by Clay, Jeremy
A large number of boys collected and began stoning the escaped reptile, and succeeded in beating its head to a pulp. When PC Dixon arrived on the scene at half-past nine the python was still alive, and no one dare approach it.
Ultimately the injuries which the reptile had suffered to its head caused its death, and it was taken to Dr Veitch, the hon. Curator of the Middlesbrough Museum, who identified it as an Indian Rock Snake (python malurus), a live example of which species he had killed in order to be stuffed and placed in the Museum.
It is not known how the reptile came to be in the town, but during the past few weeks a sensational performance by Cleopatra, the snake charmer, has been given at the Exhibition in Victoria Square, and it is conjectured that this specimen is one of the snakes used in the performance, as it is of the same size, marking, and description.
Some nine hundredweights of snakes were used by Cleopatra, as the snakes could not be used at every performance, and needed rest. The place where the snake was found is considerably over a quarter of a mile from where the exhibition was held.
The snake’s skin is in a good state of preservation, and Mr G.W. Duncan of the Gladstone Hotel, has secured it for £5, which amount goes to the infirmary, and will have it stuffed.
The North-Eastern Daily Gazette, Middlesbrough, November 3, 1898
Strange Birth
A boy in the district of Kirkcaldy who has a passion for chicken-hatching, got a large egg some time ago from some sailors just come from Alexandria, and placed it under a favourite hen, expecting to get a large Egyptian fowl but his surprise and amazement may be better conceived than described when he found one morning a live crocodile!
The Hampshire Telegraph and Sussex Chronicle, August 25, 1849
Wrecking of a Circus
Alligators and Deadly Snakes at Large
An accident near Altoona, Penn., reported on Friday proves to have been very serious. A special train of 14 cars, containing Main’s Circus, while descending a steep grade on a branch of the Pennsylvania Railway was totally wrecked by the breaking of an axle on the front car.
The entire train was thrown down a 35ft slope. Seven men and 49 trained horses were instantly killed. Many of the animals were wounded and had to be shot.
A man-slaying ape – a most dangerous creature – escaped, but was caught, as well as one lion. Another lion escaped; a third was lassoed and tied to a tree. A bear, a hyena, a tiger, and others were confined in a similar manner. Another tiger leaped into a farmyard where a woman was milking and killed the cow; it was shot while eating its victim.
The alligators and some valuable and deadly snakes are scattered about the vicinity.
The Manchester Weekly Times, June 9, 1893
Extraordinary Escape of a Tiger in Ratcliff Highway.
Frightful Attack of the Animal on a Boy
Yesterday, between twelve and one o’clock at noon, the inhabitants of St George’s-in-the-East (alias Ratcliff Highway), were suddenly thrown into a state of the utmost alarm in consequence of the escape of a large tiger from the warehouse of Mr Jamrach, the extensive importer of wild beasts, &c., of No. 180, Ratcliff Highway, whereby a boy, named John Wade, aged five years, was very seriously injured, and other parties’ lives were placed in great jeopardy.
It appears that yesterday morning Mr Jamrach received several boxes, containing two tigers, a lion, and other animals, from the steam ship Germany, lying off Hambro’ Wharf, near the Custom House, Lower Thames Street, City. The packages were safely placed in a van, and conveyed to the warehouse in Betts Street, St George’s-in-the-East, followed by a crowd of men, women, and children, where a number of labourers adopted means to unload the vehicle.
They had removed several boxes into the premises in safety, and had just lowered a large iron-bound cage on to the pavement in front of the gateway when Police Constable Stewart requested the persons standing round to keep back in case of an accident.
The next moment the occupant (a fine full-sized tiger) became restless, and forced out one end of the cage, when the spectators rushed in every direction from the spot in a state of extreme terror. The tiger appeared to be in a state of madness, and ran along the pavement in the direction of Ratcliff Highway, where it seized the little boy, John Wade, by the upper part of the right arm.
