stockade and about one hundred and fifty yards from me, with the gully
before mentioned running between us. I started to cross to the scene of
conflict, but before descending into the gully, and thus losing sight
of the jungle about me for a moment, I took a glance around. It was
fortunate that I did so, for about two hundred yards below me, on the
same side of the gully, was one of the young bulls coming stealthily
through the underbrush, and there was something in his manner which
warned me that he “had intentions.” But the very moment I became aware
of his state of mind he apparently became as exactly aware of mine; for
he dropped his ears, stopped, and then, seemingly disgusted that he
should have betrayed himself, deliberately turned his back on me and
walked off in the direction whence he had come. Nor did he once glance
back, but near the brink of the gully stopped again in some scrub and,
with his head wholly averted from me, appeared to be lost in thought.
This seemed my chance, so I ran rapidly down the side of the gully, and
for only a few seconds lost sight of him.
But what was my astonishment, upon climbing up the other side, to see
him coming toward me like a hurricane and not more than seventy yards
away! He must have started at full speed the moment my back was turned.
Fortunately the stockade was not far off, and I made for it--hurriedly.
It is possible, though, that I might not have escaped him, for thin,
wiry, and almost invisible creepers clutched my legs at every step,
had not some of the spearmen rushed to my rescue. They actually threw
sticks at him! But for me it was a very interesting moment.
However, I was in time to see the defeat of the old empress. After
many vain and furious struggles she was noosed around the left ankle
with the rope attached to the biggest of all the decoys. At the word,
this magnificent, six-ton brute picked out a tree, and without even a
pause dragged the old lady off her feet. To make her humiliation more
complete, he actually “wiped up the earth with her” when she spread
herself out on the ground in protest, dragging her along with no more
effort than if she had been a baby-carriage. But madam had not done
with them yet. Arrived at the tree, she put up a glorious fight, even
breaking two ropes, and she might have won a brief liberty had not two
of the decoys shown marvelous intelligence in blocking her flight,
butting her into place and firmly lashing her there by winding their
powerful trunks around her neck from each side. Then, while the ropes
that forever withheld her from her liberty were being securely knotted
about her legs, these two gigantic old frauds, looking all the while
wonderfully benignant and solemn, alternately bullied and flattered
her. While one caressed her gently with his trunk the other thumped her
in the ribs, and sometimes, under the guise of affection, both of them
together would lean their vast bulk against her and force her gently
but irresistibly into the position desired of their masters. One _knew_
that in elephant language they were talking to her somewhat after this
fashion:
“Come, my dear, be reasonable! A little more to the right! Softly!
_Softly!_ Tut, tut! It’s for your own good. There, now; that’s better.
Just look at us; and _we_ used to be as wild and foolish as you are.”
And then they cuddled her a little, gave her a final pat while the
last knot was being tied, and left her! For a little while the old cow
raged horribly; and then, like her abandoned baby, she broke down and
cried. It is in such scenes that the fascination of elephant-kraaling,
is found. The animals not only display a really wonderful intelligence
and the possession of those lovable qualities we are pleased to
term “human,” but they exhibit at all times, the trained elephants
especially, a noble temper and that kind of profound _character_ which
is associated in our thoughts with only the simplest and noblest of
men. It must be admitted that the elephants that have been gentled and
trained by man exhibit the finest intelligence and a majesty of port
rarely if ever observed in the wild ones. They impress one as having
become grand under servitude. It is difficult to observe them and
believe that they would wish to return to their wild state. This is no
doubt sentimentality on my part, but it is hard to be on close terms
with a noble elephant and not be awakened to sentiment concerning it.
The noosing of their leader sealed the fate of the rest of the herd
(not that it had ever been in doubt); but by sunset all had been
tied to trees save two, and it was reasonably certain these could
not escape. The last glimpse I had of them they were standing in
grief-stricken silence before the prostrate figure of a tethered calf
whose struggles had worn him out. All night the hoarse trumpetings
of the fettered-up mothers and the wails of their calves filled the
jungle with lamentation. Occasionally, far off in the wilderness, a
deep-throated bull would send out a long call of sympathy. Somewhere in
the darkness the herd that had escaped hovered near, but the beaters’
line of fires kept them back. The captured ten were lost to the jungle
forever.
