Transcriber's Note:

Obvious typographical errors in the editor's text have been corrected. Inconsistent or incorrect accents, spelling, capitalization, and punctuation in the original documents and quotes were left as printed.

• On [page 28], "aimable" should possibly be "amiable".
• On [page 40], "as taken umbrage" should possibly be "has taken umbrage".
• On [page 58], "Chamley, of New Castle" should possibly be "Charnley of Newcastle".
• On [page 100], "Mr. A." should possibly be "Mrs. A".
• On [page 233] "youself" should possibly be "yourself".
• On [page 418] "pp. 197*-204*" should possibly not have asterisks.
• "£##" and "##£" are used interchangeably (with and without spacing.)
• The same is true for "$##" and "##$".
• "Major Glassel" ([page 7]) and "Major Classel" ([page 24]) appear to be the same person.

[Some references in the Index are incorrect.]

• No entry exists for "Coral snake".
• The entry for ["Audubon parentage and early names"] is missing a page reference.

This is the second volume of a two volume work. Linked cross-references to Volume I are designed to work when the book is read on line.

Download Vol. I from [http://www.gutenberg.org/files/58983/58983-h/58983-h.htm]

Download Vol. II from [http://www.gutenberg.org/files/58984/58984-h/58984-h.htm]

AUDUBON
THE
NATURALIST

John J. Audubon

AFTER PORTRAIT BY GEORGE P. A. HEALY, 1838; ORIGINAL IN POSSESSION OF THE BOSTON SOCIETY OF NATURAL HISTORY.

AUDUBON
THE
NATURALIST

A HISTORY OF HIS LIFE AND TIME

BY
FRANCIS HOBART HERRICK, Ph.D., Sc.D.
PROFESSOR OF BIOLOGY IN WESTERN RESERVE UNIVERSITY;
AUTHOR OF "THE HOME LIFE OF WILD BIRDS," ETC.

IN TWO VOLUMES
ILLUSTRATED

VOLUME II

D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
NEW YORK LONDON
1917

Copyright, 1917, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY

Printed in the United States of America

CONTENTS OF VOLUME II

ILLUSTRATIONS IN VOLUME II

AUDUBON
THE
NATURALIST

SONNET

TO J. J. AUDUBON, ESQ., ON BEHOLDING HIS DRAWINGS.

Is there delight in Nature's solitudes,

Her dark green woods, and fragrant wilderness,

In scenes, where seldom human step intrudes,

And she is in her wildest, loveliest dress?

Is there delight in her uncultured flowers,

Each ripened bloom or bright unfolding dye,

Or in the tribes which animate her bowers,

And through her groves in living beauty fly?

Then, on thy canvas as they move and live,

While taste and genius guide the fair design,

And all the charms which Nature's works can give

With equal radiance in thy colours shine;

Amidst the praise thy country's sons extend,

The stranger's voice its warm applause shall blend.

J. E. R. [Jane Elizabeth Roscoe].

The Winter's Wreath, 1832.

AUDUBON
THE
NATURALIST

CHAPTER XXVI
EXPLORATIONS IN FLORIDA AND THE SOUTH ATLANTIC

Obituary published in London on day of his arrival in New York—Assistance from the Government—John Bachman becomes his friend—Winter in Charleston—His folios as gifts—To Florida with two assistants—Letters to Featherstonhaugh—St. Augustine—Misadventures in the mud of East Florida—Audubon on Florida's future—At the sources of the St. John's—Aboard the Marion—Return from Key West—A merchant of Savannah—Disbanding of party at Charleston.

In the summer of 1831 Audubon felt that he must again return to America and extend his researches to the north, south and west, as well as begin a campaign for subscribers in the United States. His large folio was now running into its second volume, and the first installment of his text had been published; the time was favorable to his plans, and he hoped to remain in the country two or three years.

