WAR ELEPHANTS OF MODERN ASIA.
During the recent war between England and Burmah, which resulted in
the overthrow of King Theebaw, the elephant was frequently mentioned
in despatches as being a valuable auxiliary to the troops when on the
march; and that these noble animals constitute an important feature of
many military posts in India, is, perhaps, not generally known. Such,
however, is the case; and the service they perform when it is necessary
to transport, troops, is invaluable. The elephant is not only attached
to divisions as a baggage-carrier, but is utilized in actual service,
elephant-batteries being organized for field-work. The Bengal, Bombay,
and Madras artillery establishments each comprise an armament of two
eighteen-pounder S. B. guns, one eight-inch iron howitzer, two eight-inch
mortars, and two bronze mortars of five and a half inch calibre, with
seven gun-carriages and platforms, and twenty-two ammunition-wagons drawn
by bullocks. Nine elephants and two hundred and ninety bullocks were
required for the battery, with ten riding mahouts, and one hundred and
fifty native drivers.
The appearance of an elephant-battery in the field is very striking, and
certainly the huge animals offer a good target to the artillery of the
opposing force. Each elephant has a large pad, or saddle, strapped upon
it, upon which rests the ammunition-box, or other article, as the case
may be. Upon the neck of each elephant sits the mahout; while behind
the ammunition-chest is stationed a soldier, who serves out the shot to
the man detailed to carry it. It is said that the animals soon become
accustomed to the noise of firing, and do not mind it in the least.
In the last Burmese war, the variety of uses to which these intelligent
animals could be put, was shown on many occasions. After Theebaw had
been overthrown, the country of Upper Burmah was overrun with gangs of
robbers, called _dacoits_. blood-thirsty miscreants who pillaged the
villages of peaceful natives, and even threatened Mandalay. To suppress
them, the armed steam-launches “Pegu” and “Patrol” were sent up the river
Sittang; and, in the chase, the “Patrol” ran aground on a shoal. There
were literally no appliances for hauling her off, until some one happened
to think of the elephant: forthwith, a large tusker was harnessed to the
launch, and, urged by its mahout and the men of the other launch near
by, the huge animal plunged into the river, and drew the heavy boat into
deeper water.
Elephant-batteries have been used by the British Government in various
parts of the East. In the third command of the Royal Artillery,
the elephants transport the guns; and, on their return from the
Lughman-valley expedition, they carried the battery in perfect safety
across the dangerous and rapid Cabul River, where, a few months previous,
a number of soldiers had lost their lives. When about to march, the gun,
limber, and eight ammunition-boxes are hoisted upon the backs of the
elephants in six minutes, fourteen gunners being required to perform
the service. In some of the batteries, camels are employed to bear the
ammunition. Often, when guns and carriages become caught in rocks or mud,
the elephant is used to rescue them. Count de Warren mentions an instance
that occurred in his brigade in the Coorg war in India. He says, “Having
reached a point where the bed of the torrent fell in cascades, it became
a question as to the mode of raising the guns up the almost vertical
declivity of a granite rock, the surface of which the waters had worn
and polished. The oxen which drew the cannon gave up the attempt after
one or two efforts, and lay down, as they always do in desperate cases.
I was then determined to send for some elephants of the convoy. Two of
the most docile were stripped of their loads, and led by their guides to
the place where the cannons were left. It was indicated to them, by voice
and gesture, what was expected from their courage; and the confidence
thus shown in them was not misplaced. One of the colossal beasts, placing
himself behind the gun, applied the base of his trunk to it, and, pushing
it before him, whilst the cannoneers guided it, sent it up the rocky
chasm.”
