No. 216 - THE PENNY MAGAZINE - Aug. 15, 1835
TIPPOO'S TIGER.
But the great object for which this group was constructed, and the part which is said to have given the greatest delight to its royal owner, was the machinery which it contained. This, though not of nice workmanship, is simple and ingenious in contrivance. The handle seen on the animal's shoulder turns a spindle and crank within the body; to this crank is fastened a wire, which rises and falls by turning the crank: the wire passes down from the tiger between his fore-paws into the man's chest, where it works a pair of bellows, which forces the air through a pipe with a sort of whistle, terminating in the man's mouth. The pipe is covered by the man's hand; but at the moment when, by the action of the crank, the air is forced through the pipe, a string leading from the bellow pulls a small lever connected with the arm, which works on a hinge at the elbow; the arm rises in a manner which the artist intended to show supplication; the hand is lifted from the mouth, and a cry is heard. The cry is repeated as often as the handle is turned; and while this process is going on, an endless screw on the shaft turns a worm-wheel slowly round, which is furnished with four levers or wipers; each of these levers alternately lifts up another and larger pair of bellows in the head of the tiger. When by the action of one of these four levers the bellows are lifted up to their full height, the lever, in continuing to urn, passes by the bellows, and the upper board being loaded with a large piece of lead, falls down on a sudden and forces the air violently through two loud-toned pipes, terminating in the animal's mouth, and differing by the interval of a fifth. This produces a harsh growl. The man in the meantime continues his screaming or whistling, and, after a dozen cries, the growl is repeated. Such is the delectable nature of the music which please Tippoo so much, that he is said to have passed hours in his music-room with an attendant turning the handle of the machine. The situation of the parties was typical of the subjection of England to the Khodadad*, and the representation consoled him with a show of power whenever his arms were unsuccessful.
But we will charitably hope that this was not the sole amusement derived by Tippoo from this instrument. On opening a door in the side of the tiger, a row of keys may be seen just withinside; although awkwardly placed, and not very easily come at, they may be played upon in a clumsy way, and may be made to produce music. There are eighteen of these keys, each differing from the next by the interval of a semitone: the part touched by the finger is made of ivory; it is not flat as the keys of a pianoforte, but rounded like a stud or button. They are arranged with the bass to the left and the treble to the right, as in our instruments; but the semitones are all in one even line, which renders it awkward in the hands of one of our performers. Behind the keys are two rows of copper pipes, in unison with each other, two unisons being played by each key: either or both rows of pipes may be made silent by drawing out one or two stops placed by the tiger's tail, contrary in this respect to our organs, which are made silent by pushing the stops in. Behind the pipes, on the further side of the tiger, are placed the large bellows which supply this part of the instrument with wind. These are larger than either pair before mentioned;--they are blown by means of a piece of string coming out of the animal's shoulder, near the handle, and may be worked by an assistant.
This part of the machinery appears to be quite unconnected with the growling and screaming portion of the instrument, and would seem to be intended merely to fill up a vacant space in the tiger's body, without reference to the original destination of the machine, as a symbol of abhorrence to Europeans. The bellows cannot be worked by turning the handle; nor, if that were possible, could the instrument be played upon while they were so worked, for the door through which the hand is admitted to touch the keys must be kept shut or the handle will not turn round. The string coming out of the shoulder, though it appears at first to be a mere temporary substitute for some other and more mechanical means of doing the work, is in fact a part of the original contrivance, as will appear on a close inspection. By pulling this string pretty briskly, so as to keep the bellows distended, a tune may be played in a clumsy way, even now, although the machine is somewhat out of order. The pipes are not ill made, and they are tolerably in tune; but their tone is loud and harsh, not unlike the principal stop of the organ. It has been stated that the instrument was originally played like a street-organ; but, except the above-mentioned growling and screaming, this is not the case. There is no barrel, nor any means by which a barrel could let air into the pipes if there were one. The mistake undoubtedly arose from the look of the handle and pipes, which bear a considerable resemblance to those of a barrel organ. The case for this curious piece of music is the tiger's body, which is constructed of thin hard wood, well adapted for giving effect to the harsh tones produced. The body of the tiger is perforated in several places to let out the sound, and the whole of the upper part may be taken away by removing a few screws. The man is formed all of wood, like the tiger, but, being the base of the group, it is not of so light a structure; it is put together in a clumsy way, such as a common carpenter would not like to acknowledge. The tiger is merely put upon it, and secured by common screws, with their heads sticking out of the animal's paws. So rude is the construction of the whole machine, that it has been thought to be much older than the age of Tippoo, and that in fact it was made in the seventeenth century for some sovereign of the southern part of the peninsula when the Dutch were making inroads upon them. The appearance of the soldier is certainly much more like that of a Dutchman of the seventeenth century than of an Englishman at the end of the eighteenth. In this case Tippoo would only have the credit of adopting the invention ready made, instead of that of originating the barbarous idea: at all events it appears certain that he was in the habit of enjoying the working of the machine.
Whether made for Tippoo himself or for some other Indian potentate a century and a half earlier, it would be difficult to convey a more lively impression of the mingled ferocity and childish want of taste so characteristic of the majority of Asiatic princes than will be communicated at once by an inspection of this truly barbarous piece of music.

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