_A Famous Chimpanzee--Mr. Crowley of Central Park--His Origin
and History--Details of his Early Life--His Training and
Accomplishments--Elating at Table with Knife, Fork, and Spoon--Furniture
of his Apartment--Drinking from a Cup--What he Eats and Drinks--His
appreciation of Music--Refusal to wear Clothes--Ill of Pneumonia and
Recovery--A bad Temper--The Gorilla and his near Relatives--The Gorilla
at Home--Du Chaillu's Experiences--Friendship between a Dog and a
Gorilla--The Orang-outang--His Home and Habits--Performances of a
Baby Orang--The Gibbon--Gentlest of the Monkey Family--Mr. Newmian's
Pet--Long-nosed Monkeys--Monkeys catching Crabs with their Tails--How
the Traveler Lost and Recovered his Red Caps--The Monkey and the
Mirror--The Orang that Saved the Child._
The afternoon of the day following the visit to the monkey theater was
devoted to a visit to the collection of wild animals in Central Park.
The special object of the visit was a famous chimpanzee known as Mr.
Crowley, who was the wonder and admiration of many children and grown
people on account of his intelligence and accomplishments.
Unfortunately for the interest of science and the amusement of the
public, Mr. Crowley met the fate that befalls most monkeys who are
brought from their tropical homes to colder climates; he died of
pneumonia and pleurisy after having been several times dangerously ill.
[Illustration: 0166]
Monkeys rarely live long in northern countries; they die of pneumonia or
consumption, generally in a few months, in spite of the greatest care
in shielding them from the effects of draughts or chills. The tailless
monkeys are more hardy than the tailed ones, but even they are not proof
against the rigors of the north.
From his own observations, aided by free quotations from a little book
entitled “Mr. Crowley of Central Park,” by Henry S. Fuller, George
prepared the following description of this remarkable animal:
“Crowley was captured when very young in the forests of Africa, not far
from Monrovia, Liberia. He was presented to the Central Park Museum by
the Hon. Mr. Smythe, U. S. Minister to Liberia, and became a resident of
New York in May 1884. He was then thought to be about six months old and
weighed not far from twenty-five pounds; he was very active, and soon
after his arrival a trapeze was fitted up for him on which he took great
pleasure in swinging.
[Illustration: 0168]
A pair of ninepins were obtained for him, in shape like small Indian
clubs, and several wooden balls sufficiently large not to be slipped
through the grating. He took great pleasure in making targets of the
pins, and would hurl the balls at them with all his strength and chatter
with delight when the targets were struck. Tiring of this, he would
seize the pins, one in each hand, and exercise with these, not entirely
according to the written rules of club exercise, but with a zest that
was of equal benefit to the muscles; although, when he abandoned
this practice and used them as drumsticks to batter the sides of his
apartment, the uproar sometimes became too great to be endured.
“His meals were usually taken outside of his apartment. Seated in one of
the office chairs about six o'clock, after his morning toilet had been
made, he was handed a plate of boiled rice, sweetened with a little
sugar, which he ate in genteel fashion with a spoon, and with apparent
relish, often looking up at his benefactor with one eye in apparent
gratitude, and only pausing an instant to wipe his spacious chin of
little rivulets of rice that would trickle at times from the convex
corners of his mouth.
[Illustration: 9169]
A cup of milk would then be given him to aid the digestion of more solid
food.”
“These meals were prepared punctually four times a day, a custom which
has become of a second nature to the chimpanzee and continues to the
present time. The first meal was in the morning, and a lunch followed
about ten o'clock; between one and two he was given his dinner, and his
supper hour was at five, after which he invariably indicated a desire to
retire to his blanket and dispose of himself for the night. The lunch in
the morning and the supper were often varied with fruit, an orange or
a banana, which was first carefully prepared by peeling. Otherwise
his diet was quite plain; all sweetmeats, candies and dainties being
positively prohibited.
