The Wild Cat Of Britain

The wild cat is said to be now extinct in England, and only found in

some of the northern parts of Scotland, or the rocky parts of the

mountains of the south, where I am informed it may yet occasionally be

seen. The drawing I give above was made from one sent to the first

Crystal Palace Cat Show in 1871, by the Duke of Sutherland, from

Sutherlandshire. It was caught in a trap by the fore-leg, which was much

injured, bu not so as to prevent its moving with great alacrity, even

with agility, endeavouring frequently to use the claws of both fore-feet

with a desperate determination and amazing vigour. It was a very

powerful animal, possessing great strength, taking size into

consideration, and of extraordinary fierceness.



Mr. Wilson, the manager of the show, though an excellent naturalist,

tried to get it out of the thick-barred, heavy-made travelling box in

which it arrived, into one of the ordinary wire show-cages, thinking it

would appear to better advantage; but in this endeavour he was

unsuccessful, the animal resisting all attempts to expel it from the one

into the other, making such frantic and determined opposition that the

idea was abandoned. This was most fortunate, for the wire cages then in

use were afterwards found unequal to confining even the ordinary

domestic cat, which, in more than one instance, forced the bars apart

sufficiently to allow of escape. As it was, the wild cat maintained its

position, sullenly retiring to one corner of the box, where it scowled,

growled, and fought in a most fearful and courageous manner during the

time of its exhibition, never once relaxing its savage watchfulness or

attempts to injure even those who fed it. I never saw anything more

unremittingly ferocious, nor apparently more untamable.



It was a grand animal, however, and most interesting to the naturalist,

being, even then, scarcely ever seen; if so, only in districts far away

and remote from the dwellings of civilisation. Yet I believe I saw one

among the rocks of Bodsbeck, in Dumfriesshire, many years ago, though of

this I am not certain, as it was too far away for accurate observation

before it turned and stood at bay, and on my advancing it disappeared.

The animal shown at the Crystal Palace was very much lighter in colour,

and with less markings than those in the British Museum, the tail

shorter, and the dark rings fewer, the lines on the body not much deeper

in tint than the ground colour, excepting on the forehead and the inside

of the fore-legs, which were darker, rather a light red round the mouth,

and almost white on the chest--which appears to be usual with the wild

cat; the eyes were yellow-tinted green, the tips of the ears, the lips,

cushions of the feet, and a portion of the back part of the hind-legs,

black; the markings were, in short, irregular thin lines, and in no way

resembled those of the ordinary black-marked domestic tabby cat,

possessing little elegance of line--in character it was bolder, having

a rugged sturdiness, being stronger and broader built, the fore-arms

thick, massive, and endowed with great power, with long, curved claws,

the feet were stout, sinewy, and strong; altogether it was a very

peculiar, interesting, and extraordinary animal. What became of it I

never learned.



In 1871 and 1872, a wild cat was exhibited at the Crystal Palace Cat

Show, by the Earl of Hopetoun, aged three years, also some hybrid

kittens, the father of which was a long-haired cat, the mother a sandy,

by a wild cat out of a long-haired tabby, which proves, if proof were

wanting, that such hybrids breed freely either with hybrids, the

domestic, or the wild cat.



Mr. Frank Buckland also exhibited a hybrid between the wild and tame

cat.



The Zoological Society, a pair of wild cats which did not appear to be

British.



In 1873, Mr. A. H. Senger sent a fine specimen of hybrid, between the

domestic cat and Scotch wild cat.