For the second time the publication of his plates was entrusted to friend Children, and with Mrs. Audubon he set sail for New York on August 2, 1831. From the American metropolis he wrote to Joseph B. Kidd on September 7 as follows:[1]

We landed on the 3d ... [of September] after a remarkably fine passage of 33 days. In two days more I proceed to the woods, and away from white man's tracks and manners. I hope you are going on well with your work.... I have a new subscriber here. The papers and scientific journals (we have not many,) are singing the praises of my work, and, God willing, I may yet come out at the broad end of the horn; at all events, I will either break it or make a spoon! I shot sixteen birds on the passage, which I got through the kind attention of our commander. I killed fifty more, when the "Columbia" was going too fast to stop for the purpose of picking them up. My young man is now busily engaged in skinning, and killed a bag-full of warblers yesterday ... prices of peaches, first quality, 75 cents per bushel,—apples, half that price;—water melons are dull of sale, as also cantelopes and nutmeg melons. Fish alive in the markets, and, vive la joie, no taxes on shooting or fishing."

What Audubon actually did was to proceed to Philadelphia, where Mrs. Audubon left him to visit her sons in Louisville, and where he laid his plans for exploring the Southern States, especially the islands and eastern coast of the Florida peninsula. For this expedition he engaged two assistants, one of whom was Henry Ward, the "young man" mentioned above, an Englishman who had come with him to America as taxidermist, while the other was George Lehman, a Swiss landscape painter whom he seems to have found at Philadelphia. With them he soon started for Washington to obtain assistance from the Government.

On the very day that Audubon landed in New York, there appeared in the London Literary Gazette a serio-comic notice under the title of "Wilson the Ornithologist," who, it may be remembered, had died in Philadelphia eighteen years before. Said the editor of the Gazette:

We observe with sorrow an account of the death and burial of poor Wilson, somewhere in the state of Philadelphia, even while the Edinburgh journals are anticipating his return, laden with scientific treasures. We have now before us No. 1 of his Illustrations of American Ornithology, on a reduced scale, to sort with Professor Jameson's edition—a pretty and attractive publication. The coloured prints are extremely correct and well done.

When on September 8 the Edinburgh Caledonian Mercury had called attention to this egregious blunder regarding Wilson, the Gazette explained that his name had been confused with that of Audubon, whose obituary presently appeared in its issue of October 29, the editor remarking that this naturalist's death was equally, if not more, to be deplored than that of Wilson. Captain Brown then sent to the Caledonian Mercury Audubon's letter to Kidd, quoted above, which was written from New York four days after the naturalist's death was announced in England. "What is the editor of the Literary Gazette about," exclaimed a writer in the Edinburgh paper; "he first resuscitates a man who has been dead 18 years, only to kill him again, and then, by way of correcting his error, kills another, who is now clearly proved to have been alive and well several days after the date of his obituary in London."

As was often the case, Audubon's ambitious hopes for exploring the continent far outran his means and powers of accomplishment. Colonel John James Abert, whose counsel he sought in Washington at this time; said:[2] "His plan is first to examine the peninsula of Florida; then the regions west of the Mississippi, Mexico, and if possible penetrate into California. He also contemplates crossing the Rocky Mountains and pursuing the Columbia River to its mouth, and thinks that he will be absent from us about two years." In November G. W. Featherstonhaugh, the geologist, also made this announcement in his Monthly American Journal of Geology and Natural Science:

We are authorized to state that information of the progress of Mr. Audubon will be given, from time to time, to the scientific world, in the pages of this journal.

We are gratified in being able to state, that he was received in the most cordial manner, at Washington, and that the distinguished gentlemen in authority there, have given him such letters to the military posts on the frontiers, as will assure him the aid and protection his personal safety may require. We anticipate the most interesting reconnaisances, both geological and zoölogical, from this enterprising naturalist, who is accompanied by Mr. Lehman, as an assistant draftsman, and by an assistant collector who came with him from Europe.

