Before we move on from our recent series on animal monuments, we pause for a recap…
We kick off a new Wednesday series next week…
Before we move on from our recent series on animal monuments, we pause for a recap…
We kick off a new Wednesday series next week…
The statue of ‘Jacob’, a working dray horse, represents the horses who once worked at John Courage’s Anchor Brewhouse in Bermondsey near Tower Bridge.
The Courage horses – responsible for delivering beer from the brewery to pubs in London – were stabled beside the establishment, near where the monument now stands in Queen Elizabeth Street. Though the brewery buildings remain (and are now apartments), the stables do not.
Jacob, the statue, was installed by Jacobs Island Company and Farlane Properties in 1987 at the centre of the residential development known as ‘The Circle’ to commemorate the history of the site. The monument, which was delivered to the site by helicopter, is the work of artist Shirley Pace.
Jacob’s name apparently comes from Jacob’s Island which was formerly located in the area.
The area where the brewery stood was formerly part of the parish of Horsleydown – a moniker that is said by some to have derived from “horse-lie-down”, a description of working horses resting nearby on the south bank of the Thames before crossing London Bridge into the City of London.
Famously associated with Leadenhall Market, Old Tom was a gander who for several decades was a popular figure at the City of London marketplace.
Said to have been born in the late 1790s, he was brought to London among a massive contingent of birds from the Continent the aim of being fattened up for the market block.
The story goes that when the time came for the chop, however, Tom did a dash and apparently held off his pursuers for several days, avoiding becoming one of the 34,000 hapless geese which were apparently slaughtered in a two day period. His doggedness in defying the blade led to sympathy among the workers at the market who decided to let him be.
Feed on tidbits from local inns, Tom took up residence and became something of a favourite among those who worked there. He apparently lived to the the ripe old age of 37 or 38-years-old and when he died in 1835, such was the love for him, that Tom lay in state at the market to allow people to pay their respects before his burial at the market. His obituary was published in The Times, referring to him as the “chief of geese, the poulterer’s pride”.
Old Tom is mentioned on a plaque at the entrance to Leadenhall Market (pictured) which tells something of his story and there’s also a bar within Leadenhall Market itself which serves as a memorial – Old Tom’s Bar.
Some also believe that the two identical statues of a small boy grappling with a goose (pictured below) which sit atop the former Midland Bank headquarters building, located at 27 Poultry (and now hotel called The Ned) – just a few hundred paces from the market, also commemorate the gander.
The website of The Ned, however, suggests the statues, designed by Sir William Reid Dick for the architect Edwin Lutyens was actually inspired by Boethus’ famous sculpture of a boy playing with a goose which can be found in the Vatican.
Maybe it’s both?
PICTURES: Google Maps
Sadly, we don’t know the name of this pachyderm – if it had one – but we do know that a couple of elephants lived in the Tower of London during the Middle Ages.
The first elephant to arrive was presented to King Henry III as a gift by King Louis IX of France.
The animal was apparently shipped across the Channel in 1255 and brought to the Tower of London by boat. A special 40 foot long wooden elephant house was built to accommodate it at the Tower.
It’s no surprise that such an exotic species attracted widespread interest. The medieval chronicler Matthew Paris was so intrigued he travelled from his monastery in St Albans to see it, noting that it was “the only elephant ever seen in England” (although it’s said that the Roman Emperor Claudius, when he arrived in Britain, came with elephants).
The elephant didn’t survive long – it died just two years after arriving in England and was buried in the Tower’s bailey. Its bones were apparently later dug up; it’s speculated this was so they could be made into receptacles for holy relics.
The elephant depicted could also represent one sent to King James I by the Spanish King in 1623 along with instructions that the poor creature should only drink wine between the months of September and April.
Made with galvanised wire, the sculpture of the elephant’s head – located in the courtyard between the Lantern and Salt Towers – is one of 13 representing some of the animal inhabitants of the Tower over the centuries. On display until 2021, ‘Royal Beasts’ is the work of artist Kendra Haste.
WHERE: Tower of London (nearest Tube station Tower Hill); WHEN: 9am to 4.30pm, Tuesday to Saturday, 10am to 4.30pm Sunday to Monday; COST: £24.70 adults; £11.70 children 5 to 15; £19.30 concessions (family tickets available; discounts for online purchases/memberships); WEBSITE: www.hrp.org.uk/toweroflondon/.
Set into a wall of the V&A’s John Madejski Garden in South Kensington are two small plaques – one dedicated to “Jim” and another to “Tycho”. Both, as one of the plaques records, were dogs, at least one of which belonged to the museum’s first director, Sir Henry Cole.
