The Social Life Of Monkeys And Apes

S. Zuckerman

• Publisher: Routledge
• Year: 2013
• eBook ISBN:
  9781136311666
• Topic: Medicine
• Subtopic: Health Care Delivery

This is Volume IV of four in a collection on Comparative Psychology. Originally published in 1932, this study is referred to as a classic, in both historical terms and its usefulness in the study of primates.

PART I

The Social Life of Monkeys and Apes

CHAPTER I

HUMAN SOCIOLOGY AND THE SUB-HUMAN PRIMATES

MONKEYS and apes had attracted human interest long before Hoppius, a naturalist of the eighteenth century, advised posterity that “it would lead not a little to Philosophy, if one were to spend a day” with apes “exploring how far human wit exceeds theirs, what distance lies between Brutish and rational discrimination.”^a His was a somewhat enterprising suggestion, since the only available information on which he could have based such an opinion consisted entirely of anecdotes whose apparent object was to show not how far removed apes are from men but, on the contrary, how subtly they behave and how often their behaviour can be described in terms which are found adequate to describe our own. But perhaps this utterance merely reflected his acceptance of Cartesian principles; or it may be that he doubted the accuracy of the literature on monkeys and apes—a literature so attractively unreal that any scientific discussion of the ways of the lower primates must seem commonplace in comparison. It is, indeed, not surprising that the anecdotal zoological literature of the late eighteenth and the early nineteenth centuries led students of human society further and further into the belief that close observation of the ways of apes and monkeys might reveal truths that would form a foundation for a study of the beginnings of human social behaviour.

Buffon,⁵⁶ and the Rev. W. Bingley,⁴⁴ as well as Griffith, Hamilton Smith, and Pidgeon,^128b writing in the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, give delightful accounts of the lives and characters of monkeys and apes, and have spun around the subject a web of romance from which it has not yet been freed. The Rev. W. Bingley tells of troops of “Oran Otans”, four thousand strong, living on the wooded banks of the river Gambia; and Buffon claims that “this animal is as tall and as strong as man, and as desirous of the female sex”. We are told that it uses stones to attack its enemies, and sleeps in trees, where it forms a kind of arbour to shelter from the weather. The same animal is also said to display a charming modesty. Bontius, who was head physician at Batavia in 1650, viewed with admiration some orangs walking erect, and among them a female “which seemed to have an idea of modesty, by covering with her hand a particular part of her body, from the sight of men whom she was not acquainted with”.^c M. Pallavicini, who was stationed at Batavia about a century later, kept two orangs, a male and a female, “which were extremely mild and gentle”. If “the female was attentively looked at by any person, she would throw herself into the arms of the male, and hide her face in his bosom”,^d Although modest, apes nevertheless appear to be alarmingly ferocious, showing no mercy to luckless negroes who happen to cross their paths. They kill only the men, in their passion abducting the women, “which they keep with them for the pleasure of their company, feeding them very plentifully all the time.”⁶⁶ It is also said that during the breeding season male apes are almost equally considerate to their own females and offspring, to whom they surrender their arbours, and Battel, a Portuguese traveller, tells us—although Bingley found this hard to believe —that when an ape dies its fellows cover up the body with great branches of trees.

The romance continues around the exploits of monkeys, who, we learn, live in much larger troops than do apes.

“Some naturalists have been credulous enough to believe that they form a sort of republic, in which a great degree of subordination is kept up; that they always travel in regular order, conducted by chiefs, the strongest and most experienced animals of their troop; and that, on these occasions, some of the largest Monkeys are likewise placed in the rear, the sound of whose voices immediately silences that of any of the others which happen to be too noisy. The negroes of Africa believe that these animals are a vagabond race of men, who are too indolent to construct habitations or to cultivate the ground.” ⁴⁴

But even human renegades must suffer the serpent. The monkey, says a traveller cited by Buffon,

“has it in his power to be master of the forest, for there are neither tygers nor lyons which can dispute the possession with it: the chief animal it has to fear, and which attack them both night and day is the snake. There are some snakes in those forests of a prodigious size, which wind up the trees where the monkies reside, and when they happen to surprise them sleeping, swallow them whole before the litde animals have time to make a defence.”

Although not as swift and stealthy as the serpent, man is an equally formidable enemy, whose attacks, it is said, stimulate monkeys to display great mutual solicitude. If one is shot and falls to the ground, “all the rest set up a dismal and tremendous howl”, and if one is wounded his fellows will seize him and carry him well out of the reach of the enemy.⁴⁴ M. Tavernier tells how, when travelling in the East Indies with the “English president”, the latter was so much amused by the large monkeys playing in the trees around him that he desired to shoot one. Undeterred by the advice of his attendants, he did so.