Next morning, in the earliest light, I went up to the stockade to have
a last look. The youngsters were still bawling and plunging frantically
against their fetters, but the old empress was motionless and silent.
So still she stood that in the pale light I took a time exposure of
her. Her hind quarters and her flanks sagged, and her head expressed
all the ache of utter despair. Youth might still cry and struggle
against its fate, but she had given up the fight. Two hours later they
had harnessed her securely between two mighty bulls, and a pygmy man
had climbed upon her back. Then she uttered one last and mighty burst
of anguished rage before she fell into the captive’s stride that was to
carry her to her new life of labor down on the low-country estates.
I have always been fond of big-game shooting, and I have longed to
include this mightiest of beasts in my huntsman’s bag; but I came away
from the kraal with one clear idea in my mind, dominating all others: I
never shall willingly kill an elephant.
[Illustration]
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS IN RUSSIA
EXTRACTS FROM HIS CORRESPONDENCE RELATING TO THE WAR OF 1812,
NAPOLEON’S RETREAT FROM MOSCOW, AND CONVERSATIONS WITH MADAME DE STAËL
INTRODUCTION AND NOTES BY CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS
A century ago at this time the Napoleonic wars, so-called, or the
convulsions which succeeded the French Revolution of 1789, were rapidly
drawing to a close. Beginning with the capture of the Bastille, July
14, 1789, the final catastrophe occurred at Waterloo, June 18, 1815.
Meanwhile, during the last half of 1812 and the whole of 1813, it is no
exaggeration to say that the whole world was at war. Up to June, 1812,
the United States had kept out of the actual fray, maintaining, by
hook or by crook, a species of so-called neutrality. The affair of the
_Leopard_ and the _Chesapeake_, unspeakably disgraceful to the United
States, had occurred off the capes of Virginia in June, 1807. In the
following December Jefferson’s embargo had been proclaimed; but, having
proved utterly futile as either a remedial or a protective measure, it
was removed in March, 1809.
Needless to say, this was for the United States a period of tension and
deep humiliation. Threats of disunion were freely made, and the first
steps looking to a secession of the New England States from the Union
had been taken. On March 4, 1809, James Madison was inaugurated as the
fourth President, and war with Great Britain was declared in June,
1812. One of the earliest acts of Madison after taking the oath of
office had been to nominate John Quincy Adams to represent the United
States at the court of St. Petersburg. Alexander I, then thirty-five
years old, was Czar of Russia. Two years before that he had, with
Napoleon, effected the treaty of Tilsit, so-called, theatrically signed
on a raft moored in the river Niemen. A temporary peace, therefore,
existed between the Russian czar and Napoleon, then at the zenith of
his career; a truce, rather than a peace, destined to be rudely broken
in the summer of 1812. Napoleon’s disastrous Russian campaign, and
the War of 1812-15 between the United States and Great Britain, then
ensued; the latter was drawing to a close just at the end of 1814
(December 25), six months before the battle of Waterloo.
Mr. Adams’s residence in Russia (1809-1814) covered, therefore, the
whole of the period of Napoleon’s Russian experience, as also his
campaign during the subsequent year (1813), intervening between the
retreat from Moscow and Waterloo. Mr. Adams thus held an official
position at the very center of conflict during the four most troubled
years of the nineteenth century. He was in the midst of things. During
that period also he maintained a constant interchange of familiar,
family letters, so far as the facilities for such an interchange then
existed, between St. Petersburg and Quincy, his home in Massachusetts.
These letters never have seen the light.
On Wednesday, October 16, 1912, the American Antiquarian Society
celebrated its centennial anniversary at Worcester, Massachusetts. As
president of a sister, but senior, organization--the Massachusetts
Historical Society--the writer was invited to take part in this affair,
contributing to it. His thoughts, therefore, naturally reverted to the
events taking place at the particular time the society, whose birth was
thus celebrated, came into existence; and those events were of a very
exciting and memorable character.
