From the "History of Strood" by Henry Smetham, published 1899.

Everyone must have noticed in public house signs a curious combination of two in incongruous objects, as the "Swan and Horse Shoe," the "Plough and Anchor," &c. These were not bestowed without a reason. Originally each sign was a single object, as the "Lion," the "Star," the "Mitre," &c. Nowadays, when a landlord moves to a new house, he keeps the sign, say the "Compasses," and announces that he is from say, the "Duke of Wellington," at such and such an address. It was not so in former days; when a host move, say from the "Swan" to the "Horse Shoe," he would tack his old sign onto the new one, which would henceforth appear as the "Swan and Horse Shoe." This is shown by several old advertisement.

Thomas Blackhall and Francis Ives, Mercers, (dealer in textile fabrics) are removed from the "Seven Stars" on Ludgate Hill, to the "Black Lion and Seven Stars" over the way.

Benjamin Ingram, Mercer, is removed from the "George" unto the next house, at the sign of the "Naked Boy and George" in Ludgate Street, where he continues selling all sorts of mercenary goods at reasonable prices.

These instances shew, in addition, at other tradesmen besides publicans had signs; in fact, before numbers were used, every shop had a sign.

PUBLIC HOUSE NAMES OF KENT.

Public houses have always been a comforting sight to me. It’s always been very reassuring after a long walk, ride or drive to return home to find in the distance a welcoming public house with a light in the window beckoning you in for some refreshment, whether or not you actually enter and partake in their wares. To think many of these houses have been offering rest, shelter and refreshment to weary travellers, often as far back as 300 years, and to imagine that my father, grand-father or great-grandfather may have used these same establishments gives you that great reassuring sense of stability.

Whether it’s the Red Lion, the White Hart, the King’s Arms, etc. each one has its own name and history, but why was it given that name in the first place? This has always fascinated me and so I decided to do a little research into the pubs of Kent to discover why they had been given their specific names.

The 1830 beer act allowed anyone to open up their own house for an annual licensing fee, usually in their front room for the selling and often the brewing of beer, at the same time the licensee would probably have already had another trade along with running his pub. So, perhaps a Wheelwright would name his house the Wheelwright’s Arms or a Carpenter the Carpenter’s Arms etc.

Pre-dating 1830 of course the Red Lion, which was and still is the most prolific name for a pub in England was given to some pubs as a sign to show its allegiance to King James I. When he came to the thrown in 1603, he ordered that his heraldic symbol of a Red Lion be attached to every building of importance, and this included the inns and coaching houses of the time. Even further back the White Hart being the personal badge of Richard II in the mid 1300’s, was also used to show that a person had allegiance to the King. Due to the popularity of such, often towns and villages had more than one pub with the same name which to anyone trying to separate them for research is a nightmare and can become very confusing.

The village of Hearn once had two Red Lion’s almost next to each other, but decided to differentiate them by calling them the Upper Red Lion and the Lower Red Lion, both unfortunately closed today, the Lower Red Lion having closed its doors 100 years ago in November 1919 and the Upper Red Lion in March 2011. There was only one building between them as well when they were both open and plying for trade together. I think this could well be a good excuse for anyone saying they would meet at the Red Lion to actually visit the pair of them.

With so many Red Lions about, as stated above, and the confusion caused, over time some decided to change their name to something totally different and so these pubs gained their own individual identity.

Some pubs, in my opinion have rather strange names and at first I believed that they were just made up using the following format. The first word being an animal with one syllable and then following on an apparently random inanimate object, for instance the Pig and Whistle of which I know several that existed in Kent or the Goat and Compass, both apparently random names. Then there is the Cat and Trencher at Faversham, the Cat and Cracker on the Isle of Grain, the Frog and Radiator at Greenwich, the Frog and Orange at Shattering, the Frog and Bucket at Ide Hill, the Frog and Nightgown at Deptford, (lots of frogs being involved for some reason) and of course as the song goes, the Old Bull and Bush.

