The Elephant, the human species excepted, is the most considerable
animal of this world; he surpasses all terrestrial beings in size, and
approaches near to man in understanding, as much, at least, as matter
can approach to mind. The elephant, dog, beaver, and ape, of all the
animated beings, have the most admirable instinct; but this instinct,
which is only the product of all the interior and exterior faculties
of the animal, manifests itself very differently in every one of these
species. The dog is naturally as cruel and bloody as the wolf; but his
ferocious nature is to be conquered by gentleness: he only differs
from the other animals of prey, by possessing a degree of sensibility,
which makes him susceptible of affection, and capable of attachment.
He has from nature this disposition, which man has cultivated and
improved by a constant and ancient society with this animal. The
dog alone was worthy of this attention, as he is more capable than
any other quadruped of foreign impressions, his social nature has
improved all his relative faculties. His sensibility, tractable temper,
courage, talents, and even his manners, are modified by the example
and qualities of his matter. He has not then, from nature, all those
qualifications he appears to possess, but has acquired them from his
intercourse with men; he is only more susceptible of tuition than other
animals; far from having, like most of them, a disgust for man, his
inclination leads him to seek their society: actuated by a desire of
pleasing, his tractability, fidelity, constant submission, and that
attention necessary to act in consequence of man's orders, are the
result of this natural sentiment.
The ape, on the contrary, is untractable and eccentric; his nature
is perverse; he has no relative sensibility, no gratitude for good
treatment, and no remembrance of favours; he is naturally averse from
the society of man, he hates constraint, is mischievous by nature,
and inclined to do every thing hurtful and disagreeable. But these
real faults are compensated by seeming perfections. His exterior
conformation resembles that of man, he has arms, hands, and fingers.
The use of these parts alone, makes him superior in dexterity to
other animals; and the affinities to us which he then possesses by a
similarity of motions, and the conformity of his actions, please and
deceive us, and induce us to attribute to interior qualities, what
depends merely on the formation of his members.
The beaver, who seems inferior to the dog and ape, by his individual
faculties, has nevertheless received from Nature a gift almost
equivalent to that of speech; he makes himself so well understood by
those of his own species, as to bring them together; to act in concert,
and to undertake and execute extensive and continued labours in common;
and this social love, as well as the product of their reciprocal
understanding, have better claims to our admiration, than the dexterity
of the ape, or the faithfulness of the dog.
Thus the dog's genius is only borrowed; the ape has but the appearance
of sagacity, and the beaver is only sensible in regard to himself, and
those of his species. The elephant is superior to them all three, for
in him are united all their most eminent qualities. The hand is the
principal organ of the ape's dexterity; the elephant is equally so
with his trunk, which serves him instead of arms and hands, by it he
can lift up, and seize small as well as large objects, carry them to
his mouth, place them on his back, hold them fast, or throw them to a
distance; he has at the same time the docility of the dog; he is, like
him, susceptible of gratitude, capable of a strong attachment, attends
upon man without reluctance, and submits to him, not so much by force
as good treatment; serves him with zeal, intelligence, and fidelity;
in fine, the elephant, the same as the beaver, likes the society of
his own species, and by whom he is understood. They are often seen to
assemble together, disperse, and act in concert, and if they do not
carry on any work in common, it is, perhaps, only for want of room and
tranquillity; for men have been very anciently multiplied in all the
regions inhabited by the elephant; he consequently lives in fear and
anxiety, and is no where a peaceful possessor of a space large and free
enough to establish a secure habitation. We have seen that all these
advantages are requisite to manifest the talents of the beaver, and
that wherever men are settled, he loses his industry, and ceases to
build. Every being has its relative value in Nature. To judge of the
elephant, we must allow him to possess the sagacity of the beaver,
the dexterity of the ape, the sentiment of the dog with the peculiar
advantages of strength, bigness, and longevity. We must not forget his
arms, or tusks, with which he can pierce through and conquer the lion.
We should also recollect that he shakes the ground at every step; that
with his trunk he roots out trees; that with the strength of his body,
he makes a breach in the wall; that though tremendous by his strength,
he is more invincible by the resistance of his bulky massiveness, and
the thickness of his skin; that he can carry on his back an armed tower
filled with many men; and that he alone moves machines, and carries
burthens, which six horses cannot move. To this prodigious strength, he
joins courage, prudence, coolness, and an exact obedience; he preserves
moderation even in his most violent passions; he is more constant than
impetuous in love: in anger he does not forget his friends; he never
attacks any but those who have given him some offence; and he remembers
favours as long as injuries. Having no taste for flesh, and feeding
chiefly upon vegetables, he is not naturally an enemy to any living
creature; he is beloved by them all, since all of them respect, and
no one has cause to fear him. For these reasons, men at all times
have had a sort of veneration for this first of animals. The ancients
considered the elephant as a prodigy, a miracle of Nature, and he is
in reality her greatest effort; they have attributed to him without
hesitation, intellectual qualities and moral virtues.
Pliny, Ælian, Solinus, Plutarch, and other more modern authors,
have even given to this animal rational faculties, a natural innate
religion, the observation of a daily worship, such as that of the sun
and moon, the use of ablution before adoration, a spirit of divination,
piety towards heaven and their fellow creatures whom they assist at
their deaths; and after their decease, express their regret by tears,
and cover them with earth. The Indians, prepossessed with the opinion
of the metempsychosis, are to this day persuaded, that a body so
majestic as that of the elephant cannot be animated but by the soul of
a great man, or a king. They respect at Siam,[AE] Laos, and Pegu, white
elephants as the living manes of the emperors of India. They have
each of them a palace, a number of servants, golden vessels, exquisite
dainties, magnificent trappings, and are absolved from all labour and
obedience; the living emperor is the only one before whom they kneel
down, and the monarch returns the salute. These flattering attentions,
this respect, these offerings flatter them but do not inspire them with
vanity; they have not consequently a human soul, and this circumstance
should be sufficient to prove it to the Indians.
[Footnote AE: The white elephant, so much respected in India, and who
has been the cause of so many wars, is very small and wrinkled with
age. He is attended by several mandarins who are appointed to take care
of him, and his victuals is presented to him in large golden vessels;
his apartment is very magnificent, and gilt all round. At about a
league from the country-house belonging to the king, is another white
elephant, kept as a successor to the former, whom they say is 300 years
old. He is also attended by mandarins, and his mother and aunt are kept
with him out of respect. _Premier Voyage du P. Tachard._]
Without adopting the credulities of antiquity, and the puerile fictions
of superstition, the elephant is an animal still worth the attention
of a philosopher, who ought to consider him as a being of the first
distinction. He deserves to be known, and to be observed; we shall
therefore write his history with impartiality; we shall consider him
at first in his state of nature when he is free and independent, and
afterwards in his servile condition, when the will of his master
becomes the cause of his actions.
In a wild state, the elephant is neither sanguinary nor ferocious; he
is of a mild temper, and never makes a bad use of his arms, or his
strength; for he never employs or exerts them but in his own defence,
or in protecting others of his species. His manners are social, for he
is seldom wandering alone: they commonly walk in troops, the oldest
leading, and the next in age bringing up the rear; the young and the
weak keeping in the middle. The females carry their young, and hold
them close with their trunks. They only observe this order in perilous
marches when they go to feed on cultivated lands; they travel with
less precaution in forests and solitary places, but without separating
to such a distance as not to be able to give to each other mutual
assistance, and warnings of danger. Some, however, straggle, and
remain behind, and it is none but these the hunters dare attack, for
a small army would be requisite to assail the whole herd, and they
could not conquer without a great loss of men. It is even dangerous to
do them the least injury, for they go straight to the offender, and
notwithstanding the great heaviness of their bodies they walk so fast
that they easily overtake the most agile man; they pierce him through
with their tusks, or seize him with their trunks; throw him like a
stone, and then kill him by treading him under their feet. But it is
only when they have been provoked that they become so furious and so
implacable; they do no harm to those who do not disturb them; yet,
as they are very suspicious, and sensible of injuries, it is proper
to avoid them; and the travellers who frequent the countries where
they are numerous, light great fires in the night, and beat drums,
to prevent their approach. It is said that when they have been once
attacked by men, or have fallen into a snare, they never forget it,
but seek for revenge on all occasions. As they have a most exquisite
sense of smelling, perhaps more perfect than that of any other animal,
they smell a man at a great distance, and can easily follow him by the
scent. The ancients have asserted that the elephant tears up the grass
where the hunters have passed, and with their trunks convey it to each
other, in order to give information of the passage and march of the
enemy. These animals are fond of the banks of rivers, deep valleys,
shady places, and marshy grounds. They cannot go long without water,
which they make thick and muddy before they drink it. They often fill
their trunks with water, either to convey it to their mouths, or only
to cool their noses, and to amuse themselves in sprinkling it around
them. They cannot support cold, and suffer equally from excessive heat;
to avoid the burning rays of the sun, they penetrate into the thickest
recesses of the forests. They bathe often in the water; the enormous
size of their bodies is rather an advantage to them in swimming, and
they do not sink so deep in the water as other animals; besides, the
length of their trunks, which they erect in the air, and through which
they breathe, takes from them all fear of being drowned.
