Carl Akeley: The Taxidermist Who Wrestled Leopards, Got Stomped by Elephants and Saved Gorillas
Carl Akeley wasn’t just a great taxidermist; he was the taxidermist. This man didn’t just preserve animal carcasses; he revolutionised the art, turning it from stuffing straw into skins to creating lifelike, scientifically accurate recreations of animals in their natural environments. And he did all this while surviving encounters that would make most adventurers go weak in the knees, including hand-to-claw combat with a leopard, charging elephants, and more.
The Early Days: From Farm Boy to Taxidermy Prodigy
Born in 1864, Akeley grew up in rural New York, a quiet, pale farm boy who loved animals with an intensity that went well beyond normal. While other kids were horsing around or causing trouble, young Carl was out sketching wildlife in blood (yes, his blood) and creating precise drawings of plants and animals. By the time he was 19, he was so obsessed with bringing life to the animals he saw that he left his hometown and journeyed to Rochester, where he scored an apprenticeship with the only decent taxidermist in the world, Henry Ward.
This wasn’t a job of glamour or fortune. Akeley worked long hours—11 hours a day, six days a week—earning around $3.50 a week for his efforts. But he didn’t mind. He was laser-focused, watching and learning everything about preserving animals in as realistic a way as possible. At the time, taxidermy amounted to little more than stuffing animal skins with straw. If it vaguely resembled the animal, it was a job well done. But for Akeley, this was just not enough. He wanted animals to look alive, even after death, with natural musculature and realistic poses.
A New Vision for Taxidermy
Akeley had no patience for anything less than perfection. He pioneered an entirely new method: making a model of the animal’s muscles and body shape with clay and plaster before carefully placing the skin over it. He took things further by designing entire scenes, creating wax trees, realistic rocks, and even weathered branches, so each taxidermied animal would look exactly like it would in its natural environment. It wasn’t long before museums noticed his work and brought him on to create exhibits that looked so lifelike, they seemed to be frozen in time.
Eventually, he found himself at the American Museum of Natural History in New York, where he made a rather unconventional deal: he’d work for free if the museum agreed to fund his trips to Africa. And here’s where Akeley’s story takes a decidedly epic turn. These trips weren’t just about collecting specimens; Akeley was on a mission to capture, preserve, and understand Africa’s wildlife for future generations—before thoughtless hunting wiped entire species out.
Life or Death in the African Bush
Carl Akeley didn’t just collect animals; he went through some wild (and downright deadly) experiences to do it. Take his infamous encounter with a leopard in Somalia. One evening, Akeley came back to find that a leopard had dragged off his freshly-killed hyena. When he went to investigate, the leopard launched at him. Caught without time to defend himself, Akeley threw up his left arm to protect his throat, only for the leopard to bite down hard. Realising he’d have to act fast to survive, Akeley did the unthinkable: he shoved his hand further into the leopard’s mouth, causing it to gag. Somehow, he managed to wrestle the animal to the ground and kill it with his bare hands. He then threw the leopard over his shoulder, walked back to camp, and taxidermied it for good measure.
A few years later, on Mount Kenya, he had another life-or-death brush with wildlife. While tracking a massive elephant, Akeley suddenly found himself face-to-face with the enormous beast in thick brush. The elephant lunged, swiping him with its trunk, leaving him bleeding and stunned. With only seconds to react, Akeley grabbed the tusk and twisted himself between them, narrowly avoiding impalement. But the elephant then smashed him into the ground, breaking several ribs, one of which punctured his lung. His porters, convinced he was dead, left him in the mud, where he lay unconscious for hours before coming to. It took him three months to recover from the injuries, but as soon as he could, he went right back to his work.
The Conservationist with a Double-Barrelled Rifle
While Akeley was undoubtedly an explorer and hunter, his goals extended far beyond mere trophy hunting. He had a profound sense of responsibility towards the animals he hunted and taxidermied. For Akeley, preserving these animals was a way to create a permanent record for future generations. He believed that if the human fascination with big-game hunting continued unchecked, species like gorillas and elephants could vanish in his lifetime.
During his expeditions, he convinced the King of Belgium to establish what is now Virunga National Park in the Congo, specifically to protect mountain gorillas. His influence even reached back to the United States, where he persuaded Teddy Roosevelt to support the establishment of national parks and reserves across the country, including ones aimed at protecting California’s redwood forests.
A Legacy Cemented in Clay and Plaster (and Conservation)
Akeley continued his African expeditions right up until the end of his life. In 1926, he returned to Africa not to hunt, but to observe gorillas. He became one of the first people to film and record gorillas in their natural habitat. Unfortunately, during this expedition, he fell ill with a fever and passed away at the age of 62. As he had requested, he was buried in the place he loved, on the side of a mountain in the Congo, surrounded by the landscapes and animals he had worked so hard to preserve.
Today, his work lives on in the American Museum of Natural History’s Akeley Hall of African Mammals, where his incredibly lifelike exhibits still educate and inspire visitors. His contributions to taxidermy, filmmaking, and conservation mark him as one of the most fascinating figures of his era—a man who embraced both the art of preservation and the call of the wild. So, the next time you walk through a museum and marvel at a stunningly realistic animal display, remember Carl Akeley, the man who fought leopards, wrestled elephants, and left a legacy for future generations to admire and learn from.
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