Part 2

The Lion, like all the other cats (the genus to which, in a natural arrangement, he obviously belongs) is armed in each jaw with six strong and exceedingly sharp cutting-teeth, with two formidable canine, and with six others, three on each side, occupying the places of the molar or grinding-teeth, but terminating in sharp protuberances to assist in the laceration of the animal food, which is the proper nutriment of his tribe. Besides these, he has, on each side of the upper jaw, a small tooth, or rather tubercle, placed immediately behind the rest. His tongue is covered with innumerable rough and elevated papillæ, the points of which are directed backwards: these also assist in comminuting his food, and not unfrequently leave their traces on the hand which has been offered him to lick. His claws, five in number on the fore feet, and four on the hind, are of great length, extremely hard, and much curved; they are retractile within a sheath enclosed in the skin which covers the extremity of his paws; and as they are only exposed when he has occasion to make use of them, they thus preserve the sharpness of their edge and the acuteness of their point unimpaired. In all these particulars the Lion essentially agrees with the rest of the cats; and it is these which constitute what naturalists have termed their generic character; in other words, they are the points of agreement which are common to the whole group or genus, and form the most prominent and striking characteristics, by which they may be at once connected together and separated from all other animals.

The Lion is distinguished from other cats by the uniformity of his colour, which is pale tawny above, becoming somewhat lighter beneath, and never, except in his young state, exhibiting the least appearance of spots or stripes: by the long and flowing mane of the adult male, which, originating nearly as far forward as the root of his nose, extends backwards over his shoulders, and descends in graceful undulations on each side of his neck and face; and by the tuft of long and blackish hairs which terminates his powerful tail. These constitute what is termed his specific character, or that which is peculiar to the species or race; connecting the individuals together by marks common to them all, and at the same time separating them from the other animals of the same group or genus.

In his moral and intellectual faculties, as well as in his external and physical characters, the Lion exhibits a close agreement with the strikingly distinct and well marked group to which he belongs, and of which he is unquestionably the first in rank and importance: and perhaps the most effectual means of guarding against the general prejudice, which has delighted in exalting him at the expense of his fellow beasts, will be found in the recollection that, both physically and morally, he is neither more nor less than a cat, of immense size and corresponding power it is true, but not on that account the less endowed with all the guileful and vindictive passions of that faithless tribe. His courage is proverbial: this, however, is not derived from any peculiar nobility of soul, but arises from the blind confidence inspired by a consciousness of his own superior powers, with which he is well aware that none of the inferior animals can successfully compete. Placed in the midst of arid deserts, where the fleet but timid antelope, and the cunning but powerless monkey fall his easy and unresisting prey; or roaming through the dense forests and scarcely penetrable jungles, where the elephant and the buffalo find in their unwieldy bulk and massive strength no adequate protection against the impetuous agility and fierce determination of his attacks, he sways an almost undisputed sceptre, and stalks boldly forth in fearless majesty. But change the scene, and view him in the neighbourhood of populous towns, or even near the habitations of uncultivated savages, and it will then be seen that he recognises his master, and crouches to the power of a superior being. Here he no longer shows himself openly in the proud consciousness of his native dignity, but skulks in the deepest recesses of the forest, cautiously watches his opportunities, and lies in treacherous ambush for the approach of his unwary prey. It is this innate feeling of his incapacity openly to resist the power of man, that renders him so docile in captivity, and gives him that air of mild tranquillity, which, together with the dignified majesty of his deportment, has unquestionably contributed not a little towards the general impression of his amiable qualities.

His forbearance and generosity, if the facts be carefully investigated, will be found to resolve themselves into no more than this: that in his wild state he destroys only to satiate his hunger or revenge, and never, like the “gaunt wolves,” and “sullen tigers,” of whom the poet has composed his train, in the wantonness of his power and the malignity of his disposition; and that, when tamed, his hunger being satisfied and his feelings being free from irritation, he suffers smaller animals to remain in his den uninjured, is familiar with, and sometimes fond of, the keeper by whom he is attended and fed, and will even, when under complete control, submit to the caresses of strangers.

