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THE BEACON BIOGRAPHIES

EDITED BY

M. A. DEWOLFE HOWE

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

BY

JOHN BURROUGHS

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PUBLISHED BY_

BOSTON

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

BY

JOHN BURROUGHS

BOSTON
SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY
mpccccll

Copyright, 1902

By Small, Maynard &§ Company
(Incorporated)

Entered at Stationers Hall

Mann

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697

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Press of
Geo. H. Ellis Co., Boston

The photogravure used as a frontispiece
to this volume is from an original painting
by George P. A. Healy, London, 1838,
now owned by the Boston Society of Natural
History, Boston, to whom it was presented
by the heirs of Josiah Bradlee. The pres-
ent engraving is by John Andrew & Son,
Boston.

TO C. B.

PREFACE.

The pioneer in American ornithology
was Alexander Wilson, a Scotch weaver
and poet, who emigrated to this country in
1794, and began the publication of his
great work upon our birds in 1808. He
Jigured and described three hundred and
twenty species, fifty-six of them new to
science. His death occurred in 1818, be-
Fore the publication of his work had been
completed.

' But the chief of American ornithologists
was John James Audubon. Audubon did
not begin where Wilson left off. He was
also a pioneer, beginning his studies and
drawings of the birds probably as early as
Wilson did his, but he planned larger and
lived longer. He spent the greater part of
his long life in the pursuit of ornithology,
and was of a more versatile, flexible, and
artistic nature than was Wilson. He was
collecting the material for his work at the
same time that Wilson was collecting his,

x PREFACE
but he did not begin the publication of it till
fourteen years after Wilson’s death. Both
men went directly to Nature and underwent
incredible hardships in exploring the woods
and marshes in quest of their material.
Audubon’s rambles were much wider, and
extended over a much longer period of time.
Wilson, too, contemplated a work upon our
quadrupeds, but did not live to begin it.
Audubon was blessed with good health,
length of years, a devoted and self-sacrifie-
ing wife, and a buoyant, sanguine, and
elastic disposition. He had the heavenly
gift of enthusiasm — a passionate love for
the work he set out to do. He was a
natural hunter, roamer, woodsman ; as un-
worldly as a child, and as simple and trans-
parent. We have had better trained and
more scientific ornithologists since his day,
but none with his abandon and poetic fervour
in the study of our birds.

Both men were famous pedestrians and
often walked hundreds of miles at a stretch.
They were natural explorers and voyagers.

PREFACE xi

They loved Nature at first hand, and not
merely as she appears in books and pictures.
They both kept extensive journals of their
wanderings and observations. Several of
Audubon’ s (recording his European experi-
ences) seem to have been lost or destroyed,
but what remain make up the greater part
of two large volumes recently edited by his
grand-daughter, Maria R. Audubon.

I wish here to express my gratitude both
to Miss Audubon, and to Messrs. Charles
Scribner's Sons, for permitting me to draw
Freely from the “ Life and Journals’? just
mentioned. The temptation is strong to let
Audubon’ s graphic and glowing descriptions
of American scenery, and of his tireless
wanderings, speak for themselves.

It is from these volumes, and from the
life by his widow, published in 1868, that I
have gathered the material for this brief
biography.

Audubon’s life naturally divides itself
into three periods: his youth, which was on
the whole a gay and happy one, and which

xii PREFACE

lasted till the time of his marriage at the age
of twenty-eight ; his business career which
followed, lasting ten or more years, and
consisting mainly in getting rid of the fortune
his father had left him; and his career as
an ornithologist which, though attended
with great hardships and privations, brought
him much happiness and, long before the
end, substantial pecuniary rewards,

His ornithological tastes and studies
really formed the main current of his life
Srom his teens onward. During his busi-
ness ventures in Kentucky and elsewhere
this current came to the surface more and
more, absorbed more and more of his time
and energies, and carried him further and
Surther from the conditions of a successful
business career.

J. B.

West Park, New York,
January, 1902,

CHRONOLOGY.

1780
May 4. John James La Forest Audubon
was born at Mandeville, Louisiana.
(Paucity of dates and conflicting state-
ments make it impossible to insert dates
to show when the family moved to St.
Domingo, and thence to France. )

1797 (2)
Returned to America from France. Here
followed life at Mill Grove Farm, near
Philadelphia.
1805 or 6

Again in France for about two years.
Studied under David, the artist. Then
returned to America.

1808
April 8. Married Lucy Bakewell, and
journeyed to Louisville, Kentucky, to
engage in business with one Rozier.

1810
March. First met Wilson, the ornitholo-
gist.

xiv CHRONOLOGY

1812
Dissolved partnership with Rozier.

1808-1819

Various business ventures in Louisville,
Hendersonville, and St. Geneviéve, Ken-
tucky, again at Hendersonville, thence
again to Louisville.

1819
Abandoned business career.
Became taxidermist in Cincinnati.

1820
Left Cincinnati. Began to form definite
plans for the publication of his draw-
ings. Returned to New Orleans.

1822
Went to Natchez by steamer. Gun-
powder ruined two hundred of his
drawings on this trip. Obtained posi-
tion of Drawing-master in the college at
Washington, Mississippi. At the close
of this year took his first lessons in oils.

1824
Went to Philadelphia to get his draw-
ings published. Thwarted. There met
Sully, and Prince Canino.

CHRONOLOGY xv

1826
Sailed for Europe to introduce his draw-
ings.
1827
Issued prospectus of his ‘‘ Birds.”’
1828
Went to Paris to canvass. Visited

Cuvier.

1829
Returned to the United States, scoured
the woods for more material for his
biographies.

1830
Returned to London with his family.

1830-1839

Elephant folio, The Birds of North Amer-

ica, published.
1831-39

American Ornithological Biography pub-
lished in Edinburgh.
1831
Again in America for nearly three years.
1832-33
In Florida, South Carolina, and the
Northern States, Labrador, and Canada.

xvi CHRONOLOGY

1834
Completion of second volume of “ Birds,’’
also second volume of American Ornitho-
logical Biography.

1835
In Edinburgh.

1836
To New York again— more exploring ;
found books, papers and drawings had
been destroyed by fire, the previous
year. y

1837
Went to London.

1838
Published fourth volume of American
Ornithological Biography.

1839

Published fifth volume of ‘‘ Biography.”’
1840

Left England for the last time.
1842

Built house in New York on ‘‘Minnie’s
Land,’’ now Audubon Park.

CHRONOLOGY xvii

1843
Yellowstone River Expedition.

1840-44
Published the reduced edition of his
‘¢Bird Biographies.”’

1846
Published first volume of ‘‘ Quadru-

peds.’’
1848

Completed Quadrupeds and Biography of
American Quadrupeds. (The last vol-
ume was not published till 1854, after

his death.)
1861

January 27. John James Audubon died
in New York.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

I.

THERE is a hopeless confusion as to
certain important dates in Audubon’s
life. He was often careless and unreli-
able in his statements of matters of fact,
which weakness during his lifetime
often led to his being accused of false-
hood. Thus he speaks of the ‘‘memo-
rable battle of Valley Forge’’ and oftwo
brothers of his, both officers in the
French army, as having perished in the
French Revolution, when he doubtless
meant uncles. He had previously stated
that his only two brothers died in infancy.
He confessed that he had no head for
mathematics, and he seems always to
have been at sea in regard to his own
age. In his letters and journals there
are several references to his age, but
they rarely agree. The date of his birth
usually given, May 4, 1780, is probably
three or four years too early, as he

2 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

speaks of himself as being nearly sev-
enteen when his mother had him con-
firmed in the Catholic Church, and this
was about the time that his father, then
an Officer in the French navy, was sent
to England to effect a change of prison-
ers, which time is given as 1801.

The two race strains that mingle in
him probably account for this illogical
habit of mind, as well as for his roman-
tic and artistic temper and tastes.

His father was a sea-faring man and
a Frenchman ; his mother was a Spanish
Creole of Louisiana — the old chivalrous
Castilian blood modified by new world
conditions. The father, through com-
mercial channels, accumulated a large
property in the island of St. Domingo.
In the course of his trading he made
frequent journeys to Louisiana, then the
property of the French government.
On one of these trips, probably, he mar-
ried one of the native women, who is
said to have possessed both wealth and

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 3

beauty. The couple seem to have occu-
pied for a time a plantation belonging to
a French Marquis, situated at Mande-
ville on the North shore of Lake Pont-
chartrain. Here three sons were born
to them, of whom John James La Forest
was the third. The daughter seems to
have been younger.

His own mother perished in a slave
insurrection in St. Domingo, where the
family had gone to live on the Audubon
estate at Aux Cayes, when her child was
but a few months old. Audubon says
that his father with his plate and money
and himself, attended by a few faithful
servants, escaped to New Orleans. What
became of his sister he does not say,
though she must have escaped with
them, since we hear of her existence
years later. Not long after, how long we
do not know, the father returned to
France, where he married a second time,
giving the son, as he himself says, the
only mother he ever knew. This woman

4 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

proved a rare exception among step-
mothers— but she was too indulgent,
and, Audubon says, completely spoiled
him, bringing him up to live like a gen-
tleman, ignoring his faults and boasting
of his merits, and leading him to believe
that fine clothes and a full pocket were
the most desirable things in life.

This she was able to do all the more
effectively because the father soon left
the son in her charge and returned to
the United States in the employ of the
French government, and before long
became attached to the army under La
Fayette. This could not have been later
than 1781, the year of Cornwallis’ sur-
render, and Audubon would then have
been twenty-one, but this does not square
with his own statements. After the war
the father still served some years in the
French navy, but finally retired from
active service and lived at La Gerbétiére
in France, where he died at the age of
ninety-five, in 1818.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 5

Audubon says of his mother: ‘Let
no one speak of her as my step-mother.
I was ever to her as a son of her own
flesh and blood and she was to me a true
mother.’’ ‘With her he lived in the city
of Nantes, France, where he appears to
have gone to school. It was, however,
only from his private tutors that he
says he got any benefit. His father de-
sired him to follow in his footsteps, and
he was educated accordingly, studying
drawing, geography, mathematics, fenc-
ing, and music. Mathematics he found
hard dull work, as have so many men of
like temperament, before and since, but
music and fencing and geography were
more to his liking. He was an ardent,
imaginative youth, and chafed under all
drudgery and routine. His foster-mother,
in the absence of his father, suffered him
to do much as he pleased, and he pleased
to ‘‘play hookey’’ most of the time,
joining boys of his own age and disposi-
tion, and deserting the school for the

6 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

fields and woods, hunting birds’ nests,
fishing and shooting and returning home
at night with his basket filled with
various natural specimens and curiosi-
ties. The collecting fever is not a bad
one to take possession of boys at this
age.

In his autobiography Audubon relates
an incident that occurred when he was
a child, which he thinks first kindled
his love for birds. It was an encounter
between a pet parrot and a tame mon-
key kept by his mother. One morning
the parrot, Mignonne, asked as usual for
her breakfast of bread and milk, where-
upon the monkey, being in a bad humour,
attacked the poor defenceless bird, and
killed it. Audubon screamed at the
cruel sight, and implored the servant to
interfere and save the bird, but without
avail. The boy’s piercing screams
brought the mother, who succeeded in
tranquillising the child. The monkey
was chained, and the parrot buried, but

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 7

the tragedy awakened in him a lasting
love for his feathered friends,

Audubon’s father seems to have been
the first to direct his attention to the study
of birds, and to the observance of Nature
generally. Through him he learned to
notice the beautiful colourings and mark-
ings of the birds, to know their haunts,
and to observe their change of plumage
with the changing seasons; what he
learned of their mysterious migrations
fired his imagination.

He speaks of this early intimacy with
Nature as a feeling which bordered on
frenzy. Watching the growth of a bird
from the egg he compares to the unfold-
ing of a flower from the bud.

The pain which he felt in seeing the
birds die and decay was very acute, but,
fortunately, about this time some one
showed him a book of illustrations, and
henceforth ‘‘a new life ran in my veins,’’
hesays. To copy Nature was thereafter
his one engrossing aim.

8 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

That he realised how crude his early
efforts were is shown by his saying:
‘“‘My pencil gave birth to a family of
cripples.’? His steady progress, too, is
shown in his custom, on every birthday,
of burning these ‘Crippled’ drawings,
then setting to work to make better,
truer ones.

His father returning from a sea voy-
age, probably when the son was about
twenty years old, was not well pleased
with the progress that the boy was mak-
ing in his studies. One morning soon -
after, Audubon found himself with his
trunk and his belongings in a private
carriage, beside his father, on his way to
the city of Rochefort. The father oc-
cupied himself with a book and hardly
spoke to his son during the several days
of the journey, though there was no
anger in his face. After they were
settled in their new abode, he seated his
son beside him and taking one of his
hands in his, calmly said: ‘‘ My beloved

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 9

boy, thou art now safe. I have brought
thee here that I may be able to pay con-
stant attention to thy studies; thou
shalt have ample time for pleasures,
but the remainder must be employed
with industry and care.’’

But the father soon left him on some
foreign mission for his government and
the boy chafed as usual under his tasks
and confinement. One day, too much
mathematics drove him into making his
escape by leaping from the window, and
making off through the gardens attached
to the school where he was confined. A
watchful corporal soon overhauled him,
however, and brought him back, where
he was confined on board some sort of
prison ship in the harbour. His father
soon returned, when he was released, not
without a severe reprimand.

We next find him again in the city of
Nantes struggling “with more odious
mathematics, and spending all his leis-
ure time in the fields and woods, study-

10 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

ing the birds. About this time he began
a series of drawings of the French birds,
which grew to upwards of two hundred,
all bad enough, he says, but yet real
representations of birds, that gave him a
certain pleasure. They satisfied his need
of expression.

At about this time, too, though the
year we do not know, his father con-
cluded to send him to the United States,
apparently to occupy a farm called Mill
Grove, which the father had purchased.
some years before, on the Schuylkill
river near Philadelphia. In New York
he caught the yellow fever: he was.
carefully nursed by two Quaker ladies.
who kept a boarding house in Morris-
town, New Jersey.

In due time his father’s agent, Miers.
Fisher, also a Quaker, removed him to
his own villa near Philadelphia, and
here Audubon seems to have remained.
some months. But the gay and ardent
youth did not find the atmosphere of the

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 11

place congenial. The sober Quaker grey
was not to his taste. His host was op-
posed to music of all kinds, and to danc-
ing, hunting, fishing and nearly all
other forms of amusement. More than
that, he had a daughter between whom
and Audubon he apparently hoped an
affection would spring up. But Audu-
bon took an unconquerable dislike to
her. Very soon, therefore, he demanded
to be put in possession of the estate to
which his father had sent him.

