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London and Environs
Tower of
London - The Royal Menagerie
At least since the 13th
century when Frederick II of Germany sent a present of three leopards to
Henry III (1216-72) the Tower has had a Royal Menagerie, although it may
have been established as early as King John’s time (1199-1216).
Very soon the leopards were joined by lions and a bear and a document
dated 1252 also informs us that the sheriffs of London were required to
pay four pence a day and to provide a muzzle and chain for the maintenance
of a polar bear which had been trained to catch fish in the Thames.
In 1255 King Louis of France
sent Henry III an elephant to add to his collection. People from all over
England crowed into the Tower to see it, “a huge animal that was landed to
the great astonishment of the people”.
The collection continued to grow, gaining more visitors each year,
including international visitors. During Queen Elizabeth I’s time a German
visitor wrote of his visit to the Tower Menagerie: “All variety of
creatures in the Tower including three lionesses, one lion of great size
called Edward VI from his having been born in that reign; a tyger; a lynx;
a wolf excessively old; this is a very scare animal in England, so that
their sheep and cattle stray about in great number, free from any dangers,
though without anybody to keep them; there is besides, a porcupine, and an
eagle. All these creatures are kept in a remote place, fitted up for the
purpose with wooden lattices at the Queen’s expense.”
Ned Ward, the owner of the King’s Head Tavern, visited the Tower Menagerie
and wrote in 1703 of his visit there. Among many side commentaries he said
of the animals themselves: “In their separate apartments were four of
their stern affrighting catships [lions]….The next ill-favour’d creatures
that were presented to our sight were a couple of pretty looking
hell-cats, call’d a tiger, and a cat-a-mountain [panther], whose fierce
penetrating eyes peirc’d thro’ my belly to the sad gripping of my guts, as
if they would have kill’d at a distance with their looks.
In another apartment, or ward, for the conveniency of drawing a penny more
out of the pocket of a spectator, are plac’d the following animals: first
a leopard, who is grown as cunning as a cross Bedlamite that loves not to
be look’d at. The next creatures were three hawk-nosed gentlemen call’d
eagles… next to these were a couple of outlandish owls…”
While the animals were loved and well care for and fed by the standards of
the day, they were also used for entertainment purposes by some monarchs.
James I was nearly pathological in his love of animal baiting and arranged
for a special showing in 1604. Unfortunately the animals were perhaps too
well looked after and after two lions killed a chicken and ate it the
night’s festivities failed miserably. Animal after animal simply
refused to be bothered with killing each other. A spaniel was thrown in
with a lion at one point and the two became fast friends, actually being
allowed to live together “in perfect amity for several years”. Not one to
give up, King James I tried other exotic baitings at the Tower, but there
are other recorded instances of his plans simply not working out.
One story put round by a
keeper told of how on cleaning days a trap door was opened the night
before in the lion pens and once the lions had left the doors were closed so
the keepers could enter first thing in the morning to clean. One day the
trap door to one pen was not closed correctly and the lion reentered its
pen during the night. The keeper in the morning, apparently still half
asleep, entered the pen before noticing the animal watching him. Too
scared to move, he froze: “The sudden surprise of this terrible sight
brought me under such dreadful apprehensions of the danger I was in that I
stood fix’d like a statue, without the power of motion, with my eyes
steadfastly upon the lion, and his likewise upon me.”
The keeper had heard
stories of a maid servant’s arm being torn off by the lions, and her
subsequent death, and was afraid for his life. He was sure that any
movement to leave would encourage the lion to chase and kill him. He
continues: “At last he rous’d himself, as I thought to have made a
breakfast of me; yet, by the assistance of the Providence, I had the
presence of mind to keep steady in my posture. He mov’d towards me without
expressing in his countenance either greediness or anger, but on the
contrary he wag’d his tail, signifying nothing but friendship in his
fawning behaviour. And after he had stared me a little in the face, he
rais’d himself upon his two hindmost feet and laying his two paws upon my
shoulders without hurting me, fell to licking my face, as a further
instance of his gratitude for my feeding him….His tongue was so very rough
that with a few favourite kisses he gave me, it made my cheeks almost as
raw as a pork grisken, which I was very glad to take in good part! And
when he had thus saluted me, and given me his sort of welcome to his den,
he return’d to his place and laid him down, doing me no further damage.”
Today the actual
location of the Royal Menagerie is pretty much unknown, although we know
that Edward I’s Lion Tower was built in the south western corner in 1276-77. It is considered a “great lost institution” because of
this. At its height it was an immensely popular tourist attraction with
the number of visitors to the site rising dramatically after 1800.
A small industry sprang up around these visits, when gullible
from-out-of-town visitors were sold tickets by street hawkers to the,
fictional, Annual Washing of the Lions Ceremony supposedly held each year
on April 1 (Aprils Fools Day).
In the 1930’s two big
cat skulls, a leopard skull, and the skulls of 19 dogs were unearthed in
the Tower and have been stored at the Natural History Museum since then.
Radiocarbon dating dated the best preserved lion skull to some time
between 1280 and 1385, the period when the Lion Tower was first built. The
second skull has been dated to some time between 1420 and 1480.
The Royal Menagerie was closed in 1835, on the orders of the Duke of
Wellington, and the remaining animals were moved to the Zoological
Society’s Gardens in Regent’s Park, now better known as London Zoo.
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