The "distinguished gentlemen" at Washington who particularly aided Audubon at this time, besides Colonel Abert, were Edward Everett, Levi Woodbury, Secretary of the Navy, and Lewis McLane, Secretary of the Treasury. He was particularly anxious to obtain accommodation for his party aboard a government vessel, but it was some time before a suitable one was available. They left Washington about October 15, 1831, and went by steamer to Norfolk and Richmond, Virginia, where the Governor, John Floyd, whom Audubon had known in his Kentucky days, gave him numerous letters of introduction. At Charleston, their next stopping-place, he had hardly begun work in the field when he was sought out by the Rev. John Bachman, by inclination a naturalist of the old school and by profession a Lutheran minister, who at once took the whole party under his hospitable roof, where they remained a month. Thus began a life-long and almost ideal friendship between these two men, so unlike in character, in temperament and in training, which was quite as important to the modest German-American divine as to the impulsive Franco-American painter and student of birds. It was Audubon's infectious enthusiasm which kindled to an ardent flame that love of nature which was innate in Bachman, and which eventually brought his name and work to the attention of the scientific world.

Audubon remained at Charleston with the Bachmans until November 15, when the opportunity which they had awaited came suddenly, and they sailed for St. Augustine, Florida, on the government schooner Agnes. On that day Bachman wrote to Mrs. Audubon, in compliance "with a request of your kind and worthy husband, who laid an injunction on me this morning":[3]

The last has been one of the happiest months of my life. I was an enthusiastic admirer of nature from my boyhood, and fond of every branch of Natural History. Ornithology is, as a science, pursued by very few persons—and by none in this city. How gratifying was it, then, to become acquainted with a man, who knew more about birds than any man now living—and who, at the same time, was communicative, intelligent, and amiable, to an extent seldom found associated in the same individual. He has convinced me that I was but a novice in the study; and besides receiving many lessons from him in Ornithology, he has taught me how much can be accomplished by a single individual, who will unite enthusiasm with industry. For the short month he remained with my family, we were inseparable. We were engaged in talking about Ornithology—in collecting birds—in seeing them prepared, and in laying plans for the accomplishment of that great work which he has undertaken. Time passed rapidly away, and it seems but as yesterday since we met, and now, alas! he is already separated from me—and in all human probability we shall never meet again.... I need not inform you that Mr. Audubon was a general favorite in our city. His gentlemanly deportment, his travels and experience, his information and general talents, caused him to be sought after by all. But your husband knew that the great objects before him required his unremitted attention, and he was obliged to deny himself to his friends, on many occasions, and devoted to them only his evenings.

There seems quite a blank, in my house, since he has gone, for we looked on him as one of our family. He taught my sister, Maria, to draw birds; and she has now such a passion for it, that whilst I am writing, she is drawing a Bittern, put up for her at daylight by Mr. Audubon.

"BEECHGROVE," WILLIAM GARRETT JOHNSON'S PLANTATION HOUSE IN WEST FELICIANA PARISH, LOUISIANA, WHERE MRS. AUDUBON LIVED AND TAUGHT FOR TWO YEARS, 1827-1829.

After a photograph by Mr. Stanley Clisby Arthur, 1916.

JOHN BACHMAN'S HOUSE IN CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA.

After a photograph in possession of Mr. Ruthven Deane.

On December 23 Bachman wrote to Audubon: "Your visit to me gave me new life, induced me to go carefully over my favorite study, and made me and my family happy." His sister-in-law, Miss Maria Martin, who possessed considerable artistic talent, became one of Audubon's enthusiastic helpers, and not only drew birds for him but painted many of the flowers and insects which were later used for the embellishment of his plates. John Bachman's serious contributions to natural history also date from this visit. To repay him and his family for their hospitality, Audubon presented them with the first volume of The Birds of America, but the folio was not received until some time later; he was referring to this when he wrote to Bachman, just before sailing from New York, on April 5, 1834, and asked him to accept "the superbly bound book" from "your old Friend, in part atonement for the troubles I have given you, and the leatherings you may yet receive at my hands at chess." In a letter to Miss Martin, written also from New York on the following day, he said: "The Great Volume which Maj. Glassel did fortunately return into your hands, I give with all my heart to my valued friends, the Bachmans, and shall try to furnish them the sequel in like binding."[4]

