a lonely hippo

Bayard Taylor (American, 1825-58) was a diplomat, traveler, and poet.  His adventures included backpacking through Europe for two years, writing a song for Jenny Lind, tracking part of the Nile, sailing along on Perry's voyage to Japan, and being appointed to the U.S. diplomatic service in Russia. Tired yet?  He did far more.  You can read about it here.
One small little adventuresome act is my post for today.  On a visit to Barnum's Museum, Taylor spotted a lonely-looking hippo.  Being a man of great sympathy with animals, he decided to reach out:

"In the first place, animals have much more capacity to understand human speech than is generally supposed. Some years ago, seeing the hippopotamus in Barnum's Museum looking very stolid and dejected, I spoke to him in English, but he did not even move his eyes. Then I went to the opposite corner of the cage and said in Arabic: 'I know you; come here to me.' He instantly turned his head toward me. I repeated the words, and thereupon he came to the corner where I was standing, pressed his huge, ungainly head against the bars of the cage, and looked in my face with a touching delight while I stroked his muzzle. I have two or three times found a lion who recognised the same language, and the expression of his eyes for an instant seemed positively human."

Note: Don't stroke a hippo's muzzle. I'm glad it worked out in this case, but normally that's a really good way to get your arm ripped off.  Just FYI.

- From Sanborn, Kate, 1839-1917. My Literary Zoo. New York: D. Appleton and company, 1896. pp. 10-1.

a history of exotic pets in england

thanks vintageprintable (PD)

Samuel Pepys, the English diarist, had a pet eagle.  It "fouled the house mightily," so he handed it off to someone else.  Anne Boleyn was given a monkey and didn't like it one bit.  George IV fed his adored giraffe milk, not knowing any better; the poor creature died, of course. These anecdotes and more are given in the course of scholar Caroline Grigson's new book, "Menagerie: The History of Exotic Animals in England" (Oxford Press).  What drove this need for strange and rare creatures to be captured and shipped to a country where hardly anyone could guess how they needed to live?  I've found a couple of excellent book reviews that you'll enjoy reading:
The Guardian's review here.
The London Review of Books review here.

pangolin bangle

british library on flickr. (PD)

The explanatory citation at the British Library's Flickr collection consists of this tantalizing snippet: "Image taken from page 465 of 'A Voyage in the “Sunbeam.” Our home on the ocean for eleven months ... With 188 illustrations ... chiefly after drawings by the Hon. A. Y. Bingham. [With a preface by Lord Brassey.]'"

So many questions.  Who were the Brasseys? What is a manis?  How did they get one?  How quickly can I post this awesomeness to the Museum?  

A manis is an old term for a pangolin, taken from the species name (for example, the Common Pangolin is Manis temminckii).  Here's how the Brasseys got one.  Anna, Baroness Brassey accompanied her husband Lord Brassey on a number of voyages in their yacht "Sunbeam."  On one of these they were guests of the Maharajah of Johore, who upon their departure presented them with many gifts. One of these was "...a live little beast, not an alligator, and not an armadillo or a lizard; in fact I do not know what it is; it clings round my arm just like a bracelet, and it was sent as a present by the ex-Sultan of Johore."  By the time Anna Brassey's book was illustrated, someone had figured out it was a pangolin.  Wonder how long the little guy lasted.

a fine neapolitan dog and his lady

Yale Center for British Art, Paul Mellon Fund (PD)

I haven't found when exactly the British painter George James (died 1795) got down to Italy to paint "A Whole Length of a Lady of Petrella, in the Kingdom of Naples," which he exhibited in 1765. He did move to France toward the end of his life, where he died in prison during the French revolution. His crime? Being English. Anyway, I found this a strange, striking image, overlain with an atmospheric pall against which details glow:  her skirt, her lips, the gold collar on her dog's neck.  She's not any ordinary person, not with those clothes and not with that delicate pet who looks at her so winsomely. We may never know more.

I think "Petrella" might be the same as the modern-day town of Petrella Tiferna, which you can see in this brief YouTube video.

a sizable pet

A Fraser Album Artist, 1815-1819 Elephant and driver, probably from the Mughal Emperor's stable with a hunting howdar. thanks wikimedia commons (PD)

From a book of anecdotes about pets of the famous:
. . . About the beginning of the seventeenth century, there might have been seen in India at the magnificent court of Jehangir, a favorite of unusual intelligence and size, whose story has come down to us in memoirs written by the Emperor himself. It reads like a page from the Arabian Nights.
“Among my brother's elephants," he says, “was one of which I could not but express the highest admiration, and to which I gave the name of Indraging (the elephant of India). It was of a size I never beheld before —such as to get upon his back required a ladder of fourteen steps. It was of a disposition so gentle and tractable that under the most furious incitements, if an infant then unwarily threw itself in its way, it would lay hold of it with its trunk, and place it out of danger with the utmost tenderness and care. The animal was at the same time of such unparalleled speed and activity that the fleetest horse was not able to keep up with it; and such was its courage that it would attack with perfect readiness a hundred of the fiercest of its kind.
“Such in other respects, although it may appear in some degree tedious to dwell upon the subject, were the qualities of this noble and intelligent quadruped, that I assigned a band of music to attend upon it; and it was always preceded by a company of forty spearsmen. It had for its beverage every morning a Hindostany maun (twenty-eight pounds) of liquor; and every morning and evening there were boiled for its meal four mauns of rice, and two mauns of beef or mutton, with one maun of oil or clarified butter. From among all the others this same elephant was selected for my morning rides, and for this purpose there was always upon its back a howdah of solid gold. Four mauns of gold were moreover  wrought into rings, chains, and other ornaments for its neck, breast and legs; and lastly, its body was painted all over every day with the dust of sandal-wood."
There is something quite captivating in the idea of all this oriental pomp enshrining the favorite of an emperor— in its careful tendance, its perfumes, jewels and musicians—the latter, in particular, being an attention as delicate as unusual.