An instance is recorded during the march to Lucknow in 1858, that
illustrates the nerve of the elephant under fire, and shows how perfect
is their obedience to the mahout. Gen. Outram, desiring to annoy the
enemy’s flank, ordered the elephant-battery into line. The guns were
soon dismounted; and, as soon as firing commenced, one of the elephants,
Kudabar-Moll, was stationed by his mahout, or driver, behind the piece,
and in a short time was almost alone, the artillery-men being shot
down by the musketry of the enemy. Soon the man that served the shot
fell, leaving three men to fire the piece. This they did for a while;
the elephant, acting under instructions of his mahout, handing them
cartridges from the wagon. As the last shot was loaded, and before it
could be fired, two men were killed, and one badly wounded; yet he held
up the match to the elephant, who, at his driver’s command, touched it
to the vent, and fired the gun, the act being witnessed by a company
of infantry that came to the rescue, and ultimately put to flight the
opposing force.
In telling this story, it is very tempting to leave the mahout out of the
question, which was once done, giving the elephant the entire credit; but
it is quite enough that the animal should obey so implicitly under such
trying circumstances.
Elephants have been known, innocently of course, to turn the tide of
battle; and a story is told in Lahore, India, of a noble old animal who
was the standard-bearer in an Indian battle, carrying on his broad back
the royal ensign which was the rallying-point of the Poonah host. For
some time the huge animal bore the standard in the midst of the fray.
Suddenly the enemy made a vigorous charge; and the mahout at the same
moment commanding him to halt, the old elephant stood firm, while the
opposing force came on. The mahout dropped dead from his back; the men
about were routed, turned, and fled; and in a short time the elephant
was almost surrounded by the enemy. A moment more, he would have been
captured, when a mighty shout rose from the retreating forces. They saw
the standard still firm on the elephant’s back; and, refusing to believe
they were beaten, with a victorious cry they charged the enemy with such
valor that they were swept down like chaff; and the elephant, who still
stood like a rock amid the dead and dying, was once more within its own
lines, the true victor. The mahout’s last command had been obeyed, and
the animal remained like a statue until some one took the dead driver’s
place.
In the last centuries, elephants were used much more than at present, and
an army camp was an extraordinary sight; curiously enough, the attendants
and camp-followers often amounting to ten times the actual fighting-men.
When the Marquis Cornwallis took the field in the war with Tippoo, the
followers were estimated at one million souls. The number of elephants,
compared to the bullocks, horses, and camels, was insignificant; but the
rule was fifty elephants to every eight thousand soldiers: and, to give
an idea of these astonishing campaigns, I introduce an account by an
officer who took part in this one, Lieut. Shipp.
“My post of baggage-master being a situation which is, I believe,
peculiar to India, it may not be improper to state its duties. He is a
staff-officer, and, when not employed in his particular department, is
attached to the suite of the commander of the division as much as the
commissary-general, quartermaster-general, or any other staff-officer
of the division. On the line of march, he is held entirely responsible
that neither men nor baggage precede the column of march, and that they
are on their proper flank, which is regulated by the general orders
of the day. If the reader recollect what I before stated, that he may
safely calculate ten followers in a Bengal army to every fighting-man;
and when he is informed, that, according to the calculations made in our
camp, including the several native contingencies we had with us, our
followers were not less in number than eighty thousand men, women, and
children; some thirty thousand following the army for what they could
pick up, by fair means or otherwise,—my situation cannot be supposed
to have been a sinecure. It was truly one of great labor and activity.
I had twenty men belonging to a corps of local horse. These men were
provided with long whips, and placed at my disposal. To attempt to
talk the numberless camp-followers into obedience was quite out of the
question, and, therefore, these whips were for the purpose of lashing
them into something like discipline. To the great number of human beings
I have spoken of, must be added fifty elephants, six hundred camels, five
thousand bullocks, five thousand horses, one thousand ponies, two hundred
goats, the same number of sheep, fifty ruts, one hundred palanquins, one
hundred dogs, and one hundred hackeries, or carts.”
The elephant in a heavily wooded country is greatly appreciated in time
of war; as their huge bodies can crush through the underbrush, trample
down the reeds, and make a good road, over which the gun-carriages and
teams can be hauled. A writer on an early Burmese war says, “The road
lay partly through a thick jungle; but with the aid of three elephants,
a passage was forced.” When a bog is met, or roads have been overflowed,
making ordinary passage almost impossible, the elephants, under direction
of their mahouts, place their heads (the base of the trunk) against the
teams, and push them along, or take ropes attached to the gun-carriages
between their teeth, and haul them out of the mire.
