THE LIFE JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, THE NATURALIST. EDITED BY His WIDOW. WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY JAS. GRANT WILSON. NEW YORK: G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS, 27 AND 29 WEST 230 ST. 1890. Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, MRS. JOHN J. AUDUBON, to the Cleik's Office of the District Court of the United States for UK Southern District of New York. TO MY KIND FRIEND, OBH. JAMES GRANT WILSON THIS VOLUME IS DEDICATED BY LUCY AUDUBON. INTRODUCTION. IN the summer of 1867, the widow of John James Audubcn, completed with the aid of a friend, a memoir of the great natu- ralist, and soon after received overtures from a London pub- lishing house for her work. Accepting their proposition for its publication in England, Mrs. Audubon forwarded the MSS., consisting in good part of extracts from her husband's journals and episodes, as he termed his delightful reminiscences of adventure in various parts of the New World. The London publishers pi ced these MSS. in the hands of Mr. Robert Buchanan, who prepared from them a single volume contain- ing about one third of the original manuscript. The following pages are substantially the recently published work, reproduced with some additions, and the omission of several objectionable passages inserted by the London ed- itor. Should Mrs. Audubon hereafter receive her manuscript, containing sufficient material for two volumes of printed mat- ter, and including many charming episodes " born from his traveling thigh, " as Ben Jonson quaintly expressed it, the American public may confidently look forward to other volumes, uniform with this one, of the Naturalist's writings. I do not deem it necessary to say aught in commenda- tion of the labors of the loving and gentle wife in preparing the following admirable memoir of her grand and large-hearted husband, " That cheerful one, who knoweth all The songs of all the winged choristers, And in one sequence of melodious sound, Pours out their music." Her delightful volume will better speak for itself. Noi do I deem it requisite to dwell at length on the works of iv Introduction. Audubon, pronounced by Baron Cuvier to be " the most splen- did monuments which art has erected in honor of ornithology. ' He was an admirable specimen of the Hero as a man of science. To quote an eloquent writer: " For sixty years or more he followed, with more than religious devotion, a beautiful and elevated pursuit, enlarging its boundaries by his discov- eries, and illustrating its objects by his art. In all climates and in all weathers ; scorched by burning suns, drenched by piercing rains, frozen by the fiercest colds ; now diving fear- lessly into the densest forest, now wandering alone over the most savage regions ; in perils, in difficulties, and in doubts ; with no companion to cheer his way, far from the smiles and applause of society ; listening only to the sweet music of birds, or to the sweeter music of his own thoughts, he faithfully kept his path. The records of man's life contain few nobler ex- amples of strength of purpose and indefatigable energy. Led on solely by his pure, lofty, kindling enthusiasm, no thirst for wealth, no desire of distinction, no restless ambition of ec- centric character, could have induced him to undergo as many sacrifices, or sustained him under so many trials. Higher principles and worthier motives alone enabled him to meet such discouragements and accomplish such miracles of achievement. He has enlarged and enriched the domains of a pleasing and useful science ; he has revealed to us the ex- istence of many species of birds before unknown ; he has given us more accurate information of the forms and habits of those that were known ; he has corrected the blunders of his predecessors ; and he has imparted to the study of natu- ral history the grace and fascination of romance." Of the man himself, Christopher North said, after speak- ing lovingly and appreciatively of him, "He is the greatest Artist in his own walk, that ever lived." The love of his vo- cation, after innumerable trials, successes and disappointments gave the lie to the Quo fit Maecenas of Horace, and was to the end of his long life most intense. Neither his friends, Sir Wal- ter Scott, or John Wilson, notably happy as they were in their home relations occupied a place in the domestic circle of hus- band and father, with a more beautiful display of kind, enno- bling, and generous devotion, than John James Audubon ; and Introduction. v nothing in his whole character stands out in a purer and more honorable light, than his discharge of all the duties of home. In private life his virtues endeared him to a large circle of devoted admirers ; his sprightly conversation, with a slight French accent ; his soft and gentle voice ; his frank and fine face, " aye gat him friends in ilka place." With those whose privilege it was to know the Naturalist, so full of fine enthusi- asm and intelligence ; with so much simplicity of character, frankness and genius, he will continue to live in their memories, though " with the buried gone ; " while to the artistic, litera- ry, and scientific world, he has left an imperishable name that is not in the keeping of history alone. Long after the bronze statue of the naturalist that we hope soon to see erected in the Central Park, shall have been wasted and worn beyond recognition, by the winds and rains of Heaven ; while the towering and snow-covered peak of the Rocky Mountains known as Mount Audubon, shall rear its lofty head among the clouds ; while the little wren chirps about our homes, and the robin and reed-bird sing in the green meadows ; while the melody of the mocking-bird is heard in the cypress swamps of Louisiana, or the shrill scream of the eagle on the frozen shores of the Northern seas, the name of John James Audu- bon, the gifted Artist, the ardent lover of Nature, and the admirable writer, will live in the hearts of his grateful coun- trymen. In the preface to the London edition of this work, I find the following just and generous words : " Audubon was a man of genius, with the courage of a lion and the simplicity of a child. One scarcely knows which to admire most the mighty determination which enabled him to carry out his great work in the face of difficulties so huge, or the gentle and guileless sweetness with which he through- out shared his thoughts and aspirations with his wife and children. He was more like a child at the mother's knee, than a husband at the hearth so free was the prattle, so thor- ough the confidence. Mrs. Audubon appears to have been a wife in every respect worthy of such a man : willing to sacri fice her personal comfort at any moment for the furtherance of his great schemes ; ever ready with kiss and counsel whea vi Introduction. guch were most needed ; never failing for a moment in hei faith that Audubon was destined to be one of the great work- ers of the earth. " The man's heart was restless ; otherwise he would never have achieved so much. He must wander, he must vagabon- dize, he must acquire ; he was never quite easy at the hearth. His love for Nature was passionate indeed, pursuing in all re- gions, burning in him to the last. Among the most touch- ing things in the diary, are the brief exclamations of joy when something in the strange city a flock of wild ducks overhead in London, a gathering of pigeons on the trees of Paris re- minds him of the wild life of wood and plain. He was boy-like to the last, glorying most when out of doors. " Of the work Audubon has done, nothing need be said in praise here. Even were I competent to discuss his merits as an ornithologist and ornithological painter, I should be si- lent, for the world has already settled those merits in full. I may trust myself, however, to say one word in praise of Au- dubon as a descriptive writer. Some of his reminiscences of adventure, some of which are published in this book, seem to me to be quite as good, in vividness of presentment and care- ful coloring, as anything I have ever read." J. G. W. 51 St. Mark's Place, New York, April, 1869. CONTENTS CHAPTER I. Audubon's Ancestry His Childhood First Visit to America The Bakewell Family Aspirations Youthful Recollections A Marvellous Escape. II CHAPTER II. Result of Audubon's Voyage to France Renewal of Bird-hunting Pursuits Return to America. 23 CHAPTER III. Return of Mrs. Audubon to her Father's House Audubon and Rosier move to Hendersonville 34 CHAPTER IV. Return Journey to Hendersonville Terrible Adventure on the Prairie Starts in Business at Hendersonville, and Succeeds Commences to draw Portraits. .... 46 CHAPTER V. Rambles in Kentucky Daniel Boone, the Famous Hunter. 59 CHAPTER VI. Audubon leaves Cincinnati with Captain Cummings Arrival at Natchez Departure for New Orleans Arrival at New Or- leans Want of Success Vanderlyn, the Painter Audu- bon leaves New Orleans for Kentucky Return to New Or- leans Review of Work done since leaving Home. . J1 CHAPTER VII. Wife and Sons arrive at New Orleans Difficulties of Obtaining a livelihood Audubon's Arrival at Natchez Audubon stud' viii Contents. ies Oil Painting Visit to Bayou Sara Leaves for Loui villewilh his son Victor Wanderings through the Wilds Residence at Louisville The Waste of Waters The Flood- ed Forest. 88 CHAPTER VIII. Audubon reaches Philadelphia Introduction to Sully the Painter Meetings with Rosier and Joseph Mason Audubon leaves Philadelphia Arrival at New York Leaves New York, and arrives at Albany Visit to Niagara A Voyage down the Ohio to the South Arrival at Cincinnati Turns Dan- cing-master. . 100 CHAPTER IX. Audubon Sails from New Orleans for England on board the Delos Incidents of the Voyage Arrival at Liverpool Visit to Manchester Opening of Subscription-book for great work Edinburgh Drawings exhibited at the Royal Institution. 1 18 CHAPTER X. Edinburgh The Royal Society Scott Edinburgh People Sydney Smith and a Sermon Miss O'Neill the Actress Mrs. Grant of Laggan Prospectus of the Great Work. 135 CHAPTER XI. Provincial Canvass for Subscribers Visit to London The Great Work hi Progress Horrors of London. ... 