HAMLYN'S MENAGERIE MAGAZINE. 
me to complete my contract. This steamer, if I 
remember rig-htly, was the ss. "Pleiades," the two 
traders were the butcher and the cook. On its 
arrival at Gravesend I found 150 Rhesus and 20 
Bonnet monkeys. My contract price was £40 
hundred with these two men. Whilst negotiating 
telegrams were handed them; the cook read his 
with a smile. He consulted with his partner. 
Would I give what they had been offered by wire? 
"By whom?" I enquired. They handed me the 
telegram to read. To my surprise it was as fol- 
lows : — 
"Chief Cook, ss. 'Pleiades,' c/o Agents, 
Gravesend. Would you accept hundred pounds 
for 100 monkeys, to be in fair condition, if so 
telegraph particulars to General Manager, 
Alexandra Palace. Reply paid." 
Considering I was the general manager for 
Brooke's Show, I considered that telegram ex- 
tremely funny. However, I did not inform them 
of that particular fact. I was not surprised at the 
contents of this telegram, I understood that it 
emanated from a jealous rival who desired to spoil 
my market. 
I suggested to the cook he should wire back 
accepting the offer providing clearance of the 
animals was made before ten o'clock the following 
morning, and that a deposit of £10 was made by 
post. Failing a satisfactory answer I was to pro- 
cure the stock at our original price; to ensure good 
faith on my part I would deposit £5 with the cook, 
to clear same the following day in the Albert 
Docks. That was agreed upon. I hastened back 
to the Palace straight away. On entering the 
offices I was handed the cook's, telegram which 
had somewhat puzzled the officials there. I im- 
mediately wired stating that no monkeys were re- 
quired, and that no telegram had been sent by the 
Palace Authorities to the ss. " Pleiades. " Return- 
ing home I received a wire from the steamer ask- 
ing immediate clearance of the monkeys, which 
was accordingly done. The cook and myself were 
well aware from which dealer this precious docu- 
ment emanated; still it failed in its purpose. By 
private arrivals with the above, the 1,000 had been 
reached. I was relieved: of all anxiety for on the 
Opening Day there was a certified number of 
1,020. 
I had the extreme pleasure of showing round the 
late Mr. A. D. Bartleet from the Zoological Gar- 
dens on the opening day. He gave me his personal 
assurance that it was the finest collection of Apes 
that he had ever seen, and that many years would 
pass before a similar collection would ever be 
shown. That statement coming from the finest 
naturalist of the day was the greatest compliment 
I ever received. 
The caretaking and feeding and management of 
such a vast number entailed great anxiety. The 
food consumed was enormous. Five keepers were 
continually kept busy looking after their charges. 
The mortality was ordinary, and occurred princi- 
pally with the common varieties. Unfortunately, 
we also lost several of the Anthropoid Apes, Chim- 
panzees, etc. Towards the close of the season, I 
received an enquiry from Sir E. H. Currie, Secre- 
tary at the "People's Palace," asking for terms 
for, I believe, eight weeks. I am under the im- 
pression that the terms fixed were £100' weekly. 
We formed a separate Exhibition, the entrance fee 
was one penny only. The East End flocked in 
their thousands to see this novel show. Sir E. H. 
Currie was delighted at the result of the Exhibi- 
tion. The only escape in connection with the 
Show during its period of existence occurred here. 
On our arrival, the Secretary (I believe his name 
was Mr. Shaw) expressed a decided wish that no 
accident should occur. He gave instructions to 
the night watchman that he should give particu- 
lar attention to the Monkey Show. The watchman 
then got an attack of nerves. What should he do 
in case of an escape of any of the Apes? He was 
a cheerful man. I tried in vain to explain that all 
my specimens were a self-satisfied, self-respecting, 
and quite agreeable to their unfortunate captivity. 
For four weeks no accident happened; still he 
wished to know what steps to take. My instruc- 
tions were if any animals were found roaming 
about during the night vigil, close all doors, win- 
dows, etc., and take a cab straight away to call 
me up at any time — I advised him to keep ringing 
the bell until I answered as I slept soundly. Judge 
of my surprise that at 2 a.m. there was a tremen- 
dous din at the door. I came to the conclusion 
that the whole of my menagerie at the back had 
escaped to the front ! No; it was a common four- 
wheeler containing the watchman who informed 
me with an awful shout that the baboons were 
loose. The only baboons that I certainly was ner- 
vous about was a family of Dogface, or Anubis, 
baboons (Cynocephalus anubis). These were adult 
specimens, and I fervently hoped that they were 
not at liberty. I find in the original catalogue 
that these were described as follows : — " Family 
of Anubis Baboons, father, mother and child, from 
West Africa, supplied by J. D. Hamlyn," and were 
kept in Cage No. 121. I instructed the cabman to 
drive to Betts Street, St. George's, where one of 
the keepers lived. We hastened on our way to 
the Palace. It was as I feared — the " Family" had 
escaped ! We entered the Show building. The 
"Family," it seemed, were challenging the whole 
specimens to mortal combat. The din was terri- 
ble ! The cabman, a specimen of the Antediluvian 
period, actually came running up to know if he 
could assist. I replied, "Yes; by keeping quiet 
and outside." The " Family" had escaped by their 
door being left unfastened by the keeper. We 
decided to leave the door open trusting they would 
voluntarily return to the seclusion of Cage No. 12. 
The male portion of the "Family" shewed fight, 
or threatened to make things unpleasant. By 