Capt. Williamson lays much stress upon the importance of the work
performed by these animals. “Many of our most arduous military operations
have been greatly indebted for their success to the sagacity, patience,
and exertion of elephants. Exclusive of their utility in carrying baggage
and stores, considerable aid is frequently supplied by the judgment
they display, bordering very closely on reason. When cannon require to
be extricated from sloughs, the elephant, placing his forehead to the
muzzle,—which, when limbered, is the head of the piece,—with an energy
scarcely to be conceived, will urge it through a bog, from which hundreds
of oxen or horses could not drag it. At other times, lapping his trunk
round the cannon, he will lift, while the cattle and men pull forward.
The native princes attach an elephant to each cannon, to aid its progress
in emergencies. For this purpose, the animal is furnished with a thick
leather pad, covering the forehead, to prevent its being injured. It has
sometimes happened, that in narrow roads or causeways, or on banks, the
soil has given way under heavy cannon; when an elephant, being applied to
the falling side, has not only prevented the piece from upsetting, but
even aided it forward to a state of security.”
Small howitzers, that can be placed upon the elephant’s back, were not
the only guns the animals had to carry. Aurengzebe had cannon in his army
which required twenty yoke of oxen, besides elephants, who pushed at the
wheels, and hauled.
The patience and fidelity of the elephant when on the march are
proverbial, and they can nearly always be depended upon. In the steep
passes, or ghauts, of India, the work is often of the most laborious
description. An eye-witness thus describes a scene where their pluck and
sagacity were put most thoroughly to the test:—
“There was a small ravine branching off from the bed of a dry river, in
which our encampment lay, and its entrance looked like the dreary access
to some deep cavern. We entered this little gaping cavern, leaving the
principal part of our force for the protection of our standing tents
and baggage. We were equipped as lightly as possible. Two six-pounders
were conveyed on elephants; and our march seemed to lie through the bed
of this ravine, which was rocky, and watered by a crystal current, that
rippled along its flinty bed. We did not proceed at the rate of more than
one or two yards an hour,—ascending and descending every twenty paces;
at one time deep sunk in some dark excavation, and shortly afterwards
perched upon the summit of a rock, the falling of the numerous cataracts
drowning the noise made by our approach.... Our march now became more and
more tardy, and the ascents and descents more difficult and intricate.
In some places, rocks of gigantic size hung some hundred feet overhead.
These sudden and tremendous hills and dales indicated that we could not
have far to go; for the last hill was scarcely accessible.... We halted
a considerable time,—till broad daylight, when we could see, from where
I stood, the soldiers in advance of us, ascending by means of projecting
rocks and boughs. We were halted in a kind of basin, surrounded by
high hills. In the course of a couple of hours, the whole of the
Eighty-seventh Regiment, with our gallant general and suite, ascended
this difficult ghaut. From this eminence we could see a great distance;
and on every hill we could discern signals, which were communicated
from post to post.... What will not good examples effect on the minds
of soldiers? Our general walked every yard of this critical march,
encouraging his men. The question now was, how to get the guns up, and
the powder and shot; but those who are accustomed to wars in India, are
not often at a loss for expedients. Having got all the men up, except
the rear-guard, the pioneers went to work with their pickaxes, some
making a road, and others felling trees. As we were but two regiments,
the general’s primary object was to place our little force to the best
advantage. This accomplished, the guns were our next object. Having
cut a good deal of the most prominent part of the hill away, and lain
trees on the ascent as a footing for the elephants, these animals were
made to approach it, which the first did with some reluctance and fear.
He looked up, shook his head, and, when forced by his driver, roared
piteously. There can be no question, in my opinion, that this sagacious
animal was competent instinctively to judge of the practicability of
the artificial flight of steps thus constructed; for, the moment some
little alterations had been made, he seemed willing to approach. He then
commenced his examination and scrutiny, by pressing with his trunk the
trees that had been thrown across; and after this he put his fore-leg on,
with great caution, raising the fore-part of his body so as to throw its
weight on the tree. This done, he seemed satisfied as to its stability.
