You've probably heard fables of exotic animals living in the sewers of the world's cities, but did you know that a lion once roamed the sewers of Birmingham? Not only that, but it's owner lied to the police that he had recaptured the beast - and left it down there.
Frank C Bostock was a larger-than-life character from the Victorian era who had made his fortune from building then exhibiting a travelling menagerie. He was the first "lion tamer" to discover that the big cats were intimidated by chairs being waved at them, and used this tactic to great effect in his shows.
Bostock's "The Jungle" show arrived in Birmingham in the August of 1889, setting up in the Aston area of the city. During a practise with the lions his best male leapt over his head then forced its way through a rip in the big top canvas before running off towards the city. Not liking what it saw, the lion dropped down into an open sewer outlet then spent the next couple of hours padding up and down the system, roaring up at any openings it encountered.
Crowds gathered to see this phenomenon, scattering each time the lion roared, but when things went quiet the mob grew angry, demanding that Bostock do something. What he did was to sneak another lion quietly out of the menagerie in a covered wagon, turn around then return in a loud fanfare, proclaiming that the roaming lion had been recaptured!
Newspapers around the world reported on Bostock's spectacular success in saving the people of Birmingham from the king of the beasts, and the show that night was jam packed. He span a ludicrous yarn about a fight between a stag and an ostrich distracting him, allowing the lion to break out, and took several standing ovations, but as the crowd drifted homewards later - little did the know that a hungry lion was prowling beneath them.
The next day a police officer visited Bostock to congratulate him on his "pluck and daring", but was met with silence...until he blurted the truth out. Bostock cannily put a spin on it, insisting that his stunt with the imposter lion had quelled the public panic and that the city should actually be grateful to him!
Bostock demanded 500 police officers - their ranks swelled with volunteers from the public, who were instructed to bring weapons. On arrival at the muster point - at midnight to avoid panicking the public - Bostock noted that he'd never seen men as heavily armed, with pistols, rifles and cutlasses shoved into their belts.
The plan was to allow the lion to pass then to drop a big lasso down behind it, while Bostock would approach it face to face, pushing it back into the trap. This all went to plan until Bostock moved towards the agitated lion, which he did not want to shoot if he could help it. It was furious, and swiped at him. Bostock removed his riding boots then pulled them over his hands, while an iron cooking cauldron was pushed over his head. Protected thus, he moved in.
The lion swung but Bostock dodged it, returning the favour with his booted right hand. This pushed the big cat back into the lasso and the trap was sprung. With some difficulty he was hauled out of the sewer then into his cage, the public none the wiser. Or so Bostock claimed...
The truth was that Bostock sent two of his assistants down into the sewer, instructing them to use fireworks and horns to push the lion towards the trap, while he waited with a team to pull the ropes up. As the captured lion emerged a crowd of locals saw it, panicked, and ran for their lives. They banged on the doors of houses, begging to be let in, while others shimmied up lampposts. Not the heroic clash Bostock described later in his autobiography!
The area today is completely different to how it looked in 1889, most of it is a modern industrial estate, but the story of the lion in the sewers joins the canon of Birmingham city folklore.
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