![\"\"](\"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/pexels-pixabay-326807-1.jpg\")
<\/a>The role of maintaining the Westminster clock \u2014 better known as Big Ben \u2014 is not only prestigious but also incredibly demanding. Installed in 1859, the iconic clock\u2019s mechanism requires regular maintenance. To ensure perfect timekeeping, the clock\u2019s keepers even devised a clever trick: old penny coins are placed on the pendulum, each one adjusting the time by 0.4 seconds depending on its weight.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
During the Second World War, the clock continued to function despite bombings. It was protected with sandbags and kept in working order even after the tower dome was damaged. While parts of the process are now automated, the role still exists today, with workers manually checking each gear. In their hands rests the accuracy of perhaps the most famous clock in the world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Royal Rat-Catcher<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/jack_black-1.jpg\")
<\/a>Mayhew, H.. Mayhew, H, Wikimedia <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nSome professions that once existed in Britain sound like they came straight out of a fantasy novel. In times when sanitation was poor and antibiotics nonexistent, rats posed a serious threat, spreading diseases like plague and typhus. That\u2019s why, particularly in 19th-century London, entire teams of rat-catchers were employed \u2014 even by the royal court. The most famous among them was Jack Black, Queen Victoria\u2019s official royal rat-catcher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jack wore an eccentric, colourful uniform complete with a belt adorned with rat motifs and travelled the streets with rat-hunting dogs. He also experimented \u2014 less successfully \u2014 with using ferrets, badgers, monkeys, and raccoons. Beyond catching rats, Jack bred white and spotted “fancy rats” and gifted them to aristocratic ladies. Even Queen Victoria had a pet rat, thanks to Jack \u2014 sparking the British craze for domestic rats.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Garden Hermit<\/strong><\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/ziereremit_in_flottbeck_bei_hamburg-1-1024x766.jpg\")
<\/a>Johann Baptist Theobald Schmitt: Eremit in Flotbeck\/Wikimedia<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nIn the 18th century, the upper classes developed a curious trend for “living decorations”: wealthy landowners would hire individuals to live in solitude in huts on their vast estates, entirely removed from society. Despite being well-paid, not everyone could endure the lifestyle. One of the most famous cases occurred at Painshill Park in Surrey, where a hermit was contracted for seven years \u2014 but was fired after just three weeks when he was caught drinking in the local pub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some hermits, however, completed their contracts, becoming something between a pet and a tourist attraction. Visitors would be led to their cabins, where these \u201cliving ornaments\u201d would remain silent, solemnly gesturing toward Latin inscriptions and mysterious carvings etched in stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Groom of the Stool<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/londoncult.co.uk\/wp-content\/uploads\/2025\/05\/commodestoolcirca1650-1-602x1024.jpg\")
<\/a>Lobsterthermidor\/Wikimedia <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nStrangely enough, this was once one of the most prestigious roles at the English royal court. The Groom of the Stool was responsible for assisting the monarch with their bodily functions \u2014 preparing the \u201cstool\u201d (toilet), offering water and towels, and sometimes helping directly during the act itself. Despite the undignified name, this role was reserved for the king\u2019s most trusted confidants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Proximity to the royal body granted unprecedented access to court secrets and political affairs. Surviving letters show Grooms of the Stool discussing appointments and intrigues with monarchs. For example, under Henry VIII, the role was held by Sir William Compton, who managed estates, acted as confidant, and likely knew more about the king\u2019s personal life than anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leech Collector<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n