Napoleon was in Moscow that day, anxiously awaiting the results of
certain negotiations he had undertaken, looking to a possible escape
from the situation in which he had involved himself. Tidings of the
utter failure of the negotiations reached him, and the order to
evacuate Moscow, preliminary to the fatal retreat, was given on October
18--just two days subsequent to the occurrence we were to celebrate.
On this side of the Atlantic the memorable action between the
_Constitution_ and the _Guerrière_ had occurred on August 19--just two
months before; and exactly one week later--October 25--the frigate
_United States_ captured the _Macedonian_. Thus, during the latter half
of the year 1812, memorable events followed close on one another’s
heels. Of all of these, Mr. Adams, in Russia, and his relatives in
Massachusetts, were deeply interested observers; and a recurrence
to the letters then interchanged, canvassing these events from the
contemporary point of view, could hardly fail to be of interest and
even of historical value.
A portion of the material from the yellowing letter-files of that
intimate family correspondence is offered in the following extracts.
They relate exclusively to the events then occurring in Russia and
America, and to characters now become historic. One letter, of the most
informal character, describes a long interview with the famous Madame
de Staël in St. Petersburg, at the time of Napoleon’s Russian campaign,
the conversation taking place on the day preceding that on which the
great battle of Borodino was fought (September 7, 1812). It will be
remembered that Napoleon, considering Madame de Staël an enemy in no
way to be despised, had some years before treated her accordingly, so
that in 1812 she was still in exile.
Correspondence between Europe and America in those days was carried on
under extreme difficulty. Letters, whether passing through the post, or
confided for delivery to private hands, were freely opened by officials
in nearly every country. To such a degree was this practised that in
a letter written from St. Petersburg to his brother, Thomas Boylston
Adams, John Quincy Adams observed: “Almost every letter I write is
opened and read either by French or English officers.”
Correspondence, therefore, had to be carried on with great discretion.
This is apparent in the letters of Mrs. John Adams to her son. In one
of them, dated from Quincy, July 29, 1812, she says:
“The declaration of war by the United States against Great Britain,
the necessity for which is deplored, renders the communication
between us so hazardous that I despair of hearing from you
or conveying intelligence to you.... We have not any letters
from you of a later date than the 4th March, and we wait in
anxious expectation of hearing. I have written to you by various
opportunities, and I could not fill many pages with subjects which
ought to come to your knowledge of a political nature, if I did not
feel myself restrained by the desire I have, that this letter may
reach you, as it contains no subject to gratify the curiosity of
any one and can be only interesting to yourself as a testimony of
the health of your friends.”
And again, writing under date of November 30 following, she says:
“Your letters gave us the more pleasure, as we had despaired of
hearing again from you during the winter. It is almost a forlorn
hope to expect any communication between us. The war between France
and Russia on the one hand, and America and England on the other,
leaves few chances for private correspondence. If while peace
existed so little regard was had to letters addrest to a publicke
minister that they must be broken open and family and domesticke
concerns become the subject of public investigation, there can
be but little satisfaction in writing.... Notwithstanding that
blundering Irish Lord Castlereagh[1] denies the fact, I cannot
expect more respect or civility when the nations are hostile to
each other. Should this be destined to similar honor I request Sir
William or any of their Lordships to awaken in their own Bosoms
some natural affection and kindly forward this letter to the son to
whom it is addrest, and whom three years’ absence from his parents
and children render it particularly necessary that it should go
with safety.”
Curious light on this subject of tampering with correspondence is shown
in a letter from J. Q. Adams to his mother, dated St. Petersburg, April
7, 1813:
“I know not whether it was generosity, or any other virtue, or
merely a disposition to receive the postage, that induced the
transmission of your favour of 30 December to Mr. Williams of
London; for by him it was kindly forwarded to me, and on the first
day of this month, to my inexpressible joy, came to hand. It was
but so short a time before that I had received your letter of 29
July!--and excepting that, not a line from Quincy later than April
of the last year. This last letter had apparently been opened,
although the impression of your Seal upon the wax was restored--a
circumstance which indicates that it was done in England, where
they still affect the appearance of not breaking seals at the
Post-Office.
