Beastly London cover

I feel a fanfare is in order, but, failing that, a ripple of applause should follow the revelation of the Beastly London cover...

Launch date is August 1st 2013, although it is available for pre-order now. I will be unleashing a Twitter storm of publicity with a remarkable-fact-or-picture-a-day for a month, post-publication - please keep an eye out for that: @hannahvelten

The Wrong Package

Rushed to the post office collection depot last Monday expecting to collect a package containing the first draft of Beastly London. But, very disappointingly, the said package was from a PR company - I was not amused. Left said package on kitchen workstop and glared at it every time I passed it. 'What a waste of my time, collecting that,' I thought. Said package then started to really annoy me, just because it existed, so I ripped it open... just before planning to deposit contents in the bin.

Sometimes, sweet things come in packages from PR companies - quite literally. A chocolate horseshoe and a bucket full of apples and carrots (sweets and chocolates); I softened. But what was this all about? #DancePonyDance apparently.

It all became clear a few days later when this appeared on the TV. I dare you not to soften too!

Beastly London... coming in August

Just thought I'd share some news. I've now finished the photo captions and photo placements for Beastly London: A History of Animals in the City (a new subtitle added this week). The book will be out in August and the editing begins next week, with indexing to follow. I have no idea what the front cover will be like yet, although I'm not worried because Reaktion Books makes a beautiful job when it comes to design.

I have completed the Author's Questionnaire which allows me to put forward my ideas for marketing, which means thinking big (the book to be sold in every bookshop in London, every London museum and animal-related outlet, etc.), but not actually expecting that volume of sales to happen.

 

Now publication is approaching I'm looking again at the papers for animal/London stories to update the manuscript which I wrote way back in 2011, before the London Olympics and the equestrian teams thundered round, jumped and pranced over Greenwich Park. Trouble is, I'm finding new historical nuggets of information (like the above picture from the Blue Cross website) which I feel should be included, and every time I talk to someone about the book they come up with something else for me to check out... this research could continue indefinately, but it CAN'T! I have already had to chop my original manuscript by about 16,000 words, because apparently a reader nowadays doesn't have the patience to read through 123,000 words. I also have over 100 images, which I now cannot change.

I guess it's just a bout of the jitters rearing its head, as the 'baby' I've nurtured for about four years will finally be born into the public domain, but I have to concentrate on the launch date and publicizing the book. I have a Twitter account, which I'm building up gradually, but apart from that I have done nothing. Do I have a book launch? If so, where in London? I had thought above an old East End pub where ratting contest took place. I also need to think about articles for magazines, newspapers and blogs. The book launch 'to-do' list is seemingly endless. What about my publisher doing the publicity for me, I hear you cry?! It's so much easier to research and write a book than to sell it!

Barnum's American Museum burns.... along with the animals

The ‘biggest liar of the age’ was at his typewriter on the afternoon of 13 July, 1865 reliving the spectacle of the living exhibits within Barnum’s American Museum being burned alive. A fire had broken out in the New York museum (on the corner of Ann Street and Broadway) at around noon and, according to this journalist, the animals in the menagerie suffered unimaginable anguish and pain as they were swallowed up by the flames. He writes of a terrible combat between an escaped lion and tiger and of a snake throttling a lioness. He continues:

 One of the alligators was killed almost immediately by falling across a great fragment of shattered glass, which cut open his stomach and let out the greater part of his entrails to the light of day. The remaining alligator became involved in a controversy with an anaconda, and joined the melee in the centre of the blazing apartment. At this moment the floor, undermined by flame, gave way with an awful crash, and the living, struggling, howling, writhing mass was launched into a gulf of red and yellow fire, sending up a whirlwind of smoke, sparks, and cinders to the very heavens. The last object I saw was the Polar bear, upon a white-hot square of sheet-iron, with all the hair burnt from his hide, and standing stark and stiff and rapidly baking brown. Before the whale went down with the rest a stream of spermaceti ran from his carcass down the sides of the building, taking fire and making impromptu candles on a colossal scale.

New Yorkers read these hideous descriptions in horror. Fortunately, the journalist was exposed by a fellow reporter as a charlatan when it became apparent that there was no lion, tiger or polar bear in the building – they were all conjured up in the mind of the publicity-seeking reporter.

However… there were animals that died in the fire and P.H Barnum confirmed a few days later that animals died, although not in the numbers suggested in the newspapers. Living exhibits made up a small proportion of those on show in the Museum, alongside stuffed animals, wax works, ephemera and human curiosities, such as Tom Thumb. The Museum was the first American institution to combine sensational entertainment and gaudy display with instruction and moral uplift – it was supposedly the most visited place in America.  