Their common food is roots, herbs, leaves, and young branches; they
also eat fruit and corn, but they have a dislike to flesh and fish.
When one of them finds a good pasture, he calls the others, and invites
them to come and feed with him. As they consume a great quantity of
fodder, they often change their place, and when they find cultivated
lands they make a prodigious waste; their bodies being of an enormous
weight, they destroy ten times more with their feet, than they consume
for their food, which may be reckoned at 150lbs. of grass daily; and
as they always keep in great numbers together, they will lay waste a
large territory in an hour's time; for this reason the Indians and
Negroes exert every means to prevent their visits, and to drive them
away; they make great noises, and large fires round their cultivated
lands; yet, notwithstanding these precautions, the elephants often
take possession of them, drive away the cattle and men, and sometimes
pull down their cottages. It is difficult to frighten them, as they
are little susceptible of fear; the only things that can stop their
progress are fire-works, and crackers thrown amongst them; the sudden
and repeated noise of which sometimes occasions them to turn back. It
is very difficult to part them, for they commonly act together whether
they attack, proceed, or turn back.
When the females come in season this social intercourse yields to a
more lively sentiment; the herd separate in pairs, having each chosen
their mates; they then seek for solitary places, and in their march
love seems to precede and modesty to follow them; for they observe the
greatest mystery in their amours, and they have never been seen to
couple. They avoid the inspection of their own species, and, perhaps,
know better than ourselves the pure delight of secret pleasure, being
wholly taken with one beloved object. They retire into shady woods
and most solitary places, to give themselves up, without disturbance
or restraint, to the impulses of Nature, which are strong and lasting,
as they have long intervals between their seasons of love. The female
goes two years with young; when she is in that condition the male
abstains from her, and thus are they subjected to the influence of love
but once in three years. They bring forth only one young, which has
teeth at its birth, and is then bigger than a wild boar; his tusks are
not visible, but they appear soon after, and when six months old they
are some inches long. At that age the elephant is bigger than the ox,
and the tusks continue to increase till he is much advanced in years,
provided the animal is in health, and at liberty, for it is scarcely
to be imagined how much slavery and unnatural food change his natural
habit and constitution.
The elephant is easily tamed, brought into submission, and instructed,
and as he is the strongest and most sensible of animals, he is more
serviceable than any of them; but he seems always to feel his servile
condition, for though subject to the powerful impressions of love they
never couple, nor produce in a state of domesticity. His passion,
irritated by constraint, degenerates into fury; as he cannot indulge
it without witnesses he becomes violent and intractable, and the
strongest chains and fetters are often found necessary to stop his
impetuosity, and subdue his anger. Thus the elephant differs from all
domestic animals which man treats or manages as beings without will;
he is not like these born slaves, which we mutilate or multiply for
our use. Here the individual alone is a slave, the species remains
independent, and constantly refuses to increase for the benefit of
their tyrants. This alone shews in the elephant elevated sentiments
superior to the nature of common brutes. To be agitated by the most
ardent desires, and to deny themselves the satisfaction of enjoying
them; to be subjected to all the fury of love, and yet not to violate
the laws of modesty, are, perhaps, the highest efforts of human virtue,
but which in these majestic animals are all suggested by instinct, and
from which they never deviate. Enraged that they cannot be gratified
without witnesses their fury becomes stronger than their passion of
love, destroys the effects of it, and provokes, at the same time, that
anger which, in those instants, renders the elephant more dangerous
than any other wild animal.
We should be inclined to doubt this fact, were it possible, but
naturalists, historians, and travellers, all agree, that the elephants
never produce in a domestic state. The kings of India keep a great
number of them, and after having endeavoured in vain to make them
multiply, like other domestic animals, they found it necessary to part
the males from the females, to prevent that fury which is occasioned
by the irritation of desires they will not satisfy in a state of
subjection. There are, therefore, no domestic elephants but what have
been wild, and the manner of taking, taming, and bringing them into
submission deserves particular attention. In the middle of forests,
and in the vicinity of the places frequented by the elephants, a spot
is chosen, and encircled with palisadoes; the strongest trees of the
forest serve for stakes, to which are fastened cross pieces of timber,
which support the other stakes. A man may easily pass through this
palisado; a large opening is also left, through which the elephant may
go in, and over it is a trap, or large stake, which is let down to
shut the opening after the animal has entered. To bring him to this
inclosure the hunters take a tame female with them into the forest,
who is in season, and when when they think she is near enough to be
heard they oblige her to make the cry of love, the wild male answers
immediately, and begins his march to meet her. She is then led towards
the inclosure, repeating her call now and then; she arrives first,
and the male following her track enters through the same gate. As
soon as he perceives himself enclosed his ardour vanishes, and when
he discovers the hunters he becomes furious; they throw ropes at him
with a running knot, by which they fetter his legs and trunk; they then
bring two or three tame elephants, led by dextrous men, and endeavour
to tie him to one of them; in short, by dint of dexterity, strength,
terror, and caresses, they succeed in taming him in a few days.
I shall not enter into more particulars on this subject, but refer
to those travellers who have been ocular witnesses of the manner of
hunting the elephants;[AF] it varies according to different countries,
and according to the power and the abilities of those who make war
against them, for instead of erecting, like the kings of Siam, walls,
terraces, or making palisades around large inclosures, the poor negroes
use the most simple snares; they dig pits in the passages, where the
elephants are known to pass, so deep as to prevent their getting out
again when fallen in.
[Footnote AF: For the purpose of hunting the elephant, they have at a
little distance from Luovo, a kind of amphitheatre, surrounded with
high walls, where those are placed who wish to see the sport. In the
middle of these walls a palisade is formed, with strong stakes fixed
in the ground; a pretty large opening is left on the side next the
forest, and a smaller one towards the city, into which the elephant
cannot enter without difficulty. Upon the day fixed upon for the chace,
the hunters go into the forests upon some female elephants covering
themselves with leaves to prevent being seen; having reason to suppose
there are wild ones near, they make the females utter certain cries,
and which the wild males instantly answer; the hunter then drives the
female back to the above amphitheatre, whither the male constantly
follows her, and being entered the large opening is immediately shut.
At the one we were present, the females went out on the other side,
but from the smallness of the size the wild one refused to enter;
the females repeated their cries, and some of the Siamese began to
irritate him, by clapping their hands, and crying _pat, pat_, while
others struck him with long poles that had sharp points, all of whom he
pursued, but they escaped by slipping between the palisades, sufficient
spaces being left for that purpose; at length he fixed upon one whom he
pursued with great fury, and the man running into this narrow passage
the elephant followed him, but the moment he entered, the bars, before
and behind, were let fall, and he no sooner found himself in the snare
than he made the most violent efforts, and raised the most hideous
cries. The hunters then endeavoured to sooth him by flinging quantities
of water upon his body and trunk, rubbing him with leaves, putting oil
on his ears, and bringing tame elephants, who seemed to caress him with
their trunks, one of which, properly trained, was mounted by a man who
made him go backwards and forwards to shew as it were the stranger that
he had nothing to fear. Ropes were thrown round his hind legs and body,
and then the bar was taken away from the further end, where being come
he was tied to two tame elephants one of each side of him these led
him the way while another pushed him behind with his head until they
came to a kind of shade where he was fastened to a large post, like the
capstan of a ship, and there left till the next day. While here, one
of the Bramins, or priests, dressed in white, and mounted on another
elephant, goes to him and sprinkles him with consecrated water, which
they imagine has the power of divesting him of his ferocity. Next day
he is marched off with the other elephants, and by the end of the
fifteenth, they are in general perfectly tame. _Premier Voyage du P.