Of the month and year in which he
entered upon his life at Mill Grove, we
are ignorant. We know that he fell
into the hands of another Quaker, Will-
iam Thomas, who was the tenant on the
place, but who, with his worthy wife,
seems to have made life pleasant for
him. He soon became attached to Mill
Grove, and led a life there just suited
to his temperament.

“Hunting, fishing, drawing, music,
occupied my every moment; cares I

12 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

knew not and cared naught about them.
I purchased excellent and _ beautiful
horses, visited all such neighbours as I
found congenial spirits, and was as
happy as happy could be.”’

Near him there lived an English
family by the name of Bakewell, but
he had such a strong antipathy to the
English that he postponed returning the
call of Mr. Bakewell, who had left his
card at Mill Grove during one of Audu-
bon’s excursions to the woods. In the
late fall or early winter, however, he
chanced to meet Mr. Bakewell while out
hunting grouse, and was so pleased with
him and his well-trained dogs, and his
good marksmanship, that he apologised
for his discourtesy in not returning his
call, and promised to do so forthwith.
Not many mornings thereafter he was
seated in his neighbour’s house.

‘¢Well do I recollect the morning,’’
he says in the autobiographical sketch
which he prepared for his sons, ‘‘and

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 138

may it please God that I never forget it,
when for the first time I entered Mr.
Bakewell’s dwelling. It happened that
he was absent from home, and I was
shown into a parlour where only one
young lady was snugly seated at her
work by the fire. She rose on my en-
trance, offered me a seat, assured me of
‘the gratification her father would feel
on his return, which, she added, would
be in a few moments, as she would des-
patch a servant for him. Other ruddy
cheeks and bright eyes made their trans-
jent appearance, but, like spirits gay,
soon vanished from my sight; and there
Isat, my gaze riveted, as it were, on the
young girl before me, who, half work-
ing, half talking, essayed to make the
time pleasant to me. Oh! may God
bless her! It was she, my dear sons,
who afterwards became my beloved
wife, and your mother. Mr. Bakewell
soon made his appearance, and received
me with the manner and hospitality of

14 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

a true English gentleman. The other
members of the family were soon intro-
duced to me, and Lucy was told to have
luncheon produced. She now rose from
her seat a second time, and her form, to
which I had paid but partial attention,
showed both grace and beauty ; and my
heart followed every one of her steps.
The repast over, dogs and guns were
made ready.

“Lucy, I was pleased to believe,
looked upon me with some favour, and J
turned more especially to her on leav-
ing. I felt that certain ‘Je ne sais quot’
which intimated that, at least, she was
not indifferent to me.”’

The winter that followed was a gay
and happy one at Mill Grove ; shooting
parties, skating parties, house parties
with the Bakewell family, were of fre-
quent occurrence. It was during one of
these skating excursions upon the Perk-
iomen in quest of wild ducks, that
Audubon had a lucky escape from

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 15

drowning. He was leading the party
down the river in the dusk of the even-
ing, with a white handkerchief tied to
a stick, when he came suddenly upon a
large air hole into which, in spite of
himself, his impetus carried him. Had
there not chanced to be another air hole
a few yards below, our hero’s career
would have ended then and there. The
current quickly carried him beneath the
ice to this other opening where he man-
aged to seize hold of the ice and to
crawl out.

His friendship with the Bakewell fam-
ily deepened. Lucy taught Audubon
English, he taught her drawing, and
their friendship very naturally ripened
into love, which seems to have run its
course smoothly.

Audubon was happy. He had ample
means, and his time was filled with
congenial pursuits. He writes in his
journal: “I had no vices, but was
thoughtless, pensive, loving, fond of

16 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

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 to dress
in the finest ruffled shirts I could obtain
from France.’’

The evidences of vanity regarding his
looks and apparel, sometimes found in
his journal, are probably traceable to
his foster-mother’s unwise treatment of
him in his youth. We have seen how
his father’s intervention in the nick of
time exercised a salutary influence upon
him at this point in his career, directing
his attention to the more solid attain-
ments. Whatever traces of this self-con-
sciousness and apparent vanity remained
in after life, seem to have been more the
result of a naive character delighting in
picturesqueness in himself as well as in
Nature, than they were of real vanity.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 17

In later years he was assuredly nothing
of the dandy; he himself ridicules his
youthful fondness for dress, while those
who visited him during his last years
speak of him as particularly lacking in
self-consciousness.

Although he affected the dress of the
dandies of his time, he was temper-
ate and abstemious. ‘‘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.’’
“All this time I was fair and rosy,
strong and active as one of my age and
sex could be, and as active and agile as
a buck.”’

That he was energetic and handy and
by no means the mere dandy that his ex-
travagance in dress might seem to indi-
cate, is evidenced from the fact that
about this time he made a journey on
foot to New York and accomplished the
ninety miles in three days in mid-
winter. But he was angry, and anger is
better than wine to walk on.

18 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

The cause of his wrath was this; a
lead mine had been discovered upon the
farm of Mill Grove, and Audubon had
applied to his father for counsel in regard
to it. In response, the elder Audubon
had sent over a man by the name of Da
Costa who was to act as his son’s partner
and partial guardian — was to teach him
mineralogy and mining engineering, and
to look after his finances generally. But
the man, Audubon says, knew nothing
of the subjects he was supposed to teach,
and was, besides, ‘‘a covetous wretch,
who did all he could to ruin my father,
and, indeed, swindled both of us to a
large amount.’’ Da Costa pushed his
authority so far as to object to Audu-
bon’s proposed union with Lucy Bake-
well, as being a marriage beneath him,
and finally plotted to get the young man
off to India. These things very naturally
kindled Audubon’s quick temper, and
he demanded of his tutor and guardian
money enough to take him to France

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 19

to consult with his father. Da Costa
gave him a letter of credit on a sort of
banker-broker residing in New York.
To New York he accordingly went, as
above stated, and found that the banker-
broker was in the plot to pack him off
to India. This disclosure kindled his
wrath afresh. He says that had he
had a weapon about him the banker’s
heart must have received the result of
his wrath. His Spanish blood began to
declare itself.

Then he sought out a brother of Mr.
Bakewell and the uncle of his sweet-
heart, and of him borrowed the money
to take him to France. He took pas-
sage on a New Bedford brig bound for
Nantes. The captain had recently been
married and when the vessel reached
the vicinity of New Bedford, he discov-
éred some dangerous leaks which neces-
sitated a week’s delay to repair damages.
Audubon avers that the captain had
caused holes to be bored in the vessel’s

20 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

sides below the water line, to gain an
excuse to spend a few more days with
his bride.

After a voyage of nineteen days the
vessel entered the Loire, and anchored
in the lower harbour of Nantes, and
Audubon was soon welcomed by his
father and fond foster-mother.

His first object was to have the man
Da Costa disposed of, which he soon
accomplished ; the second, to get his
father’s consent to his marriage with
Lucy Bakewell, which was also brought
about in due time, although the parents
of both agreed that they were ‘‘owre
young to marry yet.’’

Audubon now remained two years in
France, indulging his taste for hunting,
rambling, and drawing birds and other
objects of Natural History.

This was probably about the years
1805 and 1806. France was under the
sway of Napoleon, and conscriptions
were the order of-the day. The elder

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 21

Audubon became uneasy lest his son be
drafted into the French army ; hence he
resolved to send him back to America.
In the meantime, he interested one
Rozier in the lead mine and had formed
a partnership between him and his son,
to run for nine years. In due course the
two young men sailed for New York,
leaving France at a time when thousands
would have been glad to have followed
their footsteps. ‘i

On this voyage their vessel was pursued
and overhauled by a British privateer,
the Rattlesnake, and nearly all their money
and eatables were carried off, besides two
of the ship’s best sailors. Audubon and
Rozier saved their gold by hiding it under
a cable in the bow of the ship.

On returning to Mill Grove, Audubon
resumed his former habits of life there.
We hear no more of the lead mine, but
more of his bird studies and drawings,
the love of which was fast becoming
his ruling passion. ‘‘ Before I sailed

22 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

for France, I had begun a series of
drawings of the birds of America, and
had also begun a study of their habits.
I at first drew my subject dead, by which
I mean to say that after procuring a
specimen, I hung it up, either by the
head, wing, or foot, and copied it as
closely as I could.’”?’ Even the hateful
Da Costa had praised his bird pictures
and had predicted great things for him
in this direction. His words had given
Audubon a great deal of pleasure.

Mr. William Bakewell, the brother of *
his Lucy, has given us a glimpse of
Audubon and his surroundings at this
time. ‘‘ Audubon took me to his house,
where he and his companion, Rozier,
resided, with Mrs. Thomas for an at-
tendant. On entering his room, I was
astonished and delighted 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

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 23

with stuffed squirrels, raccoons and opos-
sums ; and the shelves around were like-
wise 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 ad-
mirable 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 attendance to his dress. Besides
other accomplishments, he was musical,
a good fencer, danced well, had some
acquaintance with legerdemain tricks,
worked in hair, and could plait willow
baskets.’?’ He adds that Audubon once
swam across the Schuylkill with him
on his back.

II.

AUDUBON was now eager to marry,
but Mr. Bakewell advised him first to
study the mercantile business. This
he accordingly set out to do by enter-
ing as a clerk the commercial house of
Benjamin Bakewell in New York, while
his friend Rozier entered a French house
in Philadelphia.

But Audubon was not cut out for busi-
ness; his first venture was in indigo, and
cost him several hundred pounds. Ro-
zier succeeded no better ; his first specu-
lation was a cargo of hams shipped to
the West Indies which did not return
one fifth of the cost. Audubon’s want
of business habits is shown by the state-
ment that at this time he one day posted
a letter containing eight thousand dollars
without sealing it. His heart was in the
fields and woods with the birds. His
room was filled with drying bird skins,
the odour from which, it is said, became

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 25

so strong that his neighbours sent a con-
stable to him with a message to abate
the nuisance.

Despairing of becoming successful bu-
siness men in either New York or Phila-
delphia, he and Rozier soon returned to
Mill Grove. During some of their com-
mercial enterprises they had visited
Kentucky and thought so well of the
outlook there that now their thoughts
turned thitherward.

Here we get the first date from Audu-
bon; on April 8, 1808, he and Lucy
Bakewell were married. The plantation
of Mill Grove had been previously sold,
and the money invested in goods with
which to open a store in Louisville,
Kentucky. The day after the marriage,
Audubon and his wife and Mr. Rozier
started on their journey. In crossing
the mountains to Pittsburg the coach in
which they were travelling upset, and
Mrs. Audubon was severely bruised.
From Pittsburg they floated down the

26 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Ohio in a flatboat in company with sev-
eral other young emigrant families. The
voyage occupied twelve days and was no
doubt made good use of by Audubon in
observing the wild nature along shore.

In Louisville, he and Rozier opened
a large store which promised well. But
Audubon’s heart was more and more
with the birds, and his business more
and more neglected. Rozier attended to
the counter, and, Audubon says, grew
rich, but he himself spent most of the
time in the woods or hunting with the
planters settled about Louisville, be-
tween whom and himself a warm attach-
ment soon sprang up. He was not grow-
ing rich, but he was happy. ‘‘I shot, I
drew, I looked on Nature only,’’ he
says, ‘‘and my days were happy beyond
human conception, and beyond this I
really cared not.’’

He says that the only part of the com-
mercial business he enjoyed was the ever
engaging journeys which he made to

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 27

New York and Philadelphia to purchase
goods.

These journeys led him through the
“beautiful, the darling forests of Ohio,
Kentucky, and Pennsylvania,’’ and on
one occasion he says he lost sight of the
pack horses carrying his goods and his
dollars, in his preoccupation with a new
warbler.

During his residence in Louisville,
Alexander Wilson, his great rival in
American ornithology, called upon him.
This is Audubon’s account of the meet-
ing: ‘‘ One fair morning I was surprised
by the sudden entrance into our count-
ing room at Louisville of Mr. Alexander
Wilson, the celebrated author of the
American Ornithology, of whose exist-
ence 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 cheek

28 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

bones, 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, trous-
ers and a waistcoat of grey cloth. His
stature was not above the middle size.
He had two volumes under his arm, and
as he approached the table at which I
was working, I thought I discovered
something like astonishment in his coun-
tenance. He, however, immediately
proceeded to disclose the object of his
visit, which was to procure subscrip-
tions for his work. He opened his
books, explained the nature of his occu-
pations, 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 my pen
to write my name in his favour, when my
partner rather abruptly said to me in
French: ‘My dear Audubon, what in-
duces you to subscribe to this work?
Your drawings are certainly far better ;

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 29

and again, you must know as much of
the habits of American birds as this gen-
tleman.’ 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
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 per-
son fond of such subjects, the whole of
the contents, with the same patience,
with which he had showed me his own
engravings. His surprise appeared great,
as he told me he had never had the most
distant idea that any other individual
than himself had been engaged in form-
ing 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

30 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

was not my intention; for, until long
after, when I met the Prince of Musig-
nano in Philadelphia, I had not the
least idea of presenting the fruits of my
labours to the world. Mr. Wilson now
examined my drawings with care, asked
if Ishould have any objection to lend-
ing him a few during his stay, to which
I replied that I had none. He then
bade me good morning, not, however,
until I had made an arrangement to ex-
plore 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
a strong feeling of discontent, or a de-
cided melancholy. The Scotch airs
which he played sweetly on his flute
made me melancholy, too, and I felt for
him. I presented him to my wife and
friends, and seeing that he was all enthu-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 31

siasm, exerted myself as much as was in
my power to procure for him the speci-
mens 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 collec-
tion was greater than his.

‘‘Thinking that perhaps he might be
pleased to publish the results of my re-
searches, I offered them to him, merely
on condition that what I had drawn, or
might afterward draw and send to him,
should be mentioned in his work as com-
ing from my pencil. I at the same time
offered to open a correspondence with
him, which I thought might prove bene-
ficial 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.’’

32 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Wilson’s account of this meeting is in
curious contrast to that of Audubon.
It is meagre and unsatisfactory. Under
date of March 19, he writes in his diary
at Louisville: ‘‘Rambled around the
town with my gun. Examined Mr.
——’s [Audubon’s] drawings in crayons
—very good. Saw two new birds he
had, both Motacillae.’’

“ March 21. Went out this afternoon
shooting with Mr. A. Saw a number of
Sandhill cranes. Pigeons numerous.’’

Finally, in winding up the record of
his visit to Louisville, he says, with pal-
pable inconsistency, not to say falsehood,
that he did not receive one act of civil-
ity there, nor see one new bird, and
found no naturalist to keep him com-
pany.

Some years afterward, Audubon hunted
him up in Philadelphia, and found him
drawing a white headed eagle. He was
civil, and showed Audubon some atten-
tion, but ‘‘spoke not of birds or draw-
ings.’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 33

Wilson was of a nature far less open
and generous than was Audubon. It is
evident that he looked upon the latter as
his rival, and was jealous of his superior
talents ; for superior they were in many
ways. Audubon’s drawings have far
more spirit and artistic excellence, and
his text shows far more enthusiasm and
hearty affiliation with Nature. In ac-
curacy of observation, Wilson is fully
his equal, if not his superior.