149 CHAPTER XII. Visit to Paris Baron Cuvier Reception at the Academy of Sci- ences Farewell to France. 161 CHAPTER Xltt Return to London Sets Sail for America Friends in New York. 181 CHAPTER XIV. The Meeting with his Wife and Sons Return with his Wife to England Provincial Canvass East Florida. . . 197 CHAPTER XV. Flor'dian Episodes The Live Oakers 335 Contents. ix CHAPTER XVH. Third Florida Episode : Spring Garden. ... 228 CHAPTER XVHL fifth Florida Episode : Deer Hunting. .... 235 CHAPTER XIX. Sixtt Florida Episode : Sandy Island. .... 243 CHAPTER XX. Seventh Florida Episode : The Wreckers. ... 249 CHAPTER XXL Eighth Florida Episode: The Turtlers. .... 257 CHAPTER XXDL Ninth Florida Episode: Death of a Pirate. ... 267 CHAPTER XXTTT. In America : Episode in New Brunswick. ... 274 CH AFTER XXIV. Episode in Maine : The Maine Lumbermen, ... 281 CHAPTER XXV. Visit to the Bay of Fundy. 288 CHAPTER XXVL Return to Boston Wanderings in the Neighborhood Voyage to Labrador in the Schooner Ripley Misadventures at Little River Seal and Mud Islands The Gut of Canseau. 295 CHAPTER XXVII. En Route to Labrador Gut of Canseau Magdalene Island The Inhabitants Ornitholigical Notes Birds on the Rock First Impressions of Labrador Halifax Eggers. . 306 CHAPTER XXVIII. ador Episodes: The Eggers of Labrador. . . 317 CHAPTER XXIX. Notes in Labrador Indians Civilities on Board the Quebec Cutter The Fur Company Severe Weather Winds and x Contents. Rain Excursions on Shore Hut of a Labrador Seal-Catch- er Great Macatine Islands Officers' Bivouac Ashore. 323 CHAPTER XXX. Labrador Episodes : The Squatters of Labrador. . 351 CHAPTER XXXI. NDtes on Labrador Gulf of St. Lawrence St. George's Bay, Newfoundland Land on Ruy's Island Wanderings Over- land Pictou Truro and the Bay of Fundy Arrival at Halifax, Nova Scotia Arrival at New York. . 359 CHAPTER XXXTT. Journal Resumed Washington Irving Wanderings South Florida Excursion Abandoned Returns North Sails for England Visit to Baron Rothschild Removal to Edinburgh Return to London Embarks with much Live Stock to New York Notes by the Way. ... .376 CHAPTER XXXIII. In America Philadelphia Boston Friends and Birds Meet- ing with Daniel Webster Back to New York Social Meet- ings Washington Two Letters of Washington Irving Interview with the President Proposed Scientific Expedi- tion. .... . . 386 CHAPTER XXXIV. Excursion South Starts in Cutter for Galveston Bay, Texas Barataria Bay Great Hunting Excursion with a Squatter Notes in Texas Buffalo Bayou Texas Capitol and Houses of Congress Reaches New Orleans In England Again Literary Labors Back to America. . 400 CHAPTER XXXV. Excursion to the Great Western Prairies Up the Missouri Riv- er Pictures The Mandans The " Medicine Lodge" Ricaree Indians Fort Union Buffalo Hunt Small- Pox among the Indians Return to New York. . 417 CHAPTER XXXVI. Audubon's Last Days His Habits Love of Music Description of Audubon Park His Library and Studio Visitors Ex- hibition of Drawings Mental Gloaming Loss of Sight The Naturalist's Death and Funeral. ... 435 LIFE OF AUDUBON CHAPTER I. Ancestry His Childhood First Visit to America The Bakewell Family Aspirations Youthful Recoiltctiont A Marvellous Escape. ] HE name of Audubon is of French origin ; it is extremely rare, and while confined in America to the family of the naturalist, has in France been traced only among his ancestry. Audubon has told us all that he knew of his relations. He writes : " John Audubon my grandfather was born at the small village of Sable d'Olonne, in La Vende'e, with a small harbor, forty-five miles south from Nantes. He was a poor fisher- man with a numerous family, twenty-one of whom grew to maturity. There was but one boy besides my father, he being the twentieth born, and the only one of the numer- ous family who lived to a considerable age. In subse- quent years, when I visited Sable d'Olonne, the old inhabitants told me that they had seen the whole of this family, including both parents, at church several times on Sunday." The father of the naturalist appears to have caught at an early age the restless spirit of his times, and his father, who saw in it the only hope the youth had of obtaining distinction, encouraged his love of adventure. He him- self says of his start in life : " When I was twelve years of age my father provided me with a shirt, a dress of warm clothing, his blessing, and a cane, and sent me out to seek my fortune." 1 2 Life of Audubon. The youth went to Nantes, and falling in with the captain of a vessel bound on a fishing voyage to the coast of America, he shipped on board as a boy before the mast. He continued at sea, and by the age of seventeen was rated as an able-bodied seaman. At twenty-one he com- manded a vessel, and at twenty-five he was owner and captain of a small craft. Purchasing other vessels, the enterprising adventurer sailed with his little fleet to the West Indies. He reached St. Domingo, and there fortune dawned upon him. After a few more voyages he pur- chased a small estate. The prosperity of St. Domingo, already French, so influenced the mariner's interests, that in ten years he realized a considerable fortune. Obtain- ing an appointment from the Governor of St. Domingo, he returned to France, and in his official capacity became intimate with influential men connected with the govern- ment of the First Empire. Through their good offices he obtained an appointment in the Imperial navy and the command of a small vessel of war. A warm sympathy with the changes wrought by the revolution, and an idolatrous worship of Napoleon, must have contributed greatly to his success. While resident in France he purchased a beautiful estate on the Loire, nine miles from Nantes ; there, after a life of remarkable vicissitude, the old sailor died, in 1818, at the great age of ninety -five, regretted, as he deserved to be, on account of his simplicity of man- ners and perfect sense of honesty. Our Audubon has described his father as a man of good proportions, measuring five feet ten inches in height, having a hardy constitution and the agility of a wild cat His manners, it is asserted, were most polished, and his natural gifts improved by self-education. He had a warm and even violent temper, described as rising at times into "the blast of a hurricane," but readily appeased. While His Early Tears. 13 residing in the West Indies, he frequently visited Nortl- America, and with some foresight made purchases of land in the French colony of Louisiana, in Virginia, and Penn- sylvania. In one of his American visits he met and mirried in Louisiana a lady of Spanish extraction, named Anne Moynette, whose beauty and wealth may have made her equally attractive. A family of three sons and one daughter, blessed this union, and the subject of this biographical sketch was the youngest of the sons. A few years after his birth Madame Audubon accompanied her husband to the estate of Aux Cayes in the island of St. Domingo, and there miserably perished during the memo- rable rising of the negro population. The black revolt so endangered the property of the foreigners resident in St. Domingo, that the plate and money belonging to the Audubon family had to be carried away to New Orleans by the more faithful of their servants. Returning to France with his family, the elder Audubon again married, left his young son, the future naturalist, under .charge of his second wife, and returned to the United States, in the employment of the French govern- ment, as an officer in the Imperial navy. While there he became attached to the army under Lafayette. Moving hither and thither under various changes, he seldom or never communicated with his boy ; but meanwhile the prop- erty which remained to him in St. Domingo was greatly augmenting in value. During a visit paid to Pennsylvania, the restless Frenchman purchased the farm of Millgrove on the Perkiomen Creek, near the Schuylkill Falls. Finally, after a life of restless adventure, he returned to France and filled a post in the marine ; and after spending some portion of his years at Rochefort, retired to his estate on the Loire. This estate was left by Commodore Audubon to his son John James, who conveyed it to his sister without even visiting the domain he so generously willed away. 14 Life of Auduhon. The naturalist was born on his father's plantation^ near New Orleans, Louisiana, May 4th, 1780, and his earliest recollections are associated with lying among the flowers of that fertile land, sheltered by the orarge trees, and watching the movements of the mocking-bird, "the king of song," dear to him in after life from many associations. He has remarked that his earliest impressions of nature were exceedingly vivid ; the beauties of natural scenery stirred " a frenzy " in his blood, and at the earliest age the bent of his future studies was indicated by many characteristic traits. He lef*. Louisiana while but a child, and went to St. Domingo, where he resided for a short period, previous to his departure for France, where his education was to be commenced. His earliest recollections of his life in France extend to his home in the central district of the city of Nantes, and a fact he remembered well was being attended by two colored servants sent home from India by his father. He speaks of his life in Nantes as joyous in the extreme. His step-mother, being without any children of her own, humored the child in every whim, and indulged him in every luxury. The future naturalist, who in the recesses of American forests was to live on roots and fruits, and even scantier fare, was indulged with a " carte blanche " on all the confectionery shops in the village where his summer months were passed, and he speaks of the kind- ness of his stepmother as overwhelming. His father had less weakness, and ordered the boy to attend to his education. The elder Audubon had known too many changes of fortune to believe in the fickle goddess ; and notwithstanding his wife's tears and entreaties, determining to educate his son thoroughly, as the safest inheritance he could leave him, he sent the young gentleman straightway to school. Audubon laments that educatior His Early Tears. 