The education of the elephant is quite an important matter; and in nearly all the large herds, like Barnum’s, there are what might be called elephant schools, where the elephants are not only taught, but kept in practice. Kindness is a feature of this education; but fear is the motive, after all, on the part of the elephant; and were it not for the dread which the hook of the trainer inspires, there would be little discipline maintained.
The trainer of the Barnum herd informed me that he had often seen elephants, especially young ones, practising their lessons out of school. On one occasion he looked through a crevice into the pen of the elephants who were fastened up for the night, and there was one trying to stand on its head. While he watched, it made the attempt several times, just as if he had been standing by, and finally succeeded. Some of my young readers may possibly think that this is a remarkable evidence of intelligence, but I am inclined to think that it was merely the result of the force of daily habit.
As long ago as the time of Pliny, elephants were observed studying their lessons, if so we may term it. This ancient author tells us that an elephant, having been punished for his inaptitude in executing some feat which he was required to learn, was observed at night endeavoring to practise what he had vainly attempted during the day; and Plutarch confirms this by mentioning an elephant who practised his theatrical attitudes, alone, by moonlight.
The elephants of to-day are trained to march like soldiers, to wheel and counter-march at command, to salute their superior by throwing up the trunk and whistling loudly, to build pyramids and climb upon eminences; and one small elephant has been taught to walk upon a rope,—a very broad and flat one. Elephants upon the see-saw, upon a rolling ball, elephants upon their hind-legs, and dancing elephants,—all are familiar to the circus-goer; and to show to what perfection the art of animal-training has attained, quite recently two small Indian elephants, which were erroneously advertised as mammoths in New York, from the fact that they had some hair upon their heads and bodies, were educated to do some comical tricks, one of which was to ride a tricycle, in which position they presented a most ludicrous appearance. ([See Plate XVI.])
Perhaps the most remarkable exhibition is that afforded by the little elephant, Tom Thumb, of the Barnum circus, the one who was in the accident which killed Jumbo. This elephant comes walking upon his hind-legs upon a mimic stage, with an alleged German, and both take seats at a table; the elephant being dressed in hat, coat, and trousers. The clown elephant now takes a bell in its trunk, and rings it; a waiter coming in and taking the order, which is evidently for some intoxicant. When he returns with a bottle and two glasses, the elephant seizes the former while his companion is not looking, and drinks the contents. This act is repeated a number of times, the elephant ringing the bell and ordering another bottle before the German discovers the fraud. Then the elephant appears to be overcome with the wine, and, taking a fan in its trunk, uses it vigorously. In all its movements the curious animal acts exactly as if it understood all that was going on, and fully appreciated the sport.
It is not often that an elephant is employed as a witness in court, but such an instance occurred in Cleveland some time ago. The famous trick elephant Pickaninny had been exhibited there; and, as some discussion had been raised as to its speed, a test was given, the trainer affirming that the elephant could travel three miles in thirty minutes. It accomplished a mile in eight minutes and the officers of the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals very properly interfered and arrested the driver charging him with having prodded the animal with an iron until the blood came.
The next day the parties appeared in court, and the trainer subpœned his elephant in his defence. As the animal could not squeeze up the stairs to the police court, the latter was held in the corridor below. When asked if he had been injured, Pickaninny moved his head negatively; and when the inquiry was made if he was treated well, he bobbed his head up and down, and grunted his assent in a very decided manner. It is unnecessary to say that his trainer was not far off during this performance; and as examination failed to show any wounds, the man was discharged, and the elephant complimented upon his success by being presented with loaves of bread, fruit, and other delicacies.
The elephant has figured in the circus of England for at least two hundred and fifty years; and in 1681 a fine specimen was accidentally destroyed by fire in Dublin. The exhibition price had been so high that comparatively few persons had seen it; and at the time of the fire, the poorer classes hunted for pieces of the flesh as relics, which shows what a novel spectacle an elephant must have been at this time.
Among the first trained elephants exhibited in Europe, was a fine Asiatic animal, employed at the Adelphi Theatre, London. It took part in an Eastern play, and evoked much applause by marching in a procession, kneeling before the king, and saluting the true prince without apparent orders.