As Audubon had deserted his busi-
ness, his business soon deserted him ; he
and his partner soon became discouraged
(we hear no more about the riches Ro-
zier had acquired), and resolved upon
moving their goods to Hendersonville,
Kentucky, over one hundred miles
farther down the Ohio. Mrs. Audu-
bon and her baby son were sent back
to her father’s at Fatland Ford where
they remained upwards of a year.

Business at Hendersonville proved
dull; the country was but thinly in-

34 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

habited and only the coarsest goods
were in demand. To procure food the
merchants had to resort to fishing and
hunting. They employed a clerk who
proved a good shot; he and Audubon
supplied the table while Rozier again
stood behind the counter.

How long the Hendersonville enter-
prise lasted we do not know. Another
change was finally determined upon, and
the next glimpse we get of Audubon, we
see him with his clerk and partner and
their remaining stock in trade, consisting
of three hundred barrels of whiskey,
sundry dry goods and powder, on board
a keel boat making their way down the
Ohio, in a severe snow storm, toward
St. Geneviéve, a settlement on the Mis-
sissippi River, where they proposed to
try again. The boat is steered by a long
oar, about sixty feet in length, made of
the trunk of a slender tree, and shaped
at its outer extremity like the fin of a
dolphin ; four oars in the bow propelled

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 35

her, and with the current they made
about five miles an hour.

Mrs. Audubon, who seems to have re-
turned from her father’s, with her baby,
or babies, was left behind at Henderson-
ville with a friend, until the result of the
new venture should be determined.

In the course of six weeks, after many
delays, and adventures with the ice and
the cold, the party reached St. Gen-
eviéve.

Audubon has given in his journal a
very vivid and interesting account of
this journey. At St. Geneviéve, the
whiskey was in great demand, and what
had cost them twenty-five cents a gallon,
was sold for two dollars. But Audubon
soon became discouraged with the place
and longed to be back in Hendersonville
with hisfamily. He did not like the low
bred French-Canadians, who made up
most of the population of the settlement.
He sold out his interest in the business
to his partner who liked the place and

36 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

the people, and here the two parted
company. Audubon purchased a fine
horse and started over the prairies on
his return trip to Hendersonville.

On this journey he came near being
murdered by a woman and her two des-
perate sons who lived in a cabin on the
prairies, where the traveller put up for
the night. He has given a minute and
graphic account of this adventure in his
journal.

The cupidity of the woman had been |
aroused by the sight of Audubon’s gold
watch and chain. A wounded Indian,
who had also sought refuge in the shanty
had put Audubon upon his guard. It
was midnight, Audubon lay on some bear
skins in one corner of the room, feign-
ing sleep. He had previously slipped
out of the cabin and had loaded his
gun, which lay close at hand. Presently
he saw the woman sharpen a huge carv-
ing knife, and thrust it into the hand of
her drunken son, with the injunction to

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 37

kill yon stranger and secure the watch.
He was just on the point of springing up
to shoot his would-be murderers, when
the door burst open, and two travellers,
each with a long knife, appeared.
Audubon jumped up and told them his
situation. The drunken sons and the
woman were bound, and in the morning
they were taken out into the woods and
were treated as the Regulators treated
delinquents in those days. ‘They were
shot. Whether Audubon did any of the
shooting or not, he does notsay. But he
aided and abetted, and his Spanish
blood must have tingled in his veins.
Then the cabin was set on fire, and the
travellers proceeded on their way.

It must be confessed that this story
sounds a good deal like an episode in a
dime novel, and may well be taken with
agrain ofallowance. Did remote prairie
cabins in those days have grindstones
and carving knives? And why should
the would-be murderers use a knife when
they had guns?

38 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Audubon reached Hendersonville in
early March, and witnessed the severe
earthquake which visited that part of
Kentucky the following November, 1812.
Of this experience we also have a vivid
account in his journals.

Audubon continued to live at Hender-
sonville, his pecuniary means much re-
duced. He says that he made a pedes-
trian tour back to St. Geneviéve to col-
lect money due him from Rozier, walking
the one hundred and sixty-five miles,
much of the time nearly ankle-deep in
mud and water, in a little over three
days. Concerning the accuracy of this
statement one also has his doubts. Later
he bought a ‘‘wild horse,’’ and on its
back travelled over Tennessee and a por-
tion of Georgia, and so around to Phila-
delphia, later returning to Henderson-
ville.

He continued his drawings of birds
and animals, but, in the meantime, em-
barked in another commercial venture,

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 39

and for a time prospered. Some years
previously he had formed a co-partner-
ship with his wife’$ brother, and a com-
mercial house in charge of Bakewell had
been opened in New Orleans. This
turned out disastrously and was a con-
stant drain upon his resources.

This partner now appears upon the
scene at Hendersonville and persuades
Audubon to erect, at a heavy outlay, a
steam grist and saw mill, and to take
into the firm an Englishman by the name
of Pease.

This enterprise brought fresh disaster.
**How I laboured at this infernal mill,
from dawn till dark, nay, at times all
night.”

They also purchased a steamboat
which was so much additional weight to
drag them down. This was about the
year 1817. From this date till 1819,
Audubon’s pecuniary difficulties in-
ereased daily. He had no_ business
talent whatever ; he was a poet and an

40 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

artist; he cared not for money, he
wanted to be alone with Nature. The
forests called to him, the birds haunted
his dreams.

His father dying in 1818, left him a
valuable estate in France, and seventeen
thousand dollars, deposited with a mer-
chant in Richmond, Virginia; but
Audubon was so dilatory in proving
his identity and his legal right to this
cash, that the merchant finally died in-
solvent, and the legatee never received
a cent of it. The French estate he
transferred in after years to his sister
Rosa.

IT.

FInALLy, Audubon gave up the
struggle of trying to be a business
man. He says: ‘‘I parted with every
particle of property I had to my credit-
ors, keeping only the clothes I wore on
that day, my original drawings, and my
gun, and without a dollar in my pocket,
walked to Louisville alone.”’

This he speaks of as the saddest of all
his journeys— ‘‘the only time in my
life when the wild turkeys that so often
crossed my path, and the thousands of
lesser birds that enlivened the woods and
the prairies, all looked like enemies,
and I turned my eyes from them, as if I
could have wished that they had never
existed.”’

But the thought of his beloved Lucy
and her children soon spurred him to
action. He was a good draughtsman,
he had been a pupil of David, he
would turn his talents to account.

42 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

“< As we were straightened to the very
utmost, I undertook to draw portraits at
the low price of five dollars per head, in
black chalk. . I drew a few gratis, and
succeeded so well that ere many days
had elapsed I had an abundance of
work.’’

His fame spread, his orders increased.
A settler came for him in the middle of
the night from a considerable distance
to have the portrait of his mother taken
while she was on the eve of death, and a
clergyman had his child’s body exhumed >
that the artist might restore to him the
lost features.

Money flowed in and he was soon
again established with his family in a
house in Louisville. His drawings of
birds still continued and, he says, be-
came at times almost a mania with him ;
he would frequently give up a head,
the profits of which would have supplied
the wants of his family a week or more,
“‘to represent a little citizen of the
feathered tribe.”’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 43

In 1819 he was offered the position of
taxidermist in the museum at Cincinnati,
and soon moved there with his family.
His pay not being forthcoming from the
museum, he started a drawing school
there, and again returned to his por-
traits. Without these resources, he
says, he would have been upon the
starving list. But food was plentiful
and cheap. He writes in his journal:
‘‘Our living here is extremely moder-
ate; the markets are well supplied and
cheap, beef only two and one half cents
@ pound, and I am able to supply a good
deal myself. Partridges are frequently
in the streets, and I can shoot wild tur-
keys within a mile or so. Squirrels and
Woodcock are very abundant in the
season, and fish always easily caught.’’

In October, 1820, we again find him
adrift, apparently with thought of hav-
ing his bird drawings published, after he
shall have further added to them by
going through many of the southern
and western states.

44 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Leaving his family behind him, he
started for New Orleans on a flatboat.
He tarried long at Natchez, and did not
reach the Crescent City till midwinter.
Again he found himself destitute of
means, and compelled to resort to por-
trait painting. He went on with his
bird collecting and bird painting; in
the meantime penetrating the swamps
and bayous around the city.

At this time he seems to have heard of
the publication of Wilson’s ‘‘ Ornitho-
logy,’’? and tried in vain to get sight of
a copy of it.

In the spring he made an attempt to
get an appointment as draughtsman and
naturalist to a government expedition
that was to leave the next year to survey
the new territory ceded to the United
States by Spain. He wrote to President
Monroe upon the subject, but the ap-
pointment never came to him. In March
he called upon Vanderlyn, the historical
painter, and took with him a portfolio

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 45

of his drawings in hopes of getting a
recommendation. Vanderlyn at first
treated him as a mendicant and ordered
him to leave his portfolio in the entry.
After some delay, in company with a
government official, he consented to see
the pictures.

“The perspiration ran down my face,’’
says Audubon, ‘‘as I showed him my
drawings and laid them on the floor.”’
He was thinking of the expedition to
Mexico just referred to, and wanted to
make a good impression upon Vanderlyn
and the officer. This he succeeded in
doing, and obtained from the artist a
very complimentary note, as he did also
from Governor Robertson of Louisiana.

In June, Audubon left New Orleans
for Kentucky, to rejoin his wife and
boys, but somewhere on the journey en-
gaged himself to a Mrs. Perrie who lived
at Bayou Sara, Louisiana, to teach her
daughter drawing during the summer, at
sixty dollars per month, leaving him half

46 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

of each day to follow his own pursuits.
He continued in this position till October
when he took steamer for New Orleans.
“My long, flowing hair, and loose yel-
low nankeen dress, and the unfortunate
cut of my features, attracted much atten-
tion, and made me desire to be dressed
like other people as soon as possible.’’

He now rented a house in New Orleans
on Dauphine street, and determined to
send for his family. Since he had left
Cincinnati the previous autumn, he had
finished sixty-two drawings of birds and
plants, three quadrupeds, two snakes,
fifty portraits of all sorts, and had lived
by his talents, not having had a dollar
when he started. ‘‘TI sent a draft to my
wife, and began life in New Orleans
with forty-two dollars, health, and much
eagerness to pursue my plan of collecting
all the birds of America.’’

His family, after strong persuasion,
joined him in December, 1821, and his
former life of drawing portraits, giving

’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 47

lessons, painting birds, and wandering
about the country, began again. His
earnings proving inadequate to support
the family, his wife took a position as
governess in the family of a Mr. Brand.

In the spring, acting upon the judg-
ment of his wife, he concluded to leave
New Orleans again, and to try his fort-
unes elsewhere. He paid all his bills
and took steamer for Natchez, paying
his passage by drawing a crayon por-
trait of the captain and his wife.

On the trip up the Mississippi, two
hundred of his bird portraits were sorely
damaged by the breaking of a bottle of
gunpowder in the chest in which they
were being conveyed.

Three times in his career he met with
disasters to his drawings. On the oc-
casion of his leaving Hendersonville to
go to Philadelphia, he had put two
hundred of his original drawings in a
wooden box and had left them in charge
of a friend. On his return, several

48 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

months later, he pathetically recounts
what befell them: ‘‘A pair of Norway
rats had taken possession of the whole,
and reared a young family among
gnawed bits of paper, which but a
month previous, represented nearly one
thousand inhabitants of the air !”’

This discovery resulted in insomnia,
and a fearful heat in the head; for
several days he seemed like one
stunned, but his youth and health
stood him in hand, he rallied, and, un-
daunted, again sallied forth to the
woods with dog and gun. In three
years’ time his portfolio was again
filled.

The third catastrophe to some of his
drawings was caused by a fire in a New
York building in which his treasures
were kept during his sojourn in
Europe.

Audubon had an eye for the pictur-
esque in his fellow-men as well as for the
picturesque in Nature. On the Levee

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 49

in New Orleans, he first met a painter
whom he thus describes: ‘‘ His head was
covered by a straw hat, the brim of
which might cope with those worn by
the fair sex in 1830; his neck was ex-
posed to the weather ; the broad frill of
a shirt, then fashionable, flopped about
his breast, whilst an extraordinary col-
lar, carefully arranged, fell over the top
of his coat. The latter was of a light
green colour, harmonising well with a
pair of flowing yellow nankeen trousers,
and a pink waistcoat, from the bosom of
which, amidst a large bunch of the
splendid flowers of the magnolia, pro-
truded part of a young alligator, which
seemed more anxious to glide through
the muddy waters of a swamp than to
spend its life swinging to and fro
amongst folds of the finest lawn. The
gentleman held in one hand a cage full
of richly-plumed nonpareils, whilst in
the other he sported a silk umbrella, on
which I could plainly read ‘Stolen from

50 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

I,’ these words being painted in large
white characters. He walked as if con-
scious of his own importance; that is,
with a good deal of pomposity, singing,
‘My love is but a lassie yet’ ; and that
with such thorough imitation of the
Scotch emphasis that had not his physi-
ognomy suggested another parentage, I
should have believed him to be a genu-
ine Scot. A narrower acquaintance
proved him to be a Yankee; and anx-
ious to make his acquaintance, I desired
to see his birds. He retorted, ‘What —
the devil did I know about birds?’ I
explained to him that I was a naturalist,
whereupon he requested me to examine
his birds. I did so with much interest,
and was preparing to leave, when he
bade me come to his lodgings and see
the remainder of his collection. This
I willingly did, and was struck with
amazement at the appearance of his stu-
dio. Several cages were hung about the
walls, containing specimens of birds, all

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 51

of which J examined at my leisure. On
a large easel before me stood an unfin-
ished portrait, other pictures hung
about, and in the room were two young
pupils ; and at a glance I discovered
that the eccentric stranger was, like my-
self, a naturalist and an artist. The
artist, as modest as he was odd, showed
me how he laid on the paint on his
pictures, asked after my own pursuits,
and showed a friendly spirit which en-
chanted me. With a ramrod for a rest,
he prosecuted his work vigorously, and
afterwards asked me to examine a per-
cussion lock on his gun, a novelty to me
at the time. He snapped some caps,
and on my remarking that he would
frighten his birds, he exclaimed, ‘ Devil
take the birds, there are more of them
in the market.’ He then loaded his
gun, and wishing to show me that he
was a marksman, fired at one of the pins
on his easel. This he smashed to pieces,
and afterward put a rifle bullet exactly

52 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

through the hole into which the pin
fitted.”