 

 

The New York Times (dated 14 July 1865) probably contains the clearest, and most accurate, account of the fire. In the centre of the museum’s second floor stood an immense tank, 25ft in diameter, containing two whales (Beluga). These were the Museum’s eighth and ninth whales; the original two were caught off the coast of Labrador, Canada in 1861 and imported at the cost of $7,000. The newspaper covers their demise:

Their sportive plunges and animated contests of affection afforded constant amusement to hundreds of spectators, and a pregnant contrast to the fearful death by roasting which they so soon thereafter met….The whales were, of course, burned alive. At an early stage of the conflagration, the large panes of glass in the great "whale tank" were broken to allow the heavy mass of water to flow upon the floor of the main saloon, and the leviathan natives of Labrador, when last seen, were floundering in mortal agony, to the inexpressible delight of the unfeeling boys, who demanded a share of the blubber.

On the floor above was a collection of animals, including predators and their natural prey, all kept in one cage. The exhibit was known as the Happy Family and all of the animals perished:

…"sassy" monkeys, subdued dogs, meek rats, fat cats, plump pigeons, sleepy owls, prickly porcupines, gay guinea pigs, crowing cocks, hungry hounds, big monkeys, little monkeys, monkeys of every degree of tail, old, grave, gray monkeys, young, rascally, mischievous monkeys, middle-aged, scheming monkeys, and a great many miserable, mangy monkeys. Those animals and other creatures may have been ‘happy’, but they did'nt smell nicely; they doubtless lived respectable, but their antics were not pleasant to look at, and, to tell the truth, they frequently fought fiercely, and were badly beaten for it. However, they are gone; all burned to death, roasted whole, with stuffing au naturel, and in view of their lamentable end we may well say, "Peace to their ashes." In corner of the room was a pretty little kangaroo, but he too has gone, he can-go-round no more.



The New York Herald’s report of the fire gives an idea of the importance of the Happy Family exhibit to the children of New York (and their ‘country cousins’) which seemingly provided ‘much amusement’ and helped make a trip to Barnum’s a ‘great treat’. While the crowd outside could hear the cries of the animals in fear and pain, the Herald’s reporter thought with regret of the ‘persecutions’ which were metered out to some of the members of the Happy Family – the monkey who was given ‘blind [false?] nuts’ and the ‘unfortunate pussy’ named Jacko who was obviously tormented as he would sometimes attempt to bite fingers, but would usually submit to ‘persecutions…without a word of anger or reproach’. Goodness knows how the Happy Family community suffered at Barnam’s – perhaps it was a great relief that they were free of the cage once and for all…

Unfortunately, the list of deaths continues in the New York Times with the snakes in the ‘case of snakes’ and the crocodile/alligator:

Huge boa constrictors, thirty feet long and proportionally thick, very fond of rabbits and sheep, lay upon the floor of the cage. Smaller, but equally unpleasant snakes, hung about the perches, and a whole family of little fellows swarmed and wiggled about the warm stovepipe in the centre. These could not have been saved in any way; their mortal coils were heated quickly, their cages burned and their way before them; but it is probably a correct supposition that the hot breath of flame suffocated them before they could reach the ground and join the other reptiles on the lower tier….The "Man-Eater" also suffered a cruel death amid the burning pile. This representative of the saurian species remained passive and quiescent during the progress of the fire, as far as witnessed by mortal eye. True to his taciturn habits, the alligator failed to make the slightest attempt at escape.

However, much to the delight of the crowds waiting outside the burning museum, one of the Museum’s favourite attractions was saved – the ‘learned seal’ called Ned.  He occupied a conspicuous position on the second floor and was greatly admired. According to the New York Times, ‘…he could eat more small fishes in a short space of time than any seal we ever saw. Unlike the scriptural seals of which we read, he was never closed, but was invariably open, ready for a fish or a cracker. His performances on the hand-organ were, doubtless, painful to him, but to the flippant crowd they were amusing and pleasant… his home… combined the conveniences of a bath and the comforts of a sand-bank.’ Ned was rescued by a couple of men, one of whom he bit, and was carried to a place of safety with the crowd making way on every side. The New York Herald hoped that ‘we may at some future time see him perform as of yore.’

