I suspect that some of you, like me, could use a break from time to time. Focusing so much on politics and the important issues of the day can be tiring. So let's take a break and learn about one important issue that happened way back in 1820.
This is the story of Horatio the Elephant who fell through the bridge over the Connecticut River in the early morning hours of Sept 19, 1820. The story is somewhat personal to me as some of the people who rescued Horatio and tried in vain to save his life were my direct ancestors.
This tragedy describes issues that are still relevant today. I'm reminded of our crumbling infrastructure, product liability, the practice of medicine, engineering design errors, poor decisions and judgement, etc. But it also describes the extraordinary strength of character, sense of community, faith, and kindness of the early settlers of the United States.
When I say elephant, what name comes to mind? Most people say Dumbo. It is thought that Disney chose this name based on Jumbo, the famous elephant that Phineas Taylor Barnum purchased from the London Zoo which he exhibited throughout the US in the late 19th century. But P T Barnum was only 10 years old when Horatio the Elephant was here.
In 1820, the circus was a new idea in Europe and hadn't yet come of age in the US. In the late 18th century, the menagerie was all the rage throughout Europe. The expansion of the British Empire into Asia, Africa, and other exotic lands generated great interest in the creatures found there. The business of exhibiting these animals was lucrative.
The idea spread and the first elephant to be imported in the US arrived in New York on April 13, 1796 aboard the ship America. The female Asian elephant was about 2 years old and came to be known as Old Bet. Eventually, after a series of owners, she was purchased by Hackaliah Baily of Somers, NY. In 1824, Mr. Baily returned to Somers where he built the Elephant Hotel and erected a pedestal with a statue of Old Bet on the top. The hotel and the statue are still standing today. Yes, this Mr. Baily is a partner in what became the Barnum and Baily Circus years later.
The history gets murky beyond this date. There are stories of a second elephant imported a year or two later, advertised as a large bull elephant, but newspaper accounts reveal that viewers insisted that this elephant was a female.
Both Old Bet and the second unnamed elephant were tragically shot by unstable individuals, one who thought that using an animal to make money was immoral, and another who tested the owner's boast that the elephant's hide was thick enough to stop bullets.
Horatio is possibly the third elephant to be imported into the US. He was definitely a bull and likely an Asian elephant. There may have been other imports, but Horatio was definitely among the very first few to arrive.
As an aside, I believe that Horatio was named for Admiral Horatio Nelson, which seems sort of obvious. What isn't obvious is that, prior to commanding the well-known ship HMS Victory in the Battle of Britain, Admiral Nelson commanded the HMS Elephant during the Battle of Copenhagen in 1803. If there's any connection here, it's possible that Horatio the Elephant was probably born sometime after 1803. Just my conjecture, no proof.
Here's some excerpts from the story as published in the Keene, NH newspaper of Saturday, Sept 23, 1820.
SHOCKING CALAMITY
It falls on our lot to record a most disasterous event which forcibly reminds us how uncertain are our possessions, and that "in the midst of life we are in death"
In our last, mention was made of the recent purchase of the large ELEPHANT, HORATIO, then at Woodstock, by Messrs. Curtis and Campbell of Windsor, and Messrs. T. & J. Emerson of Norwich. The former owner, and importer of the animal, Capt. ABRAHAM ROBLIN, of the City of New York, in a few days after the sale, was called home by urgent private business, where he incidentally heard that the new keepers of the Elephant were unable to control him, with other particulars (not founded in fact) which induced him, purely from benevolent motives, instantly to return. He arrived at Putney, VT, on Tuesday last, where the Elephant was exhibiting, and intended to remain with him several days.
Now comes the tragedy:
On their way to Westmoreland [NH] and this town [Keene, NH], on Tuesday night, between 12 and 1 o'clock, they attempted to pass the bridge over [the] Connecticut River. Maj. Curtis, one of the owners, and a colored man were forward, and Capt. Roblin and another colored man, both on horses, were in the rear of the Elephant [sic]. They passed in safety until near the gate on this side [Westmoreland, NH], which, in consequence of some delay in opening it, the Elephant slipped between the last pier and the abutment. Maj. Curtis had succeeded in opening the gate, but the Elephant remaining still, Capt. Roblin and the colored man advanced and were in the act of spurring him forward with their whips, when one of the cross timbers on that side of the Bridge, (which proved to be defective) and into which the plank timbers running length-ways of the Bridge were let, suddenly gave way, and the Elephant, the two horses and their riders were precipitated together with the falling timbers and planks a distance of forty-six feet, on to the rocks! The two horses were instantly killed. Capt. Roblin had his thigh broken, his head very much bruised, and received such injury in the spine, and the whole system, that he lived but about four hours, retaining his senses to the last. The colored man had a leg broken only, which was amputated and is likely to do well.
