A HUNDRED YEARS AGO
True Tales of the Year 1806.
VIII.—THE CLOWN'S PET BEAR.
The chief attraction of the Royal Circus, London, in the year 1806, was the clever performances of a young black bear belonging to one of the clowns—Mr. Bradbury. This bear was so tame that it had travelled from Liverpool to London with its master on the top of the coach, and had made great friends with its fellow-travellers.
After the bear had gone through its performances at the circus, its master used to reward it by taking the docile beast to a coffee-house, and here it would sit amongst the company with a tall hat on its head, and eat and drink in a truly dignified fashion.
This bear was never muzzled, for it was so gentle that the children of the neighbourhood would fearlessly romp and play with it, and it was so devoted to its master that it would follow him about like a dog.
There came a day, however, when Mr. Bradbury was suddenly summoned to Manchester, and during his absence he left the bear in charge of a man who promised to take good care of it. This promise he did not keep. The poor animal was shamefully neglected, and kept so short of food that hunger drove it at last to desperation, and one night, breaking loose from its chain, it made its way into a yard and killed a dog.
The piteous howls of the dog aroused the neighbourhood and brought several people to the spot. The first was one of the carpenters of the circus; the bear instantly pounced on him, but the man, with a sudden wrench, shook himself free,—leaving his coat behind him, however. The bear next attacked a goat, and then, seeing a boy of about thirteen amongst the crowd (for boys a hundred years ago were always foremost in a crowd, as they are to-day) the infuriated animal pursued him, overtook him, and fastened upon him from behind, with its two paws on his shoulders; and before a spectator with a gun managed to shoot the bear, the poor lad was almost scalped.
He was at once taken off to the hospital, and, in time, recovered from his injuries; but when Mr. Bradbury returned from Manchester, all that was left of his pet was the shaggy skin and a large supply of pots of bear's grease in a neighbouring hairdresser's window.