The crowds were also pleased to see a bear being rescued by firemen. A rope was tied round his waist and he descended the ladder looking ‘quite savage and not at all inclined for fun; accustomed to be looked at through iron bars he seemed at a loss to understand his present situation.’ It was thought that a few birds also succeeded in flying away.

It is difficult to image the panic within the Museum as the performers and visitors fled to escape the fire, but add escapee exotics into the melee and there really was cause for concern. The cabinet containing the ‘gigantic specimens of the ophidian [snakes] tribe, was capsized, and the tenants thereof were suffered to wander whither their fancy led. Naturally enough, they took advantage of their now-found liberty, and soon were traveling down stairs, to the infinite astonishment and alarm of the multitude.’ Other animals were also reported to be escaping, such as a lion which was supposedly rushing down Broadway - the result was, ‘the sudden flight of a few nervous people, who, imparting their terror to others, brought about quite a stampede.’

When the fires were finally quenched and Barnum’s insurers paid the reported $300,000 in losses, the museum was opened for a second time along the road in 1866, but was again burnt down. Perhaps realising that static exhibits were doomed to fail, Barnum went into the travelling circus industry and his past life at the Museum became overshadowed by his worldwide success.

Note: ‘The Lost Museum’ is an online version of the original Barnum American Museum, found at www.lostmuseum.cuny.edu/intro.html

Share The Joy (Dog Charity Appeal)

How to tie in a history of animals with a plug for a charity video, raising awareness of pets in need at Christmas??? Hmmmm.

Well, after watching the video - www.sharethejoy.co.uk (which my children thought was hilarious and I thought was pretty clever) - I decided to vote for the Dogs Trust, which is one of 5 dog charities which are in line to receive a £6,000 donation this Christmas.

The reason for my choice? All of the charities are worthy winners, but the Dogs Trust has a special mention in my forthcoming book - Beastly London - so I'm biased really....

The Dogs Trust, originally known as The National Canine Defence League (NCDL), was founded in 1891 'to protect dogs from torture and ill-usage of every kind'. I had a relatively quick flick through The Times archive and found a variety of issues which the NCDL highlighted between 1896 and 1915... it makes for a mixture of sad and heartening reading - probably much like their work today.

 

1896: Lobbied (London) County Council to withdraw the muzzling order (during rabies outbreaks all dogs out in the streets had to be muzzled, otherwise they could legally be 'removed') and suggested that as a substitute to muzzling (which was harsh and cruel treatment for many working dogs) the dogs should wear a numbered tag or disc attached to their collar which would be issued with the dog licence... the logic to the muzzling order ran thus: owned dog = no danger; stray dog = danger.

 

1898: Lobbied Parliament to stop incompetent policemen from being able to pass judgement onthe symptoms of rabies and bludgeon to death (on the street) any dog suspected of rabies: one case in the London press on 29 Feb, 1898 told of 'a poor little chow-chow dog (innocent of rabies) was bludgeoned by a London policeman twice on the head, then once on the body, and finally thrown half-dead upon a dust-heap’.

 

1903: Statements from the NCDL were read in Parliament about the ‘enormous extent to which dogs are being used for vivisectional experiments’ - they had sent a petition to Parliament for the prohibition of vivisection on dogs. By 1906 their petition included 700,000 signatures. The NCDL also offered a £5 reward for anyone able to trace the whereabouts of a Lady who (presumably) took pity on a Collie dog and took it home after it escaped the vivisectors and found its way into a shop in Gower Street – the dog had a cut throat and was suffering terribly.

 

By 1908, the NCDL had over 250 rescue/re-homing centres nationwide and the wish was for every city in the country to eventually have its own centre.

 

1913: Negotiations were held with the Railway Clearing House to improve the conditions under which dogs travelled by rail and steamer to reduce their suffering. It was agreed that dogs would be refused if their accommodation was too small; the RCH could not provide food but would offer water if the sender requested this on the labels, and it would also try to prevent delays in transit and delivery, where possible.

 

1913: Presentations (bronze medals) were given to the owners of heroic dogs, including ‘Grissel’, a Collie, who rescued a young child from drowning in Wandsworth Common pond; other medals went to dogs waking their owners when a fire broke out at night and one for saving his master who was attacked by a savage bull.

 

1913: The NCDL called attention to the suffering of chained dogs in the winter: ‘We hear of dogs in farmyards always chained, sometimes to a fence or post, without pretence at shelter, sitting and lying day and night on mud, snow, or the frosty ground. And the condition of dogs in allotment gardens is pitiable in the extreme. In addition to all the sufferings of captivity, they are sometimes left unvisited – and therefore presumably without food or water for days together. If it is not possible for a dog to be always at liberty, he should at least have a sound, dry, comfortable kennel, raised from the ground, so that its floor may not become damp, and provided with a bed of clean, dry straw or shavings, placed in an enclosure where he can be loose and move about. Dogs need liberty, comfort, and warmth in order to be happy.'