The next step for him to ascend by, was a projecting rock, which we
could not remove. Here the same sagacious examinations took place, the
elephant keeping his flat side close to the side of the bank, and leaning
against it. The next step was against a tree; but this, on the first
pressure of his trunk, he did not like. Here his driver made use of the
most endearing epithets, such as ‘wonderful, my life,’ ‘my wife;’ but
all these endearing appellations, of which elephants are so fond, would
not induce him to try again. Force was at length resorted to; and the
elephant roared terrifically, but would not move. Something was then
removed; he seemed satisfied, as before: and he in time ascended that
stupendous ghaut. On his reaching the top, his delight was visible in a
most eminent degree: he caressed his keepers, and threw the dirt about in
a most playful manner. Another elephant, a much younger animal, was now
to follow. He had watched the ascent of the other with the most intense
interest, making motions all the while, as though he was assisting him
by shouldering him up the acclivity,—such gestures as I have seen some
men make when spectators of gymnastic exercises. When he saw his comrade
up, he evinced his pleasure by giving a salute something like the sound
of a trumpet. When called upon to take his turn, however, he seemed much
alarmed, and would not act at all without force. When he was two steps
up, he slipped, but recovered himself by digging his toes in the earth.
With the exception of this little accident, he ascended exceedingly well.
When this elephant was near the top, the other, who had already performed
his task, extended his trunk to the assistance of his brother in
distress, round which the younger animal intwined his, and thus reached
the summit of the ghaut in safety. Having both accomplished their task,
their greeting was as cordial as if they had been long separated from
each other, and had just escaped from some perilous achievement. They
mutually embraced each other, and stood face to face for a considerable
time, as if whispering congratulations. Their driver then made them
salaam to the general, who ordered them five rupees each for sweetmeats.
On this reward of their merit being ordered, they immediately returned
thanks by another salaam.”
The British forces in India during a war rarely put elephants into the
field for active service, the animals being too conspicuous, and too
valuable to risk. But with the Burmese, this was different; they were
prodigal of their elephants. During a Burmese war, a garrison of infantry
and cavalry marched out with seventeen war elephants, fully caparisoned,
and bearing a number of armed men. They advanced upon a fort amid a
murderous fire, which killed the men upon them, and their mahouts; but in
no case did an elephant lose its head. They stood the fire steadily until
their mahouts were shot; and then, feeling themselves unrestrained, they
slowly and calmly walked back to their fort, their bravery and courage
being greatly admired by the opposing force.
In the last half-century, in any revolt, or where Indian native troops
have been brought against the English, elephants have been rarely used;
experience showing that their slow movements render them unfit for
valuable or active service in the field.
Perhaps the last time they were seen in their former grandeur was in the
war of Coromandel, when the British were fighting the native chiefs.
The latter came out on some occasions equipped like the old Mogul
emperors, to be described later on. The nabob of Arcot and his famous
rival, Chundasaheb, both came upon the field on elephants; and had not
a French bullet put an end to the former, a duel by these potentates
would have been witnessed. As soon as the nabob caught sight of his
rival’s elephant, bedecked with its owner’s standard, he became furious,
and offered his mahout a valuable reward if he would make his elephant
overthrow that of his enemy, who was the author of his defeat. The
mahout was urging the elephant on, when a bullet struck the nabob in
the heart, and he fell from the howdah. Soon after this tragic event,
Nazir-jing, a son of the Mogul, entered the Carnatic with a most imposing
force,—a battalion of thirteen hundred elephants, three hundred thousand
soldiers, and eight hundred pieces of cannon. He, too, was shot from his
elephant.