Tachard._
In Ethiopia they take great numbers of these animals by forming an
inclosure in the thickest parts of the forests, leaving a sufficient
opening, with a door lying flat on the ground; the hunters sit to watch
for the elephant on a tree and as soon as he enters they draw up the
door with a rope, then descend and attack him with arrows, but if by
any chance he gets out of his confinement, he kills every man that he
can come near. _L'Afrique de Marmol._
At Ceylon they take the elephant by digging deep ditches lightly
covering them over, in places frequented by these animals, who coming
on this covering in the night, unavoidably fall in and are unable to
get out again; here the slaves supply them with food, to whom they,
in a short time, are so accustomed, and familiar, as to be led up to
Goa perfectly tame. They have also a mode of hunting them with two
tame females, whom they take into the forests, and coming near a wild
elephant, they let them loose; these go up to the strange one on each
side, press so closely against him as to force him their way, and
render it impossible for him to escape. _Memoir es touchant les Indes
Orientales. Voyages de P. Philippe, Thevenot, &c._]
The elephant, when once tamed, becomes the most tractable and
submissive of all animals; he conceives an affection for his leader,
caresses him, and seems to foresee whatever can please him; in a
little time he understands signs, and even the expression of sounds;
he distinguishes the tones of command, anger, or approbation, and acts
accordingly. He never mistakes the voice of his master; he receives his
orders with attention, executes them with prudence and eagerness, but
without precipitation, for his motions are always measured, and his
character seems to participate of the gravity of his body. He is easily
taught to bend his knees to assist those who ride on his back; he
caresses his friends, salutes the persons he is directed to take notice
of, lifts up burdens, and helps to load himself with his trunk; he has
no aversion to being clothed, and seems to delight in a golden harness
or magnificent trappings; he is easily put into traces, and often
employed in drawing; he draws evenly, without slopping or any marks
of dislike, provided he is not insulted by unseasonable correction,
and that his driver seems to approve the spontaneous exertion of his
strength. His conductor is mounted on his neck, and makes use of an
iron rod, hooked at the end, with which he strikes him on the head, or
sides, to make him turn, or increase his pace; but a word is commonly
sufficient, especially, if the animal has bad time to make himself
well acquainted with his conductor, and has a confidence in him. His
attachment is sometimes so strong, and so lasting, and his affection so
great, that he will refuse to serve a second person, and has been known
to die of grief when in a fit of rage he has happened to destroy his
keeper.
The species of the elephant is numerous, though they bring forth but
one in two or three years. In proportion to the shortness of the life
of an animal is its multiplicity of production; and in the elephant
the duration of its existence compensates for the smallness of its
number; and if it be true that they live 200 years, and propagate
until they are 120, each couple may bring forth forty in that time.
Besides, having nothing to fear from other animals, and being taken by
men with great difficulty and danger, the species has not decreased,
and is generally dispersed in all the southern parts of Africa and
Asia. They are numerous at Ceylon, in the Mogul dominions, in Bengal,
Siam, Pegu, and the other territories of India. They are perhaps, in
a greater number in the South of Africa, except some parts which
they have abandoned, since they have been so fully inhabited by men.
They are faithful to their country, and constant to their climate,
for though they can live in temperate regions it does not seem that
they ever attempted to settle, or even to travel into them. They were
formerly unknown in Europe. It does not seem that Homer, who speaks
of the ivory, knew the animal from whom it is obtained. Alexander was
the first who rode upon an elephant in Europe. He sent into Greece
those which he took at Porus, and were, perhaps, the same which Pyrrhus
employed several years after against the Romans, in the Tarentine
war, and with which Curius adorned his triumph into Rome. Hannibal
afterwards brought them from Africa, made them pass the Alps, and led
them almost to the gates of Rome.
From time immemorial the Indians have made use of elephants in war.
Among those nations, unacquainted with military discipline, they
formed their best troop, and as long as battles were decided by iron
weapons they commonly vanquished. Yet we learn by history that the
Greeks and Romans soon used themselves to those monsters of war; they
opened their ranks to let them go through; they did not attempt to
wound them, but threw all their darts against their leaders, who were
obliged to turn all their attention to the elephant, when separated
from their troops. Now that fire is become the element of war, and the
principal instrument of death, elephants, who are afraid of noise and
flame, would be rather an incumbrance in battle, and more dangerous
than useful. The kings of India still arm their elephants in war, but
it is more for shew than for real service; yet they derive from these
animals the same utility that arises from an army which is to enslave
their equals; they make use of them to subdue the wild elephants. The
most powerful monarchs of the Indies have now above 200 elephants for
war. They keep many others for different services, and to carry the
large cages in which their women travel; it is a perfectly safe way of
travelling, for the elephant never stumbles; but time is required to be
used to the motions of his pace. The best place is upon the neck, as
you there ride more easy than on the shoulders or the back; but in war,
or hunting, several men ride the same elephant: the conductor rides on
his neck, and the hunters, or warriors, are placed on other parts of
his body.
In those happy regions, where our cannon and our murdering arts are
yet scarcely known, they fight still upon elephants. At Cochin, and
in the other parts of Malabar, they make no use of horses, and all
those who do not fight on foot are mounted upon elephants. In Tonquin,
Siam, and Pegu, the king, and all the grandees, ride on nothing but
elephants; on festival days they are preceded and followed by a great
number of these animals, superbly caparisoned, and covered with the
richest stuffs. They surround their tusks with gold and silver rings;
they paint their ears and cheeks; they crown them with garlands, and
their harness is ornamented with little bells; they seem to delight in
magnificent attire, and the more their trappings are rich and splendid
the more they are cheerful and caressing. It is only in the East
Indies that the elephants are so far improved, for in Africa they can
scarcely tame them. The Asiatics, anciently civilized, have reduced
the education of the elephant into a system, and they have instructed
and modified him according to their manners. But of all the Africans
the Carthaginians were the only people who trained up the elephants to
war, because at the time of the splendor of their commonwealth they
were, perhaps, more civilized than any other of the eastern nations.
At present no wild elephants are found in all that part of Africa on
this side Mount Atlas; there are even few beyond those mountains, as
far as the river Senegal. But they are numerous in Senegal, in Guinea,
in Congo, and on the Teeth Coast, in the countries of Anto, Acra,
Benin, and all the other southern parts of Africa, as far as the Cape
of Good Hope, except some provinces very populous, such as Fida, Ardra,
&c. They are also found in Abyssinia, in Ethiopia, in Nigritia, on the
eastern coast, and in the inland parts of Africa. They are also in the
great islands of India and Africa, such as Madagascar, Java, and the
Philippines.
After comparing the relations of travellers and historians it seems
that elephants are actually more numerous in Africa than in Asia; they
are there also less mistrustful, and not so shy, as if they knew the
unskilfulness and the little power of the men who inhabit this part
of the world; they come daily without fear to their habitations, and
treat the negroes with that natural and scornful indifference they
have for other animals; they do not consider those men as powerful and
formidable beings, but as a species whose skill consists in laying
snares, without having the courage to encounter them, and absolutely
ignorant of the art of reducing them into subjection. It is by this
art known, from the earliest times, to the eastern nations, that their
species is diminished. The wild elephants, which they tame, become by
their captivity, like so many voluntary eunuchs, which daily drain
the source of generation; but, on the contrary, in Africa, where they
are all free, the whole species propagate, and all the individuals
constantly concur to its increase. I do not know any other cause
for this difference in their numbers, for, in considering the other
effects, it seems the south of India, and the east of Africa, are the
natural countries, and the most suitable to the elephant. He is there
much larger and stronger than in Guinea, or in the other western parts
of Africa. He fears excessive heat, and never inhabits the burning
sands; he is most frequently found on the flat countries near the
rivers, and never on the hilly parts of Africa; but in India the most
powerful and the most courageous of the species, and who have the
strongest and longest tusks, are the elephants of the mountains; they
inhabit the high grounds, where the air being more temperate, the water
more pure, and the food more wholesome, they gradually arrive to the
full perfection of their nature.