The enraged animal was followed by Mr Jamrach and his men several yards, when the former obtained possession of a crowbar and struck the tiger upon the head and nose, which caused it to relinquish its hold. In the meanwhile ropes were procured, and the savage beast was secured and dragged into the premises, where it was firmly fastened up by the keepers.
The poor boy was raised up by Stewart, the police officer, in a state of great suffering with two severe lacerated wounds on the arm and right side of the face, and it was quite a miracle he was not torn to pieces. The teeth of the animal passed completely through the right arm.
A cab was procured, in which the wounded boy was conveyed to the London Hospital, where Mr Forbes, the house surgeon, rendered every assistance. The boy was in a very low state from loss of blood from the wounds, and last evening, at seven o’clock, he was in a very precarious condition, both from the injuries and shock to the system through fright.
At the time of the escape of the animal the tradespeople in the neighbourhood closed their shops, and remained in a state of fear and anxiety for nearly half an hour afterwards.
It seems that Mr Jamrach is an extensive importer and exporter of all kinds of wild beasts and foreign birds, which he forwards to all parts of the world for menageries and private collections.
The Standard, London, October 27, 1857
Extraordinary Fight
Our readers doubtless noticed, a few days back, an account of a tiger which escaped from a cattle truck in Ratcliff Highway, London, and which, after running along the centre of the road for some distance, was caught by his keepers while in the act of tearing a lad who unfortunately crossed the animal’s path.
The tiger was the property of Mr Jamrach, and he sold it a day or two afterwards to Mr Edmonds, the successor of Wombwell, for his well-known travelling menagerie, which it joined on Monday at West Bromwich. It was placed in one of the ordinary carriages, of two compartments, the adjoining den being occupied by a very fine lion, six or seven years old, for which Mr Edmonds gave £300 three years ago.
The attendants had all left the menagerie to go to breakfast, when suddenly those in the carriage which the proprietors occupy were alarmed by an unusual outcry among the beasts. They soon discovered the cause. The newly-bought tiger had burglariously broken through the ‘slide’ or partition dividing his den from that of the lion, and had the latter in his terrible grasp.
The combat which ensued was a terrific one. The lion acted chiefly on the defensive, and having probably been considerably tamed by his three years’ confinement the tiger had the advantage. His attacks were of the most ferocious kind. The lion’s mane saved his head and neck from being much injured, but the savage assailant at last succeeded in ripping up his belly, and then the poor animal was at the tiger’s mercy. The lion was dead in a few minutes.
The scene was a fearful one. The inmates of every den seemed to be excited by the conflict, and their roaring and howling might have been heard a quarter of a mile distant. Of course Mr Edmonds and his men could not interfere while the conflict lasted, but when the tiger’s fury had subsided they managed to remove the carcase.
He must have used his paws as a sort of battering ram against the partition, as it was pushed in rather than torn down. He cost Mr Edmonds £400.
The Isle of Wight Observer, November 14, 1857
A Civil Crocodile
Some six weeks ago a lively young crocodile contrived, one night, to effect its escape from Josepha Choikowa’s travelling menagerie, then exhibiting at Kuschwarda [in Bohemia], and all the efforts made to discover its hiding-place in the neighbouring brooks and ponds proving fruitless, its proprietress, after three days’ search gave it
up as irretrievably lost, and departed on her further professional rounds.
A month later the smith of Salsau, a village not far from Kuschwarda, was strolling home towards evening through the rain, when he suddenly espied, lying in a huge puddle on the high road, what he took to be a drunken man, prostrate and helpless.
Upon wading into the mud, with the charitable intention of extricating the recumbent one from so miry a bed, he perceived to his astonishment that the object of his solicitude was the missing crocodile. Nothing daunted, he fastened a rope round the saurian’s scaly body behind its shoulders, and led it along until he met a cart, into which, with the assistance of the driver, he managed to lift it.