But even this limited degree of amiability, which, in an animal of less formidable powers, would be considered as indicating no peculiar mildness of temper, is modified by the calls of hunger, by the feelings of revenge, which he frequently cherishes for a considerable length of time, and by various other circumstances which render it dangerous to approach him unguardedly, even in his tamest and most domesticated state, without previously ascertaining his immediate state of mind. On such occasions no keeper possessed of common prudence would be rash enough to venture upon confronting him: he knows too well that it is no boy’s play to

… seek the Lion in his den, And fright him there, and make him tremble there;

for in this state of irritation, from whatever cause it may have arisen, he gives free scope to his natural ferocity, unrestrained by that control to which at other times he submits with meek and unresisting patience.

Happily for mankind the range of this tremendous animal is limited to the warmer climates of the earth; and even in these the extent of that range is constantly becoming more and more confined by the spread of human civilization, which, at the same time that it drives him to take refuge at a distance from the haunts of men, contributes greatly to thin his numbers and to diminish his power of annoyance. His true country is Africa, in the vast and untrodden wilds of which, from the immense deserts of the north to the trackless forests of the south, he reigns supreme and uncontrolled. In the sandy deserts of Arabia, in some of the wilder districts of Persia, and in the vast jungles of Hindostan, he still maintains a precarious footing: but from the classic soil of Greece, as well as from the whole of Asia Minor, both of which were once exposed to his ravages, he has been utterly dislodged and extirpated.

There is some variation in the different races of Lions from these distant localities; but this is by no means of sufficient importance to establish a distinction between them. The Asiatic Lion, of which we are now treating, seldom attains a size equal to that of the full-grown Southern African; its colour is a more uniform and paler yellow throughout; and its mane is, in general, fuller and more complete, being furnished moreover with a peculiar appendage in the long hairs, which, commencing beneath the neck, occupy the whole of the middle line of the body below. All these distinctions are, however, modified by age, and vary in different individuals. Their habits are in essential particulars the same: we shall therefore defer what we have farther to say on this head until we come to speak of the Cape Lion, and proceed to the history of the Asiatic individual now exhibiting in this Menagerie, a striking likeness of which is given in the engraving at the head of the present article.

This fine animal, although called by the keepers “the Old Lion,” is, in reality, little more than five years old; and that designation was adopted only for the purpose of distinguishing him from the Cape Lion, a comparatively modern resident of the Menagerie. His proper name, or rather that by which he has been known ever since his arrival at the Tower, is George. The following anecdotes relative to the mode of his capture, and to his habits and demeanour in his captivity, are given on the authority of Mr. Cops, who derived his information on the first point from General Watson himself, and speaks to the rest from his personal observation.

It was in the commencement of the year 1823, when the General was on service in Bengal, that being out one morning on horseback, armed with a double-barrelled rifle, he was suddenly surprised by a large male Lion, which bounded out upon him from the thick jungle at the distance of only a few yards. He instantly fired, and, the shot taking complete effect, the animal fell dead almost at his feet. No sooner was this formidable foe thus disposed of than a second, equally terrible, made her appearance in the person of the Lioness, whom the General also shot at and wounded so dangerously that she retreated into the thicket. As her following so immediately in the footsteps of her mate afforded strong grounds for suspecting that their den could not be far distant, he determined upon pursuing the adventure to the end, and traced her to her retreat, where he completed the work of her destruction, by again discharging the contents of one of the barrels of his rifle, which he had reloaded for the purpose. In the den were found a beautiful pair of cubs, male and female, supposed to be then not more than three days old. These the General brought away with him, and succeeded by the assistance of a goat, who was prevailed upon to act in the capacity of foster-mother to the royal pair, in rearing them until they attained sufficient age and strength to enable them to bear the voyage to England. On their arrival in this country, in September, 1823, he presented them to his Majesty, who commanded them to be placed in the Tower. The male of this pair is the subject of the present, the female that of the succeeding article.

The extreme youth of these Lions at the time of their capture, and the constant control to which they had been accustomed from that early period of their existence, rendered them peculiarly tame and docile, insomuch that, for twelve months after their arrival, they were frequently suffered to walk in the open yard among the visitors, who caressed them and played with them with impunity. The Duke of Sussex, in particular, was highly delighted with the unusual spectacle of a Lion and a Lioness bounding about him at perfect liberty, and with all their natural grace and agility. It must, however, be observed that they were not then fully grown, and that it was afterwards thought necessary to place them under greater restraint; but more with the view of guarding against possible mischief, than in consequence of any positive symptoms of rebellion. Of the change which has taken place in the character of the female, we shall have occasion to speak hereafter: the male still continues perfectly docile, and suffers himself to be treated with the greatest familiarity by his keepers and those to whom he is accustomed.