An elephant duel was observed in the field between Murzafa-jing, the
Soubah of the Carnatic, and the nabob of Canoul. The elephants of the
rivals were urged toward each other by the mahouts; and Murzafa-jing
raised his sword to strike, when his adversary thrust his javelin, which
pierced his forehead, killing him on the spot. At the same instant, at
least a thousand bullets were fired at the nabob, who also fell, mortally
wounded, from his elephant.
The introduction of fire-arms into warfare was the cause of the
withdrawal of the elephant from active field-work. The great creature
was too prominent a target, and the men upon its back were the most
conspicuous objects in the field. It was a long time, however, before
the natives would give up this animal, so strong was custom. From its
back, the old generals directed their warriors and the movements of the
battle; and, when the elephant left the field, it was usually a sign that
a retreat had been ordered, and rout generally followed.
In the battle in which Aurengzebe gained the victory over Dara, he
ordered his elephant’s legs to be chained, so that he could not retreat.
Bernier tells this story as follows:—
“Calil-ullah had suffered some indignity at the hands of Dara, and he
considered the hour arrived when he might gratify the resentment which
had never ceased to rankle in his bosom. His abstinence from all share
in the battle did not, however, produce the mischief intended, Dara
having proved victorious without the co-operation of the right wing. The
traitor, therefore, had recourse to another expedient. He quitted his
division, followed by a few persons; and riding with speed towards Dara,
precisely at the same moment when that prince was hastening to assist in
the downfall of Morud-Bakche, he exclaimed, while yet at some distance,
‘Mohbarek bad! Hazaret! Salamet! Elhamd-ul-ellah! May you be happy! May
your Majesty enjoy health, and reign in safety! The victory is your own!
But let me ask, why are you still mounted on this lofty elephant? Have
you not been sufficiently exposed to danger? If one of the numberless
arrows or balls, which have pierced your canopy, had touched your person,
who can imagine the dreadful situation to which we should be reduced? In
Heaven’s name, descend quickly, and mount your horse: nothing now remains
but to pursue the fugitives with vigor. I entreat your Majesty, permit
them not to escape.’
“Had Dara considered the consequences of quitting the back of his
elephant, on which he had displayed so much valor, and served as a
rallying-point of the army, he would have become master of the empire;
but the credulous prince, duped by the artful obsequiousness of
Calil-ullah, listened to his advice as though it had been sincere. He
descended from the elephant, and mounted his horse; but a quarter of
an hour had not elapsed, when, suspecting the imposture, he inquired
impatiently for Calil-ullah. The villain was not, however, within his
reach; he inveighed vehemently against that officer, and threatened him
with death; but Dara’s rage was now impotent, and his menace incapable
of being executed. The troops having missed their prince, a rumor
quickly spread that he was killed, and the army betrayed; a universal
panic seized them; every man thought only of his own safety, and how
to escape from the resentment of Aurengzebe. In a few minutes the army
seemed disbanded, and (strange and sudden reverse!) the conqueror became
the vanquished. Aurengzebe remained for a quarter of an hour steadily on
his elephant, and was rewarded with the crown of Hindostan. Dara left his
own elephant a few minutes too soon, and was hurled from the pinnacle of
glory to be numbered among the most miserable of princes.”
The younger brother of Dara, the famous Sultan Sujah, lost his empire
in an almost identical manner, or owing to the elephant being a
rallying-point. A French engineer raised the siege of Daman by an
ingenious device. They had a large supply of fireworks, principally
rockets; and, sallying forth, they fired them in among Aurengzebe’s
elephants, causing them to turn on their own troops, creating the
greatest confusion and an ultimate rout.
In the old Mogul empire, the armor of elephants called to mind that used
in the age of chivalry. The elephants of Akbar wore plates of massive
iron upon their foreheads; while the king of Ternassery, who was famous
for his enormous elephants, all being selected, like the Swiss Guard, for
their great size, had his animals covered completely with armor made of
beef-hides, which were fastened beneath the stomach with heavy chains.