“During the fall of 1884, his weight, increasing at more than a pound
a month, reached forty pounds. His height and strength developed
proportionately. The coat of hair that had begun to appear upon his body
was black and glossy. It was brushed daily, an operation which he seemed
to enjoy; about the head, where it grew longer, a natural inclination
was discovered to part in the center, and for better effect the hair was
brushed down over his forehead and kept trimmed and banged, imparting a
more civilized appearance when he was presented to visitors.
“On being permitted to view himself in a glass, Crowley expressed his
entire approbation of this fashion. He displayed much vanity and did not
soon tire of admiring himself. When he grasped a policeman's club
that was in the room and paraded up and down with it for a cane, his
appearance was striking. The natural stoop of his shoulders became
profoundly English, and taken in conjunction with the cane, so thick
and heavy in proportion to Crowley's figure, the resemblance was most
perfect.
“He was quite conscious of his increasing importance, and took great
pleasure in receiving visitors. He submitted to the cleaning of his
nails and the scrubbing of his teeth, but the washing of his hands and
face was always extremely distasteful to him. He never became entirely
reconciled to that practice, and after he became older he discarded it
almost entirely.
“A small chair and a table of solid oak were made for him, both articles
being sufficiently heavy to withstand an outburst of animal spirits that
he sometimes indulged in after a meal. For the same reason his dishes
were of the heavy ware used in down-town restaurants. He had previously
learned to drink from a cup and sip his milk with a spoon. Now he was
instructed in the use of knife and fork, and in the absence of meat or
other solid food, he carved into slices the bananas and other fruits
given him, and conveyed these slices to his mouth on the fork.
“One admirer sent him a napkin enclosed in a plated silver ring. The
ring was engraved, 'Remus Crowley, Esq.,' and a corner of the napkin
had also the name embroidered on it. After inspecting both with grave
deliberation, he grunted his appreciation, and proceeded to thrust the
napkin into his mouth. Much patient persevering was required to impress
upon him the importance of laying the napkin on one knee, or of folding
it over his chest while eating, and that its function was to keep his
mouth and chin clean, but repeated instructions at last instilled these
precepts on his mind.
“The chimpanzees are keen, observant animals, and Crowley inherited the
full gifts of his race. Little that transpired around him escaped his
attention, while his understanding was not less ready and intelligent.
In a few days he learned to lock and unlock the doors of the room in
which he lived, and to hide the key which was used to lock him in the
apartment. More care was needed with him than for a child of live years.
If he could not express himself intelligently in speech. He was neither
deaf nor dumb, and he had a vocabulary of his own made up of gutteral
monosyllables, which his attendant professes to understand quite well,
though to the uninitiated it is more than Greek or Sanscrit.”
[Illustration: 0171]
“'Shall I wash your face, Crowley?' asked his keeper.
“'Ooh! ooh! ooh!' exclaimed Crowley, moving away disgusted. 'That means
no,' explains the attendant.
“'Here's an orange, baby.'
“'Ut, oot, oot, oot!' and Crowley thrust out a fist eagerly. His other
expressions are more complex, except with regard to pain or pleasure.
With the first he utters a yell that would startle a Sioux Indian; when
pleased, the ends of his mouth stretch to each ear, while he dances and
mumbles with enjoyment.
“By the summer of 1885 Crowley weighed fifty pounds and was very
vigorous. A new cage was made for him in the west end of the monkey
house; it was about ten feet long, six feet high, and of the same
width, open on all sides, and protected by a grating of iron wire, the
thickness of a lady's little finger. One of the new features introduced
in it was a swing or trapeze; a wooden bar suspended at one end of the
cage by two stout ropes from the ceiling. At the other end of the cage
was a spring board, to enable him to indulge to his full bent in his
propensity for leaping. When placed in his new quarters he made a
dignified circuit of his room, walking as erect as possible, only
resting on the knuckles of his hands, or supporting himself by holding
to the grating, He inspected the spring-board as if accustomed to
spring-boards of various patterns, and passed on without testing its
elasticity. The trapeze he eyed with some curiosity, but did not deign
to try it.