However, I decided to look into these strange pub names with an animal and inanimate object as their name a little deeper, to see if I could work out just why someone would give them a name with this format. Some of the names, I found, were not as random as they at first appear to be. I will first look at the name the Bull and Bush.

This actually goes back to what was probably the origin of signs that appeared outside pubs, mainly for those who could not read, and comes from the Romans (shades of Monty Pythons Life of Brian and “what did the Roman’s do for us?”), as in the Rome wine bars back in their country they used hang bunches of vine leaves outside their premises to advertise the fact that they sold wine, and this tradition travelled to Britain when the Romans invaded us just over 2000 years ago. However, Britain at that time was not recognised for its growing of grape vines and they were hard to come by, so instead they hung up other foliage such as bushes to identify themselves, and the pub name the Bull and Bush came about. The only one I know of in Kent however was found in Riverhead and was only functioning in the 1700s. Although many others are found throughout the country and Florrie Forde made it popular in an early 20th century music hall song and this became the theme tune to that popular TV programme, “The Good Old Days.” So the formation of that name was not quite as random as I first thought.

I mentioned the Pig and Whistle as well, and have reference to Kent pubs with that name, one at East Peckham as early as 1736, another at Tilmanstone, this one open at the end of the 19th century, another at Hollingbourne in 1881, and one found at Reculver in 1883, there was one at Shoreham around the 1890s and another at Chainhurst that had changed name to this from the Royal Oak in 1980 but has now unfortunately closed, the latest though being at Grafty Green, unfortunately closing in 2010. But why the name? Well, as you can see this name does go back to the early 18th century but the derivation of this name is uncertain. Was it just using this random format of a one syllable animal followed an inanimate object or could the Pig be a retraction of “piggin” meaning a wooden drinking vessel or ladle, and perhaps the word “Whistle” really a corruption of the drinking word Wassail, a beverage of hot mulled cider. I think this true meaning has been lost through time.

The Goat and Compass though I’ll not go into, as I have found none with that name in Kent at all.

The Cat and Custard Pot of Paddlesworth has a very interesting story attached to it, and certainly is not made using the above mentioned format. This was another one of those popular pubs that was originally called the Red Lion and can be traced back to 1791 for definite, possibly even older. However, around 1972 the name was officially given the Cat and Custard Pot. Due to the feline focus, as far back as anyone can remember the pub was locally known as “The Cat” then one day it was decided that the old sign depicting of course a Red Lion needed a bit of renovation and a challenge was thrown out to any local who was willing and able to repaint it to give it back its vibrant colours (for a few free pints of course). One volunteer came forward and using the paint he had at home repainted the old sign and depicted the original lion as a fierce beast with whiskers, pricked ears and what was described as “boiling eyes.” I believe the paint used was Red Lead, which does take a little longer to dry than ordinary paints, and unfortunately being heavier than your normal paint is prone to run a little as well. The result, so locals say was that the final sign resembled a local ginger Tom that had fallen into a custard pot, and hence the origin of that new name.

The Cat and Cracker also has a name that isn’t quite as random as I first believed. This is situated on the Isle of Grain and was originally known as the Cock Inn and can be traced as far back as 1780. However, the Isle of Grain today is a place where they process crude oil, and have a procedure to gain these valuable fuels out of the crude a technique that uses something termed a “Catalytic Cracker,” which will process the oil into more valuable gasoline, hence the reason for the pub name, the Cat a shortened “Catalyst” and Cracker of course the “cracker.” Again, not as random as I thought and quite simple when you know what goes on in the area.

