From Captivity to Skeleton – The Story of an Elephant in the Nineteenth Century
Lea Marie Dultz, Clemens Wandslebe
“In our Western world, the elephant became known late, but in a manner that was all the more brilliant.” [1]
In the nineteenth century, German people were fascinated by elephants. For the first time large parts of the society were able to see these animals which found great popularity in Zoological Gardens, Circuses or even as travelling attractions [2]. At the same time, zoological collections endeavored to exhibit either a skin specimen or even a skeleton. In this sense, the zoological collection of the University of Heidelberg was no exception. A reference to the donation of an elephant skeleton from the collection’s director Heinrich Alexander Pagenstecher (1799-1869) to the university can be found in the university’s archive on the “Heidelberger zoologisches Museum” [3]. Pagenstecher requested financial assistance for the “installation of an elephant” [4], such as a pulley system, in a letter to the ministry of the interior. While the documents do show that these funds were approved, there are no further references to the whereabouts of the skeleton. The fact that there still is an elephant skull of a female Asian elephant in the current zoological collection, the same species as mentioned in the documents, allows the assumption that this part of the sizable animal did remain in Heidelberg. However, this cannot be proven due to a lack of sources.

Therefore, the elephant’s exact provenance remains to some extent an open question. The catalogue of the 1874 collection, however, delivers an important indication: There, an “Elephas indicus”, meaning an Asian elephant, acquired in 1871 by Alexander Pagenstecher from the zoo in Cologne is mentioned. Further research revealed that Pagenstecher was a friend of Nicolas Funck, then the director of the Zoological Garden in Cologne [5]. In a journal article, Pagenstecher describes his visit to the Zoological Garden, where he met an elephant that was kept there. In this article, he mentions that “its stuffed skin and bones, carefully prepared [...], adorn our museum in Heidelberg and [...] preserve his memory” [6]. Since only one elephant was kept at the Zoological Garden in Cologne at that time and only one Asian elephant can be found in the catalogue of the collection in Heidelberg, it can be assumed that precisely this elephant made its way from Cologne to Heidelberg.


The life of the elephant is well documented as well. The animal, which would later end in Heidelberg, was the first elephant of the Zoological Garden in Cologne, which was imported from Sri Lanka in 1864. Unfortunately, neither the name nor any pictures have been passed on [7]. An essay written by Heinrich Bodinus, the predecessor of Funck, however, illustrates the animals life in the Zoological Garden [8]. He documented his work with the elephant, pointing out the animals taming and the “dressage”, using an “iron hook” to lead the animal on one hand while recounting the learnability and the connection between the keeper and the animal on the other [9]. In this context, a special anecdote about the “Kölner Abgeordnetenfest”, a gathering of Rhineland liberals, on 22nd and 23rd July 1865 is particularly notable. When the gathering, seen as politically undesirable, was supposed to get disbanded by police force, Bodinus freed the elephant from its cage and blocked the policemen’s way to avoid a violent altercation [10]. In the aftermath, the animal became a minor celebrity in Cologne. However, this didn’t grant her a long life. As was customary at that time, she was kept in an enclosure that was too small and she was not properly cared for, leading to her premature death of Glanders in 1871 after seven years in the Zoological Garden at the age of 35–40. This disease was widespread in Zoological Gardens during that era [11].
The story of this elephant offers an insight into the then still young history of Zoological Gardens in the middle of the nineteenth century. At the time of their establishment, many of these institutions had the aspiration to become a facility for teaching natural science and to contribute to the study of animals. Particularly the observation and study of the animals’ behavior promised important insights [12]. This explains the connection to academic research, where skeletons were anatomically analyzed and exhibited, as can be seen with Pagenstecher and Funck. Due to a lack of resources and “interested professionals”, however, these aspiration of scientific rigour could often not be fulfilled [13]. Instead, some animals that were seen as especially spectacular were acquired as showpieces for economic reasons. The controversial Carl Hagenbeck, who supplied many zoological gardens with his exotic animals, played an important role in what became a thriving business [14].

Our elephant serves as an example for the ambiguity between the ‘scientific’ and the ‘spectacular.’ On the one hand, zoological experts such as Pagenstecher examined its skeleton, while on the other hand, records such as Bodinus’ depict performances of a keeper riding the elephant in front of a cheering audience [15]. The spectators’ delighted reaction indicates the fascination the German society held for the supposedly ‘exotic’. We can only speculate how the elephant was exhibited in Heidelberg after its death, but, when looking at contemporary trends in taxidermy, it can be assumed that the curators tried to display the skeleton as an impressive monstrosity [16].
[1] Schlegel, August Wilhelm: Indische Bibliothek, Bd. 1, Bonn 1823, S. 131.
[2] Oettermann, Stephan: Die Schaulust am Elefanten. Eine Elephantographia Curiosa, Frankfurt 1982, S. 181f.
[3] Schreiben des Zoologischen Instituts an die Großherzogliche Ökonomiekommission vom Dezember 1871, Universitätsarchiv Heidelberg (UAH), RA 5344.
[4] Schreiben des Zoologischen Instituts an die Großherzogliche Ökonomiekommission vom Dezember 1871, UAH, RA 5344.
[5] Becker, Ralf: „Der mit dem Jaguar tanzte…“, in: Zeitschrift des Kölner Zoos 59/2 (2016), S. 94f.
[6] Pagenstecher, Heinrich Alexander: Ein Besuch in den zoologischen Gärten zu Cöln und zu Frankfurt a. M., in: Der Zoologische Garten. Zeitschrift für Beobachtung Pflege und Zucht der Thiere 15 (1874), S. 19-27, hier: S. 23.
[7] Pagel, Theo B.: Der Kölner Zoo - Elefantenhaltung und -schutz - von 1864 bis heute, in: Zeitschrift des Kölner Zoos 67/2 (2024), S. 7-10.
[8] Bodinus, Heinrich: Der Elephant in der Gefangenschaft, in: Die Gartenlaube 2 (1866), S. 21-23.
[9] Bodinus: Der Elephant in der Gefangenschaft.
[10] Rieke-Müller, Annelore/Dittrich, Lothar: Der Löwe brüllt nebenan. Die Gründung zoologischer Gärten im deutschsprachigen Raum 1833-1869, Köln 1998, S. 114.
[11] Rieke-Müller, Annelore/Dittrich, Lothar: Carl Hagenbeck (1844-1913). Tierhandel und Schaustellung im Deutschen Kaiserreich, Frankfurt 1998, S. 91.
[12] Rieke-Müller/Dittrich: Der Löwe brüllt nebenan, S. 113.
[13] Rieke-Müller/Dittrich: Der Löwe brüllt nebenan, S. 114.
[14] Rieke-Müller/Dittrich: Carl Hagenbeck (1844-1913), S. 93.
[15] Bodinus: Der Elephant in der Gefangenschaft.
[16] Thorsen, Liv Emma/Rader, Karen A./Dodds, Adam (Hrsg.): Animals on Display. The Creaturely in Museums, Zoos and Natural History, University Park, Pennsylvania 2013. S. 30f.
Published 11.08.25