“At the close of his second summer, it was decided that many changes
would be needed another year, to fit that place for his growth. When
standing erect, and flat on his feet, Crowley was now nearly four feet
in height. He had outgrown the baby chair provided for him the first
year, and it was succeeded by one better suited to a person of his
size and importance. A bedstead of oak was procured, so that instead of
stretching himself on the hard floor, he could sleep like other people.
The bedstead was five feet long and three feet wide, giving him ample
room to turn around without rolling out; but for greater security it was
attached to the floor with iron braces, which defied, for the time, Mr.
Crowley's ingenuity to unscrew, and his strength to remove from their
places.
“Crowley had a fondness for music. Whenever his attendant produced a
mouth organ and played on it “Sweet Violets,” or “Yankee Doodle,” the
chimpanzee's whole attention was at once arrested. He would listen for a
few moments intently, and as the air proceeded, a state of great nervous
excitement would come upon him. His body would begin to sway in unison
with the attendant's foot as it beat upon the floor, until at last,
no longer able to contain himself, he would spring up and down in a
chimpanzee jig, which appears to be a kind of cross between a Virginia
reel and an Irish break-down, keeping this up until he became exhausted
or the music ceased. When the instrument was given to him and held for
him, he would blow upon it and try to reproduce the sounds which caused
him pleasure, and when he succeeded, an expression of delight would
brighten his flexible features. But his performances were never such as
to warrant his applying for a situation in Theodore Thomas's orchestra
or even in an ordinary street band.
“With the winter of 1887-88 Crowley entered upon his fifth year. He
had attained the weight of nearly one hundred pounds, and when erect he
stood quite four feet two inches in his bare feet. His hands were as big
and knotted as those of a negro laborer inured to toil, and his muscles
were thoroughly developed. His temper did not improve, and it became
necessary to apply a whip to him occasionally to keep him under
discipline. During the winter he had an attack of pneumonia, and when
the fever came on all his bluster and bad temper disappeared. His
strength left him and he became quite helpless, lying all day on the
floor in the center of his cage, his head resting on one arm for a
pillow, with a piece of heavy bagging beneath him for a mattress. When
strangers entered his cage he was too weak to raise his head. Many
physicians called to see him and tender their services. He recognized
their kindness and their purpose with a low grunt, which often ended in
a fit of coughing.
[Illustration: 0175]
“When requested, he would proffer his arm for the physicians to feel his
pulse, turn over that the breathing in his chest might be listened to,
and show his tongue for examination. For a long time he regarded the
thermometer used to secure his temperature with suspicion. It could not
be placed beneath his tongue for fear of the consequences, but, as he
became weaker, and unable to repel the liberties, he was persuaded to
hold the instrument under an arm.
“All that could be done for Crowley seemed of little avail, and for two
weeks he remained in this hopeless state.. His temperature at times rose
to one hundred and five degrees, and pulse beat nearly a hundred. In the
absence of hot applications, only hot teas and liquors could be given
him. A concoction of rum and molasses was prepared and he was prevailed
on, at a critical point of his illness, to swallow a large dose of this,
to which a quantity of brandy was added. Soon after swallowing it
he fell into a heavy stupor which continued for several hours. About
midnight he startled his attendant by suddenly leaping into his trapeze
with all his old nimbleness. He bounded upon his spring-board and for an
hour danced and shouted in his cage, and then staggered and sank down in
a profound perspiration. He was covered with a blanket and slept soundly
until morning.
“When he awoke, there was something like the old grin on his face as he
looked up at his keeper.
“'Comin' around, old man?' asked the keeper tenderly.
“'Oogh, oogh!' muttered Crowley, faintly, and closed his eyes.
“Sure enough he was on the way to recovery. His strength and flesh
returned, and with them his occasional displays of bad temper that
required the use of the whip.”
