Oddlets from United Kingdom.

He rode a caiman like a horse, built the world's first nature reserve, and accidentally set in motion the theory of evolution.

The zoo that once refused to hire him now sends its directors to the training academy he built.

He inoculated himself with a patient's discharge to settle a scientific question, and his reputation was so enormous that nobody checked his work for fifty-one years.

A paint-eating raven died, got stuffed, and ended up inspiring two of the most famous works in English literature — from two different writers.

He built the largest ballroom in England and used it to roller-skate alone.

He kept pigs as hunting dogs, trained otters to fish, and when the King of England finally summoned him to court, he had a scheduling conflict.

She had a coffin she liked to lie in before writing each morning, to focus her mind.

She arrived at the Royal Society in 1666, critiqued their methods to their faces, and they used her visit as justification to ban every woman who came after her — for 278 years.

He inherited 132,000 acres at age two and died in a debtors' prison at thirty-seven, and those are not the strange parts.

When Trinity College banned dogs from student rooms, Byron checked the statutes, confirmed they said nothing about bears, and installed one.

A century before the Civil War, a four-foot-seven cave-dweller in a military coat walked into a Quaker meeting and sprayed fake blood on every slaveholder in the room.

He kept his route secret so no rival could reach the city first. More than a hundred people have since died trying to find him.