Statues.qxp_Layout 1 19/07/2021 14:41 Page 1
CITY HISTORY
No stranger to statue toppling Bristol has got form for making a statement with its statues – and the moving of them. Just rewind back to before living memory, says Andrew Swift
O
n the evening of 23 March 1813, after attending a rally outside the Exchange to hear Henry ‘Orator’ Hunt make an impassioned plea for parliamentary reform, a group of men made their way to Portland Square, where they toppled a statue of King George III which had been unveiled to commemorate his golden jubilee three years earlier. Although one of the perpetrators was apprehended and sentenced to 12 months’ imprisonment, the statue was never restored and the matter seems to have quickly been forgotten about.
Instead of destroying [William III] the rioters rebranded it to become an emblem of their cause, with one of them climbing up to plant a cap of liberty on William’s head
Although this was probably Bristol’s most ephemeral statue, others have had equally dramatic careers. Take the statue of William III. When Queen Square was laid siege to during the Reform Riots of 1831, and many of its buildings were destroyed, the authorities probably feared it would suffer a similar fate. Instead of destroying it, however, the rioters rebranded it to become an emblem of their cause, with one of them climbing up to plant a cap of liberty on William’s head. The authorities weren’t prepared to tempt fate a
Samuel Morley shortly before his move from Bristol Bridge
44 THE BRISTOL MAGAZINE
second time, however, and during the Second World War it was entrusted to the care of the Duke of Beaufort at Badminton, only returning to the square in 1948. William got away lightly with only one move. The honour of Bristol’s most peripatetic statue must go to Neptune, first erected over the reservoir of Temple Conduit in Redcliffe in 1723. It was later moved three times to other locations in Redcliffe, before crossing the river and being set up at the head of St Augustine’s Reach in 1949. Fifty years later, when the Centre was pedestrianised, it was moved a little further north. Given all that shifting about, Neptune has survived remarkably well – something that can’t be said about Bristol’s medieval High Cross. The High Cross stood in the heart of the medieval city, at the east end of Corn Street, and featured statues of King John, Henry III, Edward III and Edward IV. In 1663, statues of Henry VI, Elizabeth, James I and Charles I were added, but only 70 years later the High Cross was declared ‘a ruinous and superstitious relic’ and dismantled. Such was the outcry that a crowdfunding campaign was launched, and three years later, in 1736, it was re-erected on College Green. The Dean and Chapter of Bristol Cathedral were clearly unhappy with this arrangement, however, and in 1757 ordered its removal on grounds of public safety, claiming that improvements needed to be made to the area. The stones were moved to the cathedral for safe keeping, but two years later – to pre-empt calls for it to be reinstated once the improvements were complete – they were offered to Henry Hoare, who carted them off to his estate at Stourhead and re-erected them there. A poem published in Felix Farley’s Bristol Journal shortly afterwards summed up the indignation felt by many Bristolians:
Queen Victoria
|
AUGUST 2021
|
NO¯ 201