The “Ayeen Akbery” (a native work) “is more minute. ‘Five plates of iron,
each one cubit long and four fingers broad, are joined together by rings,
and fastened round the ears of the elephant by four chains, each an ell
in length; and betwixt these another chain passes over the head, and
is fastened in the _kellawah_; and across it are four iron spikes, with
_katasses_ and iron knobs. There are other chains, with iron spikes and
knobs, hung under the throat and over the breast, and others fastened to
the trunk: these are for ornament, and to frighten horses. _Pakher_ is
a kind of steel armor that covers the body of the elephant: there are
other pieces of it for the head and proboscis. _Gejjhemp_ is a covering
made of three folds, and is laid over the _pakher_.’ Dow adds, that ‘a
sword is bound to their trunk, and daggers are fastened to their tusks.’
But the mighty power of the animal in crushing the ranks of an enemy was
principally relied upon. The armor and the swords were to add to the
dismay which an immense troop of elephants were of themselves calculated
to produce. The emperor of Akbar well knew their power in scattering
masses of terrified men. On one occasion, when he stormed the fort of
Chitar, the garrison retired to the temples. ‘Akbar, perceiving he must
lose a great number of his troops in case of a close attack, ordered
a distant fire to be kept up upon the desperate Rajaputs, till he had
introduced three hundred elephants of war, which he immediately ordered
to advance to tread them to death. The scene now became too shocking
to be described. Brave men, rendered more valiant by despair, crowded
around the elephants, seized them even by the tusks, and inflicted upon
them unavailing wounds. The terrible animals trod the Indians like
grasshoppers under their feet, or, winding them in their powerful trunks,
tossed them aloft into the air, or dashed them against the walls and
pavements. Of the garrison, which consisted of eight thousand soldiers
and of forty thousand inhabitants, thirty thousand were slain, and most
of the rest taken prisoners.’ In the rapid marches of this victorious
prince, the elephants suffered greatly. Purchas, speaking of his progress
from Kashmire in 1597, says, ‘This country he left when summer was past,
and returned to Lahore, losing many elephants and horses in the way,
both by famine, then oppressing the country, and the difficulty of the
passages; the elephants sometimes, in the ascent of the hills, helping
themselves with their trunks, leaning and staying themselves, being
burthened, thereon, as on a staff.’”
The terror which elephants produced on foot-soldiers was well appreciated
three centuries ago, and victory was generally gained by the side that
possessed the greatest number of these animals. The fear of elephants was
the greatest difficulty the famous adventurer Timour had to deal with
when on his victorious march through Persia, Siberia, and Russia. His
men replied to his war-speeches, “We may subdue Hind; yet it hath many
ramparts, rivers, wildernesses, and forests; soldiers clad in armor; and
the elephants, the destroyers of men.”
[Illustration: PLATE XX.
THE ROYAL VISIT TO INDIA. THE PRINCE OF WALES AT AGRA.
_By permission Illustrated London News._
_Page 253._]
When the army arrived upon the plains in front of Delhi, he had to take
the most extraordinary precautions to prevent this morbid fear from
resulting in a rout. An enormous ditch was built around the camp, to
prevent an inroad of invading elephants. Buffaloes were tied together
by the neck, and arranged about the ramparts, and their horns bedecked
with rushes, while men were stationed to set them on fire at the first
approach of the terrible elephants. What would have been the effect of
this conflagration on the unfortunate bullocks, imagination can picture.