Audubon reached Natchez on March
24, 1822, and remained there and in the
vicinity till the spring of 1823, teaching
drawing and French to private pupils
and in the college at Washington, nine
miles distant, hunting, and painting the
birds, and completing his collection.
Among other things he painted the
‘‘Death of Montgomery’’ from a print.
His friends persuaded him to raffle the
picture off. This he did, and taking one
number himself, won the picture, while
his finances were improved by three
hundred dollars received for the tickets.
Early in the autumn his wife again joined
him, and presently we find her acting as
governess in the home of a clergyman
named Davis.

In December, there arrived in Natchez
a wandering portrait painter named
Stein, who gave Audubon his first les-
sons in the use of oil colours, and was in-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 53

structed by Audubon in turn in chalk
drawing.

There appear to have been no sacri-
fices that Mrs. Audubon was not willing
and ready to make to forward the plans
of her husband. ‘‘My best friends,’’ he
says at this time, ‘“‘solemnly regarded
me as a mad man, and my wife and fam-
ily alone gave me encouragement. My
wife determined that my genius should
prevail, and that my final success as an
ornithologist should be triumphant.’’

She wanted him to go to Europe, and,
to assist toward that end, she entered
into an engagement with a Mrs. Percy
of Bayou Sara, to instruct her children,
together with her own, and a limited
number of outside pupils.

Audubon, in the meantime, with his
son Victor, and his new artist friend,
Stein, started off in a wagon, seeking
whom they might paint, on a journey
through the southern states. They wan-
dered as far as New Orleans, but Audu-

54 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

bon appears to have returned to his wife
again in May, and to have engaged in
teaching her pupils music and drawing.
But something went wrong, there was a
misunderstanding with the Percys, and
Audubon went back to Natchez, revolv-
ing various schemes in his head, even
thinking of again entering upon mer-
cantile pursuits in Louisville.

He had no genius for accumulating
money nor for keeping it after he had
gotten it. One day when his affairs
were at a very low ebb, he met a squatter
with a tame black wolf which took Au-
dubon’s fancy. He says that he offered
the owner a hundred dollar bill for it on
the spot, but was refused. He probably
means to say that he would have offered
it had he had it. Hundred dollar bills,
I fancy, were rarer than tame black
wolves in that pioneer country in those
days.

About this time he and his son Victor
were taken with yellow fever, and Mrs.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 55

Audubon was compelled to dismiss her
school and go to nurse them. They both
recovered, and, in October (1823), set
out for Louisville, making part of the
journey on foot. The following winter
was passed at Shipping Port, near Louis-
ville, where Audubon painted birds,
landscapes, portraits and even signs. In
March he left Shipping Port for Phila-
delphia, leaving his son Victor in the
counting house of a Mr. Berthoud. He
reached Philadelphia on April 5, and re-
mained there till the following August,
studying painting, exhibiting his birds,
making many new acquaintances, among
them Charles Lucien Bonaparte, giving
lessons in drawing at thirty dollars per
month, all the time casting wistful eyes
toward Europe, whither he hoped soon
to be able to go with his drawings. In
July he made a pilgrimage to Mill Grove
where he had passed so many happy
years. The sight of the old familiar
scenes filled him with the deepest emo-
tions.

56 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

In August he left Philadelphia for
New York, hoping to improve his fi-
nances, and, may be, publish his draw-
ings in that city. At this time he had
two hundred sheets, and about one thou-
sand birds. While there he again met
Vanderlyn and examined his pictures,
but says that he was not impressed with
the idea that Vanderlyn was a great
painter.

The birds that he saw in the museum
in New York appeared to him to be set
up in unnatural and constrained atti-
tudes. With Dr. De Kay he visited the
Lyceum, and his drawings were exam-
ined by members of the Institute.
Among them he felt awkward and un-
comfortable. ‘‘I feel that I am strange
to all but the birds of America,’’ he said.
As most of the persons to whom he had
letters of introduction were absent, and
as his spirits soon grew low, he left on
the fifteenth for Albany. Here he found
his money low also. Abandoning the

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 57

idea of visiting Boston, he took pas-
sage on a canal boat for Rochester.
His fellow-passengers on the boat were
doubtful whether he was a government
officer, commissioner, or spy. At that
time Rochester had only five thousand
inhabitants. After a couple of days he
went on to Buffalo and, he says, wrote
under his name at the hotel this sen-
tence : ‘‘ Who, like Wilson, will ramble,
but never, like that great man, die
under the lash of a bookseller.”’

He visited Niagara, and gives a good
account of the impressions which the
cataract made upon him. He did not
cross the bridge to Goat Island on ac-
count of the low state of his funds. In
Buffalo he obtained a good dinner of
bread and milk for twelve cents, and
went to bed cheering himself with
thoughts of other great men who had
encountered greater hardships and had
finally achieved fame.

He soon left Buffalo, taking a deck

58 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

passage on a schooner bound for Erie,
farnishing his own bed and provisions
and paying a fare of one dollar and a
half. From Hrie he and a fellow-traveller
hired a man and cart to take them to
Meadville, paying their entertainers over
night with music and portrait draw-
ing. Reaching Meadville, they had only
one dollar and a half between them, but
soon replenished their pockets by sketch-
ing some of the leading citizens.
Audubon’s belief in himself helped

him wonderfully. He knew that he had
talents, he insisted on using them. Most’
of his difficulties came from trying to do
the things he was not fitted to do. He
did not hesitate to use his talents in a
humble way, when nothing else offered
—portraits, landscapes, birds and ani-
mals he painted, but he would paint
the cabin walls of the ship to pay his
passage, if he was short of funds, or
execute crayon portraits of a shoemaker
and his wife, to pay for shoes to enable

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 59

him to continue his journeys. He could
sleep on a steamer’s deck, with a few
shavings for a bed, and, wrapped in a
blanket, look up at the starlit sky, and
give thanks to a Providence that he
believed was ever guarding and guiding
him.

Early in September he left for Pitts-
burg where he spent one month scouring
the country for birds and continuing his
drawings. In October, he was on his
way down the Ohio in a skiff, in com-
pany with ‘‘a doctor, an artist and
an Irishman.’’ The weather was rainy,
and at Wheeling his companions left the
boat in disgust. He sold his skiff and
continued his voyage to Cincinnati in a
keel boat. Here he obtained a loan of
fifteen dollars and took deck passage on a
boat to Louisville, going thence to Ship-
ping Port to see his son Victor. Ina
few days he was off for Bayou Sara to
see his wife, and with a plan to open a
school there.

60 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

“T arrived at Bayou Sara with rent
and wasted clothes, and uncut hair, and
altogether looking like the Wandering
Jew.”

In his haste to reach his wife and
child at Mr. Percy’s, a mile or more
distant through the woods, he got lost
in the night, and wandered till daylight
before he found the house.

He found his wife had prospered in
his absence, and was earning nearly
three thousand dollars a year, with
which she was quite ready to help him
in the publication of his drawings. He
forthwith resolved to see what he could
do to increase the amount by his own
efforts. Receiving an offer to teach danc-
ing, he soon had a class of sixty organ-
ised. But the material proved so awk-
ward and refractory that the master in
his first lesson broke his bow and nearly
ruined his violin in his excitement and
impatience. Then he danced to his own
music till the whole room came down in

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 61

thunders of applause. The dancing les-
sons brought him two thousand dollars ;
this sum, together with his wife’s savings,
enabled him to foresee a successful issue
to his great ornithological work.

On May, 1826, he embarked at New
Orleans on board the ship Delos for
Liverpool. His journal kept during
this voyage abounds in interesting inci-
dents and descriptions. He landed at
Liverpool, July 20, and delivered some
of his letters of introduction. He soon
made the acquaintance of Mr. Rath-
bone, Mr. Roscoe, Mr. Baring, and Lord
Stanley. Lord Stanley said in looking
over his drawings: ‘‘This work is
unique, and deserves the patronage of
the Crown.”’ In a letter to his wife at
this time, Audubon said: ‘‘I am cher-
ished by the most notable people in and
around Liverpool, and have obtained
letters of introduction to Baron Hum-
boldt, Sir Walter Scott, Sir Humphry
Davy, Sir Thomas Lawrence, Hannah

62 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

More, Miss Edgeworth, and your dis-
tinguished cousin, Robert Bakewell.’
Mark his courtesy to his wife in this
gracious mention of her relative—a
courtesy which never forsook him —a
courtesy which goes far toward retaining
any woman’s affection.

His paintings were put on exhibition
in the rooms of the Royal Institution, an
admittance of one shilling being charged.
From this source he soon realised a
hundred pounds. :

He then went to Edinburgh, carrying
letters of introduction to many well
known literary and scientific men, among
them Francis Jeffrey and ‘‘ Christopher
North.’’

Professor Jameson, the Scotch natural-
ist, received him coldly, and told him,
among other things, that there was no
chance of his seeing Sir Walter Scott —
he was too busy. ‘‘ Not see Sir Walter
Scott ?’’ thought I; ‘‘IsHALt, if I have to
crawl on all fours for a mile.’’ On his

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 63

way up in the stage coach he had passed
near Sir Walter’s seat, and had stood up
and craned his neck in vain to get a
glimpse of the home of a man to whom,
he says, he was indebted for so much
pleasure. He and Scott were in many
ways kindred spirits, men native to the
open air, inevitable sportsmen, copious
and romantic lovers and observers of all
forms and conditions of life. Of course
he will want to see Scott, and Scott will
want to see him, if he once scents his
real quality.

Later, Professor Jameson showed
Audubon much kindness and helped to
introduce him to the public.

In January, the opportunity to see
Scott came to him.

“* January 22, Monday. I was paint-
ing diligently when Captain Hall came
in, and said: ‘Put on your coat, and
come with me to Sir Walter Scott; he
wishes to see you now.’ In a moment I
was ready, for I really believe my coat

64 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

and hat came to me instead of my going
to them. My heart trembled ; I longed
for the meeting, yet wished it over.
Had not his wondrous pen penetrated
my soul with the consciousness that here
was a genius from God’s hand? I felt
overwhelmed at the thought of meeting
Sir Walter, the Great Unknown. We
reached the house, and a powdered
waiter was asked if Sir Walter were in.
We were shown forward at once, and
entering a very small room Captain Hall
said: ‘Sir Walter, I have brought Mr.
Audubon.’ Sir Walter came forward,
pressed my hand warmly, and said he
was ‘glad to have the honour of meeting
me.’ His long, loose, silvery locks
struck me; he looked like Franklin at
his best. He also reminded me of Ben-
jamin West; he had the great benevo-
lence of William Roscoe about him and
a kindness most prepossessing. I could
not forbear looking at him, my eyes
feasted on his countenance. I watched

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 65

his movements as I would those of a
celestial being; his long, heavy, white
eyebrows struck me forcibly. His little
room was tidy, though it partook a good
deal of the character of a laboratory.
He was wrapped in a quilted morning-
gown of light purple silk ; he had been
at work writing on the ‘Life of Napo-
leon.’ He writes close lines, rather
curved as they go from left-to right, and
puts an immense deal on very little
paper. After a few minutes had
elapsed, he begged Captain Hall to ring
a bell; a servant came and was asked
to bid Miss Scott come to see Mr. Audu-
bon. Miss Scott came, black haired and
black-dressed, not handsome but said to
be highly accomplished, and she is the
daughter of Sir Walter Scott.. There
was much conversation. I talked but
little, but, believe me, I listened and
observed, careful if ignorant. I cannot
write more now. I have just returned
from the Royal Society. Knowing that

66 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

I was a candidate for the electorate of
the society, I felt very uncomfortable
and would gladly have been hunting on
Tawapatee Bottom.”’

It may be worth while now to see what
Scott thought of Audubon. Under the
same date, Sir Walter writes in his jour-
nal as follows: ‘‘ January 22, 1827. A
visit from Basil Hall, with Mr. Audu-
bon, the ornithologist, who has followed
the pursuit by many a long wandering
in the American forests. He is an
American by naturalisation, a French-
man by birth; but less of a Frenchman
than I have ever seen — no dust or glim-
mer, or shine about him, but great sim-
plicity of manners and behaviour ; slight
in person and plainly dressed; wears
long hair, which time has not yet tinged ;
his countenance acute, handsome, and
interesting, but still simplicity is the
predominant characteristic. I wish I
had gone to see his drawings ; but I had
heard so much about them that I re-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 67

solved not to see them — ‘a crazy way of
mine, your honour.’ ”’

Two days later Audubon again saw
Scott, and writes in his journal as fol-
lows: ‘‘ January 24. My second visit
to Sir Walter Scott was much more
agreeable than my first. My portfolio
and its contents were matters on which
I could speak substantially, and I found
him so willing to level himself with
me for awhile that the time spent at
his home was agreeable and valuable.
His daughter improved in looks the
moment she spoke, having both viva-
city and good sense.’’

Scott’s impressions of the birds as
recorded in his journal, was that the
drawings were of the first order, but.
he thought that the aim at extreme
correctness and accuracy made them
rather stiff.

In February Audubon met Scott again
at the opening of the Exhibition at the:
rooms of the Royal Institution.

68 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

‘¢ Tuesday, February 18. This was
the grand, long promised, and much
wished-for day of the opening of the
Exhibition at the rooms of the Royal
Institution. At one o’clock I went,
the doors were just opened, and in a
few minutes the rooms were crowded.
Sir Walter Scott was present; he came
towards me, shook my hand cordially,
and pointing to Landseer’s picture
said: ‘Many such scenes, Mr. Audu-
bon, have I witnessed in my younger
days.’ We talked much of all about
us, and I would gladly have joined
him in a glass of wine, but my foolish
habits prevented me, and after inquir-
ing of his daughter’s health, I left him,
and shortly afterwards the rooms; for I
had a great appetite, and although there
were tables loaded with delicacies, and I
saw the ladies particularly eating freely,
I must say to my shame I dared not lay
my fingers on a single thing. In the
evening I went to the theatre where I

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 69

was much amused by ‘The Comedy of
Errors,’ and afterwards, ‘The Green
Room.’ I admire Miss Neville’s sing-
ing very much; and her manners also;
there is none of the actress about her,
but much of the lady.’’

Audubon somewhere says of himself
that he was ‘‘temperate to an intem-
perate degree’? —the accounts in later
years show that he became less strict
in this respect. He would not drink
with Sir Walter Scott at this time, but
he did with the Texan Houston and
with President Andrew Jackson, later
on.

In September we find him exhibiting
his pictures in Manchester, but without
satisfactory results. In the lobby of the
exchange where his pictures were on ex-
hibition, he overheard one man say to
another: ‘‘ Pray, have you seen Mr.
Audubon’s collection of-birds? I am
told it is well worth a shilling; sup-
pose we go now.”?

70 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

“Pah! it is all a hoax; save your
shilling for better use. I have seen
them ; the fellow ought to be drummed
out of town.’’

In 1827, in Edinburgh, he seems to
have issued a prospectus for his work,
and to have opened books of subscrip-
tion, and now a publisher, Mr. Lizars,
offers to bring out the first number of
‘‘Birds of America,’ and on Novem-
ber 28, the first proof of the first engrav-
ing was shown him, and he was pleased
with it.