An early description of the wild cat in England is to be found in an old

book on Natural History, and copied into a work on "Menageries,"

"Bartholomoeus de Proprietatibus Rerum," which was translated into

English by Thomas Berthlet, and printed by Wynkyn de Worde as early as

1498. There is a very interesting description of the cat, which gives

nearly all the properties of the wild animal in an odd and very amusing

way. It states: "He is most like to the leopard, and hath a great

mouthe, and saw teeth and sharp, and long tongue, and pliant, thin, and

subtle; and lappeth therewith when he drinketh, as other beasts do, that

have the nether lip shorter than the over; for, by cause of unevenness

of lips, such beasts suck not in drinking, but lap and lick, as

Aristotle saith and Plinius also. And he is a full lecherous beast in

youth, swift, pliant, and merry, and leapeth, and riseth on all things

that is tofore him; and is led by a straw, and playeth therewith, and is

a right heavy beast in age, and full sleepy, and lieth slyly in wait for

mice; and is ware where they bene more by smell than by sight, and

hunteth and riseth on them in privy places; and when he taketh a mouse,

he playeth therewith, and eateth him after the play; and is a cruel

beast when he is wild, and dwelleth in woods, and hunteth there small

wild beasts as conies and hares."



The next appears in John Bossewell's "Workes of Armorie," folio, A.D.

1597:



"This beaste is called a Musion, for that he is enimie to Myse

and Rattes. He is slye and wittie, and seeth so sharpely that he

overcommeth darknes of the nighte by the shyninge lyghte of his

eyne. In shape of body he is like unto a Leoparde, and hathe a

great mouth. He dothe delight that he enioyeth his libertye; and

in his youthe he is swifte, plyante, and merye. He maketh a

rufull noyse and a gastefull when he profereth to fighte with an

other. He is a cruell beaste when he is wilde, and falleth on his

owne feete from most high places: and vneth is hurt therewith.



"When he hath a fayre skinne, he is, as it were, prowde thereof,

and then he goeth faste aboute to be seene...."



Those who have seen the wild cat of Britain, especially in

confinement, will doubtless be ready to endorse this description

as being "true to the life," even to the "rufull noyse," or his

industry in the way of fighting. Yet even this old chronicler

mentions the fact of his being "wilde," clearly indicating a

similar animal in a state of domestication. Later on we find

Maister Salmon giving an account of the cat in his

strangely-curious book, "Salmon's Compleat English Physician; or,

the Druggist's Shop Opened," A.D. 1693, in which he relates that

marvellous properties exist in the brain, bones, etc., of the

cat, giving recipes mostly cruel and incredible. He describes

"Catus the Cat" in such terms as these:



"The Cat of Mountain, all which are of one nature, and agree

much in one shape, save as to their magnitude, the wild Cat

being larger than the Tame and the Cat of Mountain much

larger than the wild Cat. It has a broad Face, almost like a

Lyon, short Ears, large Whiskers, shining Eyes, short, smooth

Hair, long Tail, rough Tongue, and armed on its Feet, with

Claws, being a crafty, subtle, watchful Creature, very loving and

familiar with Man-kind, the mortal enemy to the Rat, Mouse, and

all sorts of Birds, which it seizes on as its prey. As to its

Eyes, Authors say that they shine in the Night, and see better at

the full, and more dimly at the change of the moon; as also that

the Cat doth vary his Eyes with the Sun, the Apple of its Eye

being long at Sun rise, round towards Noon, and not to be seen at

all at night, but the whole Eye shining in the night. These

appearances of the Cats' Eyes I am sure are true, but whether

they answer to the times of the day, I never observed." "Its

flesh is not usually eaten, yet in some countries it is accounted

an excellent dish."