“On this Continent they are less scrupulous about forms. When they
open letters, they break the seals, and do not take the trouble of
restoring them. They send them open to their address. It reminds
me of an anecdote I have lately met with of Prince Kaunitz when he
was prime Minister of the Empress Maria Theresa. One of his clerks
whose business it was to copy the _opened_ letters, coming to
foreign Ministers at Vienna, in the hurry of reclosing a despatch
to one of the Envoys, sent him his copy instead of the original.
The Envoy went to Prince Kaunitz, showed him the copy that he had
received, and complained that the original was withheld from him.
The Prince immediately sent for the Clerk, severely reprimanded
him in the Envoy’s presence for his blunder, and directed him to
bring instantaneously the original despatch. The Clerk brought
it accordingly, and the Prince gave it to the Envoy, with many
apologies for the trouble occasioned him by the Clerk’s mistake,
and assurances of his hope that it would never occur again.”
THE SITUATION IN 1812
John Quincy Adams to his mother, Mrs. John Adams
“St. Petersburg, 24 October, 1812.
“ ... There is now scarcely a spot upon the habitable globe but
is desolated by the scourge of War. I see my own Country writhing
under it, and every hope of better prospects vanishing before me.
If I turn my eyes around me, I see the flame still more intensely
burning. Fire and the Sword are ravaging the Country where I
reside. Moscow, the antient Metropolis, one of the most magnificent
and most populous Cities of Europe in the hands of an invader,
and probably the greatest part of it buried in ashes.[2] Numerous
inferior Cities daily devoted to the same Destruction, and Millions
of People trampled under the feet of oppression of fugitives from
the ruins of their habitations, perishing by hunger, in woods or
deserts....
“We live indeed in an age when it is not lawful for any civilized
Nation to be unprepared for or incapable of War. Never, with an
aching Heart I say it, never did the warlike Spirit burn with so
intense a flame throughout the civilized World as at this moment.
Never was the prospect of its continuing to burn and becoming still
fiercer, so terrible as now. It would perhaps not be difficult
to show that the State of War has become indispensable to the
existence both of the French and British _Governments_. That in
Peace they would both find their destruction....”
John Quincy Adams to Thomas Boylston Adams
“St. Petersburg, 24 November, 1812.
“ ... You know how deeply I was disappointed at the breaking out
of our War,[3] precisely at the moment when I entertained the
most ardent and sanguine hopes that War had become unnecessary.
Its Events have hitherto been far from favourable to our Cause,
but they have rather contributed to convince me of its necessity,
upon principles distinct from the consideration of its Causes....
Our Means of taking the British possessions upon our Continent
are so ample and unquestionable that if we do not take them it
must be owing to the want of qualities, without which there is no
Independent Nation, and which we must acquire at any hazard and any
loss.
“The acquisition of Canada, however, was not and could not be
the object of this War. I do not suppose it is expected that we
should keep it if we were now to take it. Great Britain is yet too
powerful and values her remaining possessions too highly to make it
possible for us to retain them at the Peace, if we should conquer
them by the War. The time is not come. But the power of Great
Britain must soon decline. She is now straining it so excessively
beyond its natural extent that it must before long sink under the
violence of its own exertions. Her paper credit is already rapidly
declining, and she is daily becoming more extravagant in the abuse
of it. I believe that her Government could not exist three years at
Peace without a National Convulsion. And I doubt whether she can
carry on three years longer the War in which she is now engaged,
without such failure of her finances as she can never recover. It
is in the stage of weakness which must inevitably follow that of
overplied and exhausted strength that Canada and all her other
possessions would have fallen into our hands without the need of
any effort on our part, and in a manner more congenial to our
principles, and to Justice, than by Conquest.
