TRICK ELEPHANTS.
The readiness of the elephant to familiarize itself with various
tricks has been recognized from very early times, and the list of
accomplishments which these unwieldy creatures have acquired is a long
and interesting one. To the circus of the present day, the elephant
is invaluable. People tire of the old jokes of the clown, and of the
time-worn bare-back riding, but the elephant possesses a peculiar
fascination; and, the more it is observed, the more there is to admire.
This was, I think, particularly true of Jumbo, who, though he had no
tricks to display, was a never-failing source of interest. I remember on
one occasion, when afforded an opportunity of entering his stable alone,
I stood for a long time noting the monotonous, pendulum-like movement of
the enormous head and trunk as it swayed from side to side; and so huge
did he appear, and withal so wonderful, such a giant of flesh and bone,
that I could have extended my visit a long time without becoming wearied
with its monotony. I think this is true to a great extent with all
elephants. They are so wonderful and stupendous, that they do not wear
upon the public patience.
The education of the elephant is quite an important matter; and in
nearly all the large herds, like Barnum’s, there are what might be
called elephant schools, where the elephants are not only taught, but
kept in practice. Kindness is a feature of this education; but fear is
the motive, after all, on the part of the elephant; and were it not for
the dread which the hook of the trainer inspires, there would be little
discipline maintained.
The trainer of the Barnum herd informed me that he had often seen
elephants, especially young ones, practising their lessons out of school.
On one occasion he looked through a crevice into the pen of the elephants
who were fastened up for the night, and there was one trying to stand on
its head. While he watched, it made the attempt several times, just as if
he had been standing by, and finally succeeded. Some of my young readers
may possibly think that this is a remarkable evidence of intelligence,
but I am inclined to think that it was merely the result of the force of
daily habit.
As long ago as the time of Pliny, elephants were observed studying
their lessons, if so we may term it. This ancient author tells us that
an elephant, having been punished for his inaptitude in executing some
feat which he was required to learn, was observed at night endeavoring
to practise what he had vainly attempted during the day; and Plutarch
confirms this by mentioning an elephant who practised his theatrical
attitudes, alone, by moonlight.
The elephants of to-day are trained to march like soldiers, to wheel and
counter-march at command, to salute their superior by throwing up the
trunk and whistling loudly, to build pyramids and climb upon eminences;
and one small elephant has been taught to walk upon a rope,—a very broad
and flat one. Elephants upon the see-saw, upon a rolling ball, elephants
upon their hind-legs, and dancing elephants,—all are familiar to the
circus-goer; and to show to what perfection the art of animal-training
has attained, quite recently two small Indian elephants, which were
erroneously advertised as mammoths in New York, from the fact that they
had some hair upon their heads and bodies, were educated to do some
comical tricks, one of which was to ride a tricycle, in which position
they presented a most ludicrous appearance. (See Plate XVI.)
Perhaps the most remarkable exhibition is that afforded by the little
elephant, Tom Thumb, of the Barnum circus, the one who was in the
accident which killed Jumbo. This elephant comes walking upon his
hind-legs upon a mimic stage, with an alleged German, and both take seats
at a table; the elephant being dressed in hat, coat, and trousers. The
clown elephant now takes a bell in its trunk, and rings it; a waiter
coming in and taking the order, which is evidently for some intoxicant.
When he returns with a bottle and two glasses, the elephant seizes the
former while his companion is not looking, and drinks the contents. This
act is repeated a number of times, the elephant ringing the bell and
ordering another bottle before the German discovers the fraud. Then the
elephant appears to be overcome with the wine, and, taking a fan in its
trunk, uses it vigorously. In all its movements the curious animal acts
exactly as if it understood all that was going on, and fully appreciated
the sport.
It is not often that an elephant is employed as a witness in court, but
such an instance occurred in Cleveland some time ago. The famous trick
elephant Pickaninny had been exhibited there; and, as some discussion had
been raised as to its speed, a test was given, the trainer affirming that
the elephant could travel three miles in thirty minutes. It accomplished
a mile in eight minutes and the officers of the Society for the
Prevention of Cruelty to Animals very properly interfered and arrested
the driver charging him with having prodded the animal with an iron until
the blood came.
The next day the parties appeared in court, and the trainer subpœned his
elephant in his defence. As the animal could not squeeze up the stairs to
the police court, the latter was held in the corridor below. When asked
if he had been injured, Pickaninny moved his head negatively; and when
the inquiry was made if he was treated well, he bobbed his head up and
down, and grunted his assent in a very decided manner. It is unnecessary
to say that his trainer was not far off during this performance; and as
examination failed to show any wounds, the man was discharged, and the
elephant complimented upon his success by being presented with loaves of
bread, fruit, and other delicacies.
The elephant has figured in the circus of England for at least two
hundred and fifty years; and in 1681 a fine specimen was accidentally
destroyed by fire in Dublin. The exhibition price had been so high that
comparatively few persons had seen it; and at the time of the fire, the
poorer classes hunted for pieces of the flesh as relics, which shows what
a novel spectacle an elephant must have been at this time.
Among the first trained elephants exhibited in Europe, was a fine Asiatic
animal, employed at the Adelphi Theatre, London. It took part in an
Eastern play, and evoked much applause by marching in a procession,
kneeling before the king, and saluting the true prince without apparent
orders.
