Claire Ellicott - Saving Anne the Elephant--The True Story of the Last British Circus Elephant

I t was a crisp night in January. Outside, the stars were twinkling and the residents of the sleepy village of Polebrook in rural Northamptonshire were settling down for the night. All except for one. In a large and stuffy metal hangar, surrounded by stables crammed with camels, horses and miniature ponies, Anne, Britains last circus elephant, was chained to the spot by her front and hind leg. Defenceless and numb, she awaited yet another attack by the cruel groom who had terrorised her for months. Her existence was pitiful and squalid and had changed little in the fifty years she had spent at Bobby Roberts Super Circus. Locked away in the dim and crowded barn in the circus winter quarters, the only break from the monotony was the regular abuse she endured. But no one knew what her life was like or what she suffered until an investigator from an animal rights campaign group sneaked a camera into her barn. He planted the pinhole device in a hole in the back wall of the shed and let it run for three weeks. Though the group were well used to seeing horrific animal abuse images, the footage shocked even them. Annes groom, a Romanian man named Nicolae Nitu, twenty-five, who had been hired to muck out the stables, was subjecting her to the most appalling assaults.

Day after day, he was filmed entering her barn and attacking her, stabbing her in the face with a pitchfork, beating her around the head with metal staves and kicking her severely arthritic leg, which she still drags behind her. The violence was casual, arbitrary and entirely unprovoked. She was hit no fewer than forty-eight times. The mighty creature was shown wincing in pain and cowering from her attacker every time he entered the barn. At one point, she seemed to wet herself in fear. At another, she tried to escape but the chains she endured all day, every day, kept her rooted to the spot. And though elephants have thick skin, there can be no doubt that she suffered. Her arthritic leg nearly gave way several times under the force.

And she wasnt the only animal he attacked. Nitu, who couldnt speak English and was simply known as Jimmy at the circus because no one could say his name, was shown kicking and beating ponies and spitting in camels faces. But most of his rage was reserved for Anne. In one clip, he is shown raking the hay near her while she stands next to him, motionless. Suddenly, he picks up the pitchfork and wallops her on her arthritic leg. It is an act of wanton cruelty that no normal human being could bear to watch without stepping in. But no one was there to step in and no one came to save her. Her owner, Bobby, entered the barn just four times during the three weeks of filming. His wife Moira didnt go once. When Bobby did go in, he was wearing a suit. The film shows him looking at her, his hands on his hips, as she stares back at him. Then he walks off camera to her side and Anne is shown forlornly, tentatively, reaching out her trunk to him. But he kicks it away and she recoils.

The footage, which is now world-famous, is heartbreaking. But what is most heartbreaking of all is the everyday life she endured. Shackled to the floor by chains in a dank barn with a meagre scattering of hay for most of the year and wheeled out to perform tricks in front of crowds for the rest, she knew little else during her fifty years with the circus. Unable to move more than one pace in any direction, she developed a habit of swaying from side-to-side and lifting her trunk and leg in what animal behaviourists call stereotypic behaviour.

Vets think the crippling arthritis that hampers her every movement and causes her to drag her back leg is almost certainly a result of her circus performances. Forced to rear on her hind legs and balance on a tub for matinee and then evening shows, she has permanent damage to her frame, they say.

For the short breaks in between her performances, she was chained to a wooden pallet on the ground outside in a tiny area. With no prospect of relief from the doleful life of boredom and humiliation, the days will no doubt have blended into one. And while she had clear physical ailments as a result, she was also suffering psychologically. When she arrived at Longleat, vets said she was suffering the animal equivalent of posttraumatic stress. Her osteopath said her eyes had lost their sparkle.

Though many have seen the edited online footage, which focuses only on the violence meted out to her, few have seen the endless hours during which Anne was chained to the floor, which was her true day-to-day existence. Even now, when she is free from the circus and living in retirement in a place that caters to her every need, she still exhibits the same compulsive, stereotypic behaviour. It is a powerful reminder of how, just like humans, animals can suffer psychological damage.

That damage would have started young. Born in Sri Lanka, she was taken from her mother at the age of about four. There is disagreement over whether she was wild or captive-born, but had she been the former, she would have had to be broken an horrific process that involves putting an elephant in a crush (a small pen bordered with logs) and denying it food until its spirit is broken and it becomes entirely subservient to its human controllers.

She was then bought by Bobby Roberts father and shipped over to England. She was later inherited by his son and spent fifty years with the family circus performing pirouettes, standing on tubs and galloping round the ring with dancers on her back. In her many years at the circus, she was fed by Her Majesty The Queen, went up the Eiffel Tower and featured on a special edition of the BBCs Songs of Praise. A regular on television, she has also starred in films, adverts and music videos. But as public opinion began to turn against wild animals in circuses, the number of performing elephants in the UK decreased until it was just Anne. Animal rights groups bided their time until Animal Defenders International (ADI) uncovered the footage that changed everything.

Desperate to free her, the pressure group handed the footage to the Daily Mail, who, day after day, ran a high profile and unrelenting campaign for her rescue. I, a reporter for the newspaper, broke the story with my colleague Chris Greenwood and visited Anne, the circus and the winter quarters, reporting on the rapidly developing story.

Meanwhile, back at the circus, the groom had already fled to his native Romania. He has never been brought to justice because he cannot be extradited. Animal cruelty is judged to be such a minor offence that there is no warrant for his arrest.

His departure meant much of the anger was directed at the Robertses, who were still travelling with their circus. Fury erupted across the country and the circus was picketed everywhere it went. Meanwhile, Anne was still at the winter quarters and still chained to the ground. Behind the scenes, the newspaper, animal rights organisations and safari parks were all frantically trying to find a way to save her from her miserable condition. Over the following days, public pressure on her owners grew from a din to a roar and Bobby was persuaded to let her go. A plan was agreed to send her to Longleat Safari Park & Adventure Park in Wiltshire, where she could at last retire and enjoy her life.