The centenary of the Battle of Leipzig — Barnum’s lions loose in the streets — the Hotel Fürst Blücher — the English guest and the knock at his door — October 1813 and October 1913
These letters reflect the language, assumptions, and prejudices of the colonial era. Some passages contain descriptions of people and nations that are offensive by contemporary standards. This language is reproduced here exactly as printed, without softening, because these are historical primary source documents. It does not reflect the views of this website or its researcher.
Home & Foreign Parts
IV.
Anniversary of the Great Battle of Leipsic, 1813.
New Invasion of British Lions, Who Made a Mistake.
In the year 1881, when I (one of the first settlers near Coff’s Harbour) lived in my first solitary camp under a gigantic fig-tree, a young surveyor, fresh from Old England, met me. In the run of our conversation, I asked: “How is the old home getting on?” “Alas,” he answered, “things look very, very sad at home. It wants a jolly good war in Europe again, that will help Old England up on her legs again. . . .”
I remember these words; and to-day, on our (wife and I) trip to Europe we witnessed the celebration of the deliverance of the Nations of Europe out of the tyrannical bondage of Buonaparte in that terrible battle, and the subsequent wars, when all nations of Europe fought their quarrels out in the plains of poor, diligent, pious Germany, which is unluckily situated in the middle of ambitious, jealous neighbours, led on by such aristocrats, called not long ago by that English brave statesman, Asquith, “pirates and sons of pirates.” These neighbouring nations and “nobles” considered wars in the German Fatherland a kind of jolly sport. Now a hundred years having passed, the grateful and jubilant population of Germany, England, Austria, and Russia met on October 18th on the plains of Leipsic, where the great victory of libenty was won.
The streets of Leipsic were full to overflowing when a big waggon of Barnum’s Circus containing seven fine lions and one royal tiger was run into and smashed by an electric car, and all the animals escaped. They first ran close together up the street between the terrified and panic-stricken people, who fled, shrieking, into every possible shelter, whereby the beasts got so frightened that they did not know what to do, so they ran roaring through the streets. The police and members of the Fire Brigade were valiantly hunting and firing revolvers at them, till finally the flock of lions separated and ran in all directions. The circus people tried in vain, with forks, iron bars, nets, etc., to drive the animals into safe corners. The excitement grew tremendous. Several lions at last sprang through a plate-glass window into a crowded cafe of the Hotel Furst Blucher, causing unspeakable excitement amongst the guests and waiters, who let trays of crockery and glasses fall clattering to the floor, and sought refuge behind tables, chairs, counters, etc. Some tried to climb iron pillars. Ladies screamed, fainted, and went into hysterics. A babel of confusion followed. At last the guests rushed into the streets. The lions ran excitedly, roaring up and down the passages and upstairs, while the hotel was surrounded by policemen and privates, with shooting irons prepared for a lion hunt. The piercing cries of terrified horses suddenly drew the attention of the assembled multitude to the street. They were horror-struck to see that a lion had savagely attacked and bitten several horses, which were harnessed to a waggon. This animal was promptly shot dead. Meanwhile the lions in the cafe were driven and hunted upstairs. The circus men threw strong nets on them, captured and at last got them to the Zoological Gardens under safe keeping. The lady lion tamer excitedly wrung her hands and begged the police not to shoot her lions, who injured the horses, and as she saw her prayer was in vain she threw herself in an agony of weeping across the bodies of her lifeless darlings. One could understand her sorrow and regret, for they were the noblest specimens of their tribe, but the police obeyed orders, were answerable for the security of the people, and dared not hesitate. The lions must be captured or destroyed. Five lions were shot dead; two lions and the royal tiger, which latter behaved most orderly, were captured.
An English guest in the hotel Furst Blucher, into which the lions entered, afterwards said that while he lay at rest he heard a loud scratching at the door of his room and a growl. He thought the waiter knocked and wanted something, and called out, “Come in.” He opened the door, and the blood froze in his veins, when he saw the terrible sight of a live full-maned lion. He quickly slammed the door in the face of the visitor. As English gentry in other parts are, as a rule, suspicious of other guests of their native isle, who have not been introduced to them, this gentleman’s quick resolve to have nothing to do with this strange creature is not to be wondered at. Also a lady, who opened the door to put out her shoes, was horrified at the sudden appearance of a lion, and set the whole house in commotion by her screams; a German coachman showed the most courage and presence of mind by this invasion of a lion, as one beast sprang upon his horse, which was standing harnessed to his cab. The animal stood quite still, but the coachman, who had just come out of a beer house, calmly took the lion with both hands by the mane, and pulled him from his horse. This lion was so frightened that he did not know what to do, and next sprang on top of a motor omnibus, from where the passengers fled in horror. There he was shot, quite undeservedly, and carried in triumph away. Over 20 policemen and Fire Brigade men took part in the hunt, which was very difficult owing to a dense fog. One lion was riddled by 150 bullets. The three surviving animals, owned by the circus, were taken to the Zoological Garden at 5 p.m. Damage £4000.
F. and N. Rieck.
This is a transcription of the original newspaper text. The closing signature “F. and N. RIECK” is preserved as printed; “N.” is almost certainly a typesetter error for “H.” (Hermann). Readers are encouraged to verify against the Trove source image linked above.