Mr. Blaine, in his excellent and useful work, the "Encyclopaedia of Rural

Sports"--a book no sportsman should be without--thus discusses the

origin of the domestic cat compared with the British wild cat:



"We have yet, however, to satisfy ourselves with regard to the

origin of the true wild cat (Felis catus, Linn.), which,

following the analogies of the Felinae generally, are almost

exclusively native to countries warmer than our own. It is true

that occasionally varieties of the Felinae do breed in our

caravans and menageries, where artificial warmth is kept up to

represent something like a tropical temperature; but the

circumstance is too rare to ground any opinion on of their ever

having been indigenous here--at least, since our part of the

globe has cooled down to its present temperature. It is,

therefore, more than probable that both the wild and the tame cat

have been derived from some other extra-European source or

sources. We say source or sources, for such admission begets

another difficulty not easily got over, which is this, that if

both of these grimalkins own one common root, in which variety

was it that the very marked differences between them have taken

place? Most sportsmen, we believe, suspect that they own one

common origin, and some naturalists also do the same, contending

that the differences observable between them are attributable

solely to the long-continued action of external agencies, which

had modified the various organs to meet the varied necessities of

the animals. The wild cat, according to this theory, having to

contend with powerful enemies, expanded in general dimensions;

its limbs, particularly, became massive; and its long and strong

claws, with the powerful muscular mechanism which operated on

them, fitted it for a life of predacity. Thus its increased size

enabled it to stand some time before any other dogs than

high-bred foxhounds, and even before them also, in any place but

the direct open ground. There exist, however, in direct

contradiction to this opinion, certain specialities proper to the

wild, and certain other to the domestic cat, besides the simple

expansion of bulk, which sufficiently disprove their identity. It

will be seen that a remarkable difference exists between the

tails of the two animals; that of the domestic being, as is well

known, long, and tapering elegantly to a point, whereas that of

the wild cat is seen to be broad, and to terminate abruptly in a

blunt or rounded extremity. Linnaeus and Buffon having both of

them confounded these two species into one, have contributed much

to propagate this error, which affords us another opportunity of

adding to the many we have taken of remarking on the vast

importance of comparative anatomy, which enables us to draw just

distinctions between animals that might otherwise erroneously be

adjudged to be dependent on external agencies, etc. Nor need we

rest here, for what doubt can be entertained on the subject when

we point at the remarkable difference between the intestines of

the two? Those of the domestic are nine times the length of its

body, whereas, in the wild cat, they are little more than

three times as long as the body."



The food of the wild cat is said to consist of animals, and in the

opinion of some, fish should be added. Why not also birds' eggs? Cats

are particularly fond of the latter. In the event of their finding and

destroying a nest, they invariably eat the eggs, and generally the

shells.



Much has been written as to the aptitude of the domestic cat at catching

fish. If this be so, are fish necessarily a part of the food of the

native wild cat? Numerous instances are adduced of our "household cat"

plunging into water in pursuit of and capture of fish. Although I have

spent much time in watching cats that were roaming beside streams and

about ponds, there has never been even an attempt at "fishing." Frogs

they will take and kill, often greedily devouring the small ones. Yet

doubtless they will hunt, catch, and eat fish, for the fact has become

proverbial.






A writer in "Menageries" states: "There is no doubt that wild cats will

seize on fish, and the passionate longing of the domestic cat after this

food is an evidence of the natural desire. We have seen a cat overcome

her natural reluctance to wet her feet, and take an eel out of a pail of

water." Dr. Darwin alludes to this propensity: "Mr. Leonard, a very

intelligent friend of mine, saw a cat catch a trout by darting on it in

deep, clear water, at the Mill, Wexford, near Lichfield. The cat

belonged to Mr. Stanley, who had often seen it catch fish."



Cases have also been known of cats catching fish in shallow water,

springing on them from the banks of streams and ponds; but I take this

as not the habit of the domestic cat, though it is not unusual.



Gray, in a poem, tells of a cat's death through drowning, while

attempting to take gold-fish from a vase filled with water.



Of Dr. Samuel Johnson it is related, that his cat having fallen sick and

refused all food, he became aware that cats are fond of fish. With this

knowledge before him he went to the fishmonger's and bought an oyster

for the sick creature, wrapped it in paper and brought the appetising

morsel home. The cat relished the dainty food, and the Doctor was seen

going on the same kindly errand every day until his suffering feline

friend was restored to health.



