n. A rain-spout projecting from the eaves of mediaeval buildings, commonly fashioned into a grotesque caricature of some personal enemy of the architect or owner of the building. This was especially the case in churches and ecclesiastical structures generally, in which the gargoyles presented a perfect rogues’ gallery of local heretics and controversialists. Sometimes when a new dean and chapter were installed the old gargoyles were removed and others substituted having a closer relation to the private animosities of the new incumbents.
—-Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary
When in New Orleans, sometimes we stay at the interesting St. Vincent’s Guest House. The place is decorated with the wonderful bronze sculptures of Thomas Randolph Morrison. Especially notable is the work entitled “New Orleans Gargoyle” hanging off the clock tower – a horrible monster grinning while offering his victim’s disembodied head to passers-by.
I had read that there was another copy of this sculpture hanging around New Orleans. A developer had converted an industrial building in a run-down area into luxury condominiums and had hung the sculpture on the side of the building to help attract attention.
With a little online sleuthing I found the thing was at the corner of Chippewa and Jackson. In the Lower Garden District. It was an easy ride over to snap a photo. The light wasn’t perfect (the statue was half in shade) and I couldn’t get too close (the property was fenced and gated) – but it was cool to see the guy hanging there, leering, and showing off his prize.