Jim was a Yorkshire terrier who died at Sir Henry’s home on 30th January, 1879, at the age of (as the plaque records) 15 years.
Sir Henry wrote in his diary on that day that “Jimmy”, who died very quietly apparently of “asthma and cold”, had been portrayed in Punch with him (although it was actually in Vanity Fair in 1871) and “was a character in the Museum”.
While Jim’s story is fairly well known, there’s a little more mystery surrounding the identity of Tycho, which the plaques records as a “faithful dog” who who died in 1885.
But according to Nicholas Smith, an archivist based at the V&A Archive and his meticulously researched blog post on the matter, Tycho is also mentioned in Cole’s diary – not as his own dog but as that of his son Alan. Indeed, one diary entry records Tycho fighting with another dog (presumably Cole senior’s) named Pickle. Which as Smith points out, begs the question of why no plaque for Pickle?
Both Jim and Tycho are believed to be buried in the garden where the plaques can be seen (which may explain the lack of a plaque for Pickle).
Captured preparing to jump off a red brick wall, this small playful statue of a domestic cat named Sam can be found in the south-west corner of Queen Square Gardens in Holborn.
The bronze statue actually commemorates Patricia Penn (1914-1992), a former resident in the square who was a nurse, “champion of local causes” and member of the Queen Square Resident’s Association. The statue was donated by the local community in Penn’s memory.
As is clear from the monument, Penn was also a cat lover. Sam was, of course, one of her pet cats.
Sadly, the original version of Sam – which was installed in 2002 to mark the 10th anniversary of Penn’s death, was stolen in 2007. But a replacement was installed in 2009 – this time with steel rods running into the bricks to prevent it being taken again.
This bronze statue located at Tobacco Dock in Wapping commemorates an incident in 1857 in which a newly arrived Bengal tiger escaped from its wooden crate, terrorised the local population and absconded with a boy in its mouth.
The tiger, along with various other animals, had just arrived at a premises on Betts Street, just off the Ratcliffe Highway, which was owned by exotic animal trader Charles Jamrach, the man behind Jamrach’s Animal Emporium, when it made its break for freedom.
The boy, variously said to be seven, eight or nine-years-old, had apparently approached the tiger to pet it when the tiger took the boy by his jacket and carried him off in its mouth, presumably looking for a quiet place to consume its prey.
Jamrach followed, subsequently bailing up the tiger and, thrusting his cane into the big cat’s throat, forcing it to let go of the no-doubt terrified boy.
The tiger, which was guided back to its cage after the event, was subsequently sold for £300 to George Wombwell and went on to become a popular tourist attraction in his travelling menagerie.
Despite being relatively unharmed, the boy (variously described as seven, eight or nine, however, sued Jamrach and was awarded some £300 in damages – the same amount Jamrach had sold the animal for.
The statue is located near where the event happened by Tobacco Dock’s Pennington Street entrance.
Sitting at the foot of a statue of artist William Hogarth – described on the monument as the “father of English painting” but perhaps best known today for his satirical prints such as Gin Lane – in Chiswick High Road in London’s west is his beloved pug dog, Trump.
Trump, like the other dogs, appears in several of Hogarth’s works including the self-portrait and the 1746 work Captain Lord George Graham in his Cabin, now at the National Maritime Museum.
The dog was also the subject of a terracotta sculpture by Frenchman Louis-François Roubiliac, created to accompany a bust of Hogarth in 1741. It was later reproduced in porcelain versions and plaster casts of it were sold after Hogarth’s death in 1764. While the original of sculpture of the dog is lost, the bust of Hogarth can still be seen at the National Portrait Gallery.
Hogarth is often said to have compared himself to his dogs and his close connection was noted by others who used it to make fun of the artist including Paul Sandby who, in a 1753 etching, depicted Hogarth as half-pug.
The statue, which stands opposite the intersection with Turnham Green Terrace, is located not far from the country retreat where Hogarth lived – splitting his time between it and his Leicester Square townhouse – between 1749 and his death (now a museum known as Hogarth’s House; the artist is also buried nearby)
The work of Jim Matheison, it was unveiled by Ian Hislop and David Hockney in 2001.
This famous cat, belonging to lexicographer Dr Samuel Johnson (1709-84), is memorialised outside his former home in Gough Square.