“What is the difference between the chimpanzee and the gorilla?” Harry
asked, when George had finished reading his description of Mr. Crowley
and his curious ways.
“The name has sometimes been given to all the great apes, including the
gorilla and the orang-outang,” said Mr. Graham, “but it properly belongs
to the lowest of the man-shaped apes of equatorial Africa. The gorilla
stands at the head of the list; then comes the kooloo-kamba, then the
nachiego-mbouve, then the soko, and after these the chimpanzee. They are
all so closely allied that any one but a close student may mistake one
for the other, and this circumstance has led to confusion in the stories
of explorers.
“In size and shape the gorilla approaches more nearly to man than any
other of the monkey family, but he is still a long way from being able
to claim one of us as his brother. The arms are so long that they almost
touch the ground when the animal stands erect, which he does not do
easily.
[Illustration: 0177]
“Mr. du Chaillu was the first explorer to see the gorilla at home; he
killed several specimens of this remarkable creature and sent their
skins to England, but though he tried very hard to bring away a living
sample he was unable to do so. Later travelers have been more fortunate,
and I have read to-day in a newspaper that Boston has just received
from Africa the largest gorilla ever landed in this country. His name
is Jack, and he is five feet in height when standing erect, and measures
seven feet from the end of one outstretched hand to the other. He weighs
about one hundred and twenty-five pounds and exhibits enormous strength,
compared with which that of man seems like a child's. He arrived in a
large box made of planking two and a half inches thick, and when being
removed from the ship he tore large splinters from the hard wood planks
with as much ease as a child would break a twig. The hair, which is very
coarse, and from two to four inches in length, is of a greenish-gray
color, and on the back, legs and arms inclines to a black. His shoulders
are immense. The expression of his face, which is black, is scowling.
The eyes are small, sunken in the head, and the lips large and thin.”
“I suppose the gorilla does not make as good-natured a captive as Mr.
Crowley, for example,” one of the boys remarked.
“Not by any means,” answered Mr. Graham. “He is of an ugly disposition
and generally refuses to be tamed, though occasionally one is found that
is comparatively submissive. Some years ago a gentleman bought a gorilla
that was thought to be about two years old and shipped it to England.
It was not spiteful or obstinate in its ways, but seemed to be very shy;
its owner thought the best plan was to allow it to run about the ship,
and after it was given its freedom it got along very well. It would
take food from the hands of passengers and sailors, but permitted no
familiarity; it formed a great friendship for a bull terrier, and the
two used to play together by the hour, the dog occasionally giving
a very sharp nip which was not resented by the larger animal. But,
unfortunately, the gorilla was missed one morning, and was supposed to
have fallen overboard during the night.”
“The gorilla is the largest monkey of Africa and in fact of the whole
world. The largest Asiatic monkey is found, not on the continent of
Asia, but on the islands of Sumatra and Borneo. He is know to foreigners
as the orang-outang or wild man of the forest, and is generally called
'mias' by the natives. Many of the people believe that the creature is a
human being who lives in a wild state, and hence the name by which he
is described to strangers. In habits, size, and general appearance, the
mias is much like the gorilla, but he is more easily tamed and kept in
captivity. He lives in the forestand travels from tree to tree without
descending to the ground; in fact he sleeps in the trees, making a bed
of leaves among the branches. Mr. Wallace, a naturalist, describes how
he shot at a mias and broke his arm. The animal was in the top of a
tree at the time, and immediately proceeded to break off branches and
make a nest for himself. Mr. Wallace fired at him several times, but
he did not quit his work, and he finally laid down in the nest and died
there from the effects of the shot. It was necessary to cut down the
tree in order to obtain the body, which proved to be a very large one.
[Illustration: 0179]
“Mr. Wallace caught a young mias and managed to keep it six or eight
weeks; he hoped to be able to take it to England, but it died at the end
of that time, probably from the impossibility of obtaining proper food.
