'Sense' sheds light on forgotten blind traveler

Dan Danbom, Special to the News

Published July 7, 2006 at midnight

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By any standard, what James Holman accomplished in the early 19th century was remarkable. But because he accomplished it as a blind man, he became a novelty on a par with a horse that could do arithmetic, leading to both admiration and skepticism: admiration because his achievements were truly prodigious, and skepticism because it seemed incomprehensible to many that a blind man's accounts of his travels were as valid as those of sighted persons.

He was celebrated in his day, but his fame faded with the years. Jason Roberts' new biography of Holman, A Sense of the World: How a Blind Man Became History's Greatest Traveler, is an admitted act of rehabilitation, and it's an act Roberts carries off with verve.

Holman was one of four sons of a pharmacist. In the rigid English social system of the early 1800s, he pursued upward mobility in the Navy, where who you knew was more important than who you were. He was a sailor at age 12 and a captain by 16, on duty off the coast of North America.

By means unknown, Holman gradually lost his sight. Despite his willingness to try nearly anything to regain his sight, nothing worked. "In 1811, even the most enlightened professional knew no more about the eye than might a curious butcher," Roberts writes.

Holman found sanctuary with an order called the Naval Knights of Windsor, a group of invalid former seamen whose membership provided "devotional duties" to the King in return for lifetime room and board. Under the Knights' accommodating roof, he was able to gain admittance to the University of Edinburgh, where he studied medicine to the point of being acknowledged as a doctor. (The university didn't issue degrees; you just studied enough until you could call yourself a doctor with a straight face.)

Concurrently, Holman got the travel bug. He had honed his perceptive powers "to the point that independent movement, even travel, was no longer daunting. As he would later explain (resorting to the third person) he had 'acquired an undefinable power, almost resembling instinct, which he believes in a lively manner gives him ideas of whatever may be going forward externally.' His confidence in that power has given him 'an almost irresistible inclination to visit different parts of his native country, in quest of knowledge or amusement.' "

Holman's idea was to do more than travel: He wanted to circumnavigate the globe. This was unheard of for an amateur. Without state sanction of travel, crossing borders was as difficult as any physical obstacle.

Holman's quest, then, was one he developed in secrecy and carried out with a considerable degree of deception. For example, he convinced the Russians that he wanted to establish a postal facility in Siberia to get their permission to travel there. He also had to conceal his intentions from his friends, whom he thought would stop him if they learned of his plans.

Though his plan was to get around the world, his route was anything but direct. At one time, he found himself part of an anti-slavery expedition to Fernando Po, an island off the coast of Africa that was advertised as an unexploited paradise. Instead, the mission became one of the deadliest in the annals of exploration when malaria took the lives of most of Holman's shipmates, and nearly took his as well.

But some unexpected good came out of the experience: His time on patrol off Fernando Po and medical care for his shipmates endeared him to the crews of other ships of the Royal Navy. Holman became kind of a favored mascot who could hitch a ride anywhere the Navy sailed. He cemented his favor with crews by beginning each voyage by climbing to the top of the vessel's swaying main mast.

We won't spoil your enjoyment of the book by going into a lot of detail about his travels, except to say that his blindness didn't inhibit him in the least. On one occasion, he took the helm of a ship during a storm. On another, admiring hunters gave him a gun - and he used it.

Roberts has achieved much in writing about Holman. His research is meticulous, and, combined with such an engaging and likable character as James Holman, a person lost to history is now rediscovered.

Dan Danbom is a freelance writer living in Denver.

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