Still this is no proof that the wild cat, in a pure state of nature,

feeds on fish. Again, it is nothing unusual for domestic cats to catch

and eat cockroaches, crickets, cockchafers, also large and small moths,

but not so all. In domesticity some are almost omnivorous. But is the

wild cat? Taking its anatomical structure into consideration, there is

doubtless a wide distinction, both as regards food and habit.



In Daniel's "Rural Sports," A.D. 1813, the wild cat is stated to be "now

scarce in England, inhabiting the mountainous and woody parts. Mr.

Pennant describes it as four times the size of the house cat, but the

head larger, that it multiplies as fast, and may be called the British

tiger, being the fiercest and most destructive beast we have. When

only wounded with shot they will attack the person who injured them, and

often have strength enough to be no despicable enemy."



Through the kind courtesy of that painstaking, excellent, observant, and

eminent naturalist, Mr. J. E. Harting, I am enabled to reprint a portion

of his lecture on the origin of the domestic cat, and which afterwards

appeared in The Field. Although many of the statements are known to

naturalists, still I prefer giving them in the order in which they are

so skilfully arranged, presenting, as they do, a very garland of facts

connected with the British wild cat (Felis catus) up to the present,

and which I deem valuable from many points of view, but the more

particularly as a record of an animal once abundant in England, where it

has now apparently almost, if not quite, ceased to exist.





"In England in former days, the wild cat was included amongst the beasts

of chase, and is often mentioned in royal grants giving liberty to

inclose forest land and licence to hunt there (extracts from several

such grants will be found in the Zoologist for 1878, p. 251, and 1880,

p. 251). Nor was it for diversion alone that the wild cat was hunted.

Its fur was much used as trimming for dresses, and in this way was worn

even by nuns at one time. Thus, in Archbishop Corboyle's 'Canons,' anno

1127, it is ordained 'that no abbess or nun use more costly apparel than

such as is made of lambs' or cats' skins,' and as no other part of the

animal but the skin was of any use here, it grew into a proverb that

'You can have nothing of a cat but her skin.'



"The wild cat is believed to be now extinct, not only in England and

Wales, but in a great part of the south of Scotland. About five years

ago a Scottish naturalist resident in Stirlingshire (Mr. J. A. Harvie

Brown) took a great deal of trouble, by means of printed circulars

addressed to the principal landowners throughout Scotland and the Isles,

to ascertain the existing haunts of the wild cat in that part of the

United Kingdom. The result of his inquiries, embodying some very

interesting information, was published in the Zoologist for January,

1881. The replies which he received indicated pretty clearly, although

perhaps unexpectedly, that there are now no wild cats in Scotland south

of a line drawn from Oban on the west coast up the Brander Pass to

Dalmally, and thence following the borders of Perthshire to the junction

of the three counties of Perth, Forfar and Aberdeen, northward to

Tomintoul, and so to the city of Inverness. We are assured that it is

only to the northward and westward of this line that the animal still

keeps a footing in suitable localities, finding its principal shelter

in the great deer forests. Thus we see that the wild cat is being

gradually driven northward before advancing civilisation and the

increased supervision of moors and forests. Just as the reindeer in the

twelfth century was driven northward from England and found its last

home in Caithness, and as the wolf followed it a few centuries later, so

we may expect one day that the wild cat will come to be numbered amongst

the 'extinct British animals.'



"A recent writer in the new edition of the 'Encyclopaedia Britannica'

(art. Cat) expresses the opinion that the wild cat still exists in

Wales and in the north of England, but gives no proof of its recent

occurrence there. From time to time we see reports in the newspapers to

the effect that a wild cat has been shot or trapped in some

out-of-the-way part of the country; but it usually turns out to be a

large example of the domestic cat, coloured like the wild form. It is

remarkable that when cats in England are allowed to return to a feral

state, their offspring, in the course of generations, show a tendency to

revert to the wild type of the country; partly, no doubt, in consequence

of former interbreeding with the wild species when the latter was common

throughout all the wooded portions of the country, and partly because

the light-coloured varieties of escaped cats, being more readily seen

and destroyed, are gradually eliminated, while the darker wild type is

perpetuated. The great increase in size observable in the offspring of

escaped domestic cats is no doubt due to continuous living on

freshly-killed, warm-blooded animals, and to the greater use of the

muscles which their new mode of life requires. In this way I think we

may account for the size and appearance of the so-called 'wild cats'

which are from time to time reported south of the Tweed.