The crocodile made no resistance, but followed its captor as meekly as though it had been a tame dog tied to a string. On subsequent examination it was found to have increased in size and weight during its spell of liberty, and to be, for a crocodile, in excellent health and spirits.
What it was fed upon while roaming about the country, and how it had kept out of the cold during the chilly nights of May and June, are still mysteries to its owner, who has joyfully recovered possession of her truant.
The Illustrated Police News, July 24, 1880
A Monkey’s Suicide
At Goldsboro, N.C. the other day, occurred one of the most novel suicides of the century, the victim being a monkey owned by Mr Rockwell Syrock.
The animal was quite a favourite with all the children for miles around and knew most of them. For several years, Jocko’s owner had been in the habit of visiting all the hangings in this portion of the state, taking the mischievous animal with him. The monkey always seemed to take an especial interest in such horrible proceedings.
On the 25th June, Alexander Howard was to have been executed for the murder of an old man, but the Governor respited him. The gibbet made for carrying out the sentence had been erected before the executive interposed his power and postponed it. Syrock visited the gaol with the monkey and examined these preparations.
The animal seemed to be unusually curious and watched the scaffold and trap with earnest eyes. Since that time he has been playing hanging in his master’s barn. One morning he was found dead, suspended by a clothes line to one of the rafters of the building.
The Illustrated Police News, August 7, 1880
Elephant in Possession.
A Joyous Interloper
On Thursday considerable commotion was created in the neighbourhood of Lake Road, Landport, by an extraordinary escapade of the elephant ‘Picaninny,’ belonging to Mr Dan Sullivan, the ‘strong man’ now performing at the People’s Hall of Varieties in that thoroughfare.
The animal, which was stabled in a store behind some premises in Clarendon Street, belonging to Mr F. Pearce, the proprietor of the hall, escaped from the building by breaking open the door and having found its way into an adjoining alley, abutting Timpson Street, entered the house of a man named Charles Tubbs, where it remained unobserved for a considerable time.
Both Mr and Mrs Tubbs happened to be away from home when the animal gained admission by forcing open the front door. Finding no one to interfere with its diversions, it proceeded to demolish the contents of the two rooms on the ground floor.
Meanwhile its escape from the stable was discovered by the keeper, who, on going to the place for the purpose of feeding his ‘little pet,’ was dismayed to find the store unoccupied. A thorough search of the premises was followed by an inspection of the open ground adjoining, but no trace of the missing animal could be discovered, and the owner ultimately offered a reward of £1 to anyone who could give him information as to its whereabouts.
Presently Mr Tubbs returned home, and noticed that some turf in front of his cottage had been torn up. This he attributed to mischievous boys, but on reaching the door he observed that the window blind downstairs had disappeared, and at the same moment heard a peculiar noise, apparently proceeding from the back of the premises.
Peering through a back window, he was astonished to find the apartment tenanted by Picaninny, of whose escape he had heard. The animal was playfully throwing some pictures about the room with its trunk.
The keeper was soon brought upon the scene, and with some trouble the elephant was coaxed through the narrow passage, and led out of the house to safe quarters. Mr Tubbs has been satisfactorily compensated from the damage.
The Evening News, Portsmouth, October 14, 1892
John Lubbock’s Pet Wasp
Perhaps the strangest pet ever kept by man was a wasp which Sir John Lubbock caught in the Pyrenees and resolved to tame.
He began by teaching it to take its meals on his hand, and although the tiny creature was at first shy of going through its table d’hôte on such an unusual festive board, in a very short space of time it grew to expect to be fed in that way.
Sir John preserved this pet with the greatest care. True, it stung him once, but then it had every excuse for doing so. Sir John was examining it on a railway journey, and, the door being opened by a ticket collector, he unceremoniously stuffed it into a bottle, and the outraged Spaniard, not feeling quite at home during the process, gave him a gentle reminder as to the proper way to treat a guest.
The wasp was a pet in every sense of the word, and became so fond of its owner that it allowed itself to be stroked.
