Eugene Doyle recalls the exploits of con-artist Arthur Furguson who ‘sold’ English national monuments to visiting Americans during the 1920s

 

On a bright, sunny day in 1923, a wealthy American stood in London’s Trafalgar Square looking up intently at Nelson’s Column. As he did so, a Scotsman engaged him in conversation. He explained that the square had been named after one of Britain’s most famous sea battles, when the British fleet defeated the combined navies of France and Spain in 1805.

Sadly, he added, the man in charge of the British Navy, Horatio Nelson, had died and the towering monument in the middle of the square had been erected to commemorate his victory.

But then the Scotsman’s voice dropped to a whisper as he told the American to have a good look around whilst he could because the column wasn’t going to be there much longer. Britain’s post-war debts had reached such an unimaginable figure that the government had decided that the column, lions and fountains included, would have to be sold to help the country’s economy.

What’s more, the Scotsman, whose name was Arthur Furguson, had actually been put in charge of the negotiations with the instructions that whilst he had to obtain a ‘good’ price, he also had to ensure it went to the ‘right’ person, someone who would appreciate it and take care of it.

By this time, the American was showing a great interest, particularly as the price was a mere six thousand pounds. When Furguson told him that there were others who were interested, the American pleaded with him to complete the sale there and then.
That wasn’t possible said Furguson, he would have to consult with his superiors. He left the square and returned a short time later with the good news that a sale was possible but only if the cash could be handed over that day.

“No problem,” said the American, taking out his cheque book and handing over a cheque for the full amount. As a special thank you, Furguson then gave him the name and address of a contractor who would be willing to demolish and ship the monument over to the United Sates at a very reasonable price.

However, when the American contacted them he was told that they knew nothing about it and, in any case, they didn’t undertake such jobs. They then suggested that he had been conned and it was only after he had told officials at New Scotland Yard that he accepted that he had been duped. By that time it was too late, the cheque had been cashed and Furguson had disappeared.

Continue reading in this week’s Ireland’s Own