"Perhaps the last genuine wild cat seen in England was the one shot by

Lord Ravensworth at Eslington, Northumberland, in 1853;[A] although so

recently as March, 1883, a cat was shot in Bullington Wood,

Lincolnshire, which in point of size, colour, and markings was said to

be quite indistinguishable from the wild Felis catus. Bullington Wood

is one of an almost continuous chain of great woodlands, extending from

Mid-Lincolnshire to near Peterborough. Much of the district has never

been preserved for game, and keepers are few and far between; hence the

wild animals have enjoyed an almost complete immunity from persecution.

Cats are known to have bred in these woods in a wild state for

generations, and there is no improbability that the cat in question may

have descended directly from the old British wild cat. Under all the

circumstances, however, it seems more likely to be a case of reversion

under favourable conditions from the domestic to the wild type.



[A] "Trans. Tyneside Nat. Field Club," 1864, vol. vi. p. 123.



"In Ireland, strange to say, notwithstanding reports to the contrary,

all endeavours to find a genuine wild cat have failed, the so-called

'wild cat' of the natives proving to be the 'marten cat,' a very

different animal.



"We thus come back to the question with which we started, namely, the

question of origin of the domestic cat; and the conclusion, I think, at

which we must arrive is, that although Felis catus has contributed to

the formation of the existing race of domestic cats, it is not the sole

ancestor. Several wild species of Egyptian and Indian origin having been

ages ago reclaimed, the interbreeding of their offspring and crossing

with other wild species in the countries to which they have been at

various times exported, has resulted in the gradual production of the

many varieties, so different in shape and colour, with which we are now

familiar."



Before quitting the subject, I would point to the fact that when the

domestic cat takes to the woods and becomes wild, it becomes much

larger, stronger, and changes in colour; and there can be little doubt

that during the centuries of the existence of the cat in England there

must have been numberless crosses and intercrosses, both with regard to

the males of the domestic cat as with wild females, and vice

versa; yet the curious fact remains that the wild cat still retains its

peculiar colouring and form, as is shown by the skins preserved in the

British Museum and elsewhere.



Mr. Darwin, in his "Voyage of the Beagle," 1845 (p. 120), in his notes

of the first colonists of La Plata, A.D. 1535, says, among other animals

that he saw was "the common cat altered into a large and fierce

animal, inhabiting the rocky hills," etc.



Another point on which I wish to give my impressions is the act of the

cat in what is termed "sharpening its claws." Mr. Darwin notes certain

trees where the jaguars "sharpen their claws," and mentions the scars

were of different ages; he also thought they did this "to tear off the

horny points." This, I believe, is the received opinion among

naturalists; but I differ entirely from this view of the practice. It

is a fact, however, and worthy of notice, that all cats do so, even the

domestic cat. I had one of the legs of a kitchen table entirely torn

to pieces by my cats; and after much observation I came to the

conclusion that it has nothing whatever to do with sharpening the

claws, but is done to stretch the muscles and tendons of the feet so

that they work readily and strongly, as the retraction of the claws for

lengthened periods must tend to contract the tendons used for the

purpose of extending or retracting; therefore the cats fix the points of

their claws in something soft, and bear downwards with the whole weight

of the body, simply to stretch and, by use, to strengthen the ligatures

that pull the claws forward. It is also to be noted that even the

domestic cat goes to one particular place or tree to insert the claws

and drag forward the muscles--perhaps even in the leather of an

arm-chair, a costly practice. Why one object is always selected is that

they may not betray their presence by numerous marks in the

neighbourhood, if wild, to other animals or their enemies. I have

mentioned this to my brother, John Jenner Weir, F.L.S., and he concurs

with me throughout.



