THE LONG INGLORIOUS HISTORY OF ELEPHANT EXPLOITATION IN MASSACHUSETTS

Nearly 230 years ago, on April 13, 1796, the first living elephant to arrive in the United
States disembarked from the merchant ship, America, onto a wharf in New York City. The two-year-old female Indian elephant had been purchased in Calcutta, India, the previous November for $450 by a wealthy merchant involved in the India trade from Salem, Massachusetts, Captain Jacob Crowninshield of the firm George Crowninshield and Sons. So began the long and inglorious history of commercial elephant exploitation in Massachusetts.

Also aboard the America was Nathaniel Hathorne, an officer and keeper of the ship's Log and father of Nathaniel Hawthorne, author and Salem native son (who later added the "w" to the family name). Nathaniel Sr. chronicled the voyage, describing the journey of the ship from India with its rare and precious cargo and detailing the stops where stores were taken on for the crew and for the elephant along the route to New York. The young elephant required a great deal of drinking water during the long voyage, and the captain soon realized that, without frequent stops to replenish the ship's water supply, she was at risk of expiring before they reached their destination. So, he came up with what seemed at the time to be the ideal solution: giving her large quantities of beer, a supply of which was plentiful. By the time Crowninshield's ship docked in New York City, the elephant had learned how to open a bottle of beer with her trunk and was able to down the contents in a matter of seconds, a trick she later performed for crowds up and down the East Coast. A Boston promotional handbill from August of 1797 declared that the elephant, "drinks all kinds of spirituous liquors, somedays 30 bottles of porter, drawing the corks with his [sic] trunk." Contemporary accounts noted that the poor elephant was drunk as she left the ship, weaving unsteadily on her feet as she trod down the gangplank, a sight that seems to have elicited little public sympathy or concern.

It is unclear what name, if any, the elephant was given. Some reports say she was called "Old Bet," but that name was also attached to another elephant who had the misfortune to be captured in the wild a few years later and who was purchased by another merchant-adventurer. Crowninshield's elephant was sold quickly upon her arrival to a Welshman named Owen for $10,000. This was an astonishing sum at the time, demonstrating to future hucksters the enormous lucrative commercial potential of such exotic and mysterious animals — considered soulless creatures to those so unfamiliar with them, thereby justifying the abuse and terrible cruelty they suffered under their human keepers. The young elephant is believed to have been sold later to Hachaliah Bailey of Barnum and Bailey, who paraded her around Massachusetts where she was displayed as a "curiosity" to crowds for 25 cents (9 pence for children) in Boston, Salem, Marblehead, and Beverly, in addition to public gathering places in New York City, Philadelphia and Maryland.

Thus, the elephant entertainment industry's origins clearly can be placed at the Commonwealth's door, and the deprivation, abuse, and exploitation which are its hallmarks began with the purchase of that first baby Indian elephant. More elephants and other exotic animals soon arrived. In addition to the arrival of the Crowninshield elephant, various Salem sources noted that between 1797 and 1820 a steady stream of captive wild animals appeared for exhibition in town, including a "bison from Arabia," a royal tiger, a lion, llama, monkey, ocelot, two camels, and others. The sense of disconnect demonstrated by a lack of empathy for the drunken elephant in 1796 allowed for rapid growth which cemented performing animal acts as a popular and highly profitable entertainment staple. The menagerie of "curiosities" that were paraded around Massachusetts and their nearly instantaneous notoriety laid the foundation for the devastating mistreatment of captive performing wild animals that followed. Later generations of circus goers continued to underwrite the abuse of animals in the entertainment industry for centuries to come, including here in Massachusetts.

In a letter to his brothers written in India in 1776, Jacob Crowninshield states, "we take
home a fine young elephant, two years old, at $450...It is almost as large as a very large Ox, and I dare say we shall get it home safe, if so it will bring at least $5,000...This is my plan...so if it succeeds I ought to have the whole credit and honor too. Of course, you know it will be a great thing to carry the first elephant to America."

Fast forward to September, 2019, when the captive Asian elephant, Beulah, collapsed and died while being exhibited at the Big E in West Springfield, Massachusetts. She was later found to have died from septicemia which developed from an untreated uterine infection, a condition her owners were well aware of. Despite her documented poor health, her owners continued to cart her from state fairs in New Jersey to Massachusetts, where, overcome by sepsis, she died.

Beulah, like all captive performing elephants worldwide and those who came before her, was forced to endure “The Crush” — the horrific “training” that involves beating, chaining, and other unspeakable methods employed to physically break baby elephants (literally crushing their spirit) to make them reliant on human handlers. It is a practice used on elephants destined for circuses and traveling shows (including petting zoos) and for those tragically fated to work in the elephant tourism trade in Southeast Asia.

After being broken physically and emotionally, young captive elephants are then subjected to relentless daily training, whether to perform in the circus arena or to be made sufficiently docile to allow for riders of any age or size, continually prodded and kept in line by their handlers’ primary training tool, the bull hook. This is because elephants are not naturally inclined to perform, give rides, or to become part of a human family, no matter how much their owners claim to the contrary. Coercion is fundamental in the “taming” of an elephant, and that coercion usually comes with unspeakable cruelty and deprivation, lasting a lifetime and leaving deep and lasting scars.