15 in France was but miserably attended to during the years that succeeded the great political convulsions. Military education had usurped all the care of the First Empire, and the wants of the civil population were but sparingly heeded. His father, from natural predilections, was desirous that the boy should become a sailor, a cadet in the French navy, or an engineer ; and with these views before him, he decided on the course of study his son should follow. Mathematics, drawing, geography, fencing and music were among the branches of education pre- scribed; it being evident that a complex course of instruction was not among the misapprehensions the old sailor's professional prejudices had nurtured. Audubon had, for music-master, an adept who taught him to play adroitly upon the violin, flute, flageolet, and guitar. For drawing-master, he had David, the chief inventor and worshipper of the abominations which smothered the aspirations of French artists during the revolutionary generation. Nevertheless it was to David that Audubon owed his earliest lessons in tracing objects of natural history. Audubon was, moreover, a proficient in dancing, an accomplishment which in after years he had more opportunities of practising among bears than among men. Influenced by the military fever of his time, he dreamed in his schooldays of being a soldier ; but happily for natural science his adventurous spirit found another outlet. Fortunately his instruction was under the practical guidance of his mother, and large scope was allowed him for indulging in nest-hunting propensities. Supplied with a haversack of provisions, he made frequent excursions into the country, and usually returned loaded with objects of natural history, birds' nests, birds' eggs, specimens of moss, curious stones, and other objects attractive to his eye. When the old sailor returned from sea he was 1 6 Life of Audubon. astonished at the large collection his boy had made, paid him some compliments on his good taste, and asked what progress he had made in his other studies. No satisfac- tory reply being given, he retired without reproach, but, evidently mortified at the idleness of the young naturalist, seemed to turn his attention towards his daughter, whose musical attainments had been successfully cultivated. On the day following the disclosure father and son started for Rochefort, where the elder held some appoint- ment The journey occupied four days, and the pair did not exchange one unnecessary word during the journey. Reaching his official residence, the father explained that he himself would superintend his son's education ; gave the boy liberty for one day to survey the ships of war and the fortifications, and warned him that on the morrow a severe course of study should be commenced. And commence it did accordingly. More than a year was spent in the close study of mathematics ; though whenever opportunity occurred the severer study was neglected for rambles after objects of natural history, and the collection of more specimens. At Nantes, Audubon actually began to draw sketches of French birds, a work he continued with such assiduity that he completed two hundred specimens. His father was desirous that he should join the armies of Napoleon, and win fame by following the French eagles. Warfare, however, had ceased to be a passion of the youth, and he was sent out to America to superintend his father's property. He has recorded in affecting language his regret at leaving behind him the country where he had spent his boyhood, the friends upon whose affections he relied, the associations that had been endeared to him. While the breeze wafted along the great ship, hours were spent in deep sorrow or melancholy musings. His first Visit to America. 17 On landing at New York he caught the yellow fever, by walking to the bank in Greenwich Street to cash his letters of credit Captain John Smith, whose name is gratefully recorded, took compassion on the young emigrant, removed him to Morristown, and placed bin: under the care of two Quaker ladies at a boarding-house, a id to the kindness of these ladies he doubtless owed his .ife. His father's agent, Mr. Fisher, of Philadelphia, knowing his condition, went with his carriage to his lodging, and drove the invalid to his villa, situated at some distance from the city on the road to Trenton. Mr. Fisher was a Quaker, and a strict formalist in religious matters ; did not approve of hunting, and even objected to music. To the adventurous and romantic youth this home was little livelier than a prison, and he gladly escaped from it. Mr. Fisher, at his request, put him in possession of his father's property of Mill Grove, on the Perkiomen Creek ; and from the rental paid by the tenant, a Quaker named William Thomas, the youth found him- self supplied with all the funds he needed. At Mill Grove young Audubon found "a blessed spot." In the regularity of the fences, the straight and military exactness of the avenues, Audubon saw his fa- ther's taste, nay, his very handiwork. The mill attached to the property was to him a daily source of enjoyment, and he was delighted with the repose of the quiet milldam where the pewees were accustomed to build. "Hunting, fishing, and drawing occupied my every moment," he writes ; adding, " cares I knew not, and cared nothing for them." In simple and unaffected language he relates his introduction to his wife, the daughter of William Bake- well, an English gentleman who had purchased .he ad- joining property. Mr. Bakewell lived at Fatland Ford, within sight of Mill Grove, but Audubon had avoided the 1 8 Life of Audubon. family, as English, and objectionable to one who had been nurtured with a hatred towards " perfidious Albion." Tha very name of Englishman was odious to him, he tells us \ and even after his neighbor had called upon him, he was uncivil enough to postpone his advances in return. Mr 5. Thomas, the tenant's wife at Mill Grove, with a woman's desire to see what the issue might be, urged her young mas- ter to visit the Bake well family ; but the more he was urged the more hardened his heart appeared to be against the stranger. The winter's frosts had set in. Audubon was follow- ing some grouse down the creek, when suddenly he came upon Mr. Bakewell, who at once dissipated the French- man's prejudices by the discovery of kindred tastes. Audubon writes : " I was struck with the kind politeness of his manners, and found him a most expert marksman, and entered into conversation. I admired the beauty of his well-trained dogs, and finally promised to call upon him and his family. Well do I recollect the morning, and may it please God may I never forget it, when, for the first time I entered the Bakewell household. It happened that Mr. Bakewell was from home. I was shown into a parlour, where only one young lady was snugly seated at work, with her back turned towards the fire. She rose on my entrance, offered me a seat, and assured me of the gratification her father would feel on his return, which, she added with a smile, would be in a few minutes, as she would send a servant after him. Other ruddy cheeks made their appearance, but like spirits gay, vanished from my sight. Talking and working, the young lady who remained made the time pass pleasantly enough, and to me especially so. It was she, my dear Lucy Bakewell, who afterwards became my wife and the mother of my children." Mr. Bakewell speedily returned, and Lucy attend sd to ^he Bakewell Family. ig the lunch provided before leaving on a shooting expedi- tion. " Lucy rose from her seat a second time, and her form, to which I had before paid little attention, seemed radiant with beauty, and my heart and eyes followed hei i every step. The repast being over, guns and dogs were \ provided, and as we left I was pleased to believe that Lucy looked upon me as a not very strange animal. Bowing to ner, I felt, I knew not why, that I was at least not indif- ferent to her." The acquaintance so pleasantly begun rapidly matured. Audubon and Bakewell were often companions in their shooting excursions, and finally the whole Bakewell family were invited to Mill Grove. The Bakewell's are descendants of the Peverils, great land owners of the northern part of Derbyshire, known as the Peak of Derbyshire, and rendered historical by Sir Walter Scott's novel of "Peveril of the Peak." Miss Peveril married one of the retainers of the Court of William the Norman, by name Count Bassquelle, which name was corrupted into Basskiel, afterwards into Bake- well. From some of the descendants of this marriage the town of Bakewell was founded ; some members removed to Dishley, Leicestershire, one of whom was the grazier and improver of the breed of sheep, another was well known as a geologist The property of Audubon was separated from Bake- well's plantation by a road leading from Norristown to Pawling's Landing, now Pawling's Bridge, or about a quarter of a mile apart; and the result of the friendly relationship established between the two households gave rise to a series of mutual signals, chalked on a board and hung out of the window. The friendship deepened. Lucy Bakewell taught English to Audubon, and received drawing lessons in return. Of course no one failed to predict the result ; but as a love affair is chiefly interest- 2o Life of Audubon. ing to those immediately concerned, we pass on to othei j matters. At Mill Grove Audubon pored over his idea of a great work on American Ornithology, until the thought took some shape in his fervid mind. The work he had prepared for himself to do was an ' Ornithological Biog- raphy,' including an account of the habits and a descrip- I tion of the birds of America ; that work which in its completed form Cuvier pronounced to be "The most gigantic biblical enterprise ever undertaken by a single individual." However, it was only after his drawings and his descriptions accumulated upon him that Audubon de- cided to give the collection the form of a scientific work. Audubon speaks of his life at Mill Grove as being in . every way agreeable. He had ample means for all his j wants, was gay, extravagant, and fond of dress. He rath er naively writes in his journal, " I had no vices ; but was thoughtless, pensive, loving, fond of shooting, fishing, and riding, and had a passion for raising all sorts of fowls, which sources of interest and amusement fully occupied my time. It was one of my fancies to be ridiculously fond of dress; to hunt in black satin breeches, wear pumps when shooting, and dress in the finest ruffled shirts I could obtain from France." He was also fond of danc- ing, and music, and skating, and attended all the balls and skating parties in the neighborhood. Regarding his mode of life, Audubon gives some hints useful to those who desire to strengthen their constitution by an abste- mious diet. He says : " I ate no butcher's meat, lived chiefly on fruits, vegetables, and fish, and never drank a glass of spirits or wine until my wedding day. To this I attribute my continual good health, endurance, and an iron constitution. So strong was the habit, that I disliked going to dinner parties, where people were expected to indulge in eating and drinking, and where often there was 'The Eakewell Family. 