With a specimen number he proposed
to travel about the country in quest of
subscribers until he had secured three
hundred. In his journal under date of
December 10, he says: ‘‘My success
in Edinburgh borders on the miraculous.
My book is to be published in numbers
containing four [in another place he
says five] birds in each, the size of life,
in a style surpassing anything now ex-
isting, at two guineas a number. The

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 71

engravings are truly beautiful; some of
them have been coloured, and are now on
exhibition.’

Audubon’s journal, kept during his
stay in Edinburgh, is copious, graphic,
and entertaining. It is a mirror of
everything he saw and felt.

Among others he met George Combe,
the phrenologist, author of the once
famous Constitution of Man, and he sub-
mitted to having his head ‘‘looked at.’’
The examiner said: ‘‘ There cannot exist
a moment of doubt that this gentleman
is a painter, colourist, and compositor,
and, I would add, an amiable though
quick tempered man.”’

Audubon was invited to the annual
feast given by the Antiquarian Society
at the Waterloo Hotel, at which Lord
Elgin presided. After the health of
many others had been drunk, Audubon’s
was proposed by Skene, a Scottish his-
torian. ‘‘ Whilst he was engaged in a
handsome panegyric, the perspiration

72 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

poured from me. I thought I should
faint.’’? But he survived the ordeal and
responded in a few appropriate words.
He was much dined and wined, and
obliged to keep late hours — often get-
ting no more than four hours sleep, and
working hard painting and writing all
the next day. He often wrote in his
journals for his wife to read later, bid-
ding her Good-night, or rather Good-
morning, at three A.M.

Audubon had the bashfulness and
awkwardness of the backwoodsman, and
doubtless the naiveté and picturesqueness
also; these traits and his very great
merits as a painter of wild life, made
him a favourite in Edinburgh society.
One day he went toread a paper on the
Crow to Dr. Brewster, and was so nervous
and agitated that he had to pause for a
moment in the midst of it. He left the
paper with Dr. Brewster and when he
got it back again was much shocked:
“He had greatly improved the style

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 73

(for I had none), but he had destroyed
the matter.’’

During these days Audubon was very
busy writing, painting, receiving callers,
and dining out. He grew very tired of
it all at times, and longed for the solitude
of his native woods. Some days his
room was a perfect levee. ‘It is Mr.
Audubon here, and Mr. Audubon there ;
I only hope they will not make a con-
ceited fool of Mr. Audubon at last.”’
There seems to have been some danger
of this, for he says: ‘‘I seem in a meas-
ure to have gone back to my early days
of society and fine dressing, silk stock-
ings and pumps, and all the finery with
which I made a popinjay of myseif in
my youth. ... I wear my hair as long
as usual, I believe it does as much for
me as my paintings.”’

He wrote to Thomas Sully of Phila-
delphia, promising to send him his
first number, to be presented to the
Philadelphia Society — ‘‘an institution

74 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

which thought me unworthy to be a
member,’’ he writes.

About this time he was a guest for a
day or two of Earl Morton, at his estate
Dalmahoy, near Edinburgh. He had
expected to see an imposing personage
in the great Chamberlain to the late
queen Charlotte. What was his relief
and surprise, then, to see a ‘small,
slender man, tottering on his feet,
weaker than a newly hatched part-
ridge,’? who welcomed him with tears
in hiseyes. The countess, ‘‘a fair, fresh-
complexioned woman, with dark, flash-
ing eyes,’’ wrote her name in his sub-
scription book, and offered to pay the
price in advance. The next day he
gave her a lesson in drawing.

On his return to Edinburgh he dined
with Captain Hall, to meet Francis
Jeffrey. ‘‘Jeffrey is a little man,’’ he
writes, ‘‘ with a serious face and digni-
fied air. He looks both shrewd and
cunning, and talks with so much

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 75

volubility he is rather displeasing. .. .
Mrs. Jeffrey was nervous and very
much dressed.’’

Early in January he painted his
‘¢Pheasant attacked by a Fox.’’ This
was his method of proceeding: ‘‘I take
one [a fox] neatly killed, put him up
with wires, and when satisfied with the
truth of the position, I take my palette
and work as rapidly as possible ; the
same with my birds. If practicable, I
finish the bird at one sitting, — often, it
is true, of fourteen hours,—so that I
think they are correct, both in detail
and in composition.’’

In pictures by Landseer and other
artists which he saw in the galleries of
Edinburgh, he saw the skilful painter,
“the style of men who know how to
handle a brush, and carry a good
effect,’’ but he missed that closeness and
fidelity to Nature which to him so much
outweighed mere technique. Landseer’s
“Death of a Stag’’ affected him like

76 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

a farce. It was pretty, but not real and
true. He did not feel that way about
the sermon he heard Sydney Smith
preach: ‘‘It was a sermon to me. He
made me smile and he made me think
deeply. He pleased me at times by
painting my foibles with due care, and
again I felt the colour come to my cheeks
as he portrayed my sins.’’ Later,
he met Sydney Smith and his ‘fair
daughter,’’? and heard the latter sing.
Afterwards he had a note from the
famous divine upon which he remarks:
“The man should study economy ; he
would destroy more paper in a day than
Franklin would in a week ; but all great
men are more or less eccentric. Walter
Scott writes a diminutive hand, very
difficult to read, Napoleon a large scrawl-
ing one, still more difficult, and Sydney
Smith goes up hill all the way with
large strides.’’

Having decided upon visiting Lon-
don, he yielded to the persuasions of his

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 77

friends and had his hair cut before mak-
ing the trip. He chronicles the event
in his journal as a very sad one, in
which ‘‘ the will of God was usurped by
the wishes of man.’’ Shorn of his locks
he probably felt humbled like the stag
when he loses his horns.

Quitting Edinburgh on April 5, he
visited, in succession, Newcastle, Leeds,
York, Shrewsbury, and Manchester, in
quest of subscribers to his great work.
A few were obtained at each place at
two hundred pounds per head. At
Newcastle he first met Bewick, the
famous wood engraver, and conceived a
deep liking for him.

We find him in London on May 21,
1827, and not in a very happy frame of
mind: ‘To me London is just like the
mouth of an immense monster, guarded
by millions of sharp-edged teeth, from
which, if I escape unhurt, it must be
called a miracle.”? It only filled him
with a strong desire to be in his beloved

78 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

woods again. His friend, Basil Hall,
had insisted upon his procuring a black
suit of clothes. "When he put this on to
attend his first dinner party, he spoke of
himself as ‘‘attired like a mournful
raven,’’? and probably more than ever
wished himself in the woods.

He early called upon the great por-
trait painter, Sir Thomas Lawrence,
who inspected his drawings, pronounced
them ‘‘very clever,’’ and, in a few days,
brought him several purchasers for some
of his animal paintings, thus replenish-
ing his purse with nearly one hundred
pounds,

Considering Audubon’s shy disposi-
tion, and his dread of persons in high
places, it is curious that he should have
wanted to call upon the King, and
should have applied to the American
Minister, Mr. Gallatin, to help him to
doso. Mr. Gallatin laughed and said:
“It is impossible, my dear sir, the King
sees nobody ; he has the gout, is peevish,

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 79
and spends his time playing whist at a
shilling a rubber. I had to wait six
weeks before I was presented to him in
my position of embassador.’’ But his
work was presented to the King who
called it fine, and His Majesty became a
subscriber on the usual terms. Other
noble persons followed suit, yet Audu-
don was despondent. He had removed
the publication of his work from Edin-
burgh to London, from the hands of Mr.
Lizars into those of Robert Havell.
But the enterprise did not prosper, his
agents did not attend to business, nor to
his orders, and he soon found himself
at bay for means to go forward with the
work. At this juncture he determined
to make a sortie for the purpose of col-
lecting his dues and to add to his sub-
seribers. He visited Leeds, York, and
other towns. Under date of October 9,
at York, he writes in his journal:
‘“‘How often I thought during these
visits of poor Alexander Wilson. Then

80 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

travelling as I am now, to procure sub-
scribers he, as well as myself, was re-
ceived with rude coldness, and some-
times with that arrogance which belongs
to parvenus.”’

A week or two later we find him
again in Edinburgh where he break-
fasted with Professor Wilson (‘‘Chris-
topher North’’), whom he greatly en-
joyed, a man without stiffness or ceremo-
nies: ‘No cravat, no waistcoat, but a
fine frill of his own profuse beard, his
hair flowing uncontrolled, and _ his
speech dashing at once at the object
in view, without circumlocution. ...
He gives me comfort by being comforta-
ble himself.’’

In early November he took the coach
for Glasgow, he and three other pas-
sengers making the entire journey
without uttering a single word: ‘‘We
sat like so many owls of different spe-
cies, as if afraid of one another.’’ Four
days in Glasgow and only one sub-
scriber.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 81

Early in January he is back in Lon-
don arranging with Mr. Havell for the
numbers to be engraved in 1828. One
day on looking up to the new moon
he saw a large flock of wild ducks pass-
ing over, then presently another flock
passed. The sight of these familiar
objects made him more homesick than
ever. He often went to Regent’s Park
to see the trees, and the green grass, and
to hear the sweet notes of the black birds
and starlings.

The black birds’ note revived his
drooping spirits: to his wife he writes,
“it carries my mind to the woods
around thee, my Lucy.’’

Now and then a subscriber withdrew
his name, which always cut him to the
quick, but did not dishearten him.

“ January 28. I received a letter
from D. Lizars to-day announcing to
me the loss of four subscribers; but
these things do not dampen my spirits
half so much as the smoke of London.
I am as dull as a beetle.’’

82 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

In February he learned that it was
Sir Thomas Lawrence who prevented
the British Museum from subscribing
to his work: ‘‘He considered the
drawings so-so, and the engraving and
colouring bad; when I remember how
he praised these same drawings in my
presence, I wonder — that is all.”’

The rudest man he met in England
was the Earl of Kinnoul: ‘A small
man with a face like the caricature of an
owl.’’ He sent for Audubon to tell
him that all his birds were alike, and
that he considered his work a swindle.
“He may really think this, his knowl-
edge is probably small; but it is not.
the custom to send for a gentleman to
abuse him in one’s own house.’”? <Au-
dubon heard his words, bowed and left
him without speaking.

In March he went to Cambridge and
met and was dined by many learned men.
The University, through its Librarian,
subscribed for his work. Other subscrip-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 83

tions followed. He was introduced to
a judge who wore a wig that ‘‘ might
make a capital bed for an Osage Indian
during the whole of a cold winter on the
Arkansas River.’’

On his way to Oxford he saw them
turn a stag from a cart ‘‘ before probably
a hundred hounds and as many hunts-
men. <A curious land, and a curious
custom, to catch an animal and then set
it free merely to catch it again.’”?’ At
Oxford he received much attention, but
complains that not one of the twenty-two
colleges subscribed for his work, though
two other institutions did.

Early in April we find him back in
London lamenting over his sad fate
in being compelled to stay in so miser-
able aplace. He could neither write nor
draw to his satisfaction amid the ‘‘ bustle,
filth, and smoke.’’ His mind and heart
turned eagerly toward America, and to
his wife and boys, and he began seriously
to plan for a year’s absence from Eng-

84 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

land. He wanted to renew and to im-
prove about fifty of his drawings. Dur-
ing this summer of 1828, he was very busy
in London, painting, writing, and super-
intending the colouring of his plates.
Under date of August 9, he writes in
his journal: ‘‘I have been at work from
four every morning until dark ; I have
kept up my large correspondence. My
publication goes on well and regularly,
and this very day seventy sets have been
distributed, yet the number of my sub-
scribers has not increased ; on the con-
trary, I have lost some.’? He made the
acquaintance of Swainson, and the two
men found much companionship in each
other, and had many long talks about
birds: ‘‘ Why, Lucy, thou wouldst think
that birds were all that we cared for
in this world, but thou knowest this is
not so.’’

Together he and Mr. and Mrs. Swain-
son planned a trip to Paris, which they
carried out early in September. It

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 85

tickled Audubon greatly to find that the
Frenchman at the office in Calais, who
had never seen him, had described his
complexion in his passport as copper red,
because he was an American, all Ameri-
cans suggesting aborigines. In Paris they
early went to call upon Baron Cuvier.
They were told that he was too busy to be
seen: ‘‘ Being determined to look at the
Great Man, we waited, knocked again,
and with a certain degree of firmness,
sent in our names. The messenger re-
turned, bowed, and led the way up
stairs, where in a minute Monsieur le
Baron, like an excellent good man, came
to us. He had heard much of my friend
Swainson, and greeted him as he de-
serves to be greeted ; he was polite and
kind to me, though my name had never
made its way to his ears. I looked at
him and here follows the result: Age
about sixty-five ; size corpulent, five feet
five English measure ; head large, face
wrinkled and brownish ; eyes grey, brill-

86 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON
iant and sparkling ; nose aquiline, large
and red; mouth large with good lips;
teeth few, blunted by age, excepting one
on the lower jaw, measuring nearly three-
quarters of an inch square.’’ The italics
are not Audubon’s. The great natu-
ralist invited his callers to dine with him
at six on the next Saturday.

They next presented their letter to
Geoffroy de St. Hilaire, with whom
they were particularly pleased. Neither
had he ever heard of Audubon’s work.
The dinner with Cuvier gave him a
nearer view of the manners and habits
of the great man. ‘‘ There was not the
show of opulence at this dinner that is
seen in the same rank of life in Eng-
land, no, not by far, but it was a good
dinner served @ la Frangaise.’’ Neither
was it followed by the ‘‘drinking
matches’’ of wine, so common at Eng-
lish tables.

During his stay in Paris Audubon
saw much of Cuvier, and was very

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 87

Kindly and considerately treated by
him. One day he accompanied a por-
trait painter to his house and saw him
sit for his portrait: ‘‘I see the Baron
now, quite as plainly as I did this morn-
ing,— an old green surtout about him,
a neckcloth that would have wrapped
his whole body if unfolded, loosely
tied. about his chin, and his silver
locks looking like those of a man who
loves to study books better than to visit
barbers.’’

Audubon remained in Paris till near
the end of October, making the acquaint-
ance of men of science and of artists,
and bringing his work to the attention
of those who were likely to value it.
Baron Cuvier reported favourably upon
it to the Academy of Sciences, pro-
nouncing it ‘‘the most magnificent
monument which has yet been erected
to ornithology.”” He obtained thirteen
subscribers in France and spent forty
pounds.

8&8 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

On November 9, he is back in Lon-
don, and soon busy painting, and press-
ing forward the engraving and colouring
of his work. The eleventh number was
the first for the year 1829.