I find in Strutt's "Sports and Pastimes" that of the names applied to

companies of animals in the Middle Ages, several are still in use,

though many have become obsolete; and also a few of the beasts have

ceased to exist in a wild state. Some were very curious, such as a

skulk of foxes, a cete of badgers, a huske or down of hares, a

nest of rabbits, and a clowder of cats, and a kindle of young

cats. Now cats are said to kitten, and rabbits kindle.



The following shows the value of the cat nearly a thousand years ago; it

is to be found in Bewick's "Quadrupeds": "In the time of Hoel the Good,

King of Wales, who died in the year 948, laws were made as well to

preserve as to fix the different prices of animals; among which the cat

is included, as being at that period of great importance, on account of

its scarcity and utility.



"The price of a kitten, before it could see, was fixed at one penny;

till proof could be given of its having caught a mouse, twopence; after

which it was rated at fourpence, which was a great sum in those days,

when the value of specie was extremely high. It was likewise required

that it should be perfect in its sense of hearing and seeing, should be

a good mouser, have its claws whole, and, if a female, be a careful

nurse. If it failed in any of these good qualities, the seller was to

forfeit to the buyer a third part of its value. If any one should steal

or kill a cat that guarded the Prince's granary, he was either to

forfeit a milch ewe, her fleece and lamb, or as much wheat as when

poured on the cat suspended by its feet (its head touching the floor),

would form a heap high enough to cover the tip of the former." Bewick

remarks: "Hence we may conclude that cats were not originally natives of

these islands, and from the great care taken to improve the breed of

this prolific creature, we may suppose were but little known at that

period."



I scarcely think this the right conclusion, the English wild cat being

anatomically different. In Hone's popular works it is stated that "Cats

are supposed to have been brought into England from the island of Cyprus

by some foreign merchants, who came hither for tin." Mr. Hone further

says: "Wild cats were kept by our ancient kings for hunting. The

officers who had charge of these cats seem to have had appointments of

equal consequence with the masters of the king's hounds; they were

called Catatores."



Beaumont and Fletcher in The Scornful Lady allude to the hunting of

cats in the line,



"Bring out the cat-hounds, I'll make you take a tree."



But although large and ferocious, the wild cat was not considered a

match for some of the lesser animals, for in Salmon's "English

Physician," 1693, we read that "The weasel is an enemy to ravens, crows,

and cats, and although cats may sometimes set upon them, yet they can

scarcely overcome them."



Nevertheless, we find in Daniel's "Rural Sports," 1813, that "Wild

cats formerly were an object of sport to huntsmen. Thus, Gerard

Camvile, 6 John, had special licence to hunt the hare, fox, and wild

cat, throughout all the King's forests; and 23 Henry III., Earl

Warren, by giving Simon de Pierpont a goshawk, obtained leave to hunt

the buck, doe, hart, hind, hare, fox, goat, cat, or any other wild

beast, in certain lands of Simon's. But it was not for diversion alone

that this animal was pursued; for the skin was much used by the nuns

in their habits, as a fur."



Still it appears from Mr. Charles Darwin's "Voyage of the Beagle," that

tastes vary. "Doctor Shaw was laughed at for stating the flesh of the

lion is in great esteem, having no small affinity with veal, both in the

colour, taste, and flavour. Such certainly is the case with the puma.

The Guachos differ in their opinion whether the jaguar is good eating;

but were unanimous in saying the cat is excellent."



It is also stated that the Chinese fatten and eat cats with considerable

relish; but of this I can obtain no reliable information, some of my

friends from China not having heard of the custom, if such it is.