21 not a single dish to my taste. I cared nothing for sump- tuous entertainments. Pies, puddings, eggs, and milk oi cream was the food I liked best; and many a time was the dairy of Mrs. Thomas, the tenant's wife of Mill Grove, robbed of the cream intended to make butter for the Philadelphia market. All this while I was fair and rosy, strong as any one of my age and sex could be, and as active and agile as a buck. And why, have I often thought, should I not have kept to this delicious mode of living?" Note here a curious incident in connection with his love of skating and his proficiency as a marksman. Hav- ing been skating down the Perkiomen Creek, he met Miss BakewelPs young brother William, and wagered that he would put a shot through his cap when tossed into the air, while Audubon was passing full speed. The experiment was made, and the cap riddled. A still more striking incident is thus related. " Having engaged in a duck- shooting expedition up the Perkiomen Creek with young Bakewell and some other friends, it was found that the ice was full of dangerous air-holes. On our upward journey it was easy to avoid accident, but the return trip was at- tended with an event which had nearly closed my career. Indeed, my escape was one of the inconceivable miracles that occasionally rescues a doomed man from his fate. The trip was extended too far, and night and darkness had set in long before we reached home. I led the party through the dusk with a white handkerchief made fast to a stick, and we proceeded like a flock of geese going to their feeding ground. Watching for air-holes, I generally avoided them ; but increasing our speed, I suddenly plunged into one, was carried for some distance by the stream under the ice, and stunned and choking I was forced up through another air-hole farther down the stream. I clutched hold of the ice and arrested my downward 11 Life of Audubon, progress, until my companions arrived to help me. My wet clothes had to be changed. One lent me a shirt, another a coat, and so apparelled I resumed my home ward journey. Unable to reach Mill Grove, I was taken to Mr. Bakewell's house chilled and bruised. It was three months before I recovered, notwithstanding the advice of able physicians called in from Philadelphia." The quiet life young Audubon led at Mill Grove was interrupted by an incident in his life which might have proved serious to one owning less energy and hardihood than he possessed. A "partner, tutor, and monitor," one Da Costa, sent from France by the elder Audubon to prosecute the lead mine enterprise at Mill Grove, be- gan to assume an authority over young Audubon which the latter considered unwarranted. An attempt was made to limit his finances, and Da Costa, unfortunately for himself, went further, and objected to the proposed union with Lucy Bakewell, as being an unequal match. Audu- bon resented such interference, and demanded money from Da Costa to carry him to France. The French adventurer suggested a voyage to India, but finally agreed to give Audubon a letter of credit upon an agent named Kanman, in New York. With characteristic earnestness Audubon walked straight off to New York, where he ar- rived in three days, notwithstanding the severity of a midwinter journey. The day following his arrival he call- ed upon Mr. Kanman, who frankly told him he had no money to give him, and further disclosed Da Costa's treachery by hinting that Audubon should be seized and shipped for China. Furious at his treatment, Audubon procured money from a friend, and engaged a passage on board the brig Hope, of New Bedford, bound for Nantes. He left New York, and after considerable delays, surpris *d his parents in their quiet country home CHAPTER II. Re,tult of Auduborts Voyage to France Reneual of Bird-hunttn^ Pursuits Examination for the French Marine, and Appoint' ment to the Post of Midshipman Retitrn to America Chased by a Privateer The Instincts of the Naturalist Goes to New York to acquire a Knowledge of Business Portrait of Himself Returns to Mill Grove Marriage and Journey to Louisville His Settlement there and Pleasant Life Removal of Business to Hendersonville Meeting -with Alexander Wilson, the Ameri- can Ornithologist and Paisley Poet. PLAINING to his father the scandalous conduct of Da Costa, young Audubon prevailed so far that the traitor was removed from the position which he had been placed in with such hasty confidence. He had also to request his father's approval of his marriage with Miss Lucy Bakewell, and the father promised to decide as soon as he had an answer to a letter he had written to Mr. Bakewell in Pennsylvania. Settled in the paternal house for a year, the naturalist gratified in every fashion his wandering instincts. He roamed everywhere in the neigh- borhood of his home, shooting, fishing, and collecting specimens of natural history. He also continued his careful drawings of natural history specimens, and stuffed and prepared many birds and animals an art which he had carefully acquired in America. In one year two hundred drawings of European birds had been completed, a fact which displays marvellous industry, if it does not necessarily imply a sound artistic representation of the birds drawn. At this period the tremendous convulsions of the French empire had culminated in colossal prepa- rations for a conflict with Russia. The conscription 24 Life of Auduhon. threatened every man capable of bearing arms, and An dubon appeared to believe that he stood in some dangei of being enrolled in the general levy. His two brothers were already serving in the armies of Napoleon as offi cers, and it was decided that their junior should volunta- rily join the navy. After passing what he called u a superficial examination " for an appointment as midship- man, he was ordered to report at Rochefort. Entering upon his duties in the French marine, he was destined to make at least one short cruise in the service of France. Before entering the service he had made the acquaintance of a young man named Ferdinand Rosier, to whom he had made some proposal of going to America. On the return of the vessel in which he acted, it was proposed that he and Rosier should leave for America as partners, under a nine years' engagement. The elder Audubon obtained leave of absence for his son ; and after pass- ports were provided, the two emigrants left France at a period when thousands would have been glad of liberty to follow their footsteps. About two weeks after leaving France, a vessel gave chase to the French vessel, passed her by to windward, fired a shot across her bows, and continued the chase until the captain of the outward bound was forced to heave his ship to, and submit to be boarded by a boat. The enemy proved to be the English privateer, Rattlesnake, the captain of which was sadly vexed to find that his prey was an American vessel, carrying proper papers, and fly- ing the stars and stripes. Unable to detain the vessel, the privateer's crew determined at least to rob the pas- sengers. " They took pigs and sheep," writes Audubon, " and carried away two of our best sailors, in spite of the remonstrances of the captain, and of a member of the United States Congress, who was a passenger on board, and was accompanied by an amiable daughter. The Adventure with a Privateer. 