Natator #4: Diving off London Bridge April 3, 2015
Author: Beach Combing | in : Modern , trackback
From Natator’s defeat to the churlish Fish Man in the spring of 1871 it was all down hill, and the slope was steep and full of briars and stones: some readers might want to spare themselves the unhappy denoument and click away at this point.
OK, well you’ve been warned. In June 1871, doubtless desperate to best Jefferson and bring back honour to the frog brand Natator sent out leaflets announcing that he would do something very strange, namely jump from London Bridge:
Leap from London Bridge.—Public Notice.— Natator, the Man Frog, late of the Cirque Napoleon, Paris, Cremorne Gardens, Ac., will leap from London Bridge, centre arch, precisely at 4 p.m., on Wednesday, June 14, 1871. He will arrive the exact moment, and trusts the public will in no way cause obstruction to the constituted authorities. Boats will available from every pier, and should anyone have the misfortune to fall into the water, Natator will be happy to rescue him [love this]. N.B.—Boats will please keep clear of the central arch during the descent of the diver.
This being London in the nineteenth century, a city where people were bored enough to riot over ghosts ‘several thousand of people’ turned out. But when Natator arrived he was promptly arrest for attempted suicide, one of the stupider acts of Her Majesty’s Constabulary. The crowd had far more sense and refused to let the police and Natator through without seeing his death fall, but in the end the forces of order triumphed and a Victor Natator (not Cooper?), ‘Professional Swimmer’ of 81 High Holborn was taken to the cells. He was subsequently fined twenty pounds by a spoil-sport judge, a certain Alderman Lusk, whose name will live on in the annals of infamy.
By July 1871 it was all over. A small advert in The Era marked Natator’s doom: ‘the hero [!] of London Bridge and the original man frog’ was, the ad claimed, ‘a sure proof of success’. But the ad was a request from Natator’s agent to hire him out: he was no longer the marvel of the age receiving requests from all quarters. Instead, Frederick Abrams assured the reader: ‘Natator’s New Crystal Aquarium is a model of elegance, perfectly water tight [surely redundant?!], and can be fitted up in a drawing room.’ [Our italics] In a drawing room! One of the legends of London spectacle had been reduced to smoking under water before the Duke of Rutland and some drunk friends. In a drawing room! A man who had once bestrode the watery wastes like a titan was about to be flushed down into the sewers of London’s memory. The last notice Beach has been able to find of Natator the Frog Man is from February 1872 when he appears as a witness for the defence in a case of anti-semitic slander… Damn London! Damn fame! Damn all human vanity!
Our Natator story is now at an end: can anyone add more? drbeachcombing AT yahoo DOT com
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