Audubon scattered detached plates and numbers of his large work freely among his friends, and sometimes spoke of a gift of the whole. The costly nature of such a present in most cases, no doubt, led to a change of mind if not of heart, but not in all, for a number of his presentation copies still exist. One was given to David Eckley[5] of Boston, a noted sportsman who had aided Audubon in collecting materials for his work. In a letter written at Charleston, January 1, 1837, to young Thomas M. Brewer, Audubon said: "Please to call on my good friend David Eckley, Esq., present to him and to his family my very best regards, and ask of him whether he has collected any hawks or owls for me. If so, take them from him, and place them in the general receptacle of 'pale-faced rum.'" Another copy is said to be in possession of the Public Library of Manchester, England, and to have been bequeathed to that institution by the Earl of Crawford. A complete set of the Birds was also presented to his friends, the Rathbones of Liverpool, and is still in possession of the family.

We shall now return to our narrative and fulfill our promise of reproducing Audubon's own account of his journey from Richmond to Florida:[6]

Audubon to G. W. Featherstonhaugh

I am now seated in earnest to give you an unceremonious summary of my proceedings up to this time, since we left Richmond, in Virginia. As a geologist, I venture to suppose you would have been but indifferently amused, if you had been with us in our journey from this latter place to Charleston, in South Carolina; and as an ornithologist, I cannot boast of the enjoyment I found; poor coaches, dragged through immense, deserted pine forests, miserable fare, and neither birds nor quadrupeds to be seen. We at length approached Charleston, and the view of that city from across the bay was hailed by our party with unfeigned delight. Charmed, as we were, with having terminated our dreary journey, it did not occur to us to anticipate the extraordinary hospitality which awaited us there, and which led to a residence of a few of the happiest weeks I ever passed.

I had passed but one night in the city, when I was presented to the Rev. Mr. ——. This benevolent man, whom I am proud to call my friend would not suffer the "American Woodsman" to repose any where but under his roof; and not him alone—all his assistants too. When I tell you that he was an old friend of Alexander Wilson, that he shoots well, is an ornithologist, a philosophical naturalist, and that during the time we enjoyed his hospitality, he took us all over the country with his carriages and servants, in search of specimens, and that he was every thing a kind brother could be to me, you may suppose that it is with great sincerity I say, and ever shall say, God bless him! When I first saw this excellent man, he was on horseback, but upon my being named to him, he leaped from his saddle, suffered his horse to stand at liberty, and gave me his hand with a pressure of cordiality that electrified me. I saw in his eyes that all he said was good and true; and although he spoke of my labours in terms far exceeding what is due to them, I listened to him pretty well assured that he did not intend me to play the part of Gil Blas over again; for myself, my assistants, George Lehman and Henry Ward, were removed in a jiffy to his own mansion, introduced to the family, and at work the very next morning.

Although the weather was "shockingly hot," they prepared three hundred specimens, embracing about sixty land and water birds, and sent all the "pickled specimens to our mutual friend H——" [Dr. Harlan, of Philadelphia] for safe keeping until their return.

I jumped at once into my wood-hunting habits. All hands of us were up before day-break, and soon at work, either in the way of shooting, taking views, or drawing birds; after sunset—scribbling in our journals.... In the early part of November the alligators had gone into their winter quarters; the migratory birds were passing swiftly on towards the south, although we had had no frost. The planters considered the country as still unhealthy, and resorted to the city at night. If I had been governed by the practice and advice of many, I should not have put a foot in the mud, either salted or fresh; but difficulties of this character must be disregarded by the American woodsman, while success, or the hope of it, is before him.

