I am astounded.I cannot account for it, no one can.No one understands it, a St Louis man uttered after watching Blind Tomperform in concert in 1866. Hismystification was by no means isolated. Few other performers on thenineteenth century stage aroused as much curiosity as Blind Tom Wiggins. Borna slave in Georgia in 1848, by the time he died Hoboken in 1908, he was aninternational celebrity and his name was a byword for inexplicable genius.

From an earlyage, it was clear that Blind Tom possessed extraordinary musical gifts. Hecould imitate, either vocally or musically, any sound he heard. This, coupledwith an encyclopedic memory and all-encompassing passion for music, meant thatby the age of sixteen, he hovered somewhere between a respected concert pianistand glorified sideshow freak. For the following forty years, he toured thelength and breadth of North America, soaking up the sounds of the Civil War andGilded Age, then baffling audiences with his astonishing gifts.

Duringthe tumultuous election campaign of 1860, for instance, he was taken to apolitical rally in support of Democratic presidential candidate Senator StephenDouglas of Illinois. Tom heard his speech and years after he would deliver thisoration, capturing not only the senators distinctive boom and mannerisms, butthe crowds heckles and cheers. Somehow he could recall the sensorysnapshot of that moment with sparkling precision.

One of his musicteachers described how Tom, now a man in his thirties, learned Beethovens 3rdConcerto to perfection in the space of an afternoon. He then stunned her bycapping off the lesson by turning his back to the piano and playing the basswith his right hand and the treble with his left hand. Somehow Tom couldseparate the treble from the bass as if they were detached, self-containedstreams that were independent of one another.

Tomsgravity-defying acrobatics were also cause for much bewildered comment. Hewould routinely stand on one foot, his body bent forward and his back legraised to form a T. Then he