In general the elephants of Asia are larger and superior in strength,
to those of Africa; particularly those of Ceylon, which exceed in
courage and sagacity even those of Asia. Probably they owe these
qualifications to their more improved education; it is, however,
certain, that all travellers have celebrated the elephants of this
island, where the ground is interspersed with mountains, which rise
gradually towards the centre, and where the heat is not so excessive as
in Senegal, Guinea, and other western parts of Africa. The ancients,
who knew no more of this part of the world, but the countries seated
between Mount Atlas and the Mediterranean, had observed, that the
elephants of Lybia were much smaller than those of India. There are not
any elephants at this time, in that part of Africa, which proves, as
mentioned in the article of the Lion, that men are more numerous there
now than they were in the ages of Carthage. The elephants have retired
in proportion as men have molested them; but in travelling through the
climates of Africa, they have not changed their nature; for those of
Senegal, Guinea, &c. are at this time smaller than those of India.
The strength of these animals is proportionate to their bigness. The
elephants of India carry with ease burdens of three or four thousand
pounds weight; the smallest, that is, those of Africa, lift up freely
with their trunks, burdens of two hundredweight, and place them on
their shoulders; they take into their trunks a great quantity of water,
which they throw out around them, at seven or eight feet distance; they
can carry a weight of a thousand pounds upon their tusks; with their
trunks they break off branches, and with their tusks they root out
trees. Their strength may be judged of by their agility, comparatively
to the bulk of their bodies; they walk as fast as a horse goes on
an easy trot; and they run as fast as a horse can gallop; which
seldom happens in their wild state, except when they are provoked
or frightened. The tame elephants are commonly walked; they travel
easily, and without fatigue, fifteen or twenty leagues a day; and, when
hurried, they can travel thirty-five or forty. Their steps are heard
at a great distance, and they may be followed by their tracks, for
the marks they leave on the ground are fifteen or eighteen inches in
diameter.
A domestic elephant does, perhaps, to his master more real service than
five or six horses; but he requires much care and abundance of good
food; it is computed that he consumes to the amount of an hundred
pence per day. He is commonly fed with raw or boiled rice mixed with
water; and it is reckoned he wants one hundred pounds of rice daily to
be kept in his full vigour; they give him also grass to cool him, for
he is often over-heated, and must be led to the water that he may bathe
two or three times a day; he easily learns to wash himself; he takes
the water up in his trunk, carries it to his mouth, drinks part, and
then by elevating his trunk, lets the remainder flow over every part
of his body. To give an idea of the services he is able to perform, it
is sufficient to observe, that all the bags, bales, and parcels, which
are transported from one place to another in the Indies, are carried by
elephants; that they carry burdens on their bodies, their necks, their
tusks, and even with their mouths, by giving them the end of a rope
which they hold with their teeth.
When the elephant is taken care of he lives a long time even in
captivity; and it is to be presumed, that in a state of liberty his
life is still longer. Some authors say he lives four or five hundred
years; others, two or three hundred; and others, one hundred and
twenty, thirty, and even one hundred and fifty years. I take this last
opinion to be the nearest to the truth; and if it is certain, that
captive elephants live one hundred and twenty or thirty years; those
who are free, and enjoy all the conveniences and rights of Nature,
must live at least two hundred; besides, if their gestation lasts
two years, and thirty years are required to bring them to their full
growth, we may be assured that their life extends to the term we have
mentioned. It is not so much the captivity, as the change of climate
which shortens their existence: whatever care is taken of the elephant,
he does not live long in temperate, and still shorter in cold climates.
The elephant which the King of Portugal sent to Louis XIV. in 1668, and
who was then but four years old, died in his seventeenth, in January
1681, and lived only thirteen years in the menagerie of Versailles,
where he was treated with care and tenderness, and fed with profusion;
he had every day four score pounds of bread, twelve pints of wine, two
buckets of porridge, with four or five pounds of bread in it, the last
was changed every other day for two buckets of rice boiled in water,
without reckoning what was given him by visitors. He had, besides,
every day a sheaf of corn to amuse himself; for, after eating the ears,
he made large whisps of the straw, and used them to drive away the
flies. He delighted in breaking the straw in small bits, which he did
with great dexterity with his trunk; and as he was led to walk daily,
he pulled and eat the grass. The elephant who was lately at Naples,
though the heat is greater than at Paris, lived there but a few years.
Those which have been transported to Petersburg perished successively,
notwithstanding they were well sheltered, covered, and warmed with
stoves; consequently, we may conclude, that this animal cannot live in
a state of nature, nor multiply in Europe. But I am surprised that the
Portuguese, who first knew the use and value of these animals in the
East Indies, did not transport them into the warm climate of Brasil,
where they might have propagated, if left at liberty.
The common colour of the elephant is of ash grey, or blackish. White
ones, as we have observed, are extremely scarce: and some have been
seen in the Indies of a reddish colour; these and the white are
much esteemed; but these varieties are so scarce, that they cannot
be considered as a race distinct from the species, but rather as
accidental qualities peculiar to individuals; for otherwise, the
countries of the white, red, and black elephants would be known, as
well as the climates of white, red, and black men, and those of a
copper colour. "Elephants of three different sorts are found in the
Indies; (says Father Vincent Marie) the white, which are the largest,
most gentle, and of the best temper, are worshipped as gods by several
nations; the red, such as those of Ceylon, though the smallest, are the
most valiant, the strongest, and best for war, and the other elephants,
either from natural inclination, or perceiving in them something
superior, shew them a great respect; the third species, is that of the
black, which are the most common, and the least esteemed." This author
is the only one who has intimated that Ceylon was the peculiar climate
of red elephants; other travellers make no mention of such a fact. He
also affirms, that the elephants of Ceylon are smaller than the others.
Thevenot says the same thing in his voyage, but others assert the
contrary. Father Vincent Marie also, is the only author who has said
the white elephants are the largest. Father Tachard assures us on the
contrary, that the white elephant of the king of Siam was rather small,
though very old. After comparing the relations of travellers, in regard
to the size of elephants in different countries, it seems, that the
smallest are those of North and West Africa, and that the ancients, who
only knew the northern part of Africa, had some reason to say that,
in general, the elephants of the Indies were much larger than those of
Africa. But in the eastern parts of this quarter of the world, unknown
to them, the elephants are at least as large as those of India; for
those of Siam and Pegu excel in bulk the elephants of Ceylon; which,
however, are the most courageous and intelligent, according to the
unanimous opinion of travellers.
Having thus collected the different facts relative to the species,
let us now examine minutely the faculties of the individual; his
senses, motion, size, strength, address, sagacity, and intelligence.
The elephant has very small eyes, compared to the enormous size of
his body, but they are bright and lively; and what distinguishes them
from the eyes of all other animals, is their pathetic expression of
sentiment, and an almost rational direction of all their motions.
He turns them slowly and gently towards his master, and when he
speaks, the animal has the appearance of listening to him with an
eye of friendship and attention, and by an expressive glance seems
to penetrate into his wishes, and anticipate his desires. He seems
to reflect, to think, and to deliberate, and never acts till he has
examined and observed several times, without passion or precipitation,
the signs of which he is to obey. Dogs, the eyes of which have much
expression, are animals too lively to allow us to distinguish their
successive sensations; but as the elephant is naturally grave and
sedate, we may read in his eyes, whose motions are slow, the order and
succession of his interior affections.
He has a quick hearing, and this organ, like that of smelling, is
outwardly more marked in the elephant than in any other animal. His
ears are very large, even in proportion to his body; they are flat,
and close to the head, like those of a man; they commonly hang down,
but he raises and moves them with such facility that he makes use of
them to defend his eyes against the inconveniency of dust and flies.
He delights in the sound of musical instruments, and moves in exact
time to the sound of the trumpet and tabor. He has an exquisite sense
of smelling, and he is passionately fond of perfumes of all sorts,
and especially of fragrant flowers; he gathers them one by one, makes
nosegays of them, which he smells with eagerness, and then carries to
his mouth, as if he intended to taste them. Orange flowers are one of
his most exquisite dainties; he strips with his trunk an orange tree
of all its verdure, eating the fruit, the flowers, the leaves, and even
the young branches. He chuses in meadows odoriferous plants, and in the
woods he gives the preference to cocoa, palm, and sago trees, and as
these trees are pithy and tender he not only cats the leaves and fruits
but even the branches, the trunk, and the roots, for when he cannot
break the branches with his trunk, he roots up the trees with his tusks.