 

1914: An NCDL officer was called to county court to give evidence in the case of a dog-acrobat whose act was deemed to cause it ‘abject terror’ – being made to balance on the defendant’s hand upside-down and on the defendant’s head while he [the owner] climbed a ladder.

 

1915: During the First World War: ‘In order that soldiers’ and sailors’ dogs may not be destroyed for lack of means to keep them, the NCDL… is promoting a scheme for the free supply of dog biscuits.' From January to March 1915, they were supporting 152 dogs in this way and also paid for 878 licences for dogs belonging to fighting men: one poor woman with 7 children, the eldest of 13 years of age, wrote to the secretary of the league: ‘I knew if I had done away with his dog he would not have forgiven me. It was what I promised him faithfully to look after as well as his children.’ The charity also helped 152 people who had been hard hit by the war, such as stockbrokers’ clerks, to pay their dog licences.

I haven't read the other 850 pages of references to the NCDL in The Times archive, but you can bet that they campaigned over many issues to improve dogs' lives.

GO ON HAVE A VOTE! www.sharethejoy.co.uk (but I won't hold you to The Dogs Trust though, because all of the charities do their own sterling work.)

Pets Galore!

Strange forces have colluded to ensure that my next post is about 'Pets'.

I was asked early this year, by an editor at a very well-known publisher, to come up with a synopsis for 'A History of Pets' - the brief was to 'entertain and surprise' the reader... I duly wrote (and re-wrote) a synopsis, but all to no avail: '...ultimately our visions of the book are just too different,' was the rejection.

But I'm going to give you a flavour of the synopsis in honour of this blog being nominated today for a 'Pets At Home' Pawfection Blog Award. Historically, the selling of pets to the public was, I think, full of entertainment and surprises... but you be the judge.

The opportunity to supply pets obviously grew to meet demand. The first pet-sellers (probably in Tudor times) were those on the street and in the markets: the men with puppies in their pockets and dogs on leads at their feet and bird-dealers who sold native birds caught by professional bird-catchers. Exotics, such as parrots and monkeys, would also be for sale having been imported by traders keen to exploit new-found lands. Some pet/animal dealers (often calling themselves ‘naturalists’) would have established themselves with shops to house their merchandise: a notice in the Morning Herald and Daily Advertiser for 1783 advertised the sale of companion animals, from monkeys to dogs (no cats, though). The company, Martins, was obviously some sort of pet dealer and would have been stuffed full of pets in all sorts of cages and boxes – chaos, probably. The premises of Jamrachs, the London exotics dealer, was full of imported birds, Chinese and Japanese dogs and all manner of wild animals destined for people’s homes, e.g. Rossetti’s pet wombat, ‘Top’.

While there were responsible salesmen, many unsuspecting owners were duped into purchasing their pets through ignorance or by con artists. During the summer months, Kennedy’s (seedsman) in Covent Garden market was the place to find animals to keep in the garden – it would have been stuffed full of tortoises for sale, brought from abroad in large numbers and sold cheaply, because they were recommended (to ladies especially) as being useful for keeping down slugs in the garden – tortoises are vegetarians! Pet dealers were also likely to use other ruses to sell their animals: the Illustrated London News showed how terrier fanciers would secretly let rats into a house and then offer the lady of the house a dog and also blacken up a white dog with the leftover scrapings of a frying pan if potential owners were looking for fashionable black and white spaniel puppies.
 

Street sellers were also known for selling on stolen valuable dogs (and later cats), especially Club Row pet market in the East End of London on Sunday mornings (above) – ‘The Port of Missing Pets’ it was nicknamed in 1909. Thieving was a well-established practice and generally two stealers would work together and have aprons tied around their waists. The dog would be caught up at the corner of one street and concealed in the apron and then they would run before the owner suspected the loss. Often these thieves would be in league with dog-dealers or dog-finders; the former would ask the thieves to steal back valuable animals he’d sold to re-sell or, the latter, would approach the stolen dog’s owners to return the dog for a large reward!  These wheezes reached such epidemic proportions that in 1845 a Dog-Stealing Bill went before the House of Commons…‘No man’s dog is safe a moment – and the more valuable it is, the more certain it is to be stolen,’ explained Henry Liddell MP.