Mind you, some of the others mentioned above do seem to have no logical reason why they have that name. At least none that I have found to date. The Frog and Orange at Shatterling for instance only gained this name in June 1996 and was formerly called the Green Man and was built in 1728. To date I have no idea why the name was changed to this and believe they just used that format of single syllable animal and inanimate object to create the name as is still used today. The Frog and Radiator in Greenwich, only having that random name around 2004, previously being the Ship and Billet and afterwards to the Duchess of Greenwich. This is another with no logic as I can see; I think it proves my point as it only seemed to have that name of the Frog and Radiator for a year, possibly less. Also the Cat and Trencher of Faversham, although I have only found reference to the pub in the 1800s when it was demolished, I will add that a trencher is an old type of wooden plate on which food was served, but it still seems pretty random to me.

Of course some houses change name for other reasons and the Red Cross of Sidcup is one whose cause for change is quite extraordinary. It was literally forced to change name in 1935 by the authorities as evidently it contravened the Geneva Convention. At that time the only thing that was allowed to display a Red Cross was the medical profession. Traced back as far as 1729 for definite when it was titled “Ye Brandy House and Ale House” it changed name to the Red Cross around about 1743 after licensee William Jones moved away and another licensee took over, it was probably changed by that incoming licensee whose name I unfortunately do not know at present, and he used the symbol of the flag of St. George, which was a simple Red Cross. All went well under this name till 1935 when the pub was instructed to discontinue using that name by the authorities as it was ruled they were contravening the Geneva Convention. To overcome the problem they simply changed the colour of the cross to white and the sign and name was changed to depict the White Maltese Cross, the sign of the Knights Hospitallers. The pub is still open under that name the White Cross today.

Some pub names however, don’t really seem to appeal to me that much. Dover used to have a pub called the Raw Material which later became the Recruiting Sergeant. I don’t think I’d like to be classed simply as Raw Material to be Recruited into the forces. I only know about these two names being open in 1862 and 1863, and a Thomas Cattermole being the licensee then. I believe he was a retired Sergeant Major and I can just imagine what the atmosphere was like inside. No wonder it didn’t appear to last long.

I have seen several pubs named the Coffin and I’m not sure what sort of atmosphere that establishment would have had either (I would have thought petty dead actually,) and don’t know how popular they would have been, but I know of none today that have survived with that name still attached. Of those pubs called the Coffin one was reputed to have been situated in Meopham Green and was said to have been built just in front of the Price of Wales pub and was serving beers in the mid 19th century. Another with the same name was to be found in Dartford, the exact position unfortunately unknown, but it was mentioned in the Alehouse Keepers Recognizences of 1707. I suppose that as pubs had cold cellars to help keep the beer turning sour, they were very often used as a temporary resting place for locals who had died, awaiting the coroners reports that usually took place in the rooms of the pub above, and of course after the report finally being released for burial, the name of coffin was quite apt. But out of these, the one I like the best is another from Maidstone. This was originally given the title of “Cradle and Coffin” it was addressed at 40 Bower Place and was built in 1835 as a beer shop, however, I don’t think it was very popular at the time due to the name so licensee Thomas Holoway changed it some time in the 1840s to the “First and Last.” Not much a change from being born (first) and the final departure, (Coffin – Last) and a clever change of name whilst still retaining its original theme I think. It is still open today under the name First and Last, but I wonder how many people know its previous name?

Along the Tenterden Road in Biddenden till November 2018 there used to be a pub with the name of Castleton’s Oak. This also has connections to coffins, and the sign which still hung outside the open pub in 2011, depicted an old gentleman sitting on a coffin. Unfortunately the building was demolished in November 2018, and I expect that gentleman is now spinning in his grave. I have only traced the pub back to 1864 at present, but believe it is certainly a lot older. I don’t yet have a licensee list, and don’t know whether the pub actually changed name at any time, but the reason today for the sign mentions an old gentleman called Ebenezer Castleton. I suppose he could well have been one of the licensees and if so, the pub probably wouldn’t have been called Castleton’s Oak originally, although perhaps it could have been just the Oak. Anyway, Ebenezer was a carpenter by trade, so perhaps the pub once had the name of the Carpenter’s Arms, but I have no evidence of any of that at present, just the name Castleton’s Oak. However, in his 70th year and thinking he was getting near to the end of his life, he came across a fallen oak tree that had come down in a storm, I suppose he was probably employed to help remove it. With the wood collected he decided to make his own coffin. What he didn’t realise was that he was going to live for another 30 years and so had it stored in his home awaiting for that grim day to arrive. After his death I suppose someone decided to immortalise him by calling the pub by that name.

