THE ANIMAL ATTIC IN DUNEDIN’S OTAGO MUSEUM IS ONE OF THOSE PLACES THAT IS BOTH MAGICAL AND UNSETTLING AT THE SAME TIME.
DATING FROM 1877, IT IS ORGANISED LIKE A VICTORIAN NATURAL HISTORY MUSEUM OR THE PRIVATE COLLECTION OF A GENTLEMEN OF MEANS WHO HAD THE INCLINATION TO PURSUE THINGS SCIENTIFIC. IT IS AN ODE TO TAXONOMY AND DARWINISM AND TO A TIME WHEN WESTERN CULTURE WAS TURNING AWAY FROM RELIGION AND TOWARDS EVIDENCE-BASED INQUIRY. IT IS ALSO FULL OF DEAD THINGS, CREATURES ONE PRESUMES WERE KILLED BY THE PEOPLE WHO COLLECTED THEM. THERE WE HUMANS ARE, STUFFING AND PRESERVING THAT WHICH WE ARE PUTTING AN END TO.
Either way, it is incredible. There are more than 2000 objects in the Animal Attic, including nearly 500 taxidermied animals, 1321 “pinned specimens”, and a range of pickled critters (or parts of critters). There are jars containing a whale’s eyeball, a lot of snakes and one particularly disturbing “rat king”. There are also two lions. And boy, do they have a backstory.
It was a quiet Thursday evening in March of 1978. The small Clutha township of Lawrence was being treated to a visit by Carlos’ Circus. About 400 people had settled into the large tent erected at one end of Simpson Park reserve, ready for an evening of old-school ringed entertainment: dancing elephants, trained lions, rings of fire, that sort of thing. Then, about 10 minutes into the show, a small man stepped out to centre stage and told the audience there would be a delay. Could they please “move quietly out to your cars.”
Carlos’ Circus travelled with three lions, Suzy, Sonia and Sultan. Suzy was performing at the time of the announcement, while the other two waited in their cages. But the usual “lion attendant” (imagine having that on your business card) was off sick, so a new hire had been brought in to run the big cats. There was, it seems, a problem with the bolting of the cages. Bolting ensued.
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Word started to spread as the audience left. Two lions had escaped! It was all very orderly, considering. Most people went to their cars and locked themselves inside for safety, while those without vehicles were sent to shelter in the Lawrence Area School next door.
“There was, it seems, a problem with the bolting of the cages”
Meanwhile, on the other side of the park, the first rugby practice of the season was under way. As one player, Paul Otoway, told the local press at the time: “I looked up and saw two lions ambling towards us about 100 metres away. ‘They’re real lions,’ I said, and we jogged off smartly.” Fortunately, the boys were in good shape. According to a Radio NZ story, Des Dougherty, the senior coach, described how one player in a yellow tracksuit “was like a shooting star when he took off.” (Speaking of rugby, as a newspaper Op Ed later put it: “The retreat by New Zealanders in the face of this real or imagined threat would surely give the British Lions rugby team cause for some hilarity and not a little encouragement for future contests.”)|
“It was a surprising turn of affairs for the town’s residents”
The sportsmen were unscathed, but a local youngster was less fortunate. In the confusion of the evacuation, Sonia knocked six-year-old Craig Grant to the ground and left a 7.5-centimetre gash in his face. He was sent to Dunedin Hospital, and left with 30 stitches, a permanent scar, and a pretty cool tale to tell.
Meanwhile, there were two wildcats loose on the street of Lawrence, and not a whole lot of protocol in place for dealing with the scenario. It was a surprising turn of affairs for the town’s residents. One woman remembered how she looked out her window and exclaimed: “my god, there’s a lion just walked past my front door.” Others recalled sheltering in random vehicles, while the newspaper deliveryman got a call telling him not to deliver the papers in the morning because “the lions might like horse meat.”
Constable Mike Lodge had recently transferred from Auckland to Lawrence. He was looking for a quieter gig for himself and his beloved police dog, Jay. When he got a call from the school headmaster alerting him about the lions, he didn’t believe it at first. After all, when there’s a new cop in town, there’s bound to be a practical joke or two.
Unfortunately, it was true, and the animals needed to be dealt too. A boy had been hurt, and circus manager Russell Harris issued the order to destroy the lions. Sultan was cornered first, and Constable Mike had the unfortunate job of shooting him with his .223 calibre rifle. It was a bitter pill for him, an animal lover, to swallow. Sonia managed to evade her pursuers for further 40 minutes (accounts describe her having a bit of a tiki tour of the town, poking about in a garage or two, peering into cars and having a rest on someone’s front porch.) She almost survived; tranquiliser darts were brought in, but they were either the wrong kind, or faulty, or both. By the time Sonia was shot, she had been on the lam for two hours.
Weirdly, the lion escape is probably only the second-most famous thing to have happened in the town. ‘God Defend New Zealand’, the country’s English-language national anthem, was composed by Thomas Bracken of Lawrence.
The Lawrence lions got a lot of press though, and still do. A children’s book about their adventures, The Lawrence Lions by Clare Blackmore, was published in 2012, and they are honoured in a mural on Dunedin’s George Street, painted by the artist Bruce Mahalski. The Tuapeka Goldfields Museum in Lawrence has an extensive archive of information about the events of that evening in 1978, and a plaque went up in Simpson Park to mark the 40th anniversary of the great escape.
But the most poignant monument to the Lawrence Lions is Sonia and Sultan themselves. Thanks to funds raised through a public appeal, the animals were taxidermied and gifted to the Otago Museum for the Animal Attic. They are there to this day, preserved, in a way.
LAURA WILLIAMSON
