Some years ago, giraffes were thought to be fabulous animals; and the
ill-treated Le Vaillant was supposed to have _invented_ them, in spite
of the description which the Romans left of them. He was a little
poetical in his style of writing, which John Bull is not fond of when
facts are narrated, so John Bull begged to doubt his assertions. He
lived, however, to see his veracity established, which the kind old man,
a year or two before his death, assured me was a great happiness to him.
Lord Caledon brought a skin home from the Cape, and badly as it was
stuffed, it began to dawn on the minds of the Europeans, that such an
animal really existed. Then a live one was brought to Paris, and another
to His Majesty George the Fourth, who petted his till it died. Now there
are several living in our Zoological Gardens; some of whom were born in
the Menagerie.
The great peculiarity of the giraffes lies in possessing a very short
body, and very long legs; which formation involves a multitude of
awkward movements; for instance, when they walk fast there is a jerking
in the pace, as if it were not easy to them; and when they gallop, the
hind feet often project beyond the fore feet. Their very long neck is
not arched, but bends obliquely from the shoulders, so that when they
wish to drink from the ground, they are obliged to hold their fore legs
very widely apart. They look best when going slowly, at which time their
step is very stately, and their beautiful head is borne loftily above
other animals; they have two short, bony horns covered with skin, and a
prominence of bone on the top of the forehead; they have large, full
eyes, with which, owing to their convex form, they can see immense
distances in all directions; their ears are long and flexible, and they
have a long, black, prehensile tongue; with this they drag down the
branches of the trees on which they browse. Their upper lip is very
flexible and projects over the under, which greatly assists them in
procuring their food; their tail is long, and has a tuft at the end;
their skin is very glossy, is covered with large angular spots, and is
often an inch and a half thick. Their great enemy is the lion, who
springs upon them when they are drinking, and the affrighted giraffes
start with all the speed of a swift courser, their enemy on their back,
nor stop till they fall from exhaustion or loss of blood. They were
never heard to utter a sound, and therefore are supposed to be perfectly
mute, even when wild.
I was living in Paris when the giraffe, sent to that country, arrived.
She and her keeper, Ati, landed at Bordeaux, amidst most enthusiastic
acclamations, which accompanied them all the way to the metropolis. A
deputation from each large town through which she passed, formed of the
municipal authorities, met her, and one of the most learned savants,
went all the way from the Jardin des Plantes, and accompanied her on
her triumphal march. "La giraffe," however, did not appreciate these
honours, and she was often impatient under the etiquette imposed on her.
On one occasion she broke loose from her cavalcade, Ati and all, and
dashing among the horsemen, scattered them right and left, some on and
some off their steeds; a dignified mayor lay in the dust, and by his
side rolled the pains-taking savant who performed so long a journey in
her service. The enthusiasm did not abate when she reached her
destination. Thirteen thousand more than the usual weekly number passed
over the Pont d'Austerlitz alone, and as the public curiosity did but
increase for six weeks, steps were obliged to be taken to prevent the
multitude from pressing upon her. There were several natives of the East
at that time in the French capital; and they went among others to see
her. The moment she beheld their turbans, she stretched her neck out and
licked their foreheads, no doubt recognizing their head-dresses. Her
love for roses was very great; and she eagerly snatched them from those
who carried or wore them, to their great astonishment; for few could
calculate on the distance which she could reach. I went one day into her
park, holding some carrots in my hand, with some of which I fed her,
then turning to the cows, lying at some distance, who had come with her
to afford a supply of milk for her on the voyage, I began to give some
to them. Without moving her legs from the place where I had left her,
she stretched her long neck and head over my head, and hooking the
carrots up with her tongue, surprised me not a little, for I could not
tell what shadow was coming over me. She was as fond of onions as of
carrots; and this is not surprising, for they are very sweet and mild in
her native country. Her Darfur attendant, Ati, slept in a gallery at the
top of her stables, and there was very little repose for him after
daylight; she routed him up with her nose, and seemed to think because
she was stirring he ought also to be on the alert. This was rather
against his ideas on the subject, as he was apt to stay out late at the
dances in the neighbouring _guinguettes_; and he used to complain, all
the time loving her very dearly.