In regard to the sense of feeling, it centres in his trunk; but it is
as delicate and as distinct in that as in the human hand. This trunk,
composed of membranes, nerves, and muscles, is, at the same time, a
member capable of motion, and an organ of sentiment. The animal can
not only move and bend it, but he can shorten, lengthen, and turn it
all ways. The extremity of the trunk is terminated by a protuberance,
which projects on the upper part like a finger, by which the elephant
does the same as we do with our fingers; he picks up from the ground
the smallest pieces of money; he gathers herbs and flowers, chusing
them one after another; he unties knots, opens and shuts doors, by
turning the keys or slipping the bolts: he learns to draw regular
characters with an instrument as small as a pen. We cannot even deny
that this hand of the elephant has several advantages over ours: it is
equally flexible and as dexterous in feeling or laying hold of objects.
These operations are made by means of that sort of finger, seated at
the superior part of the border, which surrounds the extremity of the
trunk, in the middle of which there is a concavity, in the form of a
cup, and at the bottom of it are the two apertures, which convey the
sense of smelling and respiration. The elephant, consequently, unites
in his trunk both the senses of feeling and smelling; and he may join
the power of his lungs to the action of his hand, either drawing
liquids by suction, or lifting up very heavy burdens, by applying the
extremity of his trunk, and making within an empty place by respiration.
Thus the delicacy of feeling, exquisiteness of smelling, facility
of motion, and the power of suction, are united in the trunk of the
elephant. Of all the instruments which Nature has so liberally bestowed
on her favourite productions, the trunk of the elephant is, perhaps,
the most complete and the most admirable; it is not only an organic
instrument, but a triple sense, whose united functions are, at the
same time, the cause, and produce the effect of that intelligence,
and of those peculiar faculties which distinguish the elephant, and
raise him above all other quadrupeds. He is less subject than other
animals to errors of sight, because he rectifies them quickly by the
sense of feeling; and making use of his trunk as a long arm to feel
distant bodies, he acquires, like men, distinct ideas of distance. But
other animals (except the monkey, and some others, who have the fore
feet similar to arms and hands) cannot acquire the same ideas without
running over that space with their bodies. Feeling is, of all the
senses, that which has the most relation to knowledge. The delicacy of
feeling gives the idea of the substance of the bodies; the flexibility
of the trunk gives the idea of their exterior form; the power of
suction, that of their weight; smelling, that of their qualities;
and its length, that of their distance. They, therefore, with the
same member, and by one simultaneous act, feel, perceive, and judge
of divers things at once. His multiplied sensations are equivalent
to reflection; and though this animal is, like others, incapable of
thinking, as his sensations are combined in the same organ, are coeval
and undivided, it is not surprising that he has ideas of his own, and
that he acquires in a little time those we inculcate to him. His
remembrance should be more perfect than that of any other animal, for
memory only depends chiefly on the circumstances of action; and no
sensation, however lively, can leave a lasting impression, when single
and abstractedly taken; but several combined sensations leave deep
impressions, so that if the elephant cannot recall an idea by feeling
alone, the sensations of smelling and suction, which act at the same
time, help him in recalling them to remembrance. With us the best
method to improve the memory is to make use successively of all our
senses to consider an object; and it is for want of that combined use
of the senses that man forgets more things than he can recollect.
Although the elephant has a more retentive memory, and more
intelligence than any other animal, his brain is proportionally smaller
than most of them, which I only mention as a proof that the brain is
not the seat of sentiment, the _sensorium commune_, which resides, on
the contrary, in the nerves of the senses, and in the membranes of the
head, which are so numerously distributed on the trunk of the elephant,
as to be equal to all those on the rest of the body. It is, therefore,
by virtue of this singular combination of faculties in the trunk, that
this animal is superior to all others in intelligence, notwithstanding
his enormous size, and the disproportion of his form; for the elephant
is, at the same time, a miracle of intelligence, and a monster of
matter. His body is very thick, without any suppleness; his neck short
and stiff, his head small and deformed, his ears and nose exceedingly
large; his eyes, mouth, genital members, and tail, very small in
proportion; his legs are like massive pillars, straight and stiff; his
feet so short and small, that they are hardly perceptible, and his skin
hard, thick, and callous; all these deformities are more remarkable,
from being exhibited on a large scale, and most of them being peculiar
to himself alone, no other animal having either the head, feet, nose,
ears, or tusks, placed like those of the elephant.
From this singular conformation he suffers several inconveniences; he
can scarcely move his head, or turn back without making a circuit. The
hunters who attack him behind, or on the flanks, avoid the effects of
his vengeance by circular motions, and they have sufficient time to
strike him again whilst he is turning against them. His legs, which
are not so stiff as his neck and body, yet bend very slowly, and
with difficulty; their articulation with the thighs is very strong.
His knee is situated like that of a man, and his feet as low; but his
foot has no strength nor elastic power, and the knee is hard, without
suppleness; yet whilst the elephant is in his youth and vigour, he
bends it to lay down, to let himself be loaded, or to help his leaders
to mount him; but when he is old or infirm, this motion becomes so
difficult that he sleeps standing; and, if he is compelled to lay
down, the use of engines are necessary to raise him. His tusks, which
become of an enormous weight when he grows old, not being seated in
a vertical position, as the horns of other animals, form two long
levers, and being in an almost horizontal direction, fatigue his head
prodigiously, and draw it downwards, so that the animal is sometimes
obliged to make holes in the wall of his lodge to support them, and
ease himself of their weight. He has the disadvantage of having the
organ of smelling far distant from that of tasting; and likewise the
inconvenience of not being able to seize any thing on the ground with
his mouth, because his neck is too short to let his head reach the
earth; he is forced, therefore, to take his food, and even his drink
with his nose; and to carry it not only to the entrance of his mouth,
but to his very throat; and when his trunk is full of water, he thrusts
the extremity of it to the very root of the tongue, probably to push
back the epiglottis, and to prevent the liquor which passes through
with impetuosity, from entering into the larynx; for he thrusts out the
water by the strength of the same air which he had employed to suck it
up, and it goes out of the trunk with noise, and enters into the throat
with precipitation. Neither the tongue, the mouth, nor the lips, are of
any service to him, as to other animals, in sucking or lapping their
drink. From this description seems to result the singular consequence,
that the young elephant must suck with his nose, and afterwards carry
the milk to his throat. Yet the ancients have written that he sucks
with the mouth, and not with the trunk; but they were not, probably,
witnesses of the fact, and have founded their opinion on the analogy
with all other animals. If the young elephant had once been used to
suck with his mouth, how could he lose that habit the remainder of
his life? Why does he never use the mouth to take water within his
reach? Why does he constantly employ two actions, where one would be
sufficient? Why does he never take any thing with his mouth, but what
is thrown in when it is open? It appears probable, therefore, that the
young elephant sucks with his trunk only. This presumption is not only
proved by the subsequent facts, but is also founded on a better analogy
than that which decided the opinion of the ancients. We have said, that
animals in general, at the instant they are brought forth, can have
no indication of the food they want, from any other sense but that of
smelling: the ear is certainly of no use in that respect; neither is
the eye, since the eyes of most animals are not open when they begin
to suck: feeling can give but a vague idea of all the parts of the
mother's body, or rather indicates nothing relative to the appetite.
