In the 1890s a a black baboon (Papio ursinus) was “hired” by the South African Railways for manage signage which regulated the train traffica position that the monkey held for 9 years. As absurd as it may seem, the story of this monkey is true and is even confirmed by an article published on Nature in 1990. But… how is this possible? And above all, why would you ever hire a monkey to work on the railways?
Who was Jack the baboon: the story
This story begins with James “Jumper” Widea South African railway worker who worked at the Cape Town – Port Elizabeth Rail Service (at the time a British colony). As suggested by his nickname, he was famous in the environment for a practice that was anything but safe: jump from one train carriage to another to manage switches between tracks. This peculiarity made him quite well known in the South African municipality of Uitenhage, at least until a jump went wrong and he he suddenly lost both legs from the knee down.
Without legs, however, it was extremely complex to manage railway traffic and therefore he was forced to “assume” an assistant: he opted for a black baboon (Papio ursinus) by name Jack purchased at a local market. He was taught not only to manage the levers that operated the various railway signals via a whistle, but also to arrange green areas of the station and others close doors. Oh, and he also managed to train the monkey to push the trolley on rails on which Mr. Wide moved – a sort of wheelchair on tracks.
Jack apparently excelled at his job, so much so that one witness quoted by Nature says that:
Jack knew each of the various signals and which levers to pull as well as his master. (…) Jack also defended Wide in an argument and on another occasion drove away a foreman by beating him with a bag of dirty coal.
Jack’s hiring and his legacy
How would you react if during a journey you saw a baboon managing railway traffic? Probably not well, and that’s why many people complained about this “newcomer”. Do you think that the Railway Service also officially gave the go-ahead to an investigation which, at first, prompted the authorities to immediately suspend both the baboon and his owner. Fortunately for him, Mr. Wide managed to convince the authorities to test Jack’s skills before making his dismissal official and, in defiance of all expectations, the baboon caused a sensation with his skill, so much so that he was taken regularly. Just think that Jack not only had his own identification number but was even paid: 20 cents a day And half a bottle of beer per week – although it probably all ended up in Mr. Wide’s pockets (and belly).
Unfortunately the monkey next 9 years of honorable service he fell ill with tuberculosis and, in 1890, died.
This story, however absurd, has been extremely important to investigate over the years relationship between humans and monkeys and what remains of Jack today, in addition to his legacy, is the skull, preserved by the Albany Museum in Grahamstown.