The opposing force to Timour in this battle (A.D. 1399) was the Sultan
Mamood, and the remarkable armament of his elephants was certainly
enough to strike terror to the boldest heart. His army consisted of ten
thousand horse, forty thousand foot-soldiers, and elephants. The latter
were arrayed in armor, and mounted with bastions filled with men armed
with crossbows. Their tusks were elongated with poisoned daggers; and
on scaffolds hung to the sides stood armed men, bearing fire and melted
pitch and iron-pointed rockets to hurl and throw at the enemy. As this
army marched forward, the men upon their backs beating kettledrums,
cymbals, bells, and trumpets, the brave followers of Timour fell back,
utterly demoralized, before the appalling sight; and the commander
himself fell upon his knees in prayer,—a characteristic one: “As my
vast conquests have caused the destruction of a great number of God’s
creatures, I have resolved to atone for the crimes of my past life by
exterminating the infidels of China.” In some way the Delhi elephants
threw their own left wing into disorder. Timour’s horsemen rushed
forward; and the elephants, demoralized at their sabre-cuts, fled in
great confusion, while the sharp weapons aimed at their trunks left
many upon the field. As the great animals fled, Timour’s men saw that
the elephants were not invincible, and, rushing to the front, completed
the disastrous rout. Timour’s grandson, a boy of fifteen, made himself
conspicuous by attacking and wounding an elephant, overthrowing its
riders, and driving the huge animal into his grandfather’s camp. The day
following the battle of Delhi, Timour sat upon the throne of the Indian
monarch, and a procession of twelve rhinoceroses and one hundred and
twenty captive elephants were paraded before him; and afterwards sent
as presents to the Persian provinces; while the unfortunate people were
slaughtered by his soldiers.
Elephants were not always demoralized in these wars; and in another
battle this same conqueror had the front of his army protected by a line
of elephants, their towers filled with archers and Greek fire-flingers.
At the word of command they started forward, their drivers ordering them
to coil their trunks so that the sabres of the Mamelukes could not reach
them.
The Syrians fled before them, and were crushed under foot; others were
hurled forty or fifty feet into the air; the defeat being complete, and
chiefly due to the elephants.
Timour’s curious experiment of adopting elephants in warfare, after he
had witnessed their demoralization, was not without precedent, as Kublai
Khan and Alexander did the same. Marco Polo gives a clear idea of the way
elephants were used in battle:—
“It happened, that, in the year 1272, the Grand Khan sent an army into
the countries of Vochang and Karazan, for their protection and defence
against any attack that foreigners might attempt to make.... When the
King of Mien and Bangala in India, who was powerful in the number of
his subjects, in extent of territory, and in wealth, heard that an army
of Tartars had arrived at Vochang, he took the resolution of advancing
immediately to attack it, in order that by its destruction the Grand
Khan should be deterred from again attempting to station a force upon
the borders of his dominions. For this purpose he assembled a very large
army, including a multitude of elephants (an animal with which his
country abounds), upon whose backs were placed battlements, or castles,
of wood, capable of containing the number of from twelve to sixteen in
each. With these, and a numerous army of horse and foot, he took the road
to Vochang, where the Grand Khan’s army lay, and, encamping at no great
distance from it, intended to give his troops a few days of rest. The
King of Mien, learning that the Tartars had descended into the plain,
immediately put his army in motion, took up his ground at the distance
of about a mile from the enemy, and made a disposition of his force,
placing the elephants in the front, and the cavalry and infantry in two
extended wings in their rear, but leaving between them a considerable
interval. Here he took his own station, and proceeded to animate his
men, and encouraging them to fight valiantly, assuring them of victory,
as well from the superiority of their numbers, being four to one, as
from their formidable body of armed elephants, whose shock the enemy,
who had never before been engaged with such combatants, could by no
means resist. Then, giving orders for sounding a prodigious number of
warlike instruments, he advanced boldly with his whole army towards that
of the Tartars, which remained firm, making no movement, but suffering
them to approach their intrenchments. They then rushed out with great
spirit and the utmost eagerness to engage; but it was soon found that
the Tartar horses, unused to the sight of such huge animals, with their
castles, were terrified, and, wheeling about, endeavored to fly, nor
could their riders by any exertions restrain them; whilst the king, with
the whole of his forces, was every moment gaining ground. As soon as the
prudent commander perceived this unexpected disorder, without losing his
presence of mind, he instantly adopted the measure of ordering his men
to dismount, and their horses to be taken into the wood, where they were
fastened to the trees. Being dismounted, the men, without loss of time,
advanced on foot towards the line of elephants, and commenced a brisk
discharge of arrows: whilst, on the other side, those who were stationed
in the castles, and the rest of the king’s army, shot volleys in return,
with great activity; but their arrows did not make the same impression
as those of the Tartars, whose bows were drawn with a stronger arm.
