Sir John Henry ‘Jock’ Delves Broughton, the 11th Baronet of Doddington and Lady Delves Broughton, pictured in 1939, were among the high society animal collectors of their day
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Serpents, too, had their devotee. In 1905, the Hon Mrs Arthur Cadogan appeared in The Bystander under the title ‘The Latest Cult – Strange Pets’, with her Indian python, Genesis, draped around her person. Mrs Cadogan’s fondness for curious pets was memorialised with an extraordinary monument in Datchet Cemetery featuring Genesis coiled around a column, guarding his mistress for eternity. Her pet lemur, Angy, is carved into a plaque at the grave’s base.
By the inter-war years, a ring-tailed lemur was the fashionable accessory. The most (in)famous was Mah-Jongg, who belonged to Stephen and Virginia Courtauld. ‘Jongy’ accompanied the couple everywhere; he could even be found reclining in his own deckchair on board their yacht. When the Courtaulds held a farewell lunch for the British Arctic Air Route Expedition on board,
Jongy disgraced himself by biting the expedition’s wireless operator so badly that the poor man’s artery was severed. At the family home, Elcham Palace, Jongy had a bamboo pole up to his specially heated retreat, and artist Gertrude Whinfield painted the walls with tropical plants to remind him of his Madagascan roots. Visit Eltham Palace today and Mah-Jongg is immortalised, carved into a timber boss of the Great Hall’s ceiling.
Of course, like most eccentric fashions, the keeping of exotic pets eventually slipped out of vogue – with animal rights activists no doubt hastening its decline. And realistically, in 2026, a marmoset would cause more than a ripple on the dancefloor at Loulou’s. Still, fashions are fickle: one suspects that a surfeit of dachshunds in Notting Hill may yet fall from favour too: to be replaced, perhaps, by creatures more unique. Stranger things have happened.
This feature first appeared in the April 2026 issue of Tatler.