<\/a>Some professions that once existed in Britain sound like they came straight out of a fantasy novel. In times when sanitation was poor and antibiotics nonexistent, rats posed a serious threat, spreading diseases like plague and typhus. That\u2019s why, particularly in 19th-century London, entire teams of rat-catchers were employed \u2014 even by the royal court. The most famous among them was Jack Black, Queen Victoria\u2019s official royal rat-catcher.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Jack wore an eccentric, colourful uniform complete with a belt adorned with rat motifs and travelled the streets with rat-hunting dogs. He also experimented \u2014 less successfully \u2014 with using ferrets, badgers, monkeys, and raccoons. Beyond catching rats, Jack bred white and spotted “fancy rats” and gifted them to aristocratic ladies. Even Queen Victoria had a pet rat, thanks to Jack \u2014 sparking the British craze for domestic rats.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Garden Hermit<\/strong><\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n<\/a>Johann Baptist Theobald Schmitt: Eremit in Flotbeck\/Wikimedia<\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nIn the 18th century, the upper classes developed a curious trend for “living decorations”: wealthy landowners would hire individuals to live in solitude in huts on their vast estates, entirely removed from society. Despite being well-paid, not everyone could endure the lifestyle. One of the most famous cases occurred at Painshill Park in Surrey, where a hermit was contracted for seven years \u2014 but was fired after just three weeks when he was caught drinking in the local pub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some hermits, however, completed their contracts, becoming something between a pet and a tourist attraction. Visitors would be led to their cabins, where these \u201cliving ornaments\u201d would remain silent, solemnly gesturing toward Latin inscriptions and mysterious carvings etched in stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Groom of the Stool<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n<\/a>Lobsterthermidor\/Wikimedia <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nStrangely enough, this was once one of the most prestigious roles at the English royal court. The Groom of the Stool was responsible for assisting the monarch with their bodily functions \u2014 preparing the \u201cstool\u201d (toilet), offering water and towels, and sometimes helping directly during the act itself. Despite the undignified name, this role was reserved for the king\u2019s most trusted confidants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Proximity to the royal body granted unprecedented access to court secrets and political affairs. Surviving letters show Grooms of the Stool discussing appointments and intrigues with monarchs. For example, under Henry VIII, the role was held by Sir William Compton, who managed estates, acted as confidant, and likely knew more about the king\u2019s personal life than anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leech Collector<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n
<\/a>In the 18th century, the upper classes developed a curious trend for “living decorations”: wealthy landowners would hire individuals to live in solitude in huts on their vast estates, entirely removed from society. Despite being well-paid, not everyone could endure the lifestyle. One of the most famous cases occurred at Painshill Park in Surrey, where a hermit was contracted for seven years \u2014 but was fired after just three weeks when he was caught drinking in the local pub.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Some hermits, however, completed their contracts, becoming something between a pet and a tourist attraction. Visitors would be led to their cabins, where these \u201cliving ornaments\u201d would remain silent, solemnly gesturing toward Latin inscriptions and mysterious carvings etched in stone.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Groom of the Stool<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n\n<\/a>Lobsterthermidor\/Wikimedia <\/figcaption><\/figure>\n<\/div>\n\n\nStrangely enough, this was once one of the most prestigious roles at the English royal court. The Groom of the Stool was responsible for assisting the monarch with their bodily functions \u2014 preparing the \u201cstool\u201d (toilet), offering water and towels, and sometimes helping directly during the act itself. Despite the undignified name, this role was reserved for the king\u2019s most trusted confidants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Proximity to the royal body granted unprecedented access to court secrets and political affairs. Surviving letters show Grooms of the Stool discussing appointments and intrigues with monarchs. For example, under Henry VIII, the role was held by Sir William Compton, who managed estates, acted as confidant, and likely knew more about the king\u2019s personal life than anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Leech Collector<\/strong><\/h4>\n\n\n
<\/a>Strangely enough, this was once one of the most prestigious roles at the English royal court. The Groom of the Stool was responsible for assisting the monarch with their bodily functions \u2014 preparing the \u201cstool\u201d (toilet), offering water and towels, and sometimes helping directly during the act itself. Despite the undignified name, this role was reserved for the king\u2019s most trusted confidants.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Proximity to the royal body granted unprecedented access to court secrets and political affairs. Surviving letters show Grooms of the Stool discussing appointments and intrigues with monarchs. For example, under Henry VIII, the role was held by Sir William Compton, who managed estates, acted as confidant, and likely knew more about the king\u2019s personal life than anyone else.<\/p>\n\n\n\n