The winter was largely taken up in
getting ready for his return trip to
America. He found a suitable agent to
look after his interests, collected some
money, paid all his debts, and on April
1 sailed from Portsmouth in the packet
ship Columbia. He was sea-sick during
the entire voyage, and reached New
York May 5. He did not hasten to
his family as would have been quite
natural after so long an absence, but
spent the summer and part of the fall
in New Jersey and Pennsylvania, prose-
cuting his studies and drawings of birds,
making his headquarters in Camden, New
Jersey. He spent six weeks in the Great
Pine Forest, and much time at Great
Egg Harbor, and has given delightful
accounts of these trips in his journals.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 89

Four hours’ sleep out of the twenty-
four was his allotted allowance.

One often marvels at Audubon’s ap-
parent indifference to his wife and his
home, for from the first he was given to
wandering. Then, too, his carelessness
in money matters, and his improvident
ways, necessitating his wife’s toiling to
support the family, put him in a rather
unfavourable light as a ‘‘ good provider,”’
but a perusal of his journal shows that
he was keenly alive to all the hardships
and sacrifices of his wife, and from first
to last in his journeyings he speaks of his
longings for home and family. ‘‘Cut
off from all dearest me,’’ he says in one
of his youthful journeys, and in his
latest one he speaks of himself as being
as happy as one can be who is ‘‘three
thousand miles from the dearest friend
on earth.’? Clearly some impelling
force held him to the pursuit of this
work, hardships or no hardships. Fort-
tunately for him, his wife shared his be-

909 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

lief in his talents and in their ultimate
recognition.

Under date of October 11, 1829, he
writes: ‘‘Iam at work and have done
much, but I wish I had eight pairs of
hands, and another body to shoot the
specimens ; still Iam delighted at what
I have accumulated in drawings this
season. Forty-two drawings in four
months, eleven large, eleven middle
size, and twenty-two small, comprising
ninety-five birds, from eagles down-
wards, with plants, nests, flowers, and
sixty different kinds of eggs. I live
alone, see scarcely anyone besides those
belonging to the house where I lodge. I
rise long before day, and work till night-
fall, when I take a walk and to bed.”’

Audubon’s capacity for work was ex-
traordinary. His enthusiasm and per-
severance were equally extraordinary.
His purposes and ideas fairly possessed
him. Never did a man consecrate him-
self more fully to the successful com-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 91
pletion of the work of his life, than did
Audubon to the finishing of his ‘‘ Ameri-
can Ornithology.”’

During this month Audubon left
Camden and turned his face toward
his wife and children, crossing the
mountains to Pittsburg in the mail
coach with his dog and gun, thence
down the Ohio in a steamboat to Louis-
ville, where he met his son Victor,
whom he had not seen for five years.
After a few days here with his two boys,
he started for Bayou Sara to see his wife.
Reaching Mr. Johnson’s house in the
early morning, he went at once to his
wife’s apartment: ‘‘Her door was ajar,
already she was dressed and sitting by
her piano, on which a young lady was
playing. I pronounced her name gently,
she saw me, and the next moment I held
her in my arms. Her emotion was so
great I feared I had acted rashly, but
tears relieved our hearts, once more we
were together.”’

92 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Mrs. Audubon soon settled up her
affairs at Bayou Sara, and the two set
out early in January, 1830, for Louis-
ville, thence to Cincinnati, thence to
Wheeling, and so on to Washington,
where Audubon exhibited his drawings
to the House of Representatives and re-
ceived their subscriptions as a body.
In Washington, he met the President,
Andrew Jackson, and made the ac-
quaintance of Edward Everett. Thence
to Baltimore where he obtained three
more subscribers, thence to New York
from which port he sailed in April with
his wife on the packet ‘ship Pacific, for
England, and arrived at Liverpool in
twenty-five days.

This second sojourn in England lasted
till the second of August, 1831. The
time was occupied in pushing the pub-
lication of his ‘‘Birds,’’? canvassing the
country for new subscribers, painting
numerous pictures for sale, writing his
* Ornithological Biography,”’ living part

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 93

of the time in Edinburgh, and part of
the time in London, with two or three
months passed in France, where there
were fourteen subscribers. While ab-
sent in America, he had been elected a
fellow of the Royal Society of London,
and on May 6 took his seat in the great
hall.

He needed some competent person
to assist him in getting his manuscript
ready for publication and was so fortu-
nate as to obtain the services of Mac-
Gillivray, the biographer of British
Birds.

Audubon had learned that three edi-
tions of Wilson’s ‘‘Ornithology’’ were
soon to be published in Edinburgh, and
he set to work vigorously to get his book
out before them. Assisted by MacGil-
livray, he worked hard at his biography
of the birds, writing all day, and Mrs.
Audubon making a copy of the work to
send to America to secure copyright
there. Writing to her sons at this time,

94 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

Mrs. Audubon says: ‘‘ Nothing is heard
but the steady movement of the pen;
your father is up and at work before
dawn, and writes without ceasing all
day.”’

When the first volume was finished,
Audubon offered it to two publishers,
both of whom refused it, so he pub-
lished it himself in March, 1831.

In April on his way to London he
travelled ‘“‘on that Extraordinary road
called the railway, at the rate of twenty-
four miles an hour.’’

The first volume of his bird pictures
was completed this summer, and, in
bringing it out, forty thousand dollars
had passed through his hands. It had
taken four years to bring that volume
before the world, during which time no
less than fifty of his subscribers, repre-
senting the sum of fifty-six thousand
dollars, had abandoned him, so that at
the end of that time, he had only one
hundred and thirty names standing on
his list.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 95

It was no easy thing to secure enough
men to pledge themselves to $1,000 fora
work, the publication of which must of
necessity extend over eight or ten years.

Few enterprises, involving such labour
and expense, have ever been carried
through against such odds.

The entire cost of the ‘‘Birds’’ ex-
ceeded one hundred thousand dollars,
yet the author never faltered in this
.gigantic undertaking.

On August 2, Audubon and his
wife sailed for America, and landed
in New York on September 4. They
at once went to Louisville where the
wife remained with her sons, while
the husband went to Florida where the
winter of 1831-2 was spent, prosecuting
his studies of our birds. His adventures
and experiences in Florida, he has
embodied in his Floridian Episodes,
“The Live Oakers,’? ‘Spring Gar-
den,’’ ‘‘Deer Hunting,’”’ ‘‘Sandy Isl-
and,’’? ‘‘The Wreckers,’? ‘The Tur-

96 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

tles,’’? ‘‘Death of a Pirate,’ and other
sketches. Stopping at Charleston, South
Carolina, on this southern trip, he made
the acquaintance of the Reverend John
Bachman, and a friendship between
these two men was formed that lasted
as long as they both lived. Subse-
quently, Audubon’s sons, Victor and
John, married Dr. Bachman’s two eld-
est daughters.

In the summer of 1832, Audubon,
accompanied by his wife and two sons,
made a trip to Maine and New Bruns-
wick, going very leisurely by private
conveyance through these countries,
studying the birds, the people, the
,scenery, and gathering new material
for his work. His diaries give minute
accounts of these journeyings. He was
impressed by the sobriety of the people
of Maine; they seem to have had a
‘(Maine law’? at that early date ; ‘‘ for on
asking for brandy, rum, or whiskey, not
a drop could I obtain.’? He saw much

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 97

of the lumbermen and was a deeply in-
terested spectator of their ways and
doings. Some of his best descriptive
passages are contained in these diaries.

In October he is back in Boston plan-.
ning a trip to Labrador, and intent on
adding more material to his ‘‘Birds’’
by another year in his home country.

That his interests abroad in the mean-
time might not suffer by being entirely
in outside hands, he sent his son Victor,
now a young man of considerable busi-
ness experience, to England to repre-
sent him there. The winter of 1832
and 1833 Audubon seems to have spent
mainly in Boston, drawing and re-draw-
ing and there he had his first serious ill-.
ness.

In the spring of 1833, a schooner
was chartered and, accompanied by five
young men, his youngest son, John
Woodhouse, among them, Audubon
started on his Labrador trip, which
lasted till the end of summer. It was

98 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

an expensive and arduous trip, but was
greatly enjoyed by all hands, and was
fruitful in new material for his work.
Seventy-three bird skins were prepared,
many drawings made, and many new
plants collected.

The weather in Labrador was for the
most part rainy, foggy, cold, and windy,
and his drawings were made in the cabin
of his vessel, often under great difficul-
ties. He makes this interesting observa-
tion upon the Eider duck: ‘‘In one
nest of the Eider ten eggs were found ;
this is the most we have seen as yet in
any one nest. The female draws the
down from her abdomen as far toward
her breast as her bill will allow her to
do, but the feathers are not pulled, and
on examination of several specimens,
I found these well and regularly planted,
and cleaned from their original down, as
a forest of trees is cleared of its under-
growth. In this state the female is still
well clothed, and little or no difference

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 99
can be seen in the plumage, unless ex-
amined.’’

He gives this realistic picture of
salmon fishermen that his party saw in
Labrador: ‘‘On going to a house-en the
shore, we found it a tolerably good
cabin, floored, containing a good stove,
a chimney, and an oven at the bottom
of this, like the ovens of the French
peasants, three beds, and a table whereon
the breakfast of the family was served.
This consisted of coffee in large bowls,
good bread, and fried salmon. Three
Labrador dogs came and sniffed about
us, and then returned under the table
whence they had issued, with no appear-
ance of anger. Two men, two women,
and a babe formed the group, which
I addressed in French. They were
French-Canadians and had been here
several years, winter and summer, and
are agents for the Fur and Fish Co., who
give them food, clothes, and about $80
per annum. They have a cow and an

100 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON.

ox, about an acre of potatoes planted in
sand, seven feet of snow in winter, and
two-thirds less salmon than was caught
here ten years since. Then, three hun-
dred barrels was a fair season ; now one
hundred is the maximum; this is be-
cause they will catch the fish both as-
cending and descending theriver. Dur-
ing winter the men hunt Foxes, Martens,
and Sables, and kill some bear of the
black kind, but neither Deer nor other
game is to be found without going a
great distance in the interior, where
Reindeer are now and then procured.
One species of Grouse, and one of Ptar-
migan, the latter white at all seasons;
the former, I suppose to be, the Willow
Grouse. The men would neither sell
nor give us a single salmon, saying,
that so strict were their orders that,
should they sell one, the place might be
taken from them. If this should prove
the case everywhere, I shall not pur-
chase many for my friends. The furs

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 101

which they collect are sent off to Quebec
at the first opening of the waters in
spring, and not a skin of any sort was
here for us to look at.’’

He gives a vivid picture of the face
of Nature in Labrador on a fine day,
under date of July2: ‘‘A beautiful
day for Labrador. Drew another M.
articus. Went on shore, and was most
pleased with what Isaw. The country,
so wild and grand, is of itself enough to
interest any one in its wonderful dreari-
ness. Its mossy, grey-clothed rocks,
heaped and thrown together as if by
chance, in the most fantastical groups
imaginable, huge masses hanging on
minor ones as if about to roll themselves
down from their doubtful-looking situa-
tions, into the depths of the sea beneath.
Bays without end, sprinkled with rocky
islands of all shapes and sizes, where in
every fissure a Guillemot, a Cormorant,
or some other wild bird retreats to secure
its egg, and raise its young, or save itself

102 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

from the hunter’s pursuit. The peculiar
cast of the sky, which never seems to be
certain, butterflies flitting over snow-
banks, probing beautiful dwarf flowerets
of many hues, pushing their tender stems
from the thick bed of moss which every-
where covers the granite rocks. Then
the morasses, wherein you plunge up to
your knees, or the walking over the
stubborn, dwarfish shrubbery, making
one think that as he goes he treads down
the forests of Labrador. The unexpected
Bunting, or perhaps Sylvia, which, per- |
chance, and indeed as if by chance alone,
you now and then see flying before you,
or hear singing from the creeping plants
on the ground. The beautiful fresh-
water lakes, on the rugged crests of
greatly elevated islands, wherein the Red
and Black-necked Divers swim as proudly
as swans doin other latitudes, and where
the fish appear to have been cast as
strayed beings from the surplus food of
the ocean. All—all is wonderfully

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 103
grand, wild—daye, and terrific. And
yet how beautiful it is now, when one
sees the wild bee, moving from one flower
to another in search of food, which doubt-
less is as sweet to it, as the essence of
the magnolia is to those of favoured Lou-
isiana. The little Ring Plover rearing
_ its delicate and tender young, the Eider
Duck swimming man-of-war-like amid
her floating brood, like the guardship of
a most valuable convoy; the White-
crowned Bunting’s sonorous note reach-
ing the ear ever and anon; the crowds
of sea birds in search of places wherein
to repose or to feed — how beautiful is
all this in this wonderful rocky desert at
this season, the beginning of July, com-
pared with the horrid blasts of winter
which here predominate by the will of
God, when every rock is rendered smooth
with snows so deep that every step the
traveller takes is as if entering into his
grave; for even should he escape an
avalanche, his eye dreads to search the

104 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

horizon, for full well he knows that
snow — snow is all that can be seen. I
watched the Ring Plover for some time ;
the parents were so intent on saving their
young that they both lay on the rocks as
if shot, quivering their wings and drag-
ging their bodies as if quite disabled.
We left them and their young to the care
of the Creator. I would not have shot
one of the old ones, or taken one of the
young for any consideration, and I was
glad my young men were as forbearing.
The ZL. marinus is extremely abundant
here; they are forever harassing every
other bird, sucking their eggs, and de-
vouring their young ; they take here the
place of Hagles and Hawks; not an Eagle
have we seen yet, and only two or three
small Hawks, and one small Owl; yet
what a harvest they would have here,
were there trees for them to rest upon.”

On his return from Labrador in Sep-
tember, Audubon spent three weeks in
New York, after which with his wife, he

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 105

started upon another southern trip, paus-
ing at Philadelphia, Baltimore, Wash-
ington, and Richmond. In Washington
he made some attempts to obtain per-
mission to accompany a proposed expe-
dition to the Rocky Mountains, under
Government patronage. But the cold
and curt manner in which Cass, then
Secretary of War, received his appli-
cation, quite disheartened him. But he
presently met Washington Irving, whose
friendly face and cheering words revived
his spirits. How one would likea picture
of that meeting in Washington between
Audubon and Irving —two men who in
so many ways were kindred spirits!
Charleston, South Carolina, was
reached late in October, and at the
home of their friend Bachman the Au-
dubons seem to have passed the most of
the winter of 1833-4: ‘‘My time was
well employed ; I hunted for new birds
or searched for more knowledge of old.
I drew, I wrote many long pages. I ob-

106 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

tained a few new subscribers, and made
some collections on account of my work.’”?