25 Rattlesnake kept us under her lee, and almost within pistol-shot for a day and a night, ransacking the ship for money, of which we had a great deal in the run under the ballast, which they partially removed, but did not go deep enough to reach the treasure. The gold belonging to Rosier and myself I put away in a woolen stocking under the ship's cable in the bows of the ship, where it remain- ed safe until the privateers had departed. Arriving within thirty miles of Sandy Hook, a fishing-smack was spoken, which reported that two British frigates lay off the entrance, and had fired on an American ship ; that they were impressing American seamen, and that, in fact, they were even more dangerous to meet than the pirates who sailed under " a letter of marque." The captain, warned of one danger, ran into another. He took his vessel through Long Island Sound, and ran it upon a spit in a gale. But finally floated it off, and reached New York in safety. From the introductory address in the first volume of Audubon's 'Ornithological Biography,' published at Ed- inburgh, in 1834, many passages may be cited as an exposition of the high aspirations which stimulated the young naturalist to his task. These passages may be di- vided into scientific and artistic. Belonging to the first category are constant references to that thirst for accu- rate and complete knowledge regarding wild animals, and especially birds, their habits, forms, nests, eggs, progeny, places of breeding, and all that concerned them. But, after all, Audubon was not at heart a man of science. He gathered much, and speculated little, and was more a backwoodsman than a philosopher. In his rough great way he did good service, but his great physical energy, not his mental resources, was the secret of his success. His crude artistic instincts inspired him with the desire to represent, by the aid of pencil, crayon, or paint, the 2 2.6 Life jf ' Audukon. form, plumage, attitude, and characteristic marks of his feathered favourites. In working towards this end, he labored to produce life-like pictures, and frequently with wonderful success. Strongly impressed with the difficul- ties of representing in any perfect degree the living image of the birds he drew, he labored arduously at what we may call forcible photographs in colours, his first aim being fidelity, and his next, artistic beauty. How much chagrin his failures cost him may be gleaned from the lamentations he makes over his unsuccessful efforts in the introductory address referred to above. Regarding the means he adopted to secure a faultless representation of the animals he desired to transcribe, he writes : " Pa- tiently and with industry did I apply myself to study, foi although I felt the impossibility of giving life to my pro- ductions, I did not abandon the idea of representing nature. Many plans were successively adopted, "many masters guided my hand. At the age of seventeen, when I returned from France, whither I had gone to receive the rudiments of my education, my drawings had assumed a form. David had guided my hand in tracing objects of large size : eyes and noses belonging to giants and heads of horses, represented in ancient sculpture, were my mod- els. These, although fit subjects for men intent on pur- suing the higher branches of art, were immediately laid aside by me. I returned to the woods of the n \v world with fresh ardour, and commenced a collection of draw- ings, which I henceforth continued, and which is now publishing under the title of ' The Birds of America.' " To resume the narrative of Audubon's journey back to Mill Grove. Da Costa was dismissed from his situa- tion, and Audubon remained his own master. Mr. William Bakewell, the brother of Lucy, has recorded some interesting particulars of a visit to Mill Grove at this period. He says : " Audubon took me to his house His Accomplishments. 27 where he and his companion Rosier resided, with Mrs. Thomas for an attendant. On entering his room, I was astonished and delighted to find that it was turned into a museum. The walls were festooned with all sorts of birds' eggs, carefully blown out and strung on a thread. The chimney-piece was covered with stuffed squirrels, racoons, and opossums ; and the shelves around were likewise crowded with specimens, among which were fishes, frogs, snakes, lizards, and other reptiles. Besides these stuffed varieties, many paintings were arrayed upon the walls, chiefly of birds. He had great skill in stuffing and preserving animals of all sorts. He had also a trick of training dogs with great perfection, of which art his famous dog Zephyr was a wonderful example. He was an admirable marksman, an expert swimmer, a clever rider, possessed great activity, prodigious strength, and was notable for the elegance of his figure and the beauty of his features, and he aided nature by a careful attend- ance to his dress. Besides other accomplishments, he was musical, a good fencer, danced well, had some ac- quaintance with legerdemain tricks, worked in hah-, and could plait willow-baskets." He adds further, that Audubon once swam across the Schuylkill river witt him on his back, no contemptible feat for a young ath- lete. The naturalist was evidently a nonpareil in the eyes of his neighbors, and of those who were intimate enough to know his manifold tastes. But love began to interfere a little with the gratification of these Bohemian instincts. On expressing his desire of uniting himself to Miss Bakewell, Audubon was advised by Mr. Bakewell to ob- tain some knowledge of commercial pursuits before get- ting married. With this intention, Audubon started for New York, entered the counting-house of Mr. Benjamin Bakewell, and made rapid progress in his education b\ 28 Life of Audubon. losing some hundreds of pounds by a bad speculator ir indigo. The leading work done by the imprisoned naturalist was, as usual, wandering in search of birds and natural curiosities. While so engaged he made the acquaintance of Dr. Samuel Mitchel, one of the leading medical men in New York city, and distinguished as an ethnologist. Dr. Mitchel was one of the founders of the Lyceum of Natural History, and of the ' Medical Repository,' which was the first scientific journal started in the United States. Audubon prepared many specimens for this gentleman, which he believed were finally deposited in the New York Museum. After a season of probation, during which Mr. Bakewell became convinced of the impossibility of tutor- ing Audubon into mercantile habits, the naturalist gladly returned to Mill Grove. Rosier, who had likewise been recommended to attempt commerce, lost a considerable sum in an unfortunate speculation, and eventually return- ed to Mill Grove with his friend. Audubon remarks that at this period it took him but a few minutes, walking smartly, to pass from one end of New York to another, so sparse was the population at the date of his residence. He adds, in reference to his absent habits and unsuitability for business, that he at one time posted without sealing it a letter containing 8000 dollars. His natural history pursuits in New York occasioned a disagreeable^flavor from his rooms, occa- sioned by drying birds' skins ; and was productive of so much annoyance to his neighbours, that they forwarded a message to him through a constable, insisting on his abat- ing the nuisance. An excellent pen and ink sketch of his own appearance at this time has been left by Audu- bon. He says : " I measured five feet ten and a half inches, was of a fair mien, and quite a handsome figure ; large, dark, and rather sunken eyes, light-coloured eye Portrait of Himself. 29 brows, aquiline nose, and a fine set of teeth ; hair, fine texture and luxuriant, divided and passing down behind each ear in luxuriant ringlets as far as the shoulders." There appears excellent reason to believe that Audubon quite appreciated his youthful graces, and, with the nat- veti of a simple nature, was not ashamed to record them. After returning to Mill Grove, Audubon and his friend Rosier planned an expedition towards the west, at that time a wild region thinly populated by a very strange people. The journey of Audubon and Rosier to Kentucky had for its purpose the discovery of some outlet for the naturalist's energies, in the shape of a settled investment, which would permit of his marriage to Miss Bakewell. In Louisville Audubon determined to remain, and with this purpose in view he sold his plantation of Mill Grove, invested his capital in goods, and prepared to start for the west. His arrangements being Complete, he was married to Miss Bakewell on the 8th of April, 1808, in her father's residence at Fatland Ford. Journeying by Pittsburg the wedded pair reached Louisville with their goods in safety. From Pittsburg they sailed down the Ohio in a flat-bottomed float called an ark, and which proved to be an exceedingly tedious and primitive mode of travelling. This river voyage occupied twelve days, and must have given the naturalist wonderful opportuni- ties of making observations. At Louisville he com- menced trade under favorable auspices, but the hunting of birds continued to be the ruling passion. His life at this period, in the company of his young wife, appears to have been extremely happy, and he writes that he had really reason " to care for nothing." The country around Louisville was settled by planters who were fond of hunt- ing, and among whom he found a ready welcome. The shooting and drawing of birds was continued. His jo Life of Auduhon. friend Rosier, less fond of rural sports, stuck to the counter, and, as Audubon phrases it, " grew rich, and that was all he cared for." Audubon's pursuits appear to have severed him from the business, which was left to Rosier's management. Finally the war of 1812 imperilled the prosperity of the partners, and what goods remained on hand were shipped to Hendersonville, Kentucky, where Rosier remained for some years longer, before going further westward in search of the fortune he coveted. Writing of the kindness shown him by his friends at Louisville, Audubon relates that when he was absent on business, or " away on expeditions," his wife was invited to stay at General Clark's, and was taken care of till he returned. It was at Louisville that Audubon made the acquain- tance of Wilson, the American ornithologist Wilson, a Scottish weaver, had been driven from Paisley through his sympathies with the political agitators of that notable Scottish town ; and finding a refuge in the United States, had turned his attention to ornithology. From the pages of Audubon's ' Ornithological Biography' it may be inter- esting to reproduce an account of the meeting between the two naturalists. " One fair morning," writes Audu- bon, " I was surprised by the sudden entrance into our counting-room at Louisville of Mr. Alexander Wilson, the celebrated author of the ' American Ornithology,' of whose existence I had never until that moment been apprised. This happened in March, 1810. How well do I remember him, as he then walked up to me ! His long, rather hooked nose, the keenness of his eyes, and his prominent cheekbones, stamped his countenance with a peculiar character. His dress, too, was of a kind not usually seen in that part of the country ; a short coat trousers, and a waistcoat of gray cloth. His stature was not above the middle size. He had two volumes undei Wilson, the Ornithologist. 