The pet trade also created ‘fashionable’ pets – as today, with ‘sea monkeys’ (shrimps) which are bought as dried eggs and hatch when put into water. Two examples in London from the late 1890s were small live tortoises with their carapaces covered with jewels (shipped from Paris) and also beautiful little green lizards (the Anolis) which were brought over from the Chicago exhibition – both these ornamental animals were tethered to their lady owners by a slender gold chain.

 

The rest of the synopsis looked at: the main animal companions (dogs, cats, tamed 'wild' animals, 'furries'), the pet industry (breeding/selling/thieving), 'fancy' pets (show animals), the burgeoning pet care industry, bodily health of pets (rise of vets), mental health of pets (training and containment), problem owners (cruelty), the 'Anti-Pet Lobby', the death of a pet and the future of pet-keeping.

But all is not lost - my new book Beastly London will be published next year and there's a whole chapter on the history of pets and strays in London - hooray!

Dog Food: Dog's Meat Man to Specialist Diets

Following post is written by Guest Blogger Matthew Stanley (with a few additions by Hannah):

When it comes to food, dogs are just like us. They have their own preferences, likes and dislikes and they are not afraid to make it known! Many dog owners are happy to tailor their dog’s diet to suit its needs, whether it is a special type of biscuit or a certain brand of meaty chunks. Or, increasingly, owners suit themselves and feed their companions whatever they have to hand - roast dinners, chips, biscuits, etc - creating obsese dogs with severe health problems.

Before the days of nutirition and specialist dog diets, gentlemen's sporting dogs were fed on meat and meal, with a 'sporting bakers' in Regent Street supplying additional biscuits made of wheat and oat flour to keep the dogs in top condition for the sporting field. Other lucky dogs enjoyed ‘Jupp’s Dog Biscuits’ in 1861: varieties included, ‘Compressed American Beef Greaves’, ‘Chicken Rice Sweepings’ and ‘Rice Meal’.

But most dogs were fed on bread crusts and scraps from the dinner table, or, if they were strays, they had to be content with hunting through piles of street rubbish for scraps. There was a character known as the 'dogs' meat man' who would ply his trade around the residential streets, with a barrow full of horsemeat and diseased meat to sell. This meat would be weighed out on some scales and boiled down by the owners. Edwin Landseer's painting 'Jack in Office' (below) show a well-fed mastiff type sitting atop his owner's barrow keeping guard while a pack of starving dogs look for an opportunity to make off with any scraps.

 

These stray dogs were the inspiration for an Amerian electrician by the name of James Spratt who travelled to London in 1860. Upon his arrival he noticed that the docklands were full of hungry dogs searching for discarded scraps of food. Spratt had a ‘light bulb moment’ and quickly took to creating the first 'complete' dog biscuit, made of wheat meals, beetroot, beef blood and vegetables - sold as 'Meat Fibrine' (what a career change for an electrician?!). Spratt’s was registered in England in 1885 as the first pet food supplier, eventually moving to New York in 1895 and staying at the top of the pet food industry for 50 years (the beautiful packaging must have helped sales).

Fast forward to 1930 and the pet food industry was in full swing. The Gaines Food Company brought out the first dry dog meat meal, selling their wares from a travelling wagon. After the First World War, P.M Chappell started canning his own unique blend of dog food, created using surplus horsemeat which led to an increase in this convenient food source. Canned food was extremely popular during the 30s, however the subsequent tin shortage in 1946 pushed dry dog food back to the top spot.

In the 1950s ‘kibble’ was born, known at the time as ‘dog chow’. This food was made by grinding meat meal, grains and vegetables together and steaming it at high temperatures. The mixture was then pushed through a machine to create identical shapes and sprayed with oils, vitamins and flavours to make it appealing for dogs. Kibble was (and still is) a huge success however the introduction of artificial ingredients led to many dogs developing canine allergies and skin problems.

Today the average dog owner is spoilt for choice with plenty of top name brands offering everything you need to give your dog a balanced, healthy lifestyle. Tailored diet dog food plans have become especially popular with companies offering specially formulated food to suit each different canine lifestage and breed.  Common canine medical problems such as canine obesity, joint and heart problems can now be addressed with specific diet combinations, making it easier than ever to give your dog a long, happy life.

With so much choice available, it is a great time to be a dog owner and an even better time to be a dog! With the right research you can ensure that your dog receives the diet that it needs and the high, quality ingredients that will keep them coming back for more.