His son Victor wrote desiring the
presence of his father in England, and on
April 16, we find him with his wife and
son John, again embarked for Liverpool.
In due time they are in London where
they find Victor well, and the business of
publication going on prosperously. One
of the amusing incidents of this sojourn,
narrated in the diaries, is Audubon’s and
his son’s interview with the Baron Roth-
schild, to whom he had a letter of intro-
duction from a distinguished American
banking house. The Baron was not
present when they entered his private
office, but “‘soon a corpulent man ap-
peared, hitching up his trousers, and a
face red with the exertion of walking,
and without noticing anyone present,
dropped his fat body into a comfortable
chair, as if caring for no one else in this
wide world but himself. While the
Baron sat, we stood, with our hats held

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 107

respectfully in our hands. I stepped
forward, and with a bow tendered my
credentials. ‘Pray, sir,’ said the man
of golden consequence, ‘is this a letter of
business, or is it a mere letter of intro-
duction?’ This I could not well answer,
for I had not read the contents of it, and
I was forced to answer rather awkwardly,
that I could not tell. The banker then
opened the letter, read it with the man-
ner of one who was looking only at the
temporal side of things, and after reading
it said, ‘This is only a letter of intro-
duction, and I expect from its contents
that you are the publisher of some book
or other and need my subscription.’
‘Had a man the size of a mountain
spoken to me in that arrogant style in
America, I should have indignantly re-
sented it; but where I then was it
seemed best to swallow and digest it as
well asI could. Soinreply to the of-
fensive arrogance of the banker, I said I
should be honoured by his subscription to

108 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

the ‘‘ Birds of America.’’ ‘Sir,’ he said,
‘I never sign my name to any subscrip-
tion list, but you may send in your work
and I will pay for a copy of it. Gentle-
men, Iam busy. I wish you good morn-
ing.’ We were busy men, too, and so
bowing respectfully, we retired, pretty
well satisfied with the small slice of his
opulence which our labour was likely to
obtain.

“A few days afterwards I sent the
first volume of my work half bound, and
all the numbers besides, then published.
On seeing them we were told that he
ordered the bearer to take them to his
house, which was done directly. Num-
ber after number was sent and delivered
to the Baron, and after eight or ten
months my son made out his account and
sent it by Mr. Havell, my engraver, to
his banking-house. The Baron looked
at it with amazement, and cried out,
‘What, a hundred pounds for birds!
Why, sir, I will give you five pounds

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 109

and not a farthing more!’ Representa-
tions were made to him of the magnifi-
cence and expense of the work, and how
pleased his Baroness and wealthy chil-
dren would be to have a copy; but the
great financier was unrelenting. The
copy of the work was actually sent
back to Mr. Havell’s shop, and as I found
that instituting legal proceedings against
him would cost more than it would come
to, I kept the work, and afterwards sold
it to a man with less money but a nobler
heart. What a distance there is between
two such men as the Baron Rothschild
of London, and the merchant of Savan-
nah !”?

Audubon remained in London during
the summer of 1834, and in the fall re-
moved to Edinburgh, where he hired a
house and spent a year and a half at
work on his ‘Ornithological Biogra-
phy,”’ the second and third volumes of
which were published during that time.

In the summer of 1836, he returned

110 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

to London, where he settled his family
in Cavendish Square, and in July,
with his son John, took passage at
Portsmouth for New York, desiring to
explore more thoroughly the southern
states for new material for his work.
On his arrival in New York, Audubon,
to his deep mortification, found that all
his books, papers, and valuable and curi-
ous things, which he had collected both
at home and abroad, had been destroyed
in the great fire in New York, in 1835.

In September he spent some time in
Boston where he met Brewer and Nut-
tall, and made the acquaintance of Daniel
Webster, Judge Story, and others.

Writing to his son in England, at
this time, admonishing him to carry on
the work, should he himself be taken
away prematurely, he advises him thus:
“Should you deem it wise to remove
the publication of the work to this coun-
try, I advise you to settle in Boston; I
have faith in the Bostonians.”’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 111

In Salem he called upon a wealthy
young lady by the name of Silsby, who
had the eyes of a gazelle, but ‘‘when I
mentioned subscription it seemed to fall
on her ears, not as the cadence of the
wood thrush, or of the mocking bird
does on mine, but as a shower bath in
cold January.”’

From Boston Audubon returned in
October to New York, and thence went
southward through Philadelphia to
Washington, carrying with him letters
from Washington Irving to Benjamin F.
Butler, then the Attorney General of
the United States, and to Martin Van
Buren who had just been elected to the
presidency. Butler was then quite a
young man: ‘‘He read Washington
Irving’s letter, laid it down, and
began a long talk about his talents,
and after a while came round to my
business, saying that the Government
allows so little money to the depart-
ments, that he did not think it prob-

112 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

able that their subscription could be
obtained without a law to that effect
from Congress.’’

At this time he also met the Presi-
dent, General Jackson: ‘‘ He was very
kind, and as soon as he heard that we
intended departing to-morrow evening
for Charleston, invited us to dine
with him en famille. At the hour
named we went to the White House,
and were taken into a room, where
the President soon joined us, I sat
close to him; we spoke of olden times,
and touched slightly on politics, and I
found him very averse to the Cause of
the Texans. . . . The dinner was what
might be called plain and substantial in
England; I dined from a fine young
turkey, shot within twenty miles of
Washington. The General drank no
wine, but his health was drunk by us
more than once ; and he ate very mod-
erately ; his last dish consisting of bread
and milk.’’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 113

In November Audubon is again at the
house of his friend Dr. Bachman, in
Charleston, South Carolina. Here he
passed the winter of 1836-7, making
excursions to various points farther
south, going as far as Florida. It was
at this time that he seems to have
begun, in connection with Dr. Bachman,
his studies in Natural History which
resulted in the publication, a few years
later, of the ‘‘Quadrupeds of North
America.’’

In the spring he left Charleston and
set out to explore the Gulf of Mexico,
going to Galveston and thence well into
Texas, where he met General Sam Hous-
ton. Here is one of his vivid, realistic
pen pictures of the famous Texan: ‘‘ We
walked towards the President’s house, ac-
companied by the Secretary of the Navy,
and as soon as we rose above the bank,
we saw before us a level of far-extend-
ing prairie, destitute of timber, and
rather poor soil. Houses half finished,

114 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

and most of them without roofs, tents,
and a liberty pole, with the capitol,
were all exhibited to our view at once.
We approached the President’s man-
sion, however, wading through water
above our ankles. This abode of
President Houston is a small log house,
consisting of two rooms, and a passage
through, after the southern fashion.
The moment we stepped over the thresh-
old, on the right hand of the passage we
found ourselves ushered into what in
other countries would be called the
ante-chamber; the ground floor, how- ,
ever, was muddy and filthy, a large fire
was burning, a small table covered
with paper and writing materials, was
in the centre, camp-beds, trunks, and
different materials, were strewed about
the room. We were at once presented
to several members of the cabinet, some
of whom bore the stamp of men of intel-
lectual ability, simple, though bold, in
their general appearance. Here we

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 115

were presented to Mr. Crawford, an
agent of the British Minister to Mexico,
who has come here on some secret mis-
sion.

“The President was engaged in the
opposite room on some national busi-
ness, and we could not see him for some
time. Meanwhile we amused ourselves
by walking to the capitol, which was
yet without a roof, and the floors,
benches, and tables of both houses of
Congress were as well saturated with
water as our clothes had been in the
morning. Being invited by one of
the great men of the place to enter a
booth to take a drink of grog with
him, we did so; but I was rather sur-
prised that he offered his name, instead
of the cash to the bar-keeper.

‘We first caught sight of President
Houston as he walked from one of the
grog shops, where he had been to pre-
vent the sale of ardent spirits. He was
on his way to his house, and wore a

116 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

large grey coarse hat; and the bulk of
his figure reminded me of the appear-
ance of General Hopkins of Virginia,
for like him he is upwards of six feet
high, and strong in proportion. But I
observed a scowl in the expression of his
eyes, that was forbidding and disagree-
able. We reached his abode before him,
but he soon came, and we were presented
to his excellency. He was dressed in a
fancy velvet coat, and trousers trimmed
with broad gold lace; around his neck
was tied a cravat somewhat in the style
of seventy-six. He received us kindly,
was desirous of retaining us for awhile,
and offered us every facility within his
power. He at once removed us from
the ante-room to his private chamber,
which, by the way, was not much
cleaner than the former. We were
severally introduced by him to the dif-
ferent members of his cabinet and staff,
and at once asked to drink grog with
him, which we did, wishing success to

~

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 117

his new republic. Our talk was short:
but the impression which was made on
my mind at the time by himself, his offi-
cers, and his place of abode, can never
be forgotten.’’

Late in the summer of 1837, Audu-
bon, with his son John and his new wife
—the daughter of Dr. Bachman, re-
turned to England for the lasttime. He
finally settled down again in Edinburgh
and prepared the fourth volume of
his ‘‘ Ornithological Biography.’’ This
work seems to have occupied him a year.
The volume was published in November,
1838. More drawings for his ‘‘ Birds of
America’ were finished the next winter,
and also the fifth volume of the ‘‘ Biogra-
phy’’ which was published in May, 1839.

In the fall of that year the family
returned to America and settled in
New York City, at 86 White street.
His great work, the ‘‘ Birds of America,”’
had been practically completed, incredi-
ble difficulties had been surmounted, and

118 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

the goal of his long years of striving had
been reached. About one hundred and
seventy-five copies of his ‘‘Birds’’ had
been delivered to subscribers, eighty of
the number in this country.

In a copy of the ‘‘ Ornithological
Biography’’ given in 1844 by Audubon
to J. Prescott Hall, the following note,
preserved in the Magazine of American
History (1877) was written by Mr. Hall.
It is reproduced here in spite of its vari-
ance from statements now accepted : —

“Mr. Audubon told me in the year
184- that he did not sell more than 40
copies of his great work in England,
Ireland, Scotland and France, of which
Louis Philippe took 10.

‘‘The following received their copies
but never paid for them: George IV,,
Duchess of Clarence, Marquis of London-
derry, Princess of Hesse Homburg.

‘¢ An Irish lord whose name he would
not give, took two copies and paid for
neither. Rothschild paid for his copy,
but with great reluctance.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 119

“(He further said that he sold 75
copies in America, 26 in New York and
24 in Boston; that the work cost him
, £27,000 and that he lost $25,000 by it.

‘He said that Louis Philippe offered
to subscribe for 100 copies if he would
publish the work in Paris. This he
found could not be done, as it would
have required 40 years to finish it as
things were then in Paris. Of this con-
versation I made a memorandum at the
time which I read over to Mr. Audubon
and he pronounced it correct.

‘¢J. PRESCOTT HALL”?

IV.

ABovuT the very great merit of this
work, there is but one opinion among
competent judges. It is, indeed, a
monument to the man’s indomitable
energy and perseverance, and it is a
monument to the science of ornithology.
The drawings of the birds are very spir-
ited and life like, and their biographies
copious, picturesque, and accurate, and,
taken in connection with his many jour-
nals, they afford glimpses of the life of
the country during the early part of the
century, that are of very great interest
and value.

In writing the biography of the birds
he wrote his autobiography as well; he
wove his doings and adventures into his
natural history observations. This gives
@ personal flavour to his pages, and is
the main source of their charm.

His account of the Rosebreasted Gros-
beak is a good sample of his work in this
respect :

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 121

“One year, in the month of August, I
was trudging along the shores of the
Mohawk river, when night overtook me.
Being little acquainted with that part of
the country, I resolved to camp where I
was ; the evening was calm and beauti-
ful, the sky sparkled with stars which
were reflected by the smooth waters, and
the deep shade of the rocks and trees of
the opposite shore fell on the bosom of
the stream, while gently from afar came
on the ear the muttering sound of the
cataract. My little fire was soon lighted
under a rock, and, spreading out my
scanty stock of provisions, I reclined on
my grassy couch. As I looked on the
fading features of the beautiful land-
scape, my heart turned towards my dis-
tant home, where my friends were doubt-
less wishing me, as I wish them, a happy
night and peaceful slumbers. Then were
heard the barkings of the watch dog, and
I tapped my faithful companion to pre-
vent his answering them. The thoughts

122 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

of my worldly mission then came over
my mind, and having thanked the Crea-
tor of all for his never-failing mercy, I
closed my eyes, and was passing away
into the world of dreaming existence,
when suddenly there burst on my soul the
serenade of the Rosebreasted bird, so rich,
so mellow, so loud in the stillness of the
night, that sleep fled from my eyelids.
Never did I enjoy music more: it
thrilled through my heart, and sur-
rounded me with an atmosphere of bliss.
One might easily have imagined that
even the Owl, charmed by such delight-
ful music, remained reverently silent.
Long after the sounds ceased did I enjoy
them, and when all had again become
still, I stretched out my wearied limbs,
and gave myself up to the luxury of re-
pose.’?

Probably most of the seventy-five or
eighty copies of ‘‘Birds’’ which were
taken by subscribers in this country are
still extant, held by the great libraries,

.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 123

and learned institutions. The Lenox
Library in New York owns three sets.
The Astor Library owns one set. I
have examined this work there; there
are four volumes in a set; they are
elephant folio size—more than three
feet long, and two or more feet wide.
They are the heaviest books I ever
handled. It takes two men to carry one
volume to the large racks which hold
them for the purpose of examination.
The birds, of which there are a thousand
and fifty-five specimens in four hundred
and thirty-five plates, are all life size,
even the great eagles, and appear to be
unfaded. This work, which cost the
original subscribers one thousand dol-
lars, now brings four thousand dollars
at private sale.

Of the edition with reduced figures
and with the bird biographies, many
more were sold, and all considerable
public libraries in this country possess
the work. It consists of seven imperial

4

124 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

octavo volumes. Five hundred dollars is
the average price which this work brings.
This was a copy of the original English
publication, with the figures reduced and
lithographed. In this work, his sons,
John and Victor, greatly assisted him,
the former doing the reducing by the
aid of the camera-lucida, and the latter
attending to the printing and publishing.
The first volume of this work appeared
in 1840, and the last in 1844.

Audubon experimented a long time
before he hit upon a satisfactory method
of drawing his birds. Early in his
studies he merely drew them in out-
line. Then he practised using threads
to raise the head, wing or tail of his
specimen. Under David he had learned
to draw the human figure from a mani-
kin. It now occurred to him to make
a manikin of a bird, using cork or wood,
or wires for the purpose. But his bird
manikin only excited the laughter and
ridicule of his friends. Then he con-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 125

ceived the happy thought of setting up
the body of the dead bird by the aid
of wires, very much as a taxidermist
mounts them. This plan worked well
and enabled him to have his birds per-
manently before him in a characteristic
attitude: ‘The bird fixed with wires on
squares I studied as a lay figure before
me, its nature previously known to me
as far as habits went, and its general
form having been perfectly observed.’’