Again referring to the skin of the cat, vide Strutt: "In the

thirty-seventh year of the reign of Edward III., it was decreed, after

enumerating the various kinds of cloth that were to be worn by the

nobles, knights, dames, and others, that (Article 2) tradesmen,

artificers, and men in office, called yeomen, their wives and children,

shall wear no kind of furs excepting those of lambs, of rabbits, of

cats, and of foxes." Further: "No man, unless he be possessed of the

yearly value of forty shillings, shall wear any furs but black and white

lambs' skins." Lambs' and cats' skins were equivalent in value and

order.



In the twenty-second year of this monarch's reign, all the former

statutes "against excess in apparel" were repealed.



My old friend Fairholt, in his useful work on costume, says of the

Middle Ages: "The peasants wore cat skins, badger skins, etc."



One of the reasons why the skin of cats was used on cloaks and other

garments for trimming, being that it showed humility in dress, and not

by way of affectation or vanity, but for warmth and comfort, it being of

the lowest value of any, with the exception of lambs' skin and badgers';

and adopted by some priests as well as nuns, when wishing to impress

others with their deep sense of humility in all things, even to their

wearing-apparel. The proof of which Strutt's "Habits of the

Anglo-Normans," circa twelfth century, fully illustrates:



"William of Malmesbury, speaking of Wulfstan, Bishop of Worcester,

assures us that he avoided all appearance of pride and ostentation in

his dress, and though he was very wealthy, he never used any furs finer

than lambs' skin for the lining of his garments. Being blamed for such

needless humility by Geoffrey, Bishop of Constans, who told him that 'He

not only could afford, but even ought to wear those of sables, of

beavers, or of foxes,' he replied: 'It may indeed be proper for you

politicians, skilful in the affairs of the world, to adorn yourselves in

the skins of such cunning animals; but for me, who am a plain man, and

not subject to change my opinion, the skins of lambs are quite

sufficient.' 'If,' returned his opponent, 'the finer furs are

unpleasant, you might at least make use of those of the cat.' 'Believe

me,' answered the facetious prelate, 'the lamb of God is much oftener

sung in the Church than the cat of God.' This witty retort put Geoffrey

to the blush, and threw the whole company into a violent fit of

laughter."



Of a very different character was the usage of the cat at clerical

festivals. In Mill's "History of the Crusades," one reads with some

degree of horror that "In the Middle Ages the cat was a very important

personage in religious festivals. At Aix, in Provence, on the festival

of the Corpus Christi, the finest he-cat of the country, wrapped like a

child in swaddling clothes, was exhibited in a magnificent shrine to

public admiration. Every knee was bent, every hand strewed flowers or

poured incense; and pussy was treated in all respects as the god of the

day. On the festival, however, of St. John (June 24), the poor cat's

fate was reversed. A number of cats were put in a wicker basket, and

thrown alive into the midst of a large fire, kindled in the public

square by the bishop and his clergy. Hymns and anthems were sung, and

processions were made by the priests and people in honour of the

sacrifice."



While the foregoing was about being printed, Mr. Edward Hamilton, M.D.,

writing to The Field, May 11th, 1889, gives information of a wild cat

being shot in Inverness-shire. I therefore insert the paragraph, as

every record of so scarce an animal is of importance and value,

especially when it is descriptive. He states: "A fine specimen of the

wild cat (Felis sylvestris) was sent to me on May 3rd, trapped in

Inverness-shire on the Ben Nevis range. It was too much decomposed to

exhibit. Its dimensions were: from nose to base of tail, 1 foot 11

inches; length of tail, 1 foot; height at shoulder, 1 foot 2 inches; the

length of small intestine, 1 foot 8-1/2 inches; and the large intestine, 1

foot 1 inch." It will be seen by these measurements that the animal was

not so large as some that have been taken, though excelling in size many

of the domestic varieties.