It enjoyed civilisation for just nine months, when it fell ill, and although Sir John did all he could to prolong its life, it died.
Many wasps have been under Sir John’s observation, but he has never had such a genuine pet as this one.
The Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette, March 16, 1899
A Lion Loose
Mr T.J. Osborne of Old Market Street, Neath, was the subject of a strange adventure at the Bridge Hotel, Llandrindod Wells, on Friday afternoon, about half-past three o’clock. Mr Osborne was preparing to leave for home by the afternoon train on that day, when a full-grown African lion dashed in through the open window. Mr Osborne seized a chair to defend himself. At this instant the lion’s keeper and a staff of men appeared on the scene. The keeper warned Mr Osborne not to stir. With as little delay as possible the keeper and his assistants made their way to the room with the necessary appliances for recapturing the brute. With some difficulty they succeeded in throwing a sack over the lion’s head, after which he was firmly secured with ropes. It was found that the lion had made its escape from Wombwell’s menagerie, which was located on a plot of ground near the Bridge Hotel.
Berrow’s Worcester Journal, July 6, 1889
A Monkey Murderer and Suicide
An extraordinary occurrence is reported as having happened at Jump, near Barnsley, on Saturday afternoon, and on inquiry the following facts were well authenticated: A miner named John Hines possessed three monkeys, an old one and two young ones, and like the generality of the tribe, the elder one was fond of imitating what was going on in the household.
On Saturday afternoon whilst shaving himself, Hines was called out into the back yard to see after some pigs that had broken out of the sty, and half-shaved as he was he rushed out, leaving the razor on the table, and his pets, apparently oblivious of his movements.
No sooner, however, was his back turned than the father of the two young monkeys seized the razor and commenced to try his ’prentice hand on his offspring. He evidently miscalculated the keenness of the edge, for in the twinkling of an eye he had severed the heads of the little things almost completely from their bodies.
Even here his experiment did not stop, for he next turned the blade against himself with an almost similar result, for he inflicted a deep gash in the throat.
On Hines’ return in a few minutes he found his two young pets quite dead, and the father gasping for breath on the ground, bleeding profusely. The author of the mischief lingered until Sunday, and then he too succumbed to his self-inflicted injuries. The affair has excited considerable interest. It is the intention of the owner to have the dead monkeys stuffed.
The Royal
Cornwall Gazette, March 20, 1890
LOVE, MARRIAGE
and FAMILY
Preface
It was a wedding night to forget for Henry and Mary Glanister of Liverpool. At least, it would have been if they could remember it in the first place.
On the morning of their first day of married life, they woke up apart. The groom had been arrested the evening before and spent the night in a police cell. His new bride would have been furious with him if she hadn’t been locked up too.
Perhaps she reserved her rage for her mother instead. After all, Mum started it, according to the Manchester Evening News on July 11, 1882, becoming ‘so overcome with emotion and liquor that she became uproarious and fell into the hands of the police’. The newlyweds piled in to free her, and ended up behind bars that night rather than in each other’s arms.
In that, they weren’t unique. Two years later another couple from Liverpool spent their first night as man and wife in the cells. Thomas and Mary McNamara had enjoyed the convivial company of their sisters, cousins and aunts during the afternoon, reported the Manchester Courier and Lancashire General Advertiser of October 9, 1884. The drink flowed freely, and when they staggered off to the pub, the barman refused to serve them. ‘This by no means pleased the wedding guests’, the paper noted, drily. When the police arrived to turf them out, Mrs McNamara punched PC 829 in the face, and it was off to the bridewell for the unsteady bride and groom.
A similar tale of drunken nuptial woe played out in London in October 1868, according to the zippily-titled Bucks Herald, Uxbridge Advertiser, Windsor and Eton Journal. Elizabeth Stanton, of Holborn, was dancing in her local when things – in a frustratingly unspecified way – got a little out of hand, and she was asked to leave. By way of reply, she smashed a window, punched the barman then tried to bite a policeman. Twice. You can guess the rest.