Meet the cat who’s happy to follow Churchill’s orders
Laura Silverman gets to know Jock VII, the latest in a long line of marmalade moggies to call Chartwell home
hen the National Trust opened Chartwell, Churchill’s home, in 1966, the family had one request: they would always keep a marmalade cat called Jock “in comfortable residence”. Jock was Sir Winston’s cat when he died in 1965. Reports say the cat snuck into his bedroom, jumped into his coffin, stole a look at his face and scarpered, never to enter the room again. They had been together for just over two years: the cat had been given to him by “Jock” Colville, his private secretary, for his 88th birthday. Churchill would only begin eating when Jock was at the table and would take him everywhere, including his grandson’s wedding, where he sat on his master’s lap.
Jock lived with Sir Winston and Lady Churchill at Chartwell in Kent, their home of 40 years, and was the last of the couple’s panoply of pets. Churchill had long been fond of animals: as a boy, he sold his bicycle for a bulldog called Dodo. Katherine Carter, Chartwell’s house and collections manager, believes pets were “an escape” for him. “His animals were like an extended family.”
Some pets offered stress relief. In 1941, when the war was going badly, Jock Colville had lunch with the prime minister, recalling that while “he was meditating deeply about the Middle East… he kept up a running conversation with the cat [Tango]… expressing regret that it could not have cream in wartime”. Others, like Rufus II, the miniature poodle, were, said Churchill, “my closest confidant”. Several, like Toby the budgerigar, were simply amusing. Lady Soames remembers watching her grandfather coax the budgie into snatching spoons out of salt cellars on the table with his beak. There were also black swans Churchill conversed with in “swan talk” and goats that gnawed at the cherry trees, much to Lady Churchill’s consternation. Rita the Lion, a gift, went to London Zoo, but Churchill did consider keeping kangaroos in the orchard.
Keeping a cat at a historic house is comparatively easy. This summer, Chartwell welcomed Jock VII. Jock lives in a cottage in the grounds with Viktoria Austen, the visitor experience manager. “He was found by the RSPCA with 30 other kittens in squalid conditions,” Austen says with a shudder, “but he was really confident and has been like that from day one.”
Days begin with a prowl around the grounds. Jock was recently found gazing shamelessly into the Golden Orfe pond, one of Churchill’s favourite spots. In later life, Churchill, wearing a stetson and siren suit, would wander there after lunch, tapping his cane on the ground as he approached. After feeding the fish with maggots, he would sink into a wicker chair beside the water in quiet contemplation with a cigar, and whisky and soda. What is Jock contemplating? “He’s probably checking out the orfe. At the moment, they’re almost as big as him, but…” Austen trails off. Staff have also spotted him investigating Lady Clementine’s rose garden and clambering on to the Oscar Nemon statue of Sir Winston and Lady Churchill.
Jock must keep out of Chartwell’s main rooms for damage limitation – some of the drawing room furniture retains marks from Churchill’s original pets – but he is allowed into the groundfloor office, where he enjoys giving cables a light chew. “He is attracted to anything electrical,” says Austen. “Landlines are definitely not safe.” Churchill’s cat Mickey knew about that. The large tabby once dared to play with the phone cable while Churchill was on a call to the Lord Chancellor. “Get off the line, you fool!” cried Churchill, before he realised the mistake he had made. His apology was accepted. “My Mickey came to see me this morning,” Churchill told his valet the next day. “All is forgiven.”
Back at the cottage, Jock has his designated toys, including a Grumpy Cat teaser wand and the “Under-the-Car Cat Proofer”, a stuffed toy staff wave at him to make sure that he won’t get run over. “The number of times he comes back covered in oil,” sighs Austen. He also enjoys shooting up gutters to inspect the roof and play hide-and-seek. “The other day, we couldn’t find him for hours. We were really worried actually. I looked everywhere, I thought we’d lost him.” Two hours later, Jock sauntered out of a wardrobe. If Jock vanishes, Austen reaches for the peanut butter; he can’t resist. But Jock is never away for long. He likes company, particularly after supper, when he lies on the sofa with Molly, Viktoria’s two-year-old Hungarian vizsla, who licks him clean. In Jock’s job, friendliness is key. “He loves people,” says Austen, Jock ruffling her skirt. “He hides under a bush and pounces on them to let them know he’s there.”
The previous Jock had recently been struggling with strangers. Jock VI, who was looked after by Carter in the upstairs apartment of the main house, arrived at Chartwell in 2014. He was, says Carter, “a caring, loving cat”, but was going blind. “Before he began to lose his sight, he used to seek attention wherever he could, parading along the driveway or sunbathing by the front door.” Henry Jarvis, who had just joined the estate, remembers him as “particularly naughty. He knew what he wanted and if it required him to scratch his way to get it, he would.” Staff often had to retrieve him from under Lady Churchill’s bed. “He tended to be better behaved with visitors than us,” adds Jarvis, now senior marketing and communications manager. As Jock VI’s eyesight deteriorated, he was kept inside so that he didn’t wander into the road. When Carter moved to a nearby village, Jock went with her.
Jock V – distinguishable by a white tip on his tail, in addition to the required white bib and white socks – now lives at Chatsworth in Derbyshire, with his owner, Chartwell’s previous house and collections manager Alice Martin. Jock V enjoyed curling up on Churchill’s armchair in his studio. “I think he liked it because he knew he wasn’t supposed to be in there,” recalls Martin. “I often had to tempt him out.” Jock V also loved water and sitting in the sink. Jock IV is remembered as timid, unlike Jock III. “He was very much a hunter,” says Jarvis. “He’d come into the house but would have to be put out pretty quickly – Churchill’s fish tank is in the study and Jock III would make a beeline for it.”
Finally, there was Jock II, who arrived after the first Jock died in 1975. Anxious to protect him, staff would only let him out at night. It would not suit today’s Jock: this cat needs to be out and about, checking on fish and pouncing on people. Those original Churchillian pets would be proud of him.
‘Churchill’s animals were like an extended family’
‘He was found by the RSPCA with 30 other kittens in really squalid conditions’