31 his arm, and as he approached the table at which I was working, I thought I discovered something like astonish ment in his countenance. He, however, immediately proceeded to disclose the object of his visit, which was to procure subscriptions for his work. He opened his books, explained the nature of his occupations, and requested my patronage. I felt surprised and gratified at the sight of his volumes, turned over a few of the plates, and had already taken a pen to write my name in his favor, when my partner rather abruptly said to me, in French, ' My dear Audubon, what induces you to subscribe to this work ? Your drawings are certainly far better ; and again, you must know as much of the habits of American birds as this gentleman.' Whether Mr. Wilson under- stood French or not, or if the suddenness with which I paused, disappointed him, I cannot tell ; but I clearly perceived that he was not pleased. Vanity and the encomiums of my friend prevented me from subscribing. Mr. Wilson asked me if I had many drawings of birds. I rose, took down a large portfolio, laid it on the table, and showed him, as I would show you, kind reader, or any other person fond of such subjects, the whole of the contents, with the same patience with which he had shown me his own engravings. His surprise appeared great, as he told me he never had the most distant idea that any other individual than himself had been engaged in forming such a collection. He asked me if it was my intention to publish, and when I answered in the negative, his surprise seemed to increase. And, truly, such was not my intention ; for, until long after, when I met the Prince of Musignano in Philadelphia, I had not the least idea of presenting the fruits of my labors to the world. Mr. Wilson now examined my drawings with care, asked if I should have any objections to lending him a Few during his stay, to which I replied that I had 32 Life of Auduhon. none. He then bade me good-morning, not, however, until I had made an arrangement to explore the woods in the vicinity along with him, and had promised to procure for him some birds, of which I had drawings in my collection, but which he had never seen. It happened that he lodged in the same house with us, but his retired habits, I thought, exhibited either a strong feeling of discontent or a decided melancholy. The Scotch airs which he played sweetly on his flute made me melancholy .00, and I felt for him. I presented him to my wife and friends, and seeing that he was all enthusiasm, exerted myself as much as was in my power to procure for him the specimens which he wanted. We hunted together, and obtained birds which he had never before seen ; but, reader, I did not subscribe to his work, for, even at that time, my collection was greater than his. Thinking that perhaps he might be pleased to publish the results of my researches, I offered them to him, merely on condition that what I had drawn, or might afterwards draw and send to him, should be mentioned in his work as coming from my pencil. I at the same time offered to open a corres- pondence with him, which I thought might prove beneficial to us both. He made no reply to either proposal, and before many days had elapsed, left Louisville, on his way to New Orleans, little knowing how much his talents were appreciated in our little town^ at least by myself and my friends. " Some time elapsed, during which I never heard of him, or his work. At length, having occasion to go to Philadelphia, I, immediately after my arrival there, inquired for him, and paid him a visit. He was then drawing a white-headed eagle. He received me with civility, and took me to the exhibition rooms of Rem- brandt Peale, the artist, who had then portrayed Napoleon crossing the Alps. Mr. Wilson spoke not of birds 01 Wilson^ the Ornithologist. 33 drawings. Feeling, as I was forced to do, that my com- pany was not agreeable, I parted from him ; and after that I never saw him again. But judge of my astonish- ment some time after, when on reading the thirty-ninth page, of the ninth volume of ' American Ornithology,' I found in it the following paragraph : "'March 23, 1810. I bade adieu to Louisville, to which place I had four letters of recommendation, and was taught to expect much of everything there; but neither received one act of civility from those to whom I was recommended, one subscriber, nor one new bird ; though I delivered my letters, ransacked the woods repeatedly, and visited all the characters likely to subscribe. Science or literature has not one friend in this place.' " CHAPTER III. Return of Mrs. Audubon to her Father's House Audubon and Rosier move to Hendersonville Business Unremunerative Determine to try St. Genevieve on the Mississippi Wild Swan shooting -with Indians A Bear Hunt, and Valiant Indian Arrival at St Genevieve. Louisville it was discovered that business was suffering from over-competition, and no further time was to be lost in transferring the stock to Hendersonville. Before leaving Louisville to take up his residence at Hendersonville, farther down the Ohio river, Audubon took his wife and young son back to her father's house at Fatland Ford, where they resided for a year. Audubon and his partner Rosier arranged their migration with the remaining stock, and entered upon their voyage of one hundred and twenty miles down the Ohio to Hendersonville. Arriving at this place, they found the neighborhood thinly inhabited, and the demand for goods almost limited to the coarsest materials. The merchants were driven to live upon the produce of their guns and fishing-rods. The clerk employed for the firm had even to assist in supplying the table, and while he did so Rosier attended to the business. The profits on any business done was enormous, but the sales were so trifling that another change was determined on. It was proposed that the stock in hand should be removed to St. Genevieve, a settlement on the Mississippi river, and until it was ascertained how the enterprise would prosper, Mrs. Adventurous Travel. 35 Audubon should be left at Hendersonville, with the family of Dr. Rankin, who resided in the immediate neighboihood. Of the adventurous voyage to St. Gene- vieve, Audubon gives this graphic account : " Putting our goods, which consisted of three hundred barrels of whiskey, sundry drygoods, and powder, on board a keel-boat, my partner, my clerk, and self departed in a severe snow-storm. The boat was new, staunch, and well trimmed, and had a cabin inkier bow. A long steer- ing oar, made of the trunk of a slender tree, about sixty feet in length, and shaped at its outer extremity like the fin of a dolphin, helped to steer the boat, while the four oars from the bow impelled her along, when going with the current, about five miles an hour. " The storm we set out in continued, and soon cov- ered the ground with a wintry sheet. Our first night on board was dismal indeed, but the dawn brought us oppo- site the mouth of the Cumberland River. It was evident that the severe cold had frozen all the neighboring lakes and lagoons, because thousands of wild water-fowl were flying to the river, and settling themselves on its borders. We permitted our boat to drift past, and amused our- selves by firing into flocks of birds. " The third day we entered Cash Creek, a very small stream, but having deep water and a good harbour. Here I met Count De Munn, who was also in a boat like ours, and bound also for Sfc. Genevieve. Here we learned that the Mississippi was covered with floating ice of a thickness dangerous to the safety of our craft, and indeed that it was impossible to ascend the river against it. " The creek was full of water, was crowded with wild birds, and was plentifully supplied with fish. The large sycamores, and the bare branches of the trees that fringed the creek, were favorite resorts of paroquets, which came at night to roost in their hollow trunks. An j6 Life of A uduhon. agreeable circumstance was an encampment of about fifty families of Shawnee Indians, attracted to the spot by the mast of the forest, which brought together herds of deer, and many bears and racoons. " Mr. Rosier, whose only desire was to reach the des- tination and resume trade, was seized with melancholy at the prospect occasioned by the delay. He brooded in silence over a mishap which had given me great occasion for rejoicing." A narrative of Audubon's stay at Cash Creek, and perilous journey up the Mississippi, is picturesquely given in his journal, and from which the following is extracted : " The second morning after our arrival at Cash Creek, while I was straining my eyes to discover whether it was fairly day dawn or no, I heard a movement in the Indian camp, and discovered that a canoe, with half a dozen squaws and as many hunters, was about leaving for Ten- nessee. I had heard that there was a large lake oppo- site to us, where immense flocks of swans resorted every morning, and asking permission to join them, I seated myself on my haunches in the canoe, well provided with ammunition and a bottle of whiskey, and in a few minutes the paddles were at work, swiftly propelling us to the opposite shore. I was not much surprised to see the boat paddled by the squaws, but I was quite so to see the hunters stretch themselves ont and go to sleep. On landing, the squaws took charge of the canoe, secured it, and went in search of nuts, while we gentlemen hunters made the best of our way through thick and thin to the lake. Its muddy shores were overgrown with a close growth of cotton trees, too large to be pushed aside, and too thick to pass through except by squeezing yourself at every few steps ; and to add to the difficulty, every few rods we came to small nasty lagoons, which one must jump, leap, Wild Swan Shooting. 