It is impossible to do justice to the generous feelings of the Charlestonians, or to their extreme kindness towards me. Many of the gentlemen took the greatest interest in my pursuits; one, Dr. ——, presented me with an excellent New Foundland dog, and other valuable memorials of his regard. Another, Dr. ——, gave me a collection of shells, from the adjacent waters. The ladies presented me with a capital supply of snuff.[7] Desirous of going to Cole's Island, distant about 25 or 30 miles, to look after some marine birds, a boat, four hands and a pilot, were immediately offered to me, free of all expense, with the liberty to detain them as long as was agreeable to me. It is not possible for me to express properly the sense I feel of the kindness I received from that warm-hearted and intelligent people.

And now, as you have good naturedly listened to what I have felt bound to say on the score of gratitude, I will tell you what I know you are impatient to come to—something about my proceedings at Cole's Island. It lies south from Charleston about 25 or 30 miles; there we arrived and encamped for the night: certain beef-steaks we brought with us we roasted upon sticks, and the adjacent shore provided us with excellent oysters: gaiety, good appetites, and our hearts all right, made the time pass pleasantly, and it was with some reluctance we spread our blankets, and arranged the fire preparatory to going to rest. Nothing is more valuable to a naturalist, and particularly to an ornithologist, than the first hours of the day; therefore, long ere the sun had glowed over the broad sea that lay before our camp, we had reached another island where birds resort to roost by thousands; but, notwithstanding these multitudes, not a new species did we procure. We, however, had the pleasure of observing two noble "birds of Washington,"[8] sailing majestically over the broad watery face.

But it was necessary to bring my stay in Charleston to a close, and it was somewhat difficult too. My friends had increased in number; they were in the habit of accompanying me in my shooting excursions; I was becoming very much attached to them; invitations poured in from various parts of the country; and I really believe that had I been willing, we might have remained there and in the neighborhood, if not all our lives, at least as long as would have caused a rare scarcity of the feathered tribes, in that portion of the Carolinas. But my mind was among the birds farther south,—the Floridas, Red River, the Arkansas, that almost unknown country, California, and the Pacific ocean. I felt myself drawn to the untried scenes of those countries, and it was necessary to tear myself away from the kindest friends.

We embarked on the schooner Agnes; the wind was fair, and we hoisted all sails for the Floridas. Our passage was not short; the wind changed, and we put back into St. Simon's Island Bay. This was one of the few put backs in life of a fortunate kind for me. I made for the shore, met a gentleman on the beach, presented him my card, and was immediately invited to dinner. I visited his gardens, got into such agreeable conversation and quarters, that I was fain to think that I had landed on some one of those fairy islands said to have existed in the golden age. But this was not all; the owner of this hospitable mansion pressed me to stay a month with him, and subscribed to my Birds of America in the most gentlemanly manner. This was T. B. K., Esq.[9] But the wind shifted; I was sent for, and our voyage to St. Augustine resumed.

St. Augustine, whatever it may have been, is far from being a flourishing place now. It lies at the bottom of a bay, extremely difficult of access, even for vessels of light draft, which seldom reach the "city" in less than a day. I cannot say much for the market, nor for the circumjacent country. Oranges and plenty of good fish seem to contribute the wealth of the place. Sands, poor pine forests, and impenetrable thickets of cactus and palmettos form the undergrowth. Birds are rare, and very shy; and with all our exertions, we have not collected one hundred skins in a fortnight that we have been here. I have received many kind attentions, and numerous invitations to visit plantations, on our way to the south, where I shall direct my steps in a few days. I have drawn seventeen species, among which one mongrel vulture, which I think will prove new. You will see it, I hope, very soon.