Like all the other carnivorous animals in the Menagerie, he is fed but once in the twenty-four hours; and his meal usually consists of a piece of beef, of eight or nine pounds weight, exclusive of bone. This he seizes with avidity, tears it to pieces instantly with his claws, and ravenously devours it; contrary to the usual custom of his fellow lions in a state of nature, who are said generally to remain for a considerable time after they have struck the fatal blow, before proceeding to glut their appetite with the flesh and blood of their victim. This awful pause of suspense may, however, under such circumstances, be attributable to an instinctive desire completely to finish their work, or at least to preclude the possibility of resistance, prior to removing from the body of their prostrate prey the weapon with which his destruction has been inflicted.

It has been generally remarked, that lions in captivity have certain constant and stated times for roaring: this observation is not, however, strictly true with regard to those now in the Tower. It may nevertheless be observed that in the summer time, especially when the atmospheric temperature is considerable, they uniformly commence roaring about dawn, one of them taking the lead, and the others joining in the concert in succession; and Mr. Cops has frequently had occasion to remark that whenever any one of them fails in accompanying the rest in their by no means harmonious performance, the cessation from the customary roar is an infallible symptom of actual or approaching illness. At no other time is there that regularity in their roaring which has been so frequently stated; although the chorus which has just been described is sometimes repeated after feeding, and also when they have been left alone for any length of time; hence it occurs particularly on Sundays, a day on which they have no company except from the occasional visits of the keepers.

THE LIONESS AND HER CUBS.

Strikingly distinguished at the first glance from her royal mate by the absence of the flowing honours of the mane, which invest him with an air of superior dignity and gravity, the Lioness is also remarkable for her smaller size, her more slender and delicate make, and the superior grace and agility of her movements. Her inferiority in muscular strength to the Lion, and to him alone, is, however, fully compensated by the greater liveliness of her disposition, the unrestrained ardour of her passions, and the vigorous impetuosity of her motions, which all contribute to render her an equally formidable opponent with her more powerful, but less irritable, lord. They differ also in another obvious characteristic, the habitual position and direction of their heads, that of the Lion being almost uniformly elevated and thrown upwards with an air of mingled frankness and hauteur, agreeing well with the popular notions of his tranquil dignity of temper and deportment; while the Lioness as constantly carries her head on a level with the line of her back, thus giving to her otherwise expressive countenance a sullen and downcast look, and evincing a nearer approach to the inferior races of the feline tribe. This singular distinction appears to be in a great measure dependent on the absence of the mane; for it is observed that the young male cubs, until the period at which this badge of dignity begins to make its appearance, that is to say until they are about twelve months old, carry their heads in the same level position with the female.

It cannot be doubted that the lighter and slenderer shape of the Lioness, and her consequently greater activity, tend in an especial manner to the formation of that more lively and sensitive character by which all her actions are so strongly marked: but there is another cause, no less powerful than these, which operates with peculiar force, in the vivid excitability of her maternal feelings, which she cherishes with an ardour almost unparalleled in the history of any other animal. From the moment that she becomes a mother, the native ferocity of her disposition is renovated as it were with tenfold vigour; she watches over her young with that undefined dread of danger to their weak and defenceless state, and that suspicious eagerness of alarm, which keep her in a constant state of feverish excitation: and woe be to the wretched intruder, whether man or beast, who should unwarily at such a time approach the precincts of her sanctuary. Even in a state of captivity, and however completely she may have been previously subjected to the control of her keeper, she loses all respect for his commands, and abandons herself occasionally to the most violent paroxysms of rage.

Of this the individual Lioness now in the Tower affords a striking example. We have already observed in our account of the Lion that, for a considerable time after her arrival in England, she was so tame as to be allowed frequently to roam at large about the open yard; and even long after it had been judged expedient that this degree of liberty should no longer be granted, her disposition was far from exciting any particular fear in the minds of her keepers. As an instance of this, we may mention that when, on one occasion about a year and a half ago, she had been suffered through inadvertence to leave her den, and when she was by no means in good temper, George Willoughway, the under keeper, had the boldness, alone and armed only with a stick, to venture upon the task of driving her back into her place of confinement; which he finally accomplished, not however without strong symptoms of resistance on her part, as she actually made three springs upon him, all of which he was fortunate enough to avoid.