His bird pictures reflect his own
temperament, not to say his nation-
ality ; the birds are very demonstra-
tive, even theatrical and melodramatic
at times. In some cases this is all right,
in others it is all wrong. Birds differ
in this respect as much as people do—
some are very quiet and sedate, others
pose and gesticulate like a Frenchman.
It would not be easy to exaggerate, for
instance, the flashings and evolutions of
the redstart when it arrives in May,
or the acting and posing of the catbird,

126 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

or the gesticulations of the yellow
breasted chat, or the nervous and em-
phatic character of the large-billed
water thrush, or the many pretty atti-
tudes of the great Carolina wren; but
to give the same dramatic character to
the demure little song sparrow, or to the
slow moving cuckoo, or to the pedestrian
cowbird, or to the quiet Kentucky
warbler, as Audubon has done, is to
convey @ wrong impression of these
birds.

Wilson errs, if at all, in the other
direction. His birds, on the other hand,
reflect his cautious, undemonstrative
Scotch nature. Few of them are shown
in violent action like Audubon’s cuckoo ;
their poses for the most part are easy
and characteristic. His drawings do
not show the mastery of the subject
and the versatility that Audubon’s do;
—they have not the artistic excellence,
but they less frequently do violence to
the )bird’s character by exaggerated
activity.

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 127

The colouring in Audubon’s birds is
also often exaggerated. His purple
finch is as brilliant as a rose, whereas
at its best, this bird is a dull carmine.

Either the Baltimore oriole has
changed its habits of nest-building since
Audubon’s day, or else he was wrong in
his drawing of the nest of that bird, in
making the opening on the side near the
top. I have never seen an oriole’s nest
that was not open at the top.

In his drawings of a group of robins,
one misses some of the most characteristic
poses of that bird, while some of the at-
titudes that are portrayed are not
common and familiar ones.

But in the face of all that he accom-
plished, and against such odds, and tak-
ing into consideration also the changes
that may have crept in through engraver
and colourists, itill becomes us to indulge
in captious criticisms. Let us rather re-
peat Audubon’s own remark on realising
how far short his drawings came of rep-

128 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

resenting the birds themselves: ‘ After
all, there’s nothing perfect but primi-
tiveness.’

Finding that he could not live in the
city, in 1842 Audubon removed with his
family to ‘‘ Minnie’s Land,”’ on the banks
of the Hudson, now known as Audubon
Park, and included in the city limits ;
this became his final home.

In the spring of 1843 he started on his
last long journey, his trip to the Yellow-
stone River, of which we have a minute
account in his ‘‘Missouri River Jour-
nals’? documents that lay hidden in
the back of an old secretary from 1843
to the time when they were found by
his grand-daughters in 1896, and pub-
lished by them in 1897.

This trip was undertaken mainly in
the interests of the Quadrupeds and
Biography of American Quadrupeds, and
much of what he saw and did is woven
into those three volumes. The trip
lasted eight months, and the hardships

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 129

and exposures seriously affected Audu-
bon’s health. He returned home in
October, 1843.

He was now sixty-four or five years
of age, and the infirmities of his years
began to steal upon him.

The first volume of his ‘‘ Quadrupeds’’
was published about two years later, and
this was practically his last work. The
second and third volumes were mainly
the work of his sons, John and Victor.

The ‘‘Quadrupeds’’ does not take rank
with his ‘‘Birds.’? It was not his first
love. It was more an after thought to
fill up his time. Neither the drawing
nor the colouring of the animals, largely
the work of his son John, approaches
those of the birds.

“Surely no man ever had _ better
helpers’’ says his grand-daughter, and a
study of his life brings us to the same
conclusion —his devoted wife, his able
and willing sons, were his closest helpers,
nor do we lose sight of the assistance of

130 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

the scientific and indefatigable MacGilli-
vray, and the untiring and congenial
co-worker, Dr. Bachman.

Audubon’s last years were peaceful
and happy, and were passed at his
home on the Hudson, amid his children
and grandchildren, surrounded by the
scenes that he loved.

After his eyesight began to fail him,
his devoted wife read to him, she walked
with him, and toward the last she fed
him, ‘‘ Bread and milk were his break-
fast and supper, and at noon he ate a
little fish or game, never having eaten
animal food if he could avoid it.’’

One visiting at the home of our natu-
ralist during his last days speaks of the
tender way in which he said to his wife:
‘“¢Well, sweetheart, always busy. Come
sit thee down a few minutes and rest.”’

Parke Godwin visited Audubon in
1846, and gives this account of his
visit :

‘‘The house was simple and unpre-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 131
tentious in its architecture, and beau-
tifully embowered amid elms and oaks.
Several graceful fawns, and a noble
elk, were stalking in the shade of the
trees, apparently unconscious of the
presence of a few dogs, and not caring
for the numerous turkeys, geese, and
other domestic animals that gabbled
and screamed around them. Nor did
my own approach startle the wild,
beautiful creatures, that seemed as
docile as any of their tame compan-
ions.

“¢Ts the master at home?’ I asked
of a pretty maid servant, who answered
my tap at the door; and who, after in-
forming me that he was, led me into a
room on the left side of the broad hall.
It was not, however, a parlour, or an or-
dinary reception room that I entered,
but evidently a room for work. In one
corner stood a painter’s easel, with the
half-finished sketch of a beaver on
the paper; in the other lay the skin

132 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

of an American panther. The antlers
of elks hung upon the walls; stuffed
birds of every description of gay plu-
mage ornamented the mantel-piece ; and
exquisite drawings of field mice, orioles,
and woodpeckers, were scattered promis-
cuously in other parts of the room, across
one end of which a long, rude table was
stretched to hold artist materials, scraps
of drawing paper, and immense folio
volumes, filled with delicious paintings
of birds taken in their native haunts.
‘¢¢Mhis,? said I to myself, ‘is the
studio of the naturalist,’ but hardly
had the thought escaped me when the
master himself made his appearance.
He was a tall thin man, with a high-
arched and serene forehead, and a
bright penetrating grey eye; his white
locks fell in clusters upon his shoulders,
but were the only signs of age, for his
form was erect, and his step as light as
that of a deer. The expression of his
face was sharp, but noble and com-

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 133

manding, and there was something in
it, partly derived from the aquiline
nose and partly from the shutting of
the mouth, which made you think of the
imperial eagle.

‘(His greeting as he entered, was at
once frank and cordial, and showed you
the sincere true man. ‘Howkind it is,’
he said, with a slight French accent and
in @ pensive tone, ‘to come to see me;
and how wise, too, to leave that crazy
city.’ He then shook me warmly by
the hand. ‘Do you know,’ he contin-
ued, ‘how I wonder that men can con-
sent to swelter and fret their lives away
amid those hot bricks and pestilent va-
pours, when the woods and fields are all
so near? It would kill me soon to be
confined in such a prison house; and
when I am forced to make an occasional
visit there, it fills me with loathing
and sadness. Ah! how often, when I
have been abroad on the mountains,
has my heart risen in grateful praise to

134 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

God that it was not my destiny to waste
and pine among those noisome congre-
gations of the city.’ ”’

Another visitor to Audubon during
his last days writes: ‘‘In my interview
with the naturalist, there were several
things that stamped themselves indelibly
on my mind. The wonderful simplicity
of the man was perhaps the most re-
markable. His enthusiasm for facts
made him unconscious of himself. To
make him happy you had only to give
him a new fact in natural history, or
introduce him toa rare bird. His self-
forgetfulness was very impressive. I
felt that I had found a man who asked
homage for God and Nature, and not
for himself.

“The unconscious greatness of the man
seemed only equalled by his child-like
tenderness. The sweet unity between his
wife and himself, as they turned over the
original drawings of his birds, and re-
called the circumstances of the drawings,

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 135

some of which had been made when she
was with him ; her quickness of percep-
tion, and their mutual enthusiasm re-
garding these works of his heart and
hand, and the tenderness with which
they unconsciously treated each other,
all was impressed upon my memory.
Ever since, I have been convinced that
Audubon owed more to his wife than the
world knew, or ever would know. That
she was always a reliance, often a help,
and ever a sympathising sister-soul to
her noble husband, was fully apparent
to me.’’

One notes much of the same fire and
vigour in the later portraits of Audubon,
that are so apparent in those of him in
his youthful days. What a resolute
closing of the mouth in his portrait taken
of him in his old age — ‘‘ the magnificent
grey-haired man !”’

In 1847, Audubon’s mind began to
fail him ; like Emerson in his old age,
he had difficulty in finding the right
word.

136 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

In May, 1848, Dr. Bachman wrote
of him: ‘‘My poor friend Audubon!
The outlines of his beautiful face and
form are there, but his noble mind is all
in ruins.’’

His feebleness increased (there was
no illness), till at sunset, January 27,
1851, in his seventy-sixth year, the
“American Woodsman,’’ as he was
wont to call himself, set out on his last
long journey to that bourne whence no
traveller returns.

Vv.

As a youth Audubon was an unwill-
ing student of books; as a merchant and
mill owner in Kentucky he was an un-
willing man of business, but during his
whole career, at all times and in all
places, he was more than a willing
student of ornithology—he was an
eager and enthusiastic one. He brought
to the pursuit of the birds, and to the
study of open air life generally, the
keen delight of the sportsman, united
to the ardour of the artist moved by
beautiful forms.

He was not in the first instance a man
of science, like Cuvier, or Agassiz, or
Darwin —a man seeking exact knowl-
edge ; but he was an artist and a back-
woodsman, seeking adventure, seeking
the gratification of his tastes, and to put
on record his love of the birds. He was
the artist of the birds before he was their
historian ; the writing of their biogra-

138 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

phies seems to have been only secondary
with him.

He had the lively mercurial tempera-
ment of the Latin races from which he
sprang. He speaks of himself as ‘‘ warm,
irascible, and at times violent.’’

His perceptive powers, of course, led
his reflective. His sharpness and quick-
ness of eye surprised even the Indians.
He says: ‘‘My observatory nerves never
gave way.’’

His similes and metaphors were
largely drawn from the animal world. ”
Thus he says, ‘‘I am as dull as a beetle,’’
during his enforced stay in London.
While he was showing his drawings to
Mr. Rathbone, he says: ‘‘I was panting
like the wingéd pheasant.’’ At a din-
ner in some noble house in England he
said that the men servants ‘‘moved as
quietly as killdeers.”’ On another oc-
casion, when the hostess failed to put
him at his ease: ‘‘There I stood, mo-
tionless as a Heron.’’

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 139

With all his courage and buoyancy,
Audubon was subject to fits of depres-
sion, probably the result largely of his
enforced separation from his family.
On one occasion in Edinburgh he speaks
of these attacks, and refers pathetically
to others he had had: ‘‘ But that was in
beloved America, where the ocean did
not roll between me and my wife and
sons.’’

Never was amore patriotic American.
He loved his adopted country above all
other lands in which he had journeyed.

Never was a more devoted husband,
and never did wife more richly deserve
such devotion than did Mrs. Audubon.
He says of her: ‘‘She felt the pangs of
our misfortune perhaps more heavily
than I, but never for an hour lost her
courage ; her brave and cheerful spirit
accepted all, and no reproaches from her
beloved lips ever wounded my heart.
With her was I not always rich?’’

‘“‘The waiting time, my brother, is the

hardest time of all.’’

140 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

While Audubon was waiting for better
luck, or for worse, he was always listen-
ing to the birds and studying them —
storing up the knowledge that he turned
to such good account later: but we can
almost hear his neighbours and ac-
quaintances calling him an ‘‘idle, worth-
less fellow.’’ Not so his wife; she had
even more faith in him than he had in
himself.

His was a lovable nature — he won af-
fection and devotion easily, and he loved
to be loved; he appreciated the least
kindness shown him.

He was always at ease and welcome
in the squatter’s cabin or in elegantly
appointed homes, like that of his friends,
the Rathbones, though he does complain
of an awkwardness and shyness some-
times when in high places. This, how-
ever, seemed to result from the pomp
and ceremony found there, and not
because of the people themselves.

‘‘Chivalrous, generous, and courteous

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON 141

to his heart’s core,’’ says his grand-
daughter, ‘‘he could not believe others
less so, till painful experiences taught
him; then he was grieved, hurt, but
never imbittered ; and, more marvellous
yet, with his faith in his fellows as strong
as ever, again and again he subjected
himself to the same treatment.”’

On one occasion when his pictures
were on exhibition in England, some one
stole one of his paintings, and a warrant
was issued againstadeaf mute. ‘‘Gladly
would I have painted abird for the poor
fellow,’’ said Audubon, ‘‘and I certainly
did not want him arrested.”’

He was never, even in his most des-
perate financial straits, too poor to help
others more poor than himself.

He had a great deal of the old-fash-
ioned piety of our fathers, which crops
out abundantly in his pages. While he
was visiting a Mr. Bently in Manchester,
and after retiring to his room for the
night, he was surprised by a knock at his

142 JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

door. It appeared that his host in pass-
ing thought he heard Audubon call to
him to ask for something: ‘‘I told him
I prayed aloud every night, as had been
my habit from a child at my mother’s
knees in Nantes. He said nothing for
a moment, then again wished me good
night and was gone.’’

Audubon belonged to the early history
of the country, to the pioneer times, to
the South and the West, and was, on the
whole, one of the most winsome, inter-
esting, and picturesque characters that °
have ever appeared in our annals.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

The works of Audubon are mentioned
in the chronology at the beginning of
the volume and in the text. Of the
writings about him the following — apart
from the obvious books of reference in
American biography—are the main
sources of information : —

I. PROSE WRITINGS OF AMERICA. By
Rufus Wilmot Griswold. (Philadelphia,
1847 : Carey & Hart. )

Ii. Brier BIoGRAPHIES. By Samuel
Smiles. (Boston, 1861: Ticknor &
Fields. )

III. AUDUBON, THE NATURALIST OF
THE NEW WORLD: HIS ADVENTURES
AND DISCOVERIES. By Mrs. Horace
Roseoe Stebbing St. John. (Revised,
with additions. Boston, 1864: Crosby
& Nichols. New York, 1875: The
World Publishing House.)

144 BIBLIOGRAPHY

IV. THe Lire AND ADVENTURES OF
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON, THE NATURAL-
ist. Edited, from materials supplied
by his widow, by Robert Buchanan.
(London, 1868: 8. Low, son & Mars-
ton.)

V. Tue Lire oF JOHN JAMES AU-
DUBON. Edited by his widow, with
an Introduction by James Grant Wilson.
(New York, 1869: Putnams. )

VI. Famous MEN oF ScIENCE. B
Sarah Knowles Bolton. (Boston, 1889:
T. Y. Crowell & Co.)

VII. AUDUBON AND HIS JOURNALS.
By Maria R. Audubon. With Zodlogi-
cal and Other Notes by Elliott Coues,
(New York, 1897: Charles Scribner’s
Sons. Two volumes.) This is by far
the most interesting and authentic of
any of the sources of information.

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