I will give you a sketch of our manner of passing the time. We are up before day, and our toilette is soon made. If the day is to be spent at drawing, Lehman and I take a walk, and Ward, his gun, dog, and basket, returning when hungry or fatigued, or both. We draw uninterruptedly till dusk, after which, another walk, then write up journals, and retire to rest early. When we have nothing on hand to draw, the guns are cleaned over night, a basket of bread and cheese, a bottle with old whiskey, and some water, is prepared. We get into a boat, and after an hour of hard rowing, we find ourselves in the middle of most extensive marshes, as far as the eye can reach. The boat is anchored, and we go wading through mud and water, amid myriads of sand-flies and mosquitoes, shooting here and there a bird, or squatting down on our hams for half an hour, to observe the ways of the beautiful beings we are in pursuit of. This is the way in which we spend the day. At the approach of evening, the cranes, herons, pelicans, curlews, and the trains of blackbirds are passing high over our heads, to their roosting places; then we also return to ours. If some species are to draw the next day, and the weather is warm, they are outlined that same evening, to save them from incipient putridity. I have ascertained that feathers lose their brilliancy almost as rapidly as flesh or skin itself, and am of opinion that a bird alive is 75 per cent more rich in colours than twenty-four hours after its death; we therefore skin those first which have been first killed, and the same evening. All this, added to our other avocations, brings us into the night pretty well fatigued. Such, my dear friend, is the life of an active naturalist; and such, in my opinion, it ought to be. It is nonsense ever to hope to see in the closet what is only to be perceived—as far as the laws, arrangements and beauties of ornithological nature is concerned,—by that devotion of time, opportunities, and action, to which I have consecrated my life, not without hope that science may benefit by my labours.

As to geology, my dear Friend, you know as well as myself, that I am not in the country for that. The instructions you gave me are very valuable, and I shall be vigilant. The aspect of the country will soon begin to change, and as I proceed, I will write to you about all we see and do.... Do not be afraid of my safety; I take a reasonable care of my health and life. I know how to guard against real difficulties, and I have no time to attend to that worst of all kinds of difficulties,—imaginary ones. Circumstances never within my control, threw me upon my own resources, at a very early period of my life. I have grown up in the school of adversity, and am not an unprofitable scholar there, having learnt to be satisfied with providing for my family and myself by my own exertions. The life I lead is my vocation, full of smooth and rough paths, like every vocation which men variously try. My physical constitution has always been good, and the fine flow of spirits I have, has often greatly assisted me in some of the most trying passages of my life. I know I am engaged in an arduous undertaking; but if I live to complete it, I will offer to my country a beautiful monument of the varied splendour of American nature, and of my devotion to American ornithology.

John James Audubon.

Ther., this day, at 2 p. m.,
78° Fahr.

On the following day, December 8, 1831, Audubon sent the following request to Dr. Harlan of Philadelphia: "I wish you also to send me—to Key West—, 20 more pounds of powdered arsenic from Friend Wetherell's shop,[10] and also a double barelled gun of usual length, as good as you can procure for 30 dollars; probably a second hand one may be procured; it must be percussion and, if possible, back action." Dr. Richard Harlan, who often transmitted to Mrs. Audubon any news which came direct from her husband, wrote to her on December 10, 1831, as follows:[11]

I have just recd a letter from Mr Aud—dated St. Augustine Nov. 24th they enjoy health amidst their fatiguing avocations—has obtained another subscriber, living on St. Simons island named Tho. Butler King—to whom I am to send the work as soon as the Copies exported arrive from London—he has good expectations of adding some new birds to his list—have you seen the Sonnet addressed to Mr Aud. in the "Wreath" a London annual for 1832?—under the signature of J. E. R?—our newspapers announce the arrival, departure & progress of Mr Audubon, as if he was an Embassador—and so he is, one of Natures——

The winter season at St. Augustine proved unfavorable for the naturalist's work, and he anxiously awaited the coming of the government vessel, the Spark, to the commander of which he bore letters from Washington. After spending about three weeks in the neighborhood of the city, the party proceeded through the inlet which divides Anastasia Island from the mainland, to the plantation of General Hernandez, thirty-five miles distant, where they were entertained for ten days. On Christmas morning they set out afoot for the plantation of John Bulow, of Bulowville, fifteen miles away. To follow the naturalist's account:

A wagon was sent for our baggage and horses for ourselves were offered at the same time, but it was not my desire to give unnecessary trouble, and above all upon