Beulah's is the tragic story of innumerable elephants who followed that first baby elephant's journey to America. The honor Crowninshield boasted about to his brothers
turned to infamy long before the death of Beulah, in those of the countless
throw-away elephants and other captive performing animals whose very
existence was made a living hell, beginning with their capture in the wild
and ending with their anonymous, pointless, and often heartbreaking deaths.

After over 20 years, animal advocates have succeeded in putting an end to this
shameful legacy in Massachusetts with the passage of An Act Relative to the Use of Elephants, Big Cats, Primates, Giraffes, and Bears in Traveling Exhibits and Shows. This achievement was hard-won in the Commonwealth and its passage is significant for animals in captivity throughout Massachusetts. But there is still more work to be done fighting for animal welfare in circuses, exhibits, and traveling shows across the nation.

The passage of the Circus Bill in Massachusetts will not bring back Beulah or her companion, Karen, who died in 2019 from kidney disease and who, like Beulah, spent her life being forced to perform and give rides at fairs around New England. Nor will it make up for the chronic mistreatment of hundreds of other performing captive wild animals who gave their lives entertaining crowds around the Commonwealth since 1796. But it emphatically renounces, and now prohibits, the abuse and deprivation that are the hallmarks of the animal entertainment industry. And, it also has the potential to be a catalyst for a wider movement across the United States. In the Commonwealth, wild animals now receive the rights and protection they have always deserved, but this work will not be finished until there is a federal ban on the use of wild and exotic animals in traveling shows. Every wild animal deserves to roam free.

Addressing the Elephant in the Room: Jumbo’s Intersectional Legacy as a Lens for Advocacy

Guest essay by Stephen Strout

Many hear the name Jumbo and think of the large African elephant that brought thrilling entertainment to zoo- and circus-goers. Jumbo’s true story however – one of pain, suffering, and isolation – is often overlooked. While appreciation for the suffering of animals in zoos and circuses is more widespread today, it is often trivialized and overlooks the intersectional connection between the systems that keep these animals in zoos and circuses and those that derogate marginalized people. Jumbo’s story, and its broader context, offer us a lens through which we can appreciate intersectional oppression and the advocacy needed to dismantle it.

Jumbo’s story began in the early 1860’s following the murder of his mother by poachers. The demand for living animals – rather than poached ivory and hide – for
circuses and zoos was growing, and given that baby Jumbo presented little value
dead, he was taken from his home (thought to have been east Sudan) and shipped to the Jardin des Plantes, a zoo in Paris, France. The journey was arduous; baby Jumbo was forced to walk great distances on foot and otherwise confined to cramped cages.
At the same time, the French army advanced their colonialization of African
people. Under the guise of emancipation, France emboldened slave economies, exploited indigenous peoples, and held “thousands of men, women, and children in captivity… requiring them to grow grain for the French army and administration.” To European colonists, indigenous animalsand peoples were mere commodities, a viewpoint that has ostensibly shifted, but nonetheless persists today.

Jumbo’s time at the Jardin des Plantes was horrific, and he “languished in the shadowof more popular creatures…unloved and poorly cared for.” After two years, he was traded to the London Zoo – their first African elephant – where he was received in a sickly, near-death state. It would take almost a year for the zoo to meaningfully improve his health, but only relatively. Fed sticky buns and sweets by the visitors who rode him and subdued with alcohol given to him by zoo staff, Jumbo’s life remained that of a prisoner.

Several months after Jumbo arrived at the London Zoo, British soldiers massacred hundreds of Jamaicans in what is referred to as the Morant Bay Rebellion. Although slavery had been abolished in the British West Indies since 1838, black Jamaicans were still forced to work for their former masters in miserable conditions for little pay. Tensions grew, eventually culminating in a rebellion against their British oppressors. From the British colonialist perspective, they had improved the welfare of formerly enslaved black Jamaicans, but nothing had truly change except the context of their exploitation.

As Jumbo grew older, so did his aggression. He would repeatedly smash his body and
tusks against the door and walls of his enclosure. While this behavior was originally thought to be the result of Jumbo entering musth – a period of aggression seen in male elephants from a rise in reproductive hormones – it is now thought that his behavior was driven by a poor diet of sweets and alcohol, pain from his teeth that were deformed and uncared for, lack of enrichment, and isolation. The reality of his emotional and mental pain was ignored, however, and Jumbo’s resulting aggression led to his sale to American showman P.T. Barnum.

Jumbo’s captivity at Barnum’s circus lasted just over three years and ended in his tragic death after being struck by a train. During that time, Jumbo was surrounded by other exploited animals and people, displayed as “human curiosities” and referred to as “wild creatures” and “freaks.” In particular, Barnum advertised black people and people with disabilities as “Man Monkey” or “the Missing Link,” using racist and ableist stereotypes to emphasize their cultural positioning as lessor beings. Unfortunately, such exploitative practices have not meaningfully improved for either animals or marginalized people.

As we engage in advocacy to free animals from zoos and circuses, Jumbo’s story compels us to acknowledge that systems of oppression and exploitation do not exist in silos. Ultimately, we should view Jumbo’s story and its broader context as a call to the reality that meaningful change for animals and people can only come from intersectional collaboration and connection.