“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.