Britain’s Tallest Giant

Although he did not hail from the North West, the burial place of Frederick Kempster (1989-1918) is at Blackburn in Lancashire.  He died there, according to the Lancashire Telegraph, whilst taking part in a travelling show.

The records suggest that the tallest known Britain – meaning that his measurements have been confirmed – was a man from Yorkshire called William Bradley, who was born in 1797.  Apparently, the Guinness Book of Records gives Bradley the title of the tallest British man in history at 7ft, 9 inches.

Documentation suggests, however, that Frederick Kempster beat that by .3 of an inch.  What’s interesting for me is how, even within the boundaries of modern times, proving accuracy in measurements is not as straight-forward as one might anticipate.  What I mean is that Kempster’s verified dimensions are still a little in doubt, even though he died less than 100 years ago, and his life and size were not infrequently detailed in newspapers and in photographs.

Just four years before his untimely death, The Daily Mail wrote about a visit Kempster made to its premises: “The hood of a taxicab had to be raised before he could enter, and when he reached The Daily Mail office he had to remove his hat and stoop in the lift.  He is 21 years of age.  His height is 8 feet 2 1/2 inches, and he is known as ‘the Bayswater Giant’.

(Source: http://www.thetallestman.com/frederickkempster.htm)

This article is cited on Tallest Man website by the grandson of Frederick’s younger brother George.  Despite the Mail’s view that Kempster reached over 8 feet tall, James Kempster concludes that his great uncle was, in fact, 7ft, 9.3 inches (237cm) tall. 

Whether or not he beat William Bradley by a third of an inch, it is certain Frederick Kempster would have been a stupendous site.  He died of pneumonia, with ill effects to his health attributed to being confined to prison in Germany just before the hostilities of World War 1 erupted.

Here’s a lovely detail to conclude: one newspaper article suggested that his hand could “span 16 notes with one hand on a piano keyboard”.  I do not know whether he played the piano, but if he did, I wonder how well he might have tackled Rachmaninoff’s challenging piano concertos deploying his prodigiously large hands and fingers.