Working for Figurative Peanuts and Literal Beer
For most people, saying “a monkey could do my job” is a roundabout way of saying
that their current position of employment isn’t exactly that mentally taxing.
For James Wide though, it was more of a statement of fact because for 9 years in the late 19th
century, his job of railroad signalman at Uitenhage station in South Africa was literally
done by a chacma baboon called Jack.
Jack came to prominence thanks to a tragic event in 1877 when his eventual owner, James
Wide, lost both of his legs in a horrific accident.
Prior to the accident, Wide had worked for Cape Government Railways as a guard.
During his tenure as a railway guard, Wide developed a knack for jumping between and
onto moving trains, which earned him the wholly unimaginative nickname, “Jumper”.
If you’re thinking that Wide’s habit of jumping between moving trains had something
to do with him eventually losing both of his legs, you’re absolutely correct.
After mis-timing a jump between two trains, Wide landed on the tracks and was unable to
move in time to stop the 80 ton car from crushing his shins and feet.
The damage was so extensive that Wide’s legs had to be amputated at the knees, leaving
him crippled and of little use to the company.
Not to be dissuaded, after recovering from his injuries, Wide carved himself a pair of
peg legs and begged his superiors at the railway company to give him a job.
Wide’s pleas didn’t fall on deaf ears and he was given the job of signalman, which
basically put him in charge of conveying information to conductors via the various signals placed
on the tracks, among other similar duties.
Although the job required little physically strenuous activity, since all of the signals
were controlled by a series of levers that Wide could reach from a chair, he still had
troubled getting to and from work.
To help with this, the ever industrious Wide made himself a trolley that he could sit on.
Even with the trolley, getting to work was still a hugely tiring endeavour for Wide and
for a while, he struggled with this task until, according to a July of 1890 edition of the
science journal, Nature, Wide spotted the fuzzy solution to all of his problems- a baboon
leading an oxen cart at his local market in 1881.
A curious Wide struck up a conversation with the animal’s owner and learned that along
with being trained to obey a few simple commands, the baboon, who was called “Jack”, was
sufficiently strong enough to push and pull relatively heavy loads.
jack-the-signalman3Upon learning this, Wide asked the owner if he’d be willing to part
with the animal so that he could train it to push him to and from work.
The owner, perhaps moved by Wide’s condition or maybe Wide just offered a price he couldn’t
refuse, for whatever reason agreed to give up ownership of Jack.
Again according to Nature, before the two men parted ways, the owner explained to Wide
that he should give Jack a “tot of good Cape brandy” every night if he wanted him
to work, as without it, the baboon would spend the next day sulking and would even become
disobedient.
(This is similar to the famous circus elephant, Jumbo, who would reportedly get very annoyed
if his trainer forgot to give him a bottle of beer before he went to sleep).
Initially Wide simply trained Jack to push his trolley (which had been designed by Wide
to fit on train tracks) along the half mile section of track between his house and the
signal box he worked in.
It wasn’t long though before Wide realised that Jack was a lot smarter than he’d assumed
and could be trained for other tasks.
For example, one of Wide’s duties involved grabbing a key to the coal store from a locked
box and delivering it to train drivers when they tooted their whistles four times.
After only a few days of working together, Jack picked up on this and soon began grabbing
the key before Wide could whenever he heard the appropriate number of whistles and delivered
it himself.
jack-the-signalman4With a bit of training, Jack also learned to operate the levers in
the signal box that controlled which section of track a train would travel on as it passed
by, similarly picking up on the audio cues given by drivers.
While the system itself wasn’t that complicated, consisting of a few levers that controlled
certain pieces of track that would be pulled in a certain order based on whether a driver
tooted one, two or three times, and is something you could probably train a dog to do with
the right setup, Jack had something dogs don’t have- opposable thumbs, which made him a bit
more useful with the equipment at hand.
Jack soon became a familiar figure at the signal hut and drivers didn’t take long
to become accustomed to the unusual sight of a disabled man and a baboon working in
tandem whenever they passed through Uitenhage station.
As you can imagine though, some passengers weren’t exactly enthused with the idea of
their lives literally being in the hands of a baboon, and after one particular member
of the public caught sight of Jack in the signal hut, a complaint was filed and the
pair were unceremoniously fired.
Wide appealed to the company to reconsider their decision, arguing that Jack actually
knew what he was doing.
After several more workers stepped forward to argue that, in their experience, Jack was
doing a pretty decent job prior to being fired , the company begrudgingly agreed to give
the baboon a test.
Wanting to make sure Jack could handle even the most complicated of scenarios, the test
was structured such that they played a series of rapidly changing whistles at Jack after
placing him in front of a set of levers with the same layout as those in the signal hut.
Jack passed this test without making a single mistake and he and Wide were given their jobs
back.
Since Jack was now an official employee of the company, instead of just a pet Wide brought
to work, Nature reported he was given a salary of 20 cents per day (about $5 today), daily
rations and a beer on Saturdays.
Hiring Jack proved to be a smart move for the company since not only did they get a
tourist attraction that brought people from all over to ride their trains to see the baboon,
but they also got a fiercely loyal guard with imposing baboon arms to chase away vandals
and trespassers.
Besides signal operator and occasional guard, during his time with the company, Jack was
also reportedly trained to clean, move railway sleepers, garden and was officially put in
charge of the keys to the coal yard.
Unfortunately, Jack met and untimely end when he contracted and died from consumption in
1890 (see: Why Tuberculosis was Called Consumption), which interestingly enough “Old World”
monkeys like Jack are highly susceptible to, unlike “New World” monkeys.
In total, Jack worked for the railway company for about nine years before his death.