He said it would cry like a child when hungry or when its food did
not suit its taste; if its keeper persisted in offering food that it
disliked it would scream and kick violently, exactly like a baby in a
passion. Altogether he thought it very human in its actions, and was
very sorry when it died from intermittent fever.”
Harry asked if the gibbon monkey which comes from Siam and the
neighboring countries was anything like the mias.
Mr. Graham explained that the gibbon was much smaller than the gorilla
or the orang-outang, and more human in his general appearance. He is
a delicate creature and cannot exist in a cold climate even with the
greatest care. An adult gibbon rarely lives more than a few weeks in
captivity, and when captured young the animal does not usually reach
maturity. The gibbons are very gentle in their manners, devotedly
attached to their masters when kindly treated, and not at all
mischievous.
“On a steamer that carried me from Bangkok to Singapore,” said Mr.
Graham, “one of the passengers, Mr. Newman, had a gibbon which he was
undertaking to carry to England. The little fellow was very gentle and
playful and easily made friends with all the passengers. Mr. Newman
said he had kept the monkey at his house in Bangkok and allowed him the
largest liberty.
“The house was full of bric-a-brac and curios of various kinds, but the
monkey went about with the greatest care and never injured anything.
“One of his favorite amusements was to race around the verandah of the
house with his master, the two starting from one point and going in
opposite directions. Frequently he came in the morning and by signs
indicated that he wished a race; Mr. Newman generally allowed the monkey
to beat him, and the creature always seemed pleased at his triumph.
“He sat at the table and drank milk and coffee from a cup, and his
manners in general were far better than those of most monkeys in
captivity.
“Another gibbon that was being carried to England on a steamer would
walk the entire length of the saloon table at dinner without breaking or
even touching anything upon it, although the table might be covered with
glasses and plates and the vessel was rolling heavily. He would start
from the foot of the table, walk to the other end to take a glass of
wine with the captain, and then return in the same careful manner. The
wild gibbons drink by scooping up the water with a single paw, and it
requires some patience to teach them to drink from a glass or cup in a
human fashion.
[Illustration: 0182]
“But of all the monkeys in the world,” continued the gentleman, “the
most comical is the long-nosed monkey of Borneo; as far as known it has
been found nowhere else than in that island. He grows to the size of a
large pointer dog, lives in the same forests with the orang-outang, and
probably associates with him. He has a funny appearance at any age, but
perhaps the funniest when young and the nose has just begun to develop.
Its hair grows naturally down the sides of the head as though parted by
a comb, it has whiskers but no mustaches, and it has a long tail which
starts high enough up the back not to be in the way when the animal sits
down.
“The Dyak natives believe that these monkeys are a race of men who have
fled to the forest in order to avoid the payment of taxes!”
[Illustration: 0183]
“And now,” said Mr. Graham, glancing at his watch, “we will drop the
subject of apes and their kindred until to-morrow.”
The youths took the hint and no further questions were asked that
evening about quadrumana and their strange ways. But the next day
they were ready with several “monkey stories,” some of which are worth
repeating.
Harry found the following, which certainly shows a reasoning power on
the part of the monkey:
“There is on the coast of Java a peculiar long-tailed monkey, and a sand
crab that grows to extraordinary size and possesses great strength in
its claws.
[Illustration: 8184]
The monkeys are particularly fond of these crabs, which live in deep
holes in the sand, but spend much of their time on the outside of their
holes, where they run and hop about. They range in size from that of a
silver dollar to that of our edible crabs. Their claws are not large,
but have a grip that is vise-like. The monkeys make daily raids on the
haunts of these crabs, and occasionally succeed--by creeping stealthily
to within a few feet of a group of them and then springing down upon
them--in capturing one. Usually, however, the crabs are so wary that
while the monkey is in the air during his spring toward them they have
separated and disappeared into the ground. The monkey finding himself
too slow to make a capture, then resorts to a bit of strategy to
secure a dinner; he backs himself up to a hole into which a crab has
disappeared, and sitting down, thrusts his long tail into the hole. The
crab seizes the end of the tail the moment it approaches near enough.