“The great Events daily occurring in the Country whence I now
write you are strong and continual additional warnings to us not
to involve ourselves in the inextricable labyrinth of European
politicks and Revolutions.”
John Quincy Adams to Mrs. John Adams
“St. Petersburg, 30 January, 1813.
“ ... There are several Americans residing here, who continue to
receive frequent letters from their friends at home. Through them
and through the English Newspapers we collect the information of
the most important events occurring on our side of the Water.
“ ... The English Government and Nation have been told, and have
probably believed that Mr. De Witt Clinton would be elected
President instead of Mr. Madison, and that he would instantly make
peace with England upon English terms. Of the real issue of the
Election we are here not yet informed; though accounts from the
United States have reached us to late in November, and they lead us
to expect Mr. Madison’s re-election.[4]
“I never entertained very sanguine hopes of success to our first
military efforts by land. I did not indeed anticipate that within
six months from the Commencement of the War they would make us the
scorn and laughter of all Europe, and that our National Character
would be saved from sinking beneath contempt, only by the exploits
of our Navy upon the Ocean. Blessing upon the names of #Isaac#
Hull[5] and Decatur,[6] and their brave Officers and Men! for
enabling an American to hold up his head among the Nations!--The
capture of two British frigates successively, by American ships but
little superior to them in force has not only been most profoundly
felt in England, but has excited the attention of all Europe. It
has gone far towards wiping away the disgrace of our two Surrenders
in Canada. I believe if the English could have had their choice
they would rather have lost Canada the first Campaign, than their
two frigates as they have lost them. I hope and pray that the
effect of these occurrences upon the national mind in our own
Country will be as powerful as it has been in England, but with a
different operation.
“After the news of the _Guerrière’s_ capture, I saw an Article
in the ‘Times,’ a _Wellesley_ Paper, written evidently under the
impression of great alarm; and explicitly declaring that ‘a new
Enemy to Great Britain has appeared upon the Ocean, _which must
instantly be crushed_, or would become the most formidable Enemy
to her naval supremacy with which she ever had to contend.’ We
must rely upon it that this will be the prevailing sentiment of
the British Nation. That we must instantly be crushed upon the
Ocean--and unless our Spirit shall rise and expand in proportion to
the pressure which they can and will apply to crush us, our first
success will only serve more effectually to seal our ultimate ruin
upon the Sea.
“The disproportion of force between us and Britain at Sea is so
excessive that the very idea of a contest with her upon that
Element has something in it of desperation. To her it is only
ridiculous. Upon a late debate in the House of Peers, something
having been said of the American Navy, Lord Bathurst, one of the
Ministers, told their lordships that the American Navy consisted of
_five frigates_--and the House burst into a fit of laughter. These
five frigates, however, have excited a sentiment quite different
from laughter in the five hundred frigates of the British Navy,
and if the American People will be as true to themselves as their
little despised Navy has proved itself true to them, it is not
in the gigantic power of Britain herself to _crush_ us; neither
instantly nor in any course of time, upon the Ocean.
“Hitherto, Fortune, or rather with a grateful Heart would I humbly
say Providence, has favoured us in a signal manner. But we must not
expect that our frigates will often have the luck of meeting single
ships a little inferior in strength to themselves, or of escaping
from ships greatly superior to them. That they have not already all
fallen into the Enemy’s hands, is matter of surprise as well as of
gratulation....
“The first wish of my heart is for Peace. But the Prospects of
Peace, both in Europe and America, are more faint and distant than
they have been for many years. War has in the course of the year
1812 consumed in the North of Europe alone, at least half a million
of human lives, without producing the slightest indication in
any of the parties engaged in it of a disposition to sheathe the
sword....”
John Quincy Adams to Thomas Boylston Adams
“St. Petersburg, 31 January, 1813.
“ ... The spirit of 1775 seems to be extinct in New England,[7] but
I hope the profligacy of British policy will not be more successful
now than it was then.