From Lewis, E. (1892). Famous pets of famous people. Boston: D. Lothrop Company.. 76-77.

the chesma: a cat spirit

The Chesme, or Chesma iyesi, is a Turkish spirit that may take the form of a cat (or a fish, a woman, or a fairy - but it seems most well known as a cat).  In this guise it lures youths to their deaths.  Those spirits that belong to a well only are a variety called kuyu iyesi.

Did I find much more on this fascinating-sounding creature?  So far not.  I did find this jolly snippet from a children's book, Johnnykin and the Goblins (1877) in which the hero meets such a spirit:

"If I don't happen to be a girl when you speak to me," said Chesme', "you must wait, you know, till I come round to it. Come on!"
"What a beautiful large cat you are," said Johnnykin. "Is that the kind they call Persian?"
"Yes," said Chesme, very much pleased. "We are the finest cats in the world. I come from Persia. I was born in a fountain, and Chesme is the Persian word for one. All over that country and Turkey people show you fountains which are inhabited by Chesme' cats, which are only seen by moonlight, and then appear as beautiful girls, who smile all the time, and then vanish quickly into other forms, as you have seen me do. My mother's name was Empusa. She was a Greek. Ah! you ought to have seen her change!"

Since this book is Google-digitized, I'm not allowed to post images of Chesmé here, but she's delightful and you ought to see at least one of the images.  Try this link. Scroll back to pages 62 and 67.

Leland, C. Godfrey. (1877). Johnnykin and the goblins. London: Macmillan & co., 62-68.

dante gabriel rossetti's menagerie

Dante Rossetti, the Pre-Raphaelite artist, rarely did anything ordinary when something extraordinary could be had, not least in the bunch of exotic pets he amassed in the years after his wife's death. I'd heard about a number of them, but not about the zebu. . .

Dante Rossetti had a collection of pets which, in its whimsical variety, can only be likened to that of the naturalist Buckland. Armadillos and wombats were included, but decidedly the most notable was the zebu. One of the artist’s biographers gives an amusing account of the creature. It was an intractable subject for petting, and put an end to all attempts in that direction by one day tearing up by the roots the little tree to which it was tethered. and chasing its owner all round the garden. After this exploit, it was given away; Mr. Knight says that Rossetti. when discussing his pets, past and present, was not much given to talk of the zebu.

- from Lewis, Eleanor, Famous Pets of Famous People. Boston: D. Lothrop Company, 1892, pp. 164-7.

the great mesmer cat

image copyright and by kindest permission of the artist

You know how your purring cat has this seemingly magic ability to gaze deep into your eyes and put you to sleep?  That's because Kitty - like all members of the feline race - moonlights as The Great Mesmer, and thanks to Virginia Diakaki of Athens, Greece, now you've got artistic proof.
Virginia says in her artist statement, "Artistically my work is highly influenced by the Victorian era, Art Nouveau, circus art, old Japanese illustrations and the Lowbrow movement." I knew it the minute I saw this, and her elegantly quirky Etsy shop TheGreenerPastures makes it all the more sure a conclusion.  Virginia also studied stage and costume design in Florence, Italy, which also accounts for the picture perfection of this "circus banner." Not a part of the image is wasted, and there's just enough imagery, not too much.  I do hope you'll visit her shop and see all the other magical creatures she has up her sleeve - how about The Guardians of the Beating Heart, or the brave and beautiful Dolores?

a cat's most unusual buddy

In which a British writer relates another of those things you can just see happening in those exotic American States:

. . .But a most singular instance of attachment between two animals, whose natures and habits were most opposite, was related to me by a person on whose veracity I can place the greatest reliance. Before he took up his abode at Hampton Court, he had resided for nine years in the American States, where he superintended the execution of some extensive works for the American Government. One of these works consisted in the erection of a beacon in a swamp in one of the rivers, where he caught a young alligator. This animal he made so perfectly tame, that it followed him about the house like a dog, scrambling up the stairs after him, and showing much affection and docility. Its great favourite, however, was a cat, and the friendship was mutual. When the cat was reposing herself before the fire (this was at New York) the alligator would lay himself down, place his head upon the cat, and in this attitude go to sleep. If the cat was absent, the alligator was restless; but he always appeared happy when the cat was near him. 