One of the first elephants seen in London was kept in the Tower of London
in the seventeenth century, and was a gift to Henry III. from Louis IX.
of France. It was probably obtained from Africa when the French king
invaded that country. The order relating to this elephant is still extant
among the old archives, and reads thus: “We command you, that, of the
farm of our city, ye cause, without delay, to be built at our Tower of
London, one house of forty feet long, and twenty feet deep, for our
elephant.”
It was evidently quite the custom among monarchs to send elephants to one
another. Emmanuel of Portugal sent a fine one to Pope Leo X. and Cardan
describes one that he saw in the sixteenth century, at the court of the
Queen of Bohemia, the daughter of Charles the Fifth. As early as 802,
Haroun-al-Raschid, caliph of the Saracens, sent one to Charlemagne.
The elephants of Germanicus were trained to perform many remarkable
feats, as hurling javelins into the air with their trunks, and catching
them. Pliny says that these elephants danced upon a rope, and their
steps were so practised and certain, that four of them walked upon the
rope, bearing a litter, which contained one of their companions who
feigned to be sick. This would seem an exaggeration, but an elephant
upon the tight-rope has been seen in this country; and ancient writers
agree with Pliny that the elephants exhibited at ancient Rome could not
only walk upon the rope, but retreat backwards without falling off. This
performance, wonderful as it appears, is credited by nearly all the
old writers. Seneca describes an elephant, who, at the command of its
keeper, would bow its head, kneel, and walk upon a rope. Of course, it is
impossible for an elephant to walk upon a slack rope; and those alluded
to were probably of very large size, perhaps flat upon the sides, and
stretched to the greatest tension, and placed near the ground.
It is evident, however, that, in some cases, the rope was high above the
spectators; as one writer mentions an elephant exhibited in the presence
of the Emperor Galba, which ascended to the roof of the circus, on a rope
stretched in an incline, and came back in safety, bearing a man upon its
back.
This performance is extremely wonderful when we remember the natural
timidity of the animal, and the almost impossibility of forcing it upon
a structure that is in the least unstable or frail. When elephants are
marched over a bridge, they exercise the greatest caution, often trying
the boards before taking the step, and displaying much sagacity.
We have seen the elephant of to-day fire a gun, play upon the hand-organ,
or ring a bell: and Arrian mentions seeing an elephant who played upon
the cymbals, having one attached to each knee, and bearing the third
in its proboscis; thus beating a measure with great exactness, while
other elephants danced about him. Busbec, ambassador from Germany
to Constantinople in 1555, saw an elephant which he describes as an
extremely graceful dancer and ball-player, throwing the ball, and
catching it, as easily as could a man with his hands.
It is a common thing for parrots to be taught to scream out the name of
prominent people, and elephants have been trained to perform a somewhat
similar trick. Thus, an elephant saluted Domitian when he passed; and
when the elephant presented by Emmanuel of Portugal saw Leo X., to
whom he was sent as a gift, it fell upon its knees, and made a profound
obeisance.
By far the best-trained elephant which was ever exhibited in London, was
owned by the Duke of Devonshire, who obtained the animal in a curious
manner. On being asked by a lady _en route_ for India, what she should
bring him, he replied jokingly, “Ah! nothing less than an elephant.”
A few months later, he was astonished at receiving the animal, whose
actions and intelligence were the admiration of the country.
The elephant was kept in a large enclosure, and treated with every
kindness and attention, and developed a remarkable intelligence, soon
learning to assist in many ways the man who was employed to take care of
it. At his request it would go to him, take a broom, and sweep the paths
or grass wherever he indicated, using her trunk to perform the work, with
as much ease as a man would his hands. When he was watering the garden,
it would follow him around, carrying the water-pot; always being rewarded
for its faithful services with a carrot, or some other vegetable. The
keeper soon found that the elephant was adroit at work of any kind.
When given a bottle, it uncorked it itself, by pressing it against the
ground with its foot, and holding it at an angle of forty-five degrees,
carefully pulling the cork out with its trunk. When this feat was often
tried for the entertainment of the duke’s friends, a soda-water bottle
was used, in which the cork projected a very little above the edge.
When the bottle was uncorked, she would turn her trunk around, so as to
reverse it, and drink the contents with much gusto, then handing the
bottle to the attendant.
Another trick it performed was equally applauded. This was to take off
its blanket without the aid of its trunk. When the attendant rode it, he
covered its back with a large cloth; and, when he wished to dismount, it
would kneel, then rise, and, at the word of command, begin to agitate the
muscles of its loins in such a manner that the housing was soon wriggled
off, upon which it would take and fold it with exactness, and then toss
it upon the centre of its back.
Such an animal naturally became a great favorite, and, at the time, was
as famous as Jumbo. It displayed great affection for its keeper; and
it is needless to say, that it was returned. The first keeper attended
it for eight years; and, when he left, it seemed to mourn, and showed
a disposition to resent the advances of the new attendant, but was
gradually won over by kindness, and finally would cry lustily for him if
he remained away what it considered too long a time. This famous elephant
died of consumption in 1829, in the prime of life, being about twenty-one
years of age.