A story of discovery

A story of discovery

When we created Rockwell we really wanted a chance to be able to offer something a little different to the London cocktail scene – a unique space that didn’t take itself too seriously, serving up an array of cocktails that played on the senses and told a story through each serve.

Each of our cocktails pays tribute to a number of the fantastical and surreal beasts that adorn the walls throughout the space and also fill the pages of our menu.

To give a little more insight into the story behind these strange beasts, we give you the story of Sir Archibald Rockwell…

All of London had been alive with the news so, when he had been summoned to attend the King, Rockwell had a pretty shrewd idea of what it might be regarding. “Blast it Rockwell! You’ve heard about this insufferable lion I suppose?” cried the King. Rockwell conceded that he had indeed heard of the lion’s escape from Trafalgar Square. “It’s always been troublesome”, the King continued. “The other four stay put, but not this one! He just ups and leaves one day – just like that. Would you believe it?” A young street urchin who whistled for tips on The Strand had told Rockwell that the fifth stone lion ornamenting Nelson’s Column had simply risen from his plinth one day, just after noon, and dived straight into the fountain. And so Rockwell found himself about to step into the unknown, into unchartered territory where all manner of unnatural beasts were said to be found residing, to retrieve the beast.

Rockwell plunged into the fountain; the icy water almost took his breath away. When he re-emerged the busy streets of London had disappeared and in their place he saw a magnificent and luscious jungle. He stepped out of the fountain and into the undergrowth. As he picked through the thick foliage he began to notice strange scents: the air had the aroma of exotic spices and something indiscernible. Large green leaves surrounded him and trees towered above him before giving way to an alien sky, bleached yellow by the sun. He heard the cries of great birds above him caw! caw! and watched with amazement as they flew in awkward, juddering movements across the golden sky. He raised his bow as an unearthly cry sounded out – a macaque monkey with the head of a seashell swung above him, leaping from branch to branch. In a clearing ahead stood grazing a stag with a rich red coat and a pair of large blue feathered wings. He pushed on through the jungle…

There were mushrooms the size of oak trees, other strange plants danced and swayed as though underwater, despite the stillness of the air. Occasionally one of the buds would hiss and pop, making him jump and once more raise his bow. Through the trees he could make out an enormous temple supported by a thousand stone pillars rising high into the air. And then – just beyond – the stone lion! He was a truly magnificent beast, majestic and stealthy and like a lion in every way except for his size and stony flesh which lent him a greyish hue. Without thinking Rockwell raised his bow and shot an arrow straight at the lion. He realised his mistake when the arrow hit the stone and fell limply to the ground. The lion grunted at him then moved slowly off into the jungle… The first of many attempts to capture the stone lion. After a while, Rockwell began to grow as wild as his surroundings. His clever and adventurous mind took the shape of a sundial and on his back he sprouted wings, soon he forgot why he had come at all. He certainly never did return the lion to the King.