Smelling alone directs him: it is not only a sort of taste, but a
species of fore-taste, which precedes, accompanies, and determines the
other. The elephant, like other animals, perceives by this fore-taste
the presence of his food; and as the seat of smelling is united with
the power of suction at the extremity of his trunk, he applies it to
the teats, sucks the milk, and conveys it afterwards to his mouth to
satisfy his appetite. Besides, the two paps being seated on the breast,
like those of women, and the teats being very small in proportion to
the size of the mouth of the young elephant, who cannot bend his neck,
he could not reach the teat of his mother with his mouth, unless she
laid upon her back, or on her side, and even in that situation he would
find it very difficult to suck her, on account of the largeness of the
mouth, and the smallness of the nipples. The margin of the trunk, which
the elephant contracts as much as he pleases, is easily proportioned
to the nipple, and the young elephant may suck his mother with it,
either when she stands, or lies on her side. Thus, every thing agrees
to confute the opinion of the ancients on this subject, for none of
them, nor even any of the moderns, pretend to have seen the elephant
sucking, and I think, I may affirm, that whenever that observation is
made, it will appear, that he does not suck with his mouth, but with
his trunk. I likewise believe, that the ancients have been mistaken in
telling us, that elephants couple like other quadrupeds, the position
of the parts seeming to make it almost impossible. The female has not,
like other quadrupeds, the orifice of the vagina near the anus, being
near three feet distance from it, and seated almost in the middle of
the belly. Besides, naturalists and travellers agree that the male
elephant has not the genital member longer than a horse, and therefore
it is impossible for them to copulate like other quadrupeds, and that
the female must necessarily lie on her back, and which De Feynes and
Tavernier positively affirm must be the fact, though I should not pay
much attention to their testimony were it not in conformity with the
physical conformation; they require, therefore, for this operation,
more time and conveniences, than other animals; and it is, perhaps, for
this reason they never couple, but when at full liberty. The female
must not only consent, but even place herself in an indecent situation,
to provoke the male, which probably, she never assumes but when she
thinks herself without witnesses. Is not modesty then a physical
virtue of which animals are susceptible? It is at least like softness,
moderation, temperance, a general attribute of the female sex.
Thus the elephant neither sucks, eats, or drinks, like other
quadrupeds. The sound of his voice is also very singular. If we believe
the ancients, he has, as it were, two voices: the one issuing from the
trunk, which is rough, and from the length of the passage is somewhat
like that of a trumpet; and the other coming from his mouth, which is
interrupted by short pauses and hard sighs. This fact, advanced by
Aristotle and afterwards repeated by naturalists and some travellers,
is at least doubtful. M. de Bussy affirms positively, that the elephant
does not utter any sounds through the trunk; yet as in shutting the
mouth close, man can make a sound through the nose, it is possible
that the elephant, with so long a nose may issue sounds in the same
manner. From wherever it proceeds, the cry of the elephant is heard at
more than a league's distance; and yet, it is not so terrifying as the
roaring of the lion or the tiger.
The elephant is yet more singular in the conformation of his feet,
and the texture of his skin. He is not clothed with hair like other
quadrupeds, but his skin is perfectly bare; some bristles issue out in
different parts, they are thinly scattered on the body, but more thick
on the eye-lids, on the back part of the head, within the ears, the
thighs, and the legs. The epidermis has two sorts of wrinkles, which
are hard and callous, some sinking, others prominent, which gives a
divided appearance, like the bark of an old oak. In man, and in other
animals, the epidermis sticks every where close to the skin, but in
the elephant, it is only fastened by some points, like two quilted
stuffs one above the other. This epidermis is naturally dry, and soon
acquires three or four lines of thickness, by the divers crusts, which
are regenerated one above the other, drying up. It is this thickness of
the epidermis which produces the _elephantiasis_, or dry leprosy, to
which man, whose skin is bare like that of the elephant, is sometimes
subject. This distemper is very common to elephants, and to prevent it
the Indians rub them often with oil, to preserve the skin clean and
supple. It is very tender wherever it is not callous; in the fissures,
and other places, where it is neither dry nor hard, the elephant is
so sensible of the sting of the flies, that he not only employs his
natural motions, but even the resources of his intelligence to get
rid of them. He makes use of his tail, ears, and trunk, to strike
them; he contracts his skin and squeezes them to death betwixt his
wrinkles; he takes branches of trees, boughs, and handfuls of straw,
to drive them away, and when all this does not answer the purpose, he
gathers dust with his trunk, and covers with it all the tender parts
of his body. He often covers himself with dust several times in a day,
particularly after bathing. The use of water is almost as necessary
to these animals as air. When at liberty they seldom leave the banks
of rivers, but often go into them, and remain for hours together up
to the belly. In India, where they are treated most suitable to their
nature and constitution, they wash them with care, and give them all
the necessary time and opportunity to wash themselves. They clean their
skins by rubbing it with pumice-stones, and afterwards they pour on
them perfumed oil, and paint them with various colours.
The conformation of the elephant's feet and legs is also different
from that of other animals; the fore legs seem to be higher than those
behind, yet the hind legs are the longest; they are not bent in two
places, like the hind legs of a horse, or an ox, the thigh-bones of
which seem to be of the same piece with the buttock, the knee very near
the belly, and the bones of the foot so high and so long that they seem
to make a great part of the leg; in the elephant, on the contrary, the
foot is very short, and rests on the ground; he has the knee like man,
in the middle of the leg; his short foot is divided into five toes,
which are all covered with a skin, so as not to appear outwardly; we
are only able to perceive a kind of nails, the number of which varies,
though that of the toes is constant, for he has always five toes to
each foot, and commonly five nails, but sometimes he has no more than
four, or even three, and in this case they do not correspond exactly
with the extremities of the toes. However, this variety, which has
only been observed in young elephants transported to Europe, seems
to be merely accidental, and depends, probably on the treatment the
elephant has received in his youth. The sole of the feet is covered
with a skin, as hard as the hoof, which projects all round; the nails
are formed of the same substance.
The ears of the elephant are very long; he makes use of them as a fan,
and moves them as he pleases: his tail is not longer than his ears,
being commonly near three feet in length; it is rather thin, sharp,
and garnished at the extremity with a tuft of large black, shining,
and solid bristles; these bristles are as big and as strong as wire,
and a man cannot break them by pulling with his hands, though they
are elastic and pliant. This tuft of hair is an ornament which the
negro women are particularly partial to, from superstitious notions.
An elephant's tail is sometimes sold for two or three slaves, and
the negroes often hazard their lives to cut and snatch it from the
living animal. Besides this tuft at the extremity, the tail is covered
throughout with hard bristles, bigger than those of a wild boar; some
are also found on the convex part of the trunk, and on the eye-brows,
where they sometimes are a foot in length. The hairs on the eye-lids
are peculiar to men, monkeys, and elephants.
The climate, food, and condition, have great influence on the growth
and size of the elephant. In general those who are taken young, and
early lose their liberty, never come to their full growth. The biggest
elephants of India, and the eastern coasts of Africa, are fourteen
feet high; the smallest, which are found in Senegal, and in the other
western parts of Africa, are not above ten or eleven feet; and those
which are brought young into Europe acquire not that height. That which
was in the menagerie of Versailles, which came from Congo, was but
seven feet and a half high, in his seventeenth year. During thirteen
years that he lived in France he did not grow above a foot, so that
at the age of four, when he was sent he was only six feet and a half
high, and as the growth gradually diminishes as animals advance in
years, if he had lived thirty years, which is the ordinary term of
their full growth, he would not have been more than eight feet high.
Thus a domestic state reduces the growth of the animal at least one
third, not only in height but in all other dimensions. The length of
the body, measured from the eye to the tail, is very near equal to
his height; an elephant of the Indies, therefore, of fourteen feet
high, is seven times bigger and heavier than was the elephant of
Versailles. In comparing the growth of this animal with that of man
we shall find, that an infant, being commonly thirty-one inches, that
is half his height when he is two years old, and coming to his full
growth at twenty, the elephant, who increases in height and bulk to his
thirtieth year, should come to half his height in three years. In the
same manner, if we judge of the enormity of the bulk of the elephant,
it will be found, that the volume of a man's body being supposed to be
two cubic feet and a half, the body of an elephant of fourteen feet in
length, allowing him only three feet in thickness, and of a middling
breadth, would be fifty times as big, and, consequently, an elephant
ought to weigh as much as fifty men.
"I have seen (says father Vincent Marie) some elephants who were
fourteen or fifteen feet high, long and thick in proportion. The male
is always larger than the female. The price of these animals increases
in proportion to their size, which is measured from the eye to the
extremity of the back, and after exceeding certain dimensions, the
price increases like that of precious stones."
"The elephants of Guinea (says Bosman) are ten, twelve, or thirteen
feet in height, and yet they are incomparably smaller than those of the
East Indies, since those who have written the history of that country,
give to those more cubits in height, than the others have feet."
"I have seen elephants thirteen feet high, (says Edward Terry) and I
have met with many, who affirmed they have seen elephants fifteen feet
high[AG]."
[Footnote AG: These authors probably referred to different measures,
the first meaning Roman, the second Rhenish, and the last English feet.]
