Strikingly distinguished at the first glance from her royal mate by the absence of the flowing honours of the mane, which invest him with an air of superior dignity and gravity, the Lioness is also remarkable for her smaller size, her more slender and delicate make, and the superior grace and agility of her movements. Her inferiority in muscular strength to the Lion, and to him alone, is, however, fully compensated by the greater liveliness of her disposition, the unrestrained ardour of her passions, and the vigorous impetuosity of her motions, which all contribute to render her an equally formidable opponent with her more powerful, but less irritable, lord. They differ also in another obvious characteristic, the habitual position and direction of their heads, that of the Lion being almost uniformly elevated and thrown upwards with an air of mingled frankness and hauteur, agreeing well with the popular notions of his tranquil dignity of temper and deportment; while the Lioness as constantly carries her head on a level with the line of her back, thus giving to her otherwise expressive countenance a sullen and downcast look, and evincing a nearer approach to the inferior races of the feline tribe. This singular distinction appears to be in a great measure dependent on the absence of the mane; for it is observed that the young male cubs, until the period at which this badge of dignity begins to make its appearance, that is to say until they are about twelve months old, carry their heads in the same level position with the female.

It cannot be doubted that the lighter and slenderer shape of the Lioness, and her consequently greater activity, tend in an especial manner to the formation of that more lively and sensitive character by which all her actions are so strongly marked: but there is another cause, no less powerful than these, which operates with peculiar force, in the vivid excitability of her maternal feelings, which she cherishes with an ardour almost unparalleled in the history of any other animal. From the moment that she becomes a mother, the native ferocity of her disposition is renovated as it were with tenfold vigour; she watches over her young with that undefined dread of danger to their weak and defenceless state, and that suspicious eagerness of alarm, which keep her in a constant state of feverish excitation: and woe be to the wretched intruder, whether man or beast, who should unwarily at such a time approach the precincts of her sanctuary. Even in a state of captivity, and however completely she may have been previously subjected to the control of her keeper, she loses all respect for his commands, and abandons herself occasionally to the most violent paroxysms of rage.

Of this the individual Lioness now in the Tower affords a striking example. We have already observed in our account of the Lion that, for a considerable time after her arrival in England, she was so tame as to be allowed frequently to roam at large about the open yard; and even long after it had been judged expedient that this degree of liberty should no longer be granted, her disposition was far from exciting any particular fear in the minds of her keepers. As an instance of this, we may mention that when, on one occasion about a year and a half ago, she had been suffered through inadvertence to leave her den, and when she was by no means in good temper, George Willoughway, the under keeper, had the boldness, alone and armed only with a stick, to venture upon the task of driving her back into her place of confinement; which he finally accomplished, not however without strong symptoms of resistance on her part, as she actually made three springs upon him, all of which he was fortunate enough to avoid.

But from the period when she gave birth to her Cubs a total alteration has taken place in her temper and demeanour. She no longer suffers the least familiarity even on the part of her keepers, but gives full scope to the violence of her passions. Intent solely on providing for the security of her young, she imagines that the object of every person who approaches her den is to rob her of her treasures, over which she watches with almost sleepless anxiety, exhibiting the truly beautiful but appalling picture of maternal tenderness combined with savage ferocity, each in their utmost intensity of force and colouring.

The Cubs, which are three in number, two male and one female, were whelped on the 20th of October, 1827, the day of the battle of Navarino; and it is remarked by Mr. Cops, as a curious coincidence, that they are the only Lions which have been whelped in the Tower since the year 1794, rendered memorable by the great naval victory gained by Lord Howe over the French fleet. They are universally considered to be the finest ever bred in England, and are now in a most thriving condition. They have not, however, yet reached the period when the shedding of the milk-teeth takes place, a process which is perhaps more perilous to the brute creation than that of dentition to the offspring of the human race, and appears indeed to be attended with greater risks in proportion to the carnivorous propensities of the respective species. To the Lion it has always proved, at least in his state of captivity, a period of the greatest danger, very few individuals of the numerous whelps which have been produced either here or on the continent surviving its effects. Still there is good reason to hope, from the peculiarly healthy appearance of the present litter, that, by means of skilful management, the danger may be averted, and that a pair at least of these noble animals, “born and bred in England,” may in a few years rival their parents in size, in beauty, and in majesty.

The mother and her whelps are admirably represented in the spirited group of portraits which heads the present article. The latter have all the playfulness of kittens, and are fondled by their dam in a similar manner to that in which the domestic cat caresses her young. While they were small enough she carried them from place to place in her mouth, and showed the greatest solicitude to keep them from the view of strangers; and even now that they are grown too large for this mode of treatment, she continues to pay the strictest attention to the cleanliness of their persons, and licks their fur, as they tumble about her, with all the matronly dignity and gravity of an accomplished nurse.

The Cubs have hitherto exhibited very faint traces of the striped livery which is generally characteristic of the Lion’s whelp; but it is highly probable that when they lose their winter coat, this marking may become more obvious, although, on account of their advancing age, it will never show itself with that distinctness which has been observed in other instances. It consists of a blackish band, extending along the centre of the back, from the head almost to the extremity of the tail, and branching off into numerous other bands of the same colour, which are parallel to each other, and pass across the upper parts of the sides and tail. The very young lion consequently bears no small resemblance to the tiger; a circumstance which it is interesting to remark as one which furnishes additional evidence of the close affinity of these formidable animals. The colouring of its bands is, however, much less intense; and in addition to these it possesses on the head and on the limbs numerous irregular spots of a darker hue than the rest of the fur, which are never found in the neighbouring species. On the limbs of the present Cubs these spots and blotches are distinctly visible amidst the rough and half shaggy coat which covers them, and which is not exchanged for the smooth and sleek fur, with which they are subsequently invested, until they approach their full growth. As they advance towards the adult age, which takes place in the fifth or sixth year, the livery gradually disappears, and is then usually entirely lost. The Lioness herself, however, still retains some trifling vestiges of it. The Cubs are, as usual, destitute of the longer hairs which form the tuft at the extremity of the tail of the adult, which in them tapers to a black tip. Their voice is at present perfectly similar to the mewing of a cat; and it is not until they reach the age of eighteen months that it changes into that peculiar roar which afterwards becomes so tremendous. At that age the mane has already attained considerable developement. This appendage begins to make its appearance in the males when they are ten or twelve months old, having at first the shape of a slight frill or ruff, but gradually becoming more and more extensive, and at length assuming that striking form which gives to the full grown animal a graceful and dignified, and to the more aged a reverend and majestic, air.