CHAPTER VI.
JUMBO ([See Plate VII.]).
Many elephants have become famous in ancient and modern times,—some by their deeds in war (for their courage and daring), others for their domestic virtues and intelligence. But Jumbo, whose fame extended to all civilized nations, was noted for his great size, and for the hue and cry raised over his departure from their country by the English people; and it is safe to say that no animal ever rose to quite such a lofty pinnacle of popularity. Probably not a boy or girl who visited the huge animal when alive, but ever after took an interest in his career, and sincerely regretted his untimely end. Jumbo was a prince among elephants, a magnificent example of the possibilities of animal life, and a type of a race that is slowly but surely passing away. Jumbo’s early infancy was undoubtedly spent in the wilds of Central Africa. In 1861, when he was about four feet high, an elephantine toddler, Sir Samuel Baker saw him in the possession of some Hamran Arabs, who were taking him down the Settite River for delivery to a collector named Johann Schmidt. The latter sold him to the Jardin des Plantes; and Mr. W. B. Tegetmier says, “I saw him the day after his arrival in the Gardens, and went into his den with Mr. Bartlett. He was then about four feet high; and the keeper, holding a long-handled broom in the usual manner, was scrubbing his back, which was far below him.” This was in 1865: so that when he died, Jumbo was presumably about twenty-six years old, hardly in his prime; and I learn from Professor Ward, who mounted the skeleton, that he had not ceased growing. From 1865 to 1882 Jumbo lived in the Gardens of the London Zoölogical Society, pampered, fed, and petted by old and young; daily being marched upon the green with a load of children upon his back; and though, as Sir Samuel Baker says, he was not designed by nature as a perambulator, still the great animal was eminently successful as one.
PLATE VI.
THE DINOTHERIUM. (An extinct Elephant-like Creature.)
Whether founded on fact, it is difficult to say, but rumors became current, that Jumbo had given evidence of dangerous outbursts of temper; and the keepers were afraid, so the report went, that possibly some one would be hurt. At this opportune juncture, Mr. Barnum, through an agent, offered the Zoölogical Society the sum of ten thousand dollars for Jumbo, which was immediately accepted; and, before the astonished public were hardly aware of what had occurred, the papers were signed that placed Jumbo in American hands. When this fact became known, there rose a clamor and protest from all classes. The excitement grew daily, added to by the comments of the German, English, and French press, until the question of Jumbo was the all-absorbing topic of the day. “The New-York Herald” said, “It seems a sad thought that a war between England and America is imminent, and may break out at any moment, and that no intervention will be able to stay the angry passions of two nations which ought to live in undisturbed harmony. The cause of this possible outbreak is the thoughtless sale of Jumbo, the pet elephant. Mr. Barnum vows that he will exhibit the giant to fifty millions of free Americans at fifty cents apiece. It seems a pity to rupture the amicable relations that have so long existed between us and our neighbors, but we must have that elephant.”
Mr. Labouchere mentioned the matter in a humorous way in Parliament; and “The London Standard” pathetically remarked, “When a Southern slave-owner put in force his legal right of separating a family at the auction-block, the world rang with anathemas against the inhumanity of the deed. Surely, to tear this aged brute from a home to which he is attached, and from associates who have so markedly displayed their affection for him, is scarcely less cruel.” Mr. Lowell, our minister at the time, is said to have observed, that the only burning question between the countries was Jumbo.
Thousands now flocked to the Garden to see the now famous elephant, that evidently had a strong hold upon their affections; subscriptions were started, to buy him back at any price; and the directors of the Garden were the butt of a vast amount of abuse.
Finally the editor of “The London Daily Telegraph” sent the following cablegram to Mr. Barnum:—