37 or swim, and this not without peril of broken limbs o drowning. " But when the lake burst on our view there were the swans by hundreds, and white as rich cream, either dip- ping their black bills in the water, or stretching out one leg on its surface, or gently floating along. According to the Indian mode of hunting, we had divided, and approached the lagoon from different sides. The mo- ment our vedette was seen, it seemed as if thousands of large, fat, and heavy swans were startled, and as they made away from him they drew towards the ambush of death ; for the trees had hunters behind them, whose touch of the trigger would carry destruction among them. As the first party fired, the game rose and flew within easy distance of the party on the opposite side, when they again fi^ed, and I saw the water covered with birds floating with their backs downwards, and their heads sunk in the water, and their legs kicking in the air. When the sport was over we counted more than fifty of these beautiful birds, whose skins were intended for the ladies in Europe. There were plenty of geese and ducks, but no one condescended to give them a shot. A conch was sounded, and after a while the squaws came dragging the canoe, and collecting the dead game, which was taken to the river's edge, fastened to the canoe, and before dusk we were again landed at our camping ground. I had heard of sportsmen in England who walked a whole day, and after firing a pound of powder returned in great glee, bringing one partridge ; and I could not help won- dering what they would think of the spoil we were bear- ing from Swan Lake. " The fires were soon lighted, and a soup of pecan nuts and bear fat made and eaten. The hunters stretched themselves with their feet close to the camp-fires, intended to burn all night. The squaws then began to skin the 3 8 Life of Audubon. birds, and I retired, very well satisfied with my Christma? sport " When I awoke in the morning and made my rounds through the camp, I found a squaw had been delivered of beautiful twins during the night, and I saw the same squaw at work tanning deer-skins. She had cut two vines at the roots of opposite trees, and made a cradle of bark, in which the new-born ones were wafted to and fro with a push of her hand, while from time to time she gave them the breast, and was apparently as unconcerned as j if the event had not taken place. " An Indian camp on a hunting expedition is by no means a place of idleness, and although the men do little more than hunt, they perform their task with an industry which borders on enthusiasm. I was invited by three hunters to a bear hunt. A tall, robust, well-shaped fel- low assured me that we should have some sport that day, for he had discovered the haunt of one of large size, and he wanted to meet him face to face; and we four started to see how he would fulfill his boast. About half a mile from the camp he said he perceived his tracks, though I could see nothing ; and we rambled on through the cane brake until we came to an immense decayed log, in which he swore the bear was. I saw his eye sparkle with joy, his rusty blanket was thrown off his shoulders, his brawny arms swelled with blood, as he ! drew his scalping-knife from his belt with a flourish which showed that fighting was his delight. He told me to mount a small sapling, because a bear cannot climb one, while it can go up a large tree with the nimbleness of a squirrel. The two other Indians seated themselves at the entrance, and the hero went in boldly. All was silent for a few moments, when he came out and said the bear was dead, and 1 might come down. The Indians cut a long vine, went into the hollow tree, fastened it tc A Bear-Hunt. 30 the animal, and with their united force dragged it out f really thought that this was an exploit. Since then I have seen many Indian exploits, which proved to me their heroism. " In Europe or America the white hunter would have taken his game home and talked about it for weeks, but these simple people only took off the animal's skin, hung the flesh in quarters on the trees, and continued their hunt. Unable to follow them, I returned to the camp, accompanied by one Indian, who broke the twigs of the bushes we passed, and sent back two squaws on the track, who brought the flesh and skin of the bear to the camp. "At length the nuts were nearly all gathered, and the game grew scarce, and the hunters remained most of the day in camp ; and they soon made up their packs, broke up their abodes, put all on board their canoes, and paddled off down the Mississippi for the little prairie on the Arkansas. "Their example made a stir among the whites, and my impatient partner begged me to cross the bend and see if the ice was yet too solid for us to ascend the river. Accordingly, accompanied by two of the crew, I made my way to the Mississippi. The weather was milder, and the ice so sunk as to be scarcely perceptible, and I pushed up the shore to a point opposite Cape Girardeau. We hailed the people on the opposite bank, and a robust yellow man came across, named Loume. He stated that he was a son of the Spanish governor of Louisiana, and a good pilot on the river, and would take our boat up provided we had four good hands, as he had six. A bargain was soon struck ; their canoe hauled into the woods, some blazes struck on the trees, and all started for Cash Creek. " The night was spent in making tugs of hides and 40 Life of Auduhon. shaving oars, and at daylight we left the Creek, glad tc be afloat once more in broader water. Going down the stream to the mouth of the Ohio was fine sport ; indeed my partner considered the worst of the journey over , out, alas ! when we turned the point, and met the mighty rush of the Mississippi, running three miles an hour, and bringing shoals of ice to further impede our progress, he looked on despairingly. The patron ordered the lines ashore, and it became the duty of every man ' to haul the cordella,' which was a rope fastened to the bow of the boat ; and one man being left on board to steer, the oth- ers, laying the rope over their shoulders, slowly warped the heavy boat and cargo against the current. We made seven miles that day up the famous river. But while I was tugging with my back at the cordella, I kept my eyes fixed on the forests or the ground, looking for birds and curious shells. At night we camped on the shores. Here we made fires, cooked supper, and setting one sentinel, the rest went to bed and slept like men who had done one good day's work. I slept myself as unconcerned as if I had been in my own father's house. "The next day I was up early, and roused my part- ner two hours before sunrise, and we began to move the boat at about one mile an hour against the current. We had a sail on board, but the wind was ahead, and we made ten miles that day. We made our fires, and I lay down to sleep again in my buffalo robes. Two more days of similar toil followed, when the weather became severe, and our patron ordered us to go into winter quarters, in the great bend of the Tawapatee Bottom. " The sorrows of my partner at this dismal event were too great to be described. Wrapped in his blanket, like a squirrel in "winter quarters with his tail about his nose, he slept and dreamed away his time, being seldom seec except at meals. Osage Indians. 41 " There was not a white man's cabin within twent) miles, and that over a river we could not cross. We cui down trees and made a winter camp. But a new field was opened to me, and I rambled through the deep for- ests, and soon became acquainted with the Indian trails and the lakes in the neighborhood. " The Indians have the instinct or sagacity to discover an encampment of white men almost as quickly as vul- tures sight the carcass of a dead animal ; and I was not long in meeting strolling natives in the woods. They gradually accumulated, and before a week had passed great numbers of these unfortunate beings were around us, chiefly Osages and Shawnees. The former were well- formed, athletic, and robust men, of a noble aspect, and kept aloof from the others. They hunted nothing but large game, and the few elks and buffaloes that remained in the country. The latter had been more in contact with the whites, were much inferior, and killed opossum and wild turkeys for a subsistence. The Osages being a new race to me, I went often to their camp, to study their character and habits ; but found much difficulty in be- coming acquainted with them. They spoke no French, and only a few words of English, and their general de- meanor proved them to be a nobler race. They were delighted to see me draw, and when I made a tolerable likeness of one of them with red chalk, they cried out with astonishment, and laughed excessively. They stood the cold much better than the Shawnees, and were much more expert with bows and arrows. " The bones we threw around our camp attracted ma- ny wolves, and afforded us much sport in hunting them. Here I passed six weeks pleasantly, investigating the habits of wild deer, bears, cougars, racoons, and turkeys, and many other animals, and I drew more or less by the side of our great camp-fire every day ; and no one can 42 Life of Audubon. have an idea of what a good fire is who has never seen a camp-fire in the woods of America. Imagine four or five ash-trees, three feet in diameter and sixty feet long, cut and piled up, with all their limbs and branches, ten feet high, and then a fire kindled on the top with brush and dry leaves ; and then under the smoke the party lies down and goes to sleep. " Here our bread gave out ; and after using the breast of wild turkeys for bread, and bear's grease for *butter, and eating opossum and bear's meat until our stomachs revolted, it was decided that a Kentuckian named Pope, our clerk, and a good woodsman, should go with me to the nearest settlement and try and bring some Indian meal. On the way we saw a herd of deer, and turned aside to shoot one ; and having done so, and marked the place, we continued our journey. We walked until dusk, and no river appeared. Just then I noticed an Indian