Any one who may have been fortunate enough to hide himself in the
bushes unobserved by the monkey making a raid, will have a hard time to
restrain his laughter when the critical moment of contact between the
crab's claw and the monkey's tail is reached. There is a look of comical
suspense on the monkey's face as he thrusts his tail in the hole. When
the crab closes on the tail the look of suspense departs. The monkey
gives an involuntary start, and then settles on his haunches while
he closes his teeth together with a determined air, and eventually,
springing forward, out comes the tail from the hole with the crab
dangling to it, and the monkey is soon proceeding with his meal.”
“Here's another story,” said George, “which is old but good: 'A Spanish
mule-driver once invested his scant earnings, purchasing a number of red
woolen caps, which form the crown of the turban worn throughout Turkey
and Africa, and set out to make his fortune in the interior.
[Illustration: 9185]
He started before sunrise, and, when the heat of the day came on, lay
down to sleep beneath a tree in a wood. Taking off his hat he opened his
valise, and, putting on a red cap, was soon asleep.
“'When the sun was low in the horizon he awoke, and to his horror, saw
the trees tilled with monkeys in red raps. They had seen the Spaniard
put on the red cap before going to sleep, and followed his example.
The poor Spaniard, with all the gesticulation peculiar to his country,
stamped his foot in anger, and tearing off his red cap threw it on the
ground, when--blessed and unexpected result--all the monkeys followed
his example. He picked up his caps and moved on.'”
“Here's a story from a St Louis newspaper,” said Harry, “about an
incident that must have been very funny:
“'Yesterday was a good day for the monkeys at the Fair grounds, and they
liked it. They frisked about in the sunshine, and cut their antics with
an abandon that showed them to be bubbling over with fun and mischief.
There is one that by some amusing peculiarities becomes an immediate
favorite with every spectator. A gentleman in the crowd yesterday
happened to have a small pocket-mirror, and just for sport passed it to
the favorite. The monkey's behavior, on seeing his face reflected in
the glass, kept the crowd in a roar of laughter for nearly an hour. The
monkey of course failed to recognize the reflection of himself, and took
it for another monkey, and his anxiety to get hold of that monkey was
what made the fun. He would look behind the glass, and feel for it in
such a comical way while he was looking in the glass, that one could not
help laughing. While the glass was close to his eye he gradually bent
over, casually, and noticing that the evanescent monkey was on his back
apparently he dropped the glass and made a sudden grab for him. When he
didn't get him he looked surprised and commenced looking under the straw
to see what had become of him. He was then seized with a luminous idea.
He picked up the glass and ran to the topmost branch of the dead tree
that is erected in the cage, and climbing to the extreme end, again
looked in the glass. It seemed he reasoned that in such a position the
monkey could not get away. He felt for it, grabbed at it, and tried all
sorts of strategy to capture it, notwithstanding repeated failures.'”
That the monkey can be a hero is shown by a story which George found in
_Our Animal Friends_, credited to _The Children's Treasury_.
“A nobleman had a favorite monkey, a large orang-outang.
[Illustration: 8186]
This monkey was very much attached to his master and to the baby boy who
was the pet of the whole family. One day, a fire suddenly broke out in
the house, and everybody was running here and there to put it out,
while the little boy in the nursery was almost forgotten; and, when they
thought of him, the staircase was all in flames. What could be done?
“As they were looking up and wondering, a large hairy hand and arm
opened the window: and presently the monkey appeared with the baby in
his arms, and carefully climbed down over the porch, and brought the
child safely to his nurse. Nobody else could have done it; for a man
cannot climb like a monkey and is not nearly so strong.
“You may imagine how the faithful creature was praised and petted after
that. This is a true story, and the child who was saved was the young
Marquis of Kildare.”
[Illustration: 5187]