From these, and many other attestations, we may conclude, that the most
common size of the elephant is from ten to eleven feet; that those of
thirteen or fourteen feet are very scarce, and that the smallest are
at least nine feet high when they come to their full growth in a state
of liberty. These enormous lumps of matter, as we have observed, move
with much celerity; they are supported by four members, which are more
like pillars, or massive columns, than legs, and are from fifteen to
eighteen inches in diameter, and five or six feet in height; their
legs are therefore twice as long as those of a man; thus, though the
elephant took but one step to a man's two, he would overtake him in
running. The common pace of the elephant is not swifter than that of
the horse; but when he is pressed, he goes a sort of amble, equivalent
for quickness to a gallop. He executes with speed, and even with ease,
all direct motion; but he has no facility for oblique or retrograde
motions. It is commonly in narrow and deep roads, where he can hardly
turn, that the negroes attack him, and cut off his tail, which they
value as much as the whole animal. He cannot go down a steep declivity
without much difficulty, he is then obliged to bend the hind legs,
in order to keep the fore part of his body on a level with the hind,
and that his own weight may not throw him down. He swims well, though
the form of his legs and feet seem to indicate the contrary; but as
the capacity of his breast and belly is very large, as the volume of
the lungs and intestines is enormous, and as those parts are full of
air, or matter lighter than water, he sinks less deep than any other
animal; he finds less resistance to overcome, and, consequently, can
swim faster in making less efforts with his limbs. Thus, he is very
useful for crossing rivers; besides two field-pieces, each of them
four-pounders, with which he is loaded on these occasions, he carries
heavy baggage, and several persons holding him by the ears and tail.
When thus loaded, he swims deep in the water, and nothing is seen but
his trunk, which he keeps erect to enable him to breathe.
Though the elephant commonly feeds on herbs and young branches, and
requires prodigious quantities of these aliments, to extract from them
the nutrition necessary to such a body, yet he has not many stomachs,
like most animals who feed on the same substances. He has but one
stomach, does not ruminate, and is formed more like the horse than
the ox, or other ruminating animals. The want of a paunch is supplied
by the bigness and length of his intestines, and especially of the
colon, which is two or three feet in diameter, and fifteen or twenty
in length. The stomach is much smaller than the colon, being but four
feet, at the most, in length, and a foot and a half in diameter. To
fill such a capaciousness, the animal must eat almost continually,
especially when he has no food more substantial than herbage; therefore
the wild elephants are almost always employed in grubbing up trees,
gathering herbs, or breaking young boughs; and those that are tame,
though fed with great quantities of rice, pluck up herbs whenever
they find an opportunity. However great the appetite of the elephant,
he eats with moderation, and his taste for cleanliness gets the better
of his wants. His dexterity in parting, with his trunk, the good
leaves from the bad, and the care he takes to shake off the sand or
insects, are convincing marks of his delicacy. He is very fond of
wine, spirituous liquors, brandy, and arrack. He is prevailed upon to
exert his greatest efforts, and to undertake the most arduous task, by
shewing him a vessel full of these liquors, and promising it to him as
the reward of his labours. He seems also to like the smoke of tobacco,
but it stupifies and intoxicates him: he has a natural aversion to bad
smells, and such an antipathy for hogs, that the cry of that animal
disorders and puts him to flight.
To give a complete idea of the nature and intelligence of this singular
animal, I shall insert here some particulars communicated to me by the
Marquis de Montmirail, President of the Royal Academy of Sciences,
who has taken the trouble to translate from some Italian and German
books, which were not known to me, whatever relates to the history of
the animal creation. His taste for arts and sciences, his zeal for
the advancement of them, his exquisite judgment, and a very extensive
knowledge of all the parts of Natural History, entitle him to the
greatest respect, and it is with pleasure and gratitude I refer to the
information he has given me, and which I shall have frequent occasion
to refer to in the subsequent part of this work:--"They make use of
the elephant to carry artillery over mountains; and it is then that he
gives the greatest proofs of his intelligence: when the oxen, yoked
together, endeavour to draw a piece of artillery up a mountain, the
elephant pushes the breech of the cannon with his forehead, and at
every effort he supports the carriage with his knee, which he places
against the wheel. He seems as if he understood what is said to him.
When his leader employs him in some hard labour, he explains what is
his work, and the reasons which ought to engage him to obey. If the
elephant shews any repugnance to comply, the _cornack_, so his leader
is called, promises to give him arrack, or some other thing that he
likes; then the animal agrees to every thing proposed; but it is
dangerous to break a promise with him, as many cornacks have fallen
victims by such conduct. An instance of this happened at Dekan, which
deserves to be recorded; and which, however incredible it may appear,
is perfectly true. An elephant, in revenge, killed his cornack; the
man's wife being witness of this dreadful catastrophe, took her two
children and threw them to the feet of the still enraged animal,
saying, _Since thou hast killed my husband, take also my life and that
of my children_. The elephant stopped short, grew calm, and, as if
moved with regret and compassion, took with his trunk the biggest of
the two children, placed him on his neck, adopted him for his cornack,
and would never suffer any other to mount him afterwards.
"If the elephant be vindictive he is no less grateful. A soldier at
Pondicherry, who commonly gave one of these animals a certain measure
of arrack every time he received his pay, having one day drank more
than common, and seeing himself pursued by the guard, who wanted to
conduct him to prison, took refuge under the elephant, and there fell
asleep. In vain did the guard attempt to draw him out from this asylum,
the elephant firmly defending him with his trunk. The next day, when
the soldier became sober, he was struck with terror to find himself
under an animal of such enormous bulk. The elephant, who no doubt
perceived his consternation, caressed him with his trunk, and made him
understand that he might depart freely.
"The elephant sometimes falls into a sort of phrenzy, which deprives
him of his tractability, and makes him so formidable that it is
frequently thought necessary to kill him, though they generally tie
him with heavy chains, in hopes that he will come to himself; but when
in his natural state the most acute pains cannot provoke him to do any
harm to those who have not offended him. An elephant, made furious by
the wounds he had received in the battle of Hambour, ran about the
field crying out in the most hideous manner. A soldier, notwithstanding
the warning of his companions, was unable to fly, perhaps from being
wounded; the elephant coming up to him appeared afraid of trampling
him under his feet, took him up with his trunk, placed him gently on
one side, and continued his march." These particulars were given to
the Marquis Montmirail by M. de Bussy, who lived ten years in India,
and served the state with reputation. He had several elephants in his
service; he mounted them often, saw them every day, and had frequent
opportunities of observing many others.
The gentlemen of the Academy of Sciences have also communicated to us
the following facts, which they learned from those who governed the
elephant at Versailles, and which deserve to be mentioned here. "The
elephant seemed to discern when any body made a fool of him, and he
remembered the affront to be revenged the first opportunity. A man
deceived him by feigning to throw something into his mouth, upon which
the animal gave him such a blow with his trunk as broke two of his
ribs; having knocked him down, he trampled him under his feet, and
broke one of his legs, and then kneeling down, he tried to thrust his
tusks into the man's belly, which, however, went into the ground on
both sides of his thigh, without hurting him. He bruised another man,
by squeezing him against the wall, for a little mockery. A painter was
desirous to draw him in an unusual attitude, with his trunk erect and
his mouth open; the servant of the painter, to make him remain in that
attitude, threw fruits into his mouth, but often deceived him, which
provoked his indignation, and, as if he knew the painter was the cause
of his being thus insulted, without taking any notice of the servant,
he threw such a quantity of water with his trunk upon the paper, the
master was drawing on, as totally to spoil the design. The elephant
made less use of his strength than of his address, which was such that
he untied with great facility a double leather string which fastened
his leg, and as this buckle had a small string twisted around it with
several knots, he untied them all without breaking either the strings
or the strap. One night, having thus disentangled himself from his
leather strings, he dexterously broke open the door of his lodge, so
that his keeper was not awakened by the noise; he went from thence
into several courts of the menagerie, breaking open the doors that
were shut, and pulling down the stone work when the passage was too
narrow for him to pass; by this means he got into the lodges of other
animals, terrifying them to that degree, that they hid themselves
in the remotest parts of the inclosures." In fine, to omit nothing
that may contribute to make all the natural and acquired faculties of
this animal so superior to all others, perfectly known, we shall add
some facts, extracted from the most credible authors. "The elephant,
even when wild (says Father Vincent Marie), has his virtues. He is
generous and temperate; and when tamed he is esteemed for gentleness
and fidelity to his master, and friendship for his governors. If
destined to the immediate services of princes he knows his fortune,
and preserves a gravity agreeable to the dignity of his employ. If, on
the contrary, he is employed in mean labours, he evidently grieves and
laments his being thus debased. In war he is impetuous and proud at
the first onset; he is equally so when surrounded by hunters, but he
loses courage when he is conquered. He fights with his tusks, and fears
nothing so much as losing his trunk, which, by its consistence, is
easily cut off. He is naturally mild, never attacks any person, unless
he has been offended; he seems to delight in company, is particularly
fond of children, caresses them, and seems to be sensible that they are
harmless and innocent."
