There are few things in history that capture the imagination more than a famous goat.
On this blog, we could talk about beautiful architectural sketches of lost buildings, the pedigree of famous families, genealogical gems, magical maps, delicious diaries and everything in between. The archives are an Aladdin’s cave of wonderful things, but none of them touch the heart or stir the soul quite like a good story about a goat. You can visualise, in grainy black and white, the proud mammal standing atop the windswept crags, grazing majestically on the coarse heather, or charging down unsuspecting pedestrians on a busy Halifax street and absolutely demolishing them like a wrecking ball. That is what happened in the late 1830’s and early 1840’s.
The Waggoners Inn is listed at 13-15 Northgate, and it stood on what would have been the junction of Wade Street and Northgate – approximately adjacent to Trinity College where the bus station concourse is, for those familiar with Halifax. We have several documents relating to the Waggoners, including an 1832 lease between Richard Wroe and Isaac Smith, innkeeper [MISC:484/14]. By the 1850’s, Smith must have owned the Waggoners as there is a whole bundle of correspondence, a deed and survey of his property, including the Inn [DC:1275], and documents relating to a mortgage from the famous and fabulously wealthy Crossley family [WYC:1529/5/1/2] for £3000.
It is no surprise the Waggoners demanded such a price. It was a bustling centre of commerce and one of the town’s main coaching inns. In addition to this, its upper floors were tenanted out, and the cellars at street level housed a cooper, blacksmith, clothes dealer, and Nancy Turner selling parkin pigs and pot birds. However, it is not Nancy’s parkin pigs that we are interested in but Isaac Smith’s pet goat.
Joseph Rideal Smith, a local artist, was born in the Waggoner’s Inn in 1837. He was the son of Isaac, above mentioned landlord and part-time goatherd. In 1893 he published a postcard of the inn as it may be seen circa 1837. The details are incredible – you can see the whole frontage of the pub, with the high-flyer tearing down Northgate. Perhaps most prominently, in the foreground, there are two boys and a dog, baiting what appears to be a reasonably large goat.
Joseph Smith illustrated the waggoners twice – the one you see above as the pub would have been in the year of his birth 1837 and again, in a larger format which he positioned as circa 1840, three years later. This copy is held in Calderdale Libraries and features some information about the inn on the back. Tragically, it sheds further light on the goat, stating that “the one kept by Mr. Smith was an exceptionally big one, and will, no doubt, be remembered by many on account of its mirthful habits; although docile and full of pranks to begin with, and allowed to roam at large, it gradually grew vicious from repeated teasing until it became a terror… “
So terrible was the goat’s behaviour that Isaac Smith was forced to sell it to Wombwell’s Menagerie. Now a whole blog could be written on Wombwell’s Travelling Menagerie, his interactions with royalty and the exotic animals the collection boasted but the important take-away here is that Isaac Smith’s goat was so unusually large and aggressive that it was purchased by a famous Victorian travelling exhibition and displayed as a freakshow.
While the goat left its impact on the thighs and hips of the good folk of Halifax, it also left its impact on Joseph Rideal Smith’s heart because not only does it appear in his first image of the Waggoner’s Inn, but if you look very closely at the second picture, into the yard at the rear, it looks like you can just about see… …a goat?
Our second goat is known less for being an absolute menace but instead is recognised for being a fine example of what it means to be a goat.
Buried deep in the Rawson collection is WYC:1525/6/21/4, an item catalogued only as “Goat Registration Cards”. Within this small envelope is a rabbit-hole so deep as to rival Alice’s journey through Wonderland. John Selwyn Rawson owned at least 7 named goats which, in 1890, were entered into the first volume of the Herd Book of the British Goat Society. The British Goat Society is a real thing which still exists today. Its patron is Princess Alexandra, cousin of the late Queen Elizabeth II. The British Goat Society was originally founded in 1879, although according to the website a movement toward a goat-based-society had been brewing as early as 1874 when H.S. Holmes-Peglar published “Book of the Goat”. He was called to judge the first goat-show, held at Crystal Palace and by the time of its formation, Holmes-Peglar had, through his boundless enthusiasm for goats, become the first president of the newly formed British Goat Society. It is Holmes-Peglar’s signature on John Selwyn’s goat registration cards, declaring their admission into the Herd Book, which records the pedigree of famous goats.
Admission into the Herd Book is not a given, so John Selwyn must have presented some fine specimens. From the British Goat Society website, we can read:
“Goats are eligible for Entry in the Herd book when they comply with any one or more of the following conditions:-
1. When both SIRE and DAM are entered in the Herd Book.
2. When the SIRE or DAM is entered in the Herd Book and the other parent is in the PRIZE RECORD or (in the case of the Sire) in the STUD GOAT REGISTER.
3. When the goat itself and either its Sire or Dam are in the Prize Record.
4. When the GOAT ITSELF is in the PRIZE RECORD, and its Sire has been accepted on the STUD GOAT REGISTER.
5. When the GOAT ITSELF is in the PRIZE RECORD and at least TWO OF ITS ANCESTORS (one one the side of the dam and the other on the side of the sire) are also in the Prize Record.”
One of John’s goats was adorably called Fenella. John Selwyn had three sons, and his eldest, Frederick Philip Selwyn Rawson was born in 1891, just a year after Fenella made it into the Herd Book. We can imagine his childhood, growing up and playing with the goats. Perhaps it is a mere coincidence that Frederick Rawson decided to name his only daughter Ann Fenella, born in 1921. There is nothing that conclusively proves Frederick was honouring his childhood goat-friend, but likewise there is nothing that conclusively proves that he wasn’t.
Catablogue 