trail, which we supposed led to the river ; and after fol- lowing it a short distance, entered the camp we had left in the morning. My partner, finding that we had no wheaten loaves in our hands, and no bags of meal on our backs, said we were boobies ; the boatmen laughed, the Indians joined the chorus, and we ate some cold racoon, and stumbled into our buffalo robes, and were soon enjoy- ing our sleep. " The next day we tried it again, going directly across the bend, suffering neither the flocks of turkeys nor the droves of deer we saw to turn us aside until we had Cape Girardeau in full sight an hour before the setting of the sun. The ice was running swiftly in the river, and we hailed in vain, for no small boat dare put out. An old abandoned log-house stood on our bank, and we took lodgings there for the night ; we made a little fire, ate a little dried bear's meat we had brought, and slept comfort- ably. Winter Experiences 43 "What a different life from the one I am leading nowj and that night I wrote in my journal exactly as I do now; and I recollect well that I gathered more information that evening respecting the roasting of prairie-hens than I had ever done before or since. Daylight returned fair and frosty, the trees covered with snow and icicles, shining like jewels as the sun rose on them; and the wild turkeys seemed so dazzled by their brilliancy, that they allowed us to pass under them without flying. " After a time we saw a canoe picking its way through the running ice. Through the messenger who came in the boat, we obtained after waiting nearly all day, a barrel of flour, several bags of Indian meal, and a few loaves of bread. Having rolled the flour to a safe place, slung the meal in a tree, and thrust our gun barrels through the loaves of bread, we started for our camp, and reached it not long after midnight. Four men were sent the next morning with axes to make a sledge, and drag the provi- sions over the snow to the camp. " The river, which had been constantly slowly rising, now began to fall, and prepared new troubles for us ; for as the water fell the ice clung to the shore, and we were forced to keep the boat afloat to unload the cargo. This, with the help of all the Indian men and women, took two days. We then cut large trees, and fastened them to the shore above the boat, so as to secure it from the ice which was accumulating, and to save the boat from being cut by it. We were now indeed in winter quarters, and we made the best of it The Indians made baskets of cane, Mr. Pope played on the violin, I accompanied with the flute, the men danced to the tunes, and the squaws looked on and laughed, and the hunters smoked their pipes with such serenity as only Indians can, and I never regretted one day spent there. " While our tune went pleasantly enough, a sudder 44 Life of Audubon. and startling catastrophe threatened us without warning The ice began to break, and our boat was in instant dan ger of being cut to pieces by the ice-floes, or swamped by their pressure. Roused from our sleep, we rushed down pell-mell to the bank, as if attacked by savages, and discovered the ice was breaking up rapidly. It split with reports like those of heavy artillery; and as the water had suddenly risen from an overflow of the Ohio, the two streams seemed to rush against each other with violence, in consequence of which the congealed mass was broken into large fragments, some of which rose nearly erect here and there, and again fell with thundering crash, as the wounded whale, when in the agonies of death, springs up with furious force, and again plunges into the foaming waters. To our surprise, the weather, which in the evening had been calm and frosty, had become wet and blowy. The water gushed from the fissures formed in the ice, and the prospect was ex- tremely dismal. When day dawned, a spectacle strange and fearful presented itself : the whole mass of water was violently agitated ; its covering was broken into small fragments, and although not a foot of space was without ice, not a step could the most daring have ventured to make upon it. Our boat was in imminent danger, for the trees which had been placed to guard it from the ice were cut or broken into pieces, and were thrust against her. It was impossible to move her; but our pilot ordered every man to bring down great bunches of cane, which were lashed along her sides ; and before these were destroyed by the ice, she was afloat, and riding above it. While we were gazing on the scene, a tremendous crash was heard, which seemed to have taken place about a mile below, when suddenly the great dam of ice gave way. The current of the Mississippi had forced its way against that of the Ohio ; and in less than four hours w witnessed the complete breaking up of the ice. St. Genevieve. 4j " During that winter the ice was so thick, the patron said we might venture to start. The cargo was soon on board, and the camp given up to the Indians, after bid- ding mutual adieus, as when brothers part. The naviga- tion was now of the most dangerous kind ; the boat was pushed by long poles on the ice, and against the bottom when it could be touched, and we moved extremely slowly. The ice was higher than our heads, and I fre- quently thought that if a sudden thaw should take place we should be in great peril ; but fortunately all this was escaped, and we reached safely the famous cape. " But the village was small, and no market for us, and we determined to push up to St. Genevieve, and once more were in motion between the ice. We arrived in a few days at the grand tower, where an immense rock in the stream makes the navigation dangerous. Here we used our cordellas, and with great difficulty and peril passed it safely. It was near this famous tower of granite that I first saw the great eagle that I have named after our good and great General Washington. The weather continued favorable, and we arrived in safety at St. Gene- vieve, and found a favorable market. Our whiskey was especially welcome, and what we had paid twenty-five cents a gallon for, brought us two dollars. St. Gene- vieve was then an old French town, twenty miles below St. Louis, not so large, as dirty, and I was not half so pleased with the time spent there as with that spent in the Tawapatee Bottom. Here I met with the Frenchman who accompanied Lewis and Clark to the Rocky Moun- tains. They had just returned, and I was delighted to learn from them many particulars of their interesting journey." CHAPTER IV. Audubon finds Genevieve unsuitable Return Journey to Henderson ville Terrible Adventure on the Prairie Narrow Escape from Assassination The Shooting of Mason Earthquakes in Ken- tucky A Frantic Doctor Audubon Suffers from new Misfor- tunes Seventeen Thousand Dollars lost Starts in Business at Hendersonville, and Succeeds Erection of a Mill and Renewed Misfortunes Commences to draw Portraits Engagement at Cincinnati Museum. flUDUBON soon discovered that Genevieve was no pleasant place to live in. Its population were mostly low-bred French Canadians, for whose company, notwithstanding certain national sym- pathies, he had no liking. He wearied to be back at Hendersonville beside his young wife. Rosier got mar- ried at Genevieve, and to him Audubon sold his interest in the business. The naturalist purchased a horse, bade adieu to his partner, to the society of Genevieve, and started homeward across the country. During this jour- ney Audubon met with a terrible adventure, and made a miraculous escape from impending death. This episode in Audubon's life is related by him in the following words : " On my return from the upper Mississippi, I found myself obliged to cross one of the wild prairies, which, in that portion of the United States, vary the appearance of the country. The weather was fine, all around me was as fresh and blooming as if it had just issued from the bosom of nature. My 'knapsack, my gun, and my dog were all I had for baggage and company. But, Adventure on the Prair'.e. 47 although well moccasined, I moved slowly along, attracted by the brilliancy of the flowers, and the gambols of the fawns around their dams, to all appearance as thoughtless of danger as I felt myself. " My march was of long duration. I saw the sun sinking beneath the horizon long before I could perceive any appearance of woodlands, and nothing in the shape of man had I met with that day. The track which I fol- lowed was only an old Indian trail, and as darkness overshadowed the prairie, I felt some desire to reach at least a copse, in which I might lie down to rest. The night-hawks were skimming over and around me, attracted by the buzzing wings of the beetles which form their food, and the distant howling of the wolves gave me some hope that I should soon arrive at the skirts of some woodland. " I did so, and almost at the same instant a fire-light attracting my eye, I moved towards it, full of confidence that it proceeded from the camp of some wandering Indians. I was mistaken. I discovered by its glare that it was from the hearth of a small log cabin, and that a tall figure passed and repassed between it and me, as if busily engaged in household arrangements. " I reached the spot, and presenting myself at the door, asked the tall figure, which proved to be a woman, if I might take shelter under her roof for the night ? Her voice was gruff, and her dress negligently thrown about her. She answered in the affirmative. I walked in, took a wooden stool, and quietly seated myself by the fire. The next object that attracted my notice was a finely formed young Indian, resting his head between his hands, with his elbows on his knees. A long bow rested against the log wall near him, while a quantity of arrows and two or three racoon skins lay at his feet. He moved not ; he apparently breathed not. Accustomed to the habits 48 Life of Auduhon. of the Indians, and knowing that they pay little attention to the approach of civilized strangers, I addressed him in French, a language not unfrequently partially known t