show that his Stone‑Eater act was legit. A doctor named Bulwer wrote an account of Battalia in his paper Artificial Changeling. He claimed that the Italian was monitored for 24 hours, a time during which he not only ate exclusively rocks, but also excreted a sandy and crumbly substance.

2 Tarrare

The third and final Frenchman on our list, Tarrare was someone who, like others previously mentioned, would eat just about everything he could get his hands on. However, he didn’t do it to set records or to put on a show, he did it because his hunger simply would not stop.

Ostensibly born in Lyon circa 1772, Tarrare’s gargantuan appetite started exhibiting from an early age. Eventually, unable to feed him, his parents kicked him out, so teenage Tarrare roamed the streets of France, begging, stealing, and putting on sideshows to try and satiate his unending appetite.

When the War of the First Coalition broke out, Tarrare joined the French Revolutionary Army, but even quadruple rations weren’t enough to satisfy him. He was admitted to the hospital, where doctors were mainly interested in testing the limits of his gluttony. They once fed Tarrare a meal fit for fifteen men, which he devoured without any problem. They started feeding him live animals – cats, dogs, snakes, lizards – Tarrare ate them all without hesitation.

The army tried using him as a courier who would swallow secret documents, cross the border and pass them through his system a couple of days later. The experiment was an abysmal failure, as Tarrare was caught immediately, kept prisoner for a few days, given a beating, and sent over the border.

Back in France, doctors started experimenting on him again, but would no longer feed him all he could eat. Whenever Tarrare didn’t get his fill, he prowled the streets at night, scrounging the gutters for garbage and offal. He then moved on to munching on the corpses in the morgue and was even suspected of stealing and eating a toddler. At that point, the doctors said enough is enough and chased the famished fiend out of the hospital.

1 Charles Darwin

We end with the most famous name on our list – Charles Darwin. Obviously, he was a man fascinated with the animal world around him, and it seems that this fascination also included wanting to know how they all tasted…for science, of course.

Darwin first started indulging in this habit during his student years at Cambridge, where he became a member of the Glutton Club, whose goal was to feast on “birds and beasts which were before unknown to the human palate.” They ate hawks and bitterns, but were left supremely disappointed by a dish of brown owl, which Darwin could later only describe as “indescribable.”

Once aboard the Beagle and headed to faraway lands, Darwin could once again indulge his cravings for rare and exotic meat. Pumas, iguanas, giant tortoises, and armadillos were all on the menu, but it was a giant rodent assumed to be an agouti that the naturalist described as “the very best meat [he] ever tasted.”