I have to say that trumps any "weird animal friendship" story I have so far.  From Edward Jesse, Gleanings in natural history; with local recollections. To which are added Maxims and hints for an angler (London: John Murray, 1832), p. 163.

some wild pets

Mrs. Calvin Coolidge and her pet raccoon Rebecca, circa 1921-23
from http://hdl.loc.gov/loc.pnp/cph.3c00816

She bought the young rabbit on the sly at a bird shop, and smuggled him into the nursery in a paper bag; this bunny contraband would become Benjamin Bouncer, the first inspiration for Beatrix Potter's Peter Rabbit.  I'm shortly to send you to a Retronaut post with photos of wild pets, and Beatrix and Benjamin are the first pair you'll see.
Wild pets are something I can't quite get behind.  Rabbits are one thing, and I think Frida Kahlo did all right by her pet fawn Granizo ("Hail" - perhaps for his lovely spots), but Osa Johnson's cheetah frankly looks a touch disgusted to me, and I never did like the idea of Salvador Dali and his ocelot.  There's also a catalog page from a purveyor of exotic animals, and that just made me sad.  Though the photo of 50's burlesque dancer Zorita walking her snake did make me laugh.
Have a look!

(My thanks for this find to sharp-eyed Museum fan Loren K.)

the sachet kitten

image from excerpted publication and public domain

 . . . Skunks make unique and interesting pets and many lovers of animals find delight in their study. They are extremely healthy and hardy in all climates. The various pet stock associations. . .  have lately become interested in the skunk. Many of their members have started to breed the skunk. It is an animal which can be kept in very small quarters in cities or suburbs as it is naturally so cleanly in its habits. It is a wonderful animal to study as it is gentle and fond of human company and in some respects it can teach the human species very good lessons. The skunk has self respect and will resent any unseemly constraint of his rights as he understands them, at first by the mild protest of stamping his feet, and finally, as a last resort, by firing upon an agressor in self defense if he has not been disarmed.

   He has patience and will tolerate under protest considerable encroachment on his right before using violence. He is of an inquisitive turn of mind and wishes to understand all that goes on around about him. Any new appointments about the place are carefully investigated by him. . .One writer has naively remarked that the more he saw of people the better he liked skunks. He was in some respects a shrewd observer.
   Skunks will breed in very close confinement when made very tame as they always are when kept as pets for they then receive much attention. They can be handled in the arms just like kittens. They are good mousers. They are astoundingly beautiful.

-- from Frederick Montgomery Holbrook, Skunk Culture for Profit (Skunk Development Bureau, 1915) pp. 106-110 passim.

veterinary medicine, 1825 BC

What was it like to be a vet in ancient Egypt?  We actually do have a small glimpse of that life, thanks to a find the great Egyptologist Flinders Petrie made in 1889.  This was a collection of text fragments called the Kahun Papyri, and while they contain information on a number of subjects ranging from mathematics to a list of festivals, a section contains a handful of procedures for treating animals' diseased eyes.  You can imagine what a trick it is to translate from such an old language, but you might be interested in Petrie's literal translation of how to doctor a sick bull (numbers in parentheses are from Petrie's text for translation notes):
***
PRESCRIPTION II.
(34) TITLE: Treatment for the eyes (?) of a bull with wind (cold ?).
(35) If I see [a bull with] (36) wind, he is with his eyes running, (37) his forehead? uden (wrinkled?) the roots (gums?) (38) of his teeth red, his neck (39) swollen (or raised ?) : repeat the incantation for him. Let him be laid on his side (lit. his one side), (40) let him be sprinkled with cold water, (41) let his eyes and his hoofs (f) (42) and all his body he rubbed with gourds (i) (43) or melons, let him be (44) fumigated (? k;p ?) with gourds .......... .. (45) wait herdsman .......... .. (46) be soaked .......... .. (47) that it draws in soaking......... until (48) it dissolves into water: let him be rubbed with (49) gourds of cucumbers. Thou shalt gash (F) (50) him upon his nose and his tail, thou shalt say (51) as to it, “ he that has a out either dies (52) with it or lives (53) with it.” If he does not recover and he is wrinkled (l) (54) under thy fingers, and blinks (P) his eyes, thou shalt bandage (55) his eyes with linen lighted (56) with fire to stop the running.

***

So, rub him with cucumbers and gourds, and possibly bleed him from the nose and tail to let evil humors out. Interesting, and hopefully of some comfort somewhere to the bull. From William Matthew Flinders Petrie, and Francis Llewellyn Griffith, Hieratic Papyri from Kahun and Gurob: (principally of the Middle Kingdom), B. Quaritch, 1898, p. 13.

it's vintage photo time again: you weren't expecting this

copyright: me, now

Okay. This is not a pet per se. Nobody should have a pet elephant (and that includes the circuses: just Google "elephant circus" if you want to get bummed in a hurry).

(Oh and don't encourage elephant exploitation in Thailand. Google that, too.)

But I mean, come on, somebody a way back got up close to an elephant and took its picture.
You actually think I could pass that up?

(For a look at people who love and heal sad elephants, try going to Elephant Nature Park.)