"The elephant, (says F. Pyrard) is an animal of so much judgment and
knowledge, that one should think him endowed with rational faculties;
besides being of infinite service to man. If wanted to be ridden,
he is so supple, and obedient, that he conforms to the conveniency
and quality of the person he serves: he bends his knees, and helps
his leader to mount him with his trunk. He is so tractable, that he
does whatever he is required, provided he is treated with gentleness.
He performs all that he is commanded, and caresses those whom he is
directed to use with civility."
"By giving the elephants, (says the Dutch travellers) whatever can
please them, they are as easily tamed and rendered as submissive as
men. It may be said they want no other faculty, but that of speech.
They are proud and ambitious, but they remember good offices, and are
so grateful for them, that they never fail to incline their head as a
mark of respect, when they pass before a house where they have been
well used. They may be conducted at the command of a child, but they
love to be praised and cherished. No person can affront, or injure them
without their notice; and those who have treated them with disrespect,
may think themselves happy if they escape without being sprinkled with
the water from their trunks, or thrown into the dirt."
"The elephants, (says Father Philip) come very near the human species
in judgment and reasoning. Monkeys are stupid brute animals compared
to them. The elephants are so modest, that they cannot bear being
seen when they couple; and if by chance, any person were to see this
operation they would infallibly be revenged of them. They salute by
bending the knees, and inclining their head; and when their master
shews his intention to mount them, they so dexterously present to him
their foot, that he may use it as a step. When a wild elephant is
taken, and his feet are tied, one of the hunters comes near, salutes,
makes an apology for having tied him, and protests that his intention
is not to do him any harm; tells him that in his savage state he often
wanted food, but now he will be treated with tenderness, and which
he promises to do constantly. The hunter has no sooner finished this
soothing discourse, than the elephant follows him as gently as a lamb.
We must not, however, conclude from this, that the elephant understands
languages, but only having a particular discerning faculty, he knows
the motions of esteem from contempt, friendship from hatred, and all
other sentiments of man towards him, for which cause he is more easily
tamed by reasoning than by blows. He throws stones to a great distance,
and very straight with his trunk; which he also makes use of to pour
water over his body when bathing."
"Of five elephants, (says Tavernier) which the hunters had taken, three
escaped, although their bodies and legs were fastened with chains and
ropes. These men told us the following surprising circumstance, if it
can be believed, that when an elephant has been caught, and escaped the
snare, he becomes very mistrustful and breaks off a large branch with
his trunk, with which he sounds the ground before he puts his foot upon
it, to discover if there are any holes, by which he may be caught a
second time; for this reason the hunters, who related this singularity,
despaired of catching again the three elephants who had escaped. The
other two which they had caught, was each of them placed betwixt two
tame elephants, and around them were six men, holding torches, who
spoke to the animals, and presented them something to eat, saying, in
their language, 'take this and eat it.' What they gave them consisted
of small bundles of hay, bits of black sugar, and rice boiled in water,
with pepper. When the wild elephant refused to do what he was ordered,
the men commanded the tame elephants to beat him, which they did
immediately; one striking his forehead, and when he seemed to aim at a
revenge, the other struck him on the side, so that the poor creature
soon perceived he had nothing to do, but to obey."
"I have several times observed, (says Edward Terry) that the elephant
does many things which seemed to be more the result of a rational than
an instinctive faculty. He does whatever his master commands him. If
he wishes him to frighten any body, he advances towards him with the
same fury as if he would tear him to pieces, and when near he stops
short, without doing him any harm. If the master is inclined to affront
another, he speaks to the elephant, who takes up dirty water with his
trunk, and throws it over the person pointed out to him. His trunk is
made of a cartilage, hangs betwixt his tusks, and by some called his
hand, because on many occasions it is as serviceable to him as the hand
is to men. The Mogul keeps elephants for the execution of criminals
condemned to death. If their leader bids them dispatch the wretched
creatures quickly, they tear them to pieces in a moment with their
feet; but if commanded to make the criminals languish, they break their
bones one after another, and make them suffer torments as cruel as
those of the wheel."
We might quote several other facts equally curious and interesting,
but we should exceed the limits of this work; we should not have
even entered into so many particulars, if the elephant (_fig. 133._)
were not, of all animals, the first in every respect, and that which
consequently deserves most attention.
We have said nothing respecting the production of his ivory because M.
Daubenton has made several useful observations upon the nature and
quality of it, but he has at the same time assigned to the elephant
the tusks, and prodigious bones attributed to the mammoth. I confess
I was long doubtful on this subject; I had several times considered
those enormous bones, and compared them with the skeleton of an almost
adult elephant preserved in the king's cabinet, and before writing the
history of those animals, I could not persuade myself that elephants
six or seven times bigger than the one whose skeleton I had seen,
could exist; more especially, as the large bones had not the same
proportions with the corresponding ones of the elephant, I thought with
the generality of naturalists that these enormous bones had belonged
to an animal much larger, whose species was lost or annihilated. But
it is certain, as we have mentioned before, that some elephants exist
who are fourteen feet high, that is, six or seven times bigger (for
the bulk is in proportion to the cube in height) than the elephant,
of whose skeleton we have spoken, and which was not more than seven
feet and a half in height. It is also certain, for the observations of
M. Daubenton, that age changes the proportion of the bones and when
the animal is adult, they grow considerably thicker, though they are
come to their full height: in fine, it is certain, from the relations
of travellers, that of some elephants, the tusks weigh more than
120lbs.[AH] From these observations, we cannot doubt that those tusks
and bones we have already noticed for their prodigious size, actually
belonged to the elephant. Sir Hans Sloane was of that opinion, but
he did not prove it. M. Gmelin said it still more affirmatively, and
gave on this subject several curious facts[AI]; but M. Daubenton is
the first who has proved them unquestionably by exact measures and
comparisons, and reasons founded on the great knowledge that he has
acquired in the Science of Anatomy.
[Footnote AH: Mr. Eden says, that several elephant's tusks which he
measured, were no less than nine feet long, and as big as a man's thigh
in circumference, some of them weighing more than nine pounds; and that
he saw a head in the possession of a Mr. Jude, which had been brought
from Guinea by some English ships, of which the mere bones, without the
tusks, weighed upwards of 200lbs. and it was supposed that when the
head was entire it could not weigh less than 500lbs. Lopes affirms he
met with several tusks that weighed 200lbs. _Hist. Gen. des Voyages._
This magnitude of the tusks is also confirmed by Drake, Holbe, and the
Dutch travellers.]
[Footnote AI: The Czar, Peter, being curious in Natural History, issued
orders in the year 1722, that wherever any bones of the mammoth should
be found, search should be made after the remainder, and the whole of
them sent to Petersburg, and which orders were made public in all the
towns of Siberia. In consequence of this several persons applied to the
Woywode of Jakutzk to be sent off to two different places, where they
affirmed they had seen these bones; their demands were complied with,
and many of them returned with heads and various bones, which were
transmitted to Petersburg, and placed in the imperial cabinet; but it
will be found upon examination that all the bones placed there, under
the denomination of the Mammoth bones, are perfectly similar with the
elephant's. And as to their being found under the earth and in Siberia,
it may fairly be presumed that in the great revolutions which have
happened to the earth, a great number of elephants might be driven from
their native climates; many have been destroyed by the inundations, and
those who wandered so far into the North must necessarily have perished
from the rigours of the climate. _Voyage a Kamtschatka par M. Gmelin._]