Dover used to have an old inn originally called the Albion and later the Carpenter’s Arms, or perhaps Blacksmith’s Arms (there is a little confusion over pubs in the same area) but when it was eventually closed and unfortunately demolished in March 1969 to make way for the new York Street, it was known as the Cause is Altered. York Street actually missed the footings of the pub by several feet, so really there was no reason why the pub should have been demolished, but that’s all history now. According to Bavington-Jones the editor of the Dover Express in the 1900s, he infers that licensee John Bourne changed the name to the Cause is Altered when he took over the pub in 1840. The reason given for the change of name I am afraid is also lost in urban myth but locals do give a variety of reasons why it was changed, but before I go through the theory of name change I need to tell you a little bit about the history of the pub. The pub can be traced back to the 1500s and stood just inside the town wall at Cow Gate, this was a toll gate. The gate was removed in 1776 and until that date was where any traders entering the town would have to pay their toll in order to enter the town. The pub was also said to be the haunt of smugglers. So far I have come across no less than four theories as to why the name changed. One states that it has something to do with the Cavaliers and Roundheads and when one type of clientele was replaced by the other as times changed, so their Cause had Altered, but this would have had to have happened long before I believe the change of name officially took place. The second theory states Bavington-Jones, that when John Bourne came to be licensee of the pub, he was not a friend of the smugglers and wanted to make sure that they did not frequent his pub, so to make it clear they were not welcome renamed the pub the Cause is Altered. My research shows it to have gone under this name as early as 1832 when under the rule of previous licensee Andrew Watts, so predating Bavington-Jones’ theory, but that’s by the by, it could have been licensee Watt’s that didn’t like the smugglers. A third theory says that it probably had something to do with the local dialect and the fact that as not everyone could read in the early days. Anyone who wanted to indicate where the pub was would probably have described it in Cow Lane as the place where the “Cows is Halted” before paying their toll to get through the Town Gate and over time this was misheard as the “Cause is Altered” a little like Chinese Whispers really. A fourth theory is that it is a literal translation from Spanish, as at the time a lot of Wellington’s soldiers would have come back from the Peninsula war around 1817 and would have picked up some Spanish phrases. The pub being as far up a hill as you could get before you passed through the town wall, it could have been described as “the house on high” or in Spanish “La casa de alta.” Quite a tenuous link, I know, but still one that has been doing the rounds for a reason as to why the name was changed. I am sorry to say that the jury is still out on this one and I’ll leave you to decide which you think is the most likely reason.