The several bridges built at this location have a history of bad design and failure. The first bridge was subscribed in 1810, estimated to cost $6,000. It was completed in 1812 at a higher cost, $7,945.39. This bridge collapsed in the spring of 1813. The original piers were set at the low water mark of the river, an unbelievably stupid design decision. It was rebuilt in 1814, presumably with the piers set higher, but not quite high enough. I'm guessing that they re-used most of the timbers from the first bridge for the reconstruction. It would have taken longer to use newly milled timbers. Hence, some timbers had been in the water for up to a year. They had no effective method to prevent wood-rot in those days; just tar.
These and other similar problems eventually resulted in some of the material and construction standards and regulations we rely on today. Yes, regulation can make life safer and better for all of us.
What about Horatio? Not so good:
The Elephant, weighing between 3 and 4 tons, the reader would naturally suppose was instantly killed. Not so. He appears to have fallen on his back or breach, and is doubtless injured internally, but it is difficult to ascertain to what extent. Wednesday morning he was raised upon his feet by tackles, but was unable to bear his weight, and appears to have little use of his hind legs. In the afternoon, they got him upon an ox-sled, and with eight yoke of oxen, assisted by men with drag-ropes, drew him up on the steep bank and took him to a barn on the hill in the village of Westmoreland [NH] where this noble animal lies in much distress.
The article goes on the describe how Mr. Curtis and the "other colored man" summoned help and how the town gave as much support and assistance as they could to the families and friends of the victims. Some documents list the "colored men" as slaves, but this was not necessarily true. The titles of Captain and Major may not be actual titles as it was common for showmen of the day to use such titles in their advertisements and bills.
Abraham Robling shows up in the NY Census as a tavern owner. In those days, a tavern was more of a gathering place or a hotel used by travellers. Some provided entertainment of various kinds, including animal shows such as menageries. The Lexington Minute Men gathered at Buckman's Tavern, for example. Mr. Robling was married and had several children.
What about Horatio?
The citizens of Westmoreland, NH treated his injuries as best they knew how. I believe that they treated him quite well since everyone was intimately familiar with the details of caring for large animals in those days. They kept him hydrated and sheltered, even placing cold towels on his fevered body. One account says that they raised money for his care and feeding by charging a very small fee for those who wished to see Horatio. I personally doubt that they did this, but interest in Horatio's well-being was extraordinarily strong.
Horatio died of his injuries on Tuesday, Sept 26, 1820, one week later.
Horatio's tragic fall and his death was reported in various newspapers throughout the Northeast and as far away as Canton, Ohio. Horatio must have been quite well-known and had to be loved by many who saw this majestic animal.
This isn't the end of Horatio's story. They contacted a museum in Boston which agreed to an exhibition for Horatio. His body was skinned and prepared for mounting. His remains were buried somewhere in Westmoreland, NH. Horatio was mounted and displayed in the rotunda of a brand new museum in Boston by December of the same year. He was the highlight of the museum's grand opening.
The help they summoned was Dr. Twitchell of Keene, NH. Dr. Twitchell later became known as a pioneer in surgical techniques, specifically, carotid artery surgery.
My connection?
My 3rd ggrandfather, Abiel Walker and his son, Benjamin Walker, were both blacksmiths in Westmoreland, NH in 1820. Abial Walker is the son of Capt. Benjamin Walker of Chelmsford, MA who was killed by the British in the Battle of Bunker Hill.
The family lived on Park Hill, probably the very same hill in the village where they brought Horatio the day after his fall. Today, Park Hill is the site of the Park Hill Meeting House, moved there sometime after 1820, and one of the most beautiful remaining Meeting Houses in New Hampshire. I think of the Park Hill Meeting House as more of a tribute to Horatio, those who cared for him, and the amazing pioneers who settled here and built our great country.