Johnson was known for his fondness of this particular cat – his biographer James Boswell, reports, for example: “I recollect him one day scrambling up Dr Johnson’s breast, apparently with much satisfaction, while my friend smiling and half-whistling, rubbed down his back, and pulled him by the tail.”
According to Boswell, Johnson told him that while he had had finer cats, Hodge – who is believed to have been a black cat – was a “very fine cat indeed”. Such was the cat’s renown that poet Percival Stockdale wrote an Elegy on The Death of Dr Johnson’s Favourite Cat.
This statue to Hodge was erected in 1966 by then Lord Mayor of London, Sir Roger Cook. The work of Jon Bickley (who apparently modelled Hodge on his own cat Thomas Henry), it depicts Hodge sitting on top of Johnson’s famous (and massive) dictionary and next to some empty oyster shells (the latter a reference to Johnson’s habit of feeding oysters to Hodge – while this wasn’t unusual, Johnson’s going out himself to fetch them himself – lest his servants resent Hodge – was).
The monument, which has Hodge looking towards his former home, features a plaque which has Johnson’s quote about Hodge – “a very fine cat indeed” – as well as his famous quote about the city in which they lived – “Sir, when a man is tired of London, he is tired of life, for there is in London all that life can afford.”
Dr Johnson’s former house and workplace at number 17 Gough Square, where he lived for 11 years, is now a museum.
From a cat to a dog – this week we’re looking at the grave of Victorian-era bare knuckle prize fighter Tom Sayers which features a statue of his faithful hound, Lion.
Sayers – widely considered the first boxer to hold the World Heavyweight Champion after he defeated American John Camel Heenan in 1860 – had a career spanning more than a decade in the the mid-19th century and was able to retire in 1860 thanks to a generous public. But he died only five years later at the age of 39 in 1865.
His burial at Highgate Cemetery – where this tomb is located – is said to have been attended by 10,000 people, such was his fame. Lion, a mastiff, was described as the “chief mourner” at his funeral.
Lion had been Sayers’ dog since at least early 1861 when mentions of the brown dog accompanying the pugilist started to appear in the press. The newspapers noted the apparent bond between the two but when Sayers failed bid to create a circus saw him auction off various associated animals and paraphernalia, that didn’t stop Lion being on the auction list.
Sayers apparently had a change of heart, however, as Lion’s turn to go under the hammer came up and stepped in to buy back the dog – but not before the price had apparently run up to 20 guineas.
Following Sayers’ death, Lion again went to auction and this time was sold to a close friend of Sayers, a former soldier who was the landlord of the Welsh Harp pub where the boxer had held his circus auction.
Following a public subscription, the stone monument – including the statue of Lion – was installed over Sayers’ grave in 1866.
Lion, however, was again sold and apparently ended his life on a country estate.
WHERE: Western Cemetery, Swain’s Lane (nearest Tube is Archway); WHEN: Guided tour only – bookings essential for weekdays/no bookings on weekends (tours run every half hour from 10.30am to 3pm); COST: £12 adults/£6 children eight 17/no children under 8; WEBSITE: www.highgate-cemetery.org
OK, there’s a plethora of monuments in London which depict animals including well-known Animals in War Memorial in Park Lane. But in this series we thought we’d take a look at some of the less well-known monuments or those that are a little off the beaten track.
First up, it’s Dick Whittington’s cat – sometimes portrayed as male cat called Tommy – who can be seen sitting atop what’s called The Whittington Stone at the foot of Highgate Hill in London’s north.
The Grade II-listed monument, the base of which dates from 1821 and was restored in 1935, is said to mark the spot where Whittington, who was said to be about to give up on life in the city after failing to make his fortune and, with his cat in tow, was making his way home to Gloucestershire, heard the famous Bow Bells of London ring out and apparently say to him “Turn Again Whittington! Thrice Lord Mayor of London!”.
Which he did and which become true, apparently thanks to his cat whom he sold for a fortune in gold to someone from a rat-infested land, usually referred to as the Kingdom of Barbary.
Of course, Sir Richard Whittington, while known by many through Christmas pantomimes, was a real person who lived in the 14th and 15th centuries (and was indeed Mayor of London three times) but whether he actually had a cat remains a matter of conjecture.
The sculpture of the cat, made of polished black Kellymount limestone, is the work of Jonathan Kenworthy, and was only added to the top of the stone in 1964.
There is apparently a belief that if the Whittington Stone is ever removed or any harm befall it, it is an omen of disaster.
WHERE: Highgate Hill, near the intersection with Magdala Avenue (nearest Tube station is Archway); WHEN: Anytime; COST: Free; WEBSITE: No.