But from the period when she gave birth to her Cubs a total alteration has taken place in her temper and demeanour. She no longer suffers the least familiarity even on the part of her keepers, but gives full scope to the violence of her passions. Intent solely on providing for the security of her young, she imagines that the object of every person who approaches her den is to rob her of her treasures, over which she watches with almost sleepless anxiety, exhibiting the truly beautiful but appalling picture of maternal tenderness combined with savage ferocity, each in their utmost intensity of force and colouring.

The Cubs, which are three in number, two male and one female, were whelped on the 20th of October, 1827, the day of the battle of Navarino; and it is remarked by Mr. Cops, as a curious coincidence, that they are the only Lions which have been whelped in the Tower since the year 1794, rendered memorable by the great naval victory gained by Lord Howe over the French fleet. They are universally considered to be the finest ever bred in England, and are now in a most thriving condition. They have not, however, yet reached the period when the shedding of the milk-teeth takes place, a process which is perhaps more perilous to the brute creation than that of dentition to the offspring of the human race, and appears indeed to be attended with greater risks in proportion to the carnivorous propensities of the respective species. To the Lion it has always proved, at least in his state of captivity, a period of the greatest danger, very few individuals of the numerous whelps which have been produced either here or on the continent surviving its effects. Still there is good reason to hope, from the peculiarly healthy appearance of the present litter, that, by means of skilful management, the danger may be averted, and that a pair at least of these noble animals, “born and bred in England,” may in a few years rival their parents in size, in beauty, and in majesty.

The mother and her whelps are admirably represented in the spirited group of portraits which heads the present article. The latter have all the playfulness of kittens, and are fondled by their dam in a similar manner to that in which the domestic cat caresses her young. While they were small enough she carried them from place to place in her mouth, and showed the greatest solicitude to keep them from the view of strangers; and even now that they are grown too large for this mode of treatment, she continues to pay the strictest attention to the cleanliness of their persons, and licks their fur, as they tumble about her, with all the matronly dignity and gravity of an accomplished nurse.

The Cubs have hitherto exhibited very faint traces of the striped livery which is generally characteristic of the Lion’s whelp; but it is highly probable that when they lose their winter coat, this marking may become more obvious, although, on account of their advancing age, it will never show itself with that distinctness which has been observed in other instances. It consists of a blackish band, extending along the centre of the back, from the head almost to the extremity of the tail, and branching off into numerous other bands of the same colour, which are parallel to each other, and pass across the upper parts of the sides and tail. The very young lion consequently bears no small resemblance to the tiger; a circumstance which it is interesting to remark as one which furnishes additional evidence of the close affinity of these formidable animals. The colouring of its bands is, however, much less intense; and in addition to these it possesses on the head and on the limbs numerous irregular spots of a darker hue than the rest of the fur, which are never found in the neighbouring species. On the limbs of the present Cubs these spots and blotches are distinctly visible amidst the rough and half shaggy coat which covers them, and which is not exchanged for the smooth and sleek fur, with which they are subsequently invested, until they approach their full growth. As they advance towards the adult age, which takes place in the fifth or sixth year, the livery gradually disappears, and is then usually entirely lost. The Lioness herself, however, still retains some trifling vestiges of it. The Cubs are, as usual, destitute of the longer hairs which form the tuft at the extremity of the tail of the adult, which in them tapers to a black tip. Their voice is at present perfectly similar to the mewing of a cat; and it is not until they reach the age of eighteen months that it changes into that peculiar roar which afterwards becomes so tremendous. At that age the mane has already attained considerable developement. This appendage begins to make its appearance in the males when they are ten or twelve months old, having at first the shape of a slight frill or ruff, but gradually becoming more and more extensive, and at length assuming that striking form which gives to the full grown animal a graceful and dignified, and to the more aged a reverend and majestic, air.

THE CAPE LION.

_FELIS LEO._--Var. CAPENSIS.