Also close to Dover in a village called Waldershare is a pub, again unfortunately no longer with us, that was known as the “High and Dry.” In fact it was known by the locals as the High and Dry for many years before it finally gained that name officially in 1974. The pub started out as the “Lord Rockingham’s Arms” as far back as 1740. Around 1790 it changed name to the “Guildford Arms” as being close to Lord Guildfords estate, it probably changed at the same time as Lord Guildford took over from his predecessor. He probably owned the land it was on anyway. By 1869 it had become the Royal George, probably in honour of the birth of King George V who was born in 1865. Again the naming of this pub is shrouded in folk law and I have heard many theories as to why it gained the name the High and Dry. One theory stating that one Christmas when the road was cut off due to snow, the clientele drank the pub dry as no new deliveries could be made. A second similar theory says that it was drunk dry by a group of Yankie Soldiers who were celebrating D-Day in 1945. A third theory goes back to the fact that it is situated on a piece of land that is slightly higher than the rest of the land, and the local farming fraternity refer to that part of land as being High and Dry as it tends to remain dry after rain due to its drainage properties, it being located on chalk. A fourth theory originates from the local miners who mine coal seams underneath the building from the now closed Tilmanstone colliery. Again there are two theories for this and although both seem to verbally conflict with each other they are very similar in story and could explain the name. One theory says that one of the working seams situated in the mine tunnels under the pub was called the Low and Wet as it often got flooded, and so the pub above was known as the High and Dry. The conflicting theory says that this seam under the pub is the only one that doesn’t get flooded and is also known as the High and Dry, the semantics of those two mining stories being diametrically opposed, but the end result is certainly plausible. I have heard both the above mining stories from different people and so think there is a certain amount of truth regarding the name, but cannot decide which one is true. My favourite theory though is this one and seems logical to me, although this would have derived from the moment the pub was built, but folk law does have a habit of starting many years before it is finally made official. It is stated that when the pub was originally built the timbers used were taken from a shipwreck that occurred just off the nearby coast below the white cliffs of Dover, probably at Kingston. Thus when built, the ship would now be in its finally resting place and truly being High and Dry above the water line. Whatever the reason, unfortunately this one again remains in true folk law and has been lost in time. I will leave you again to make your own decision as to which is the most likely.

Another rather strange name for what appears to be a public house is the Mug and Meeple at Gravesend. This was previously called the Middle Ei8ht (yes, the spelling was unconventional as well) but changed name in 2016. I think the footprint of this pub can be traced back to 1445 when there was a pub on the site called the Christopher, but this was demolished in 1828 and a new building erected in its place and was called the Pier. It continued under this name till 1985 when it changed to the Middle Ei8ht. Then in August 2016 it changed name to this rather peculiar name of the Mug and Meeple, although there was talk beforehand that suggested the name Swords and Saucery, but this never happened. Although looking like a public house today and having a sign that would suggest the above, it doesn’t actually hold an alcohol license and is really a gamer café where people can play boards games and have non alcoholic refreshment at the same time. A Meeple, of course, as if I needed to tell you is a small plastic or wooden character having a stylised human form used in such gaming. Hence the name, which is quite logical really, once you know the background.

Rusthall had a pub in the 1970s to the end of that century that apparently upset a few folk who I assumed lived in ear shot of the Bow Bells, it was originally called the Morning Star and can be traced back to 1860. However, in the 1970s a new landlord decided that he would change the name to the Brahms and Liszt. As I previously said that caused a bit of a ruckus with some folk who said it was not an appropriate name for a public house and was quite course. However, I can remember a news report saying that the licensee at the time of change couldn’t see what all the fuss was about as both Brahms and Liszt were very respectable and accomplished pianists, and with a glint in his eye asked what were other people suggesting?

One last pub name that I really must mention is the Duke without a Head, situated in Waterinbury. This was actually built and opened on 16th December 1940, unfortunately demolished 50 years later in 1990. This pub was actually built to replace an older one, called the Duke’s Head, and at the Magistrates Court when the old license was being transferred, the Magistrate was heard to say, referring to the old license of course, “The Duke’s Head has been removed” meaning that alcoholic beverage could no longer be served there, and so on transferring the licence to the new build, the pub was given the name of the Duke Without a Head.

You just can’t make it up, can you. Although to finally finish, and to give you a little bit of fun yourself I’ll leave all the readers to play this game with me. If you were to go into the pub trade, and wanted to give your pub a unique name, following the format of single syllable animal and inanimate object, just what strange pub names can you come up with. Here are a few of mine, that I am pretty certain don’t yet exist. The Ox and Lemon Squeezer, The Rat and Reliant Robin, The Bear and Spinning Top, or The Bird and Pantyhose. Wonder what the sign for that last one would look like? Talking of signs though one pub that does exist and that doesn’t currently have a sign that I know of is the Hampton Inn at Hearn. Anyone care to design a pub sign for that one?

Paul Skelton.