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“Going to see the elephant” was a goal for every miner in search of adventure when he set out for the gold fields of California. When the truth of the toil and disappointment set in and he returned home, he would say he had “seen the elephant.” Let us look at this distinctive expression that came to illustrate the California experience, and what happened when the elephants really did come to the Mother Lode.
Some historians believe that the phrase may originate from as far back as the third century B.C. Alexander the Great’s Macedonian army had defeated King Porus in the Indus Valley. What was so unique about this battle was that it was so very far away and that King Porus’ army was mounted on huge beasts never before seen by the Macedonians. When the warriors returned home, they thrilled their families with strange tales of the great beasts. Perhaps this is why the elephant came to be associated with long journeys, mighty quests and exotic lands.
Around A.D. 725 the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne went to great expense and effort to have an elephant brought to France. He had heard of this grand beast that could uproot trees, move large stones and eat gently out of the hands of its master. When the elephant was paraded through a town, word quickly spread. Peasants who rarely left their hometowns would go to great effort to travel many days and miles to “see the elephant.”
By the 1820s the traveling circus had reached the United States and it was considered the height of entertainment. Only the best circuses had elephants and people would come from miles around to see one. New England lore has it that one farmer wanted so badly to see the
animal that he set out early on market day to be sure to see the circus when it came to town. With his horse-drawn cart full of vegetables to sell, he headed off to town. The circus parade, led by the elephant, was approaching on another other road. Either the roadside shrubbery was so high his view was obstructed, or his horse was spooked; the horse and elephant collided. The horse, cart and all his goods for market were trampled and lost in the collision. Even though he lost everything, he declared, “At least I have seen the elephant.”
Another version has it that the elephant is that last member of the circus parade so that when the circus leaves town, the back end of the elephant is the last thing one sees. In that case, when one had “seen the elephant,” he had seen everything he needed to see in his quest.
When the Gold Rush called for the adventurous to go west, suddenly everyone wanted to see an elephant. Many diaries record notes about “going to see the elephant.” Overland diaries also sadly claim seeing many miners turning back who said they had seen enough of the elephant. Or maybe they had had a bad experience and just seen the elephant’s tracks or his tail, and that was close enough for them. One returning wagon train featured a huge charcoal elephant on the wagon: “What we saw at Pike’s Peak.”
Elephants came to California with the miners, too. Miners craved any form of entertainment and would pay dearly for a distraction from the tedium of their hard work. In 1859 a circus came to Tuolumne County with not one but two elephants with the grand names of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. They probably weren’t born in England, but it was the style to name exotic entertainers after royalty to appear more alluring. The local newspapers appealed to the miners’ senses of adventure with advertisements for Victoria and Albert. The ads enticed people by saying, “Now you can go see the elephant in California!”
After performances in Tuolumne County, the circus was traveling north from Columbia to Murphys and was crossing the Stanislaus River just south of Douglas Flat at the old Abbey’s Ferry. An elephant is as big as, well, an elephant, and luck was not on their side that day; the ferry couldn’t carry the weight of a pachyderm and it capsized. Poor Victoria drowned.
Elephants don’t mate for life, but it’s not like there was a replacement for her in the next town. They are among the most loyal of animals on Earth. The devoted Prince Albert was said to have pined for her ever after. Seeing the elephant had definitely taken on new dimensions in Calaveras and Tuolumne counties!
By the time of the Civil War, the Gold Rush had lost its magnetism. Young men seeking adventure who enlisted in the Civil War effort, on either side, were also accused of “going to see the elephant.”
“Seeing the elephant” had become synonymous with a hard lesson learned, but it was also the exotic, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
Some historians believe that the phrase may originate from as far back as the third century B.C. Alexander the Great’s Macedonian army had defeated King Porus in the Indus Valley. What was so unique about this battle was that it was so very far away and that King Porus’ army was mounted on huge beasts never before seen by the Macedonians. When the warriors returned home, they thrilled their families with strange tales of the great beasts. Perhaps this is why the elephant came to be associated with long journeys, mighty quests and exotic lands.
Around A.D. 725 the Holy Roman Emperor Charlemagne went to great expense and effort to have an elephant brought to France. He had heard of this grand beast that could uproot trees, move large stones and eat gently out of the hands of its master. When the elephant was paraded through a town, word quickly spread. Peasants who rarely left their hometowns would go to great effort to travel many days and miles to “see the elephant.”
By the 1820s the traveling circus had reached the United States and it was considered the height of entertainment. Only the best circuses had elephants and people would come from miles around to see one. New England lore has it that one farmer wanted so badly to see the
animal that he set out early on market day to be sure to see the circus when it came to town. With his horse-drawn cart full of vegetables to sell, he headed off to town. The circus parade, led by the elephant, was approaching on another other road. Either the roadside shrubbery was so high his view was obstructed, or his horse was spooked; the horse and elephant collided. The horse, cart and all his goods for market were trampled and lost in the collision. Even though he lost everything, he declared, “At least I have seen the elephant.”
Another version has it that the elephant is that last member of the circus parade so that when the circus leaves town, the back end of the elephant is the last thing one sees. In that case, when one had “seen the elephant,” he had seen everything he needed to see in his quest.
When the Gold Rush called for the adventurous to go west, suddenly everyone wanted to see an elephant. Many diaries record notes about “going to see the elephant.” Overland diaries also sadly claim seeing many miners turning back who said they had seen enough of the elephant. Or maybe they had had a bad experience and just seen the elephant’s tracks or his tail, and that was close enough for them. One returning wagon train featured a huge charcoal elephant on the wagon: “What we saw at Pike’s Peak.”
Elephants came to California with the miners, too. Miners craved any form of entertainment and would pay dearly for a distraction from the tedium of their hard work. In 1859 a circus came to Tuolumne County with not one but two elephants with the grand names of Queen Victoria and Prince Albert. They probably weren’t born in England, but it was the style to name exotic entertainers after royalty to appear more alluring. The local newspapers appealed to the miners’ senses of adventure with advertisements for Victoria and Albert. The ads enticed people by saying, “Now you can go see the elephant in California!”
After performances in Tuolumne County, the circus was traveling north from Columbia to Murphys and was crossing the Stanislaus River just south of Douglas Flat at the old Abbey’s Ferry. An elephant is as big as, well, an elephant, and luck was not on their side that day; the ferry couldn’t carry the weight of a pachyderm and it capsized. Poor Victoria drowned.
Elephants don’t mate for life, but it’s not like there was a replacement for her in the next town. They are among the most loyal of animals on Earth. The devoted Prince Albert was said to have pined for her ever after. Seeing the elephant had definitely taken on new dimensions in Calaveras and Tuolumne counties!
By the time of the Civil War, the Gold Rush had lost its magnetism. Young men seeking adventure who enlisted in the Civil War effort, on either side, were also accused of “going to see the elephant.”
“Seeing the elephant” had become synonymous with a hard lesson learned, but it was also the exotic, once-in-a-lifetime experience.