So incessant were the discharges of the latter, and all their weapons
(according to the instructions of their commander) being directed against
the elephants, these were soon covered with arrows, and, suddenly giving
way, fell back upon their own people in the rear, who were thereby thrown
into confusion. It soon became impossible for their drivers to manage
them, either by force or address. Smarting under the pain of their
wounds, and terrified by the shouting of the assailants, they were no
longer governable, but, without guidance or control, ran about in all
directions, until at length, impelled by rage and fear, they rushed into
a part of the wood not occupied by the Tartars. The consequence of this
was, that, from the closeness of the brandies of large trees, they broke,
with loud crashes, the battlements, or castles, that were upon their
backs, and involved in the destruction those who sat upon them. Upon
seeing the rout of the elephants, the Tartars acquired fresh courage;
and filing off by detachments, with perfect order and regularity,
they remounted their horses, and joined their several divisions, when
a sanguinary and dreadful combat was renewed. The battle ended in a
complete victory.”
Perhaps the most remarkable displays of elephants were those of Kublai
Khan. In an old cut before me, he is shown as he appeared on his
elephants, after he had conquered his unfortunate relative, Nazam, and
smothered him between two carpets. He is represented in a large wooden
castle, which rests upon four large tuskers, whose bodies, according to
Dow, were protected with coverings of thick leather hardened by fire,
over which were housings of cloth of gold. The castle contained many
crossbow men and archers; and on the top of it was hoisted the imperial
standard, adorned with representations of the sun and moon.
In his invasions into Hindostan, in the eleventh century, Mamood of
Ghizni employed a magnificent army of thirteen hundred elephants. Dow
thus describes his battle with the King of Kaslegar:—
“Mamood, perceiving the enemy’s progress, leaped from his horse, and,
kissing the ground, invoked the aid of the Almighty. He instantly mounted
an elephant-of-war, encouraged his troops, and made a violent assault
upon Elich. The elephant, seizing the standard-bearer of the enemy,
folded round him his trunk, and tossed him aloft into the sky. He then
pressed forward like a mountain removed from its place by an earthquake,
and trod the enemy like locusts under his feet. When Mamood invested
Callinger, the rájah of that city sued for peace, and offered him three
thousand elephants and other presents. The Indian prince probably
considered that his enemy might be unacquainted with the habits of the
animal; and he, therefore, ventured upon an experiment, not very likely
to conciliate the rough hero of Turquestan. The king (Mamood) agreed to
the terms proposed; and the raja, to try the bravery of the sultan’s
troops, intoxicated the elephants with certain drugs, and let them loose,
without riders, in the camp. Mamood, seeing the animals advancing,
perceived the trick, by the wildness of their motions, and immediately
ordered a party of his best horse to seize, kill, and drive them from
the camp. Some of the Turks, emulous to display their bravery in the
presence of their king and of both armies, mounted the greatest part of
the elephants, and drove the rest into an adjacent wood, where they were
soon reduced to obedience.”
In the Book of Maccabees, there is an interesting passage describing the
armor of elephants, and their use in the wars of Asia after the conquest
of India:—
“To the end they might provoke the elephants to fight, they shewed them
the blood of grapes and mulberries. Moreover, they divided the beasts
among the armies, and for every elephant they appointed a thousand men,
armed with coats of mail, and with helmets of brass on their heads; and
beside this, for every beast were ordered five hundred horsemen of the
best. These were ready at every occasion: wheresoever the beast was, and
whithersoever the beast went, they went also, neither departed they from
him. And upon the beasts were there strong towers of wood, which covered
every one of them, and were girt fast unto them with devices: there were
also upon every one thirty-two strong men, that fought upon him, beside
the Indian that ruled him.”
These are but a few selections from many, showing the importance of the
elephant in comparatively modern times. And when we remember what an
imposing appearance twenty elephants, the largest number ever seen in
America together, make, we can imagine the scene when over a thousand of
these huge beasts were arranged in line, each clad in armor, and bearing
armed warriors.