Immediately all the remaining monkeys “to the number of sixty or upwards, descended in fury, and as many as could, leaped upon the president’s coach, where they would soon have strangled him, had not the blinds been immediately closed, and the number of attendants so great as to drive them off. They however continued to run after the servants, for at least three miles from the place where their companion was slain.”^e

Delightful accounts are given of the howler monkeys. Buffon quotes Marcgrave’s report and describes them as assembling every evening and morning in the woods, when one of them climbs above the others, and with a gesture invites his fellows to seat themselves around him. As soon as they are all seated,

“he begins an oration with so quick and loud a voice, that, at a distance, it might be imagined they were all making a noise together. During the whole discourse the rest keeps a profound silence, and when it is ended, he makes signal to the rest to answer him, and immediately they all set up a cry together, till such time as by another sign with his hand, he orders them to be silent: when they are immediately obedient and quiet. Then the first renews his discourse, or his song, which, when finished, and the others have paid the utmost attention to, the whole assembly breaks up and separates.”

It is not surprising to learn that animals with such a flair for social organization are capable of acts of lofty altruism. As soon as a howler monkey is wounded, writes Oxmelin, an author quoted by Buffon, its fellows gather round, and place their fingers in the wound,

“as if they were desirous of sounding its depth. If the blood then flows in any quantity, they keep it shut up, while others get leaves, which they chew and thrust into the orifice. I can affirm having seen this circumstance several times with admiration.”

The early zoological writers found little to admire in the ways of baboons. Thus Bingley states that they are “as tall as men, have long faces, sunken eyes, and are otherwise extremely disgusting”, and Griffith, Hamilton Smith and Pidgeon describe them as “by far the most brutal, the most ferocious, the most vicious, and the most disgusting” of all apes and monkeys.

Reports made about the beginning of the nineteenth century relate that immense troops of Chacma baboons may be encountered in the mountains near the Cape of Good Hope. When approached they “set up an universal and horrible cry for a minute or two, and then conceal themselves in their fastnesses, and keep a profound silence”.⁴⁴ They make travelling very dangerous, sitting insolently on the tops of their rocks, from which they roll down stones of immense size. Robert Lade, who is quoted by the Rev. W. Bingley, was so impressed by the size of these baboons that he was surprised to learn that they were neither ferocious nor dangerous. A member of his party levelled a gun at a very large specimen that was sitting at the top of a tree.

“This kind of menace, of which the animal, perhaps, recollected his having sometimes seen the consequences, terrified him to such a degree that he fell down motionless at our feet, and we had no difficulty in seizing him. But, when he recovered from his stupor, it required all our dexterity and efforts to keep him. We tied his paws together, but he bit so furiously, that we were under the necessity of binding our handkerchiefs over his head.”

A baboon observed by Buffon was

“insolently lascivious, and satisfied its strong desires in public. It seemed also to make a parade of its" nakedness, presenting its posteriors oftener to the spectators than its head; but it was particularly impudent in the presence of women, and plainly showed its immoderate desires before them by an inexpressible lascivity. The magot, and some others of the monkey kind, have likewise the same strong inclinations, but as they are less in size, and not so petulant, they were more easily corrected; whereas, the baboon is not only an incorrigible animal, but intractable to the utmost degree.”

The Wanderoo monkey also has a “strong passion” for the female sex. Buffon describes these animals as being extremely ferocious, and writes that according to Forbin they

“principally attack women, and often, after having greatly injured them, finish their cruelty by strangling. Sometimes they even come to their houses j but the Macaroes, who are very jealous of their wives, take care to prevent their entrance into their habitations; and the females not liking (as the chevalier humorously relates) either the manners or the figure of the paltry gallants, boldly stand on their defence, and with clubs, or whatever other arms they can provide, instead of answering their caresses, oblige their ugly suitors to retract, not, however, before they have damaged or plundered everything they can lay their hands on.”

Throughout the literature one reads accounts of monkeys who go in a body to attack gardens or plantations, and who, in spite of the care that is taken to prevent their raids, are usually successful. It is said that before they begin their plunder, they invariably send one of their party to some prominent point, in order to warn the others of any interruption. The sentinel remains on guard throughout the raid and, if he perceives any human being approach, gives a loud bark, whereupon the rest of his troop immediately escape and take to the trees, carrying their booty with them. They are said to do incalculable injury to the orchards and crops, tearing down and destroying far more than they eat or carry away.

Buffon’s account of the pillaging exploits of baboons is a delightful romance. He writes that the baboons

“generally keep together in companies, and sally forth to commit their depredations on the neighbouring vineyards, or orchards. ‘As they are extremely fond of grapes, apples, and ripe fruit, they assemble together in great numbers, and proceed on their enterprize with previous deliberation. The dogs who are set to watch, do not easily conquer these animals, as they are extremely agile, and make dexterous use of their teeth and daws. On these occasions, a part of them enter the inclosure, while one of the company stands centinel; the rest stand without the fence, a small distance from each other, and form a line, reaching all the way from the inclosure to the rendezvous without, which is generally in some craggy mountains. Every thing being thus disposed, the plunderers within the orchard throw the fruit to them without as fast as they can gather it; or, if the wall or hedge be high, to those that sit at the top, and these hand the plunder to those next their side. Thus, the fruit is pitched from one to another all along the line, till it is safely deposited at their headquarters: they catch it as ready as the most skilful tennis-player can a ball; and, while the business is going forward, which they conduct with great expedition, a most profound silence is observed among them. The centinel during this whole time continues upon the watch, extremely anxious and attentive; but, if he perceives any one coming, he instantly sets up a loud cry, and at this signal the whole company scamper off.’ ”

If reports are to believed, monkeys have triumphed in quite different encounters with human beings. A chronicler of the deeds of Alexander the Great relates that one night his soldiers happened to encamp on a mountain on which lived a large number of monkeys. Early next morning they saw from afar what appeared to be an immense army, approaching as if to give battle. Neither Alexander nor his officers could understand who the enemy might be, since they had already subdued all the princes of the country. Nevertheless, the alarm was immediately given, and soon the whole Macedonian army was drawn up in battle array. A captive prince was asked for his opinion, and shown the approaching enemy. He immediately recognized them as monkeys, and “the Macedonians were not a little chagrined that they should have been such fools as to mistake a troop of these imitative animals for a band of armed men”.⁴⁴ They need not have been so chagrined, for another story relates how a band of soldiers was repulsed in South Africa by a troop of baboons.

In 1810, according to Lieutenant Schipp,^f a baboon, one of a pack that lived in the rocks above Simonstown, entered the barracks and made off with some clothes. A party of twenty men, under an officer, was detailed to recover the stolen property, and a circuit was made to cut off the baboons from the caves in which they always took cover. Unfortunately, however, these tactics were forestalled and, according to the report, fifty baboons were detached to guard the entrance to the caves, while the rest, acting under the orders of an old grey-haired animal who was recognized as a frequent visitor to the barracks, started collecting large stones and other missiles. Unperturbed by these preparations, the soldiers rushed on to the attack. But in vain. For, at a scream from the leader, the enemy proceeded to hurl down such big stones that they were forced to retreat.

Thus apes and monkeys leave a trail of fantasy in their passage from one traveller’s tale to another. Robert and Ada Yerkes seem to discount unduly the purely literary qualities of these early zoological writings when they state, “we have been deeply and unfavourably impressed by the uncritical copying, quoting, or paraphrasing of author by author. … As one contemplates the utter wastefulness and the negative intellectual value of this procedure, one is depressed.”³⁹⁵ The contemplation of the sociological generalizations of some too credulous writers perhaps provides better cause for depression. Only too often have anecdotal accounts, similar to those quoted in the preceding paragraphs, been made the basis for speculation about human social origins.

It is now generally recognized that anthropomorphic preoccupations do not help the critical development of knowledge, either in fields of physical or of biological inquiry. Gods had to be banished from the skies before it could be seen that the movements of the stars conformed to mathematical laws. The emotions of the moth had to be disregarded before the nature of its reactions to light stimuli could be scientifically explained. But although this principle has been accepted in most fields of science, mammalian sociology has developed without any real regard for questions concerning the validity of anecdotal and anthropomorphic evidence, and, indeed, has seldom been discussed on its own merits or approached except in its relation to problems of human sociolo...

Table of contents

• Cover Page
• Half Title page
• Series Title page
• frontispiece1
• Title Page
• Copyright Page
• Contents
• Illustrations
• Introduction and Preface to Second Edition
• Preface
• Part I The Social Life of Monkeys and Apes
• Part II Postscript and Appendices to the Second Edition
• Acknowledgments
• Index of Animals
• Index of Authors and Subjects(see also separate Index of Animals)