Elephant and Castle

While rooting around for meanings of the phoenix (see the post Nov 21, 2011) in medieval bestiaries, I came across a wonderful account of the elephant. The elephant with a war tower on its back (the Elephant and Castle) really caught the imagination of medieval artists, where it became a popular motif in church carving and in heraldry – though I’ve never seen it on domestic furniture, pottery or needlework. Perhaps it had fallen out of favor by the 16th and 17th centuries?

According to the bestiaries, the elephant had no joints in its legs, so if it fell down, it was stuck and unable to rise. The poor animals had to sleep standing up, leaning against trees. A sneaky hunter sawed half-way through a tree which broke and deposited the huge animal helplessly on the ground. But then he had a problem – how to get the elephant up. First he tried with a single large elephant (symbolizing Hebrew Law) then with a team of twelve (the Prophets) but both failed. Then along came a smaller, unprepossessing elephant who wrapped his trunk around him and pulled him upright, just as Christ came to save mankind and raise him up again after the Fall.

What a great example of the medieval mind at work – finding the “reality” of a creature seen only in second- or third-hand illustrations, and then fitting it to a pre-existing story that embodied a far deeper and more universal reality.

Next time you’re in London and downing a pint or two in the Elephant and Castle pub, think of that, and be careful not to fall down stiff-legged on your way out.

The carving we show is on a 14th-century choir stall in Chester cathedral – but the elephant here has knees, in fact, he seems to have the legs of a horse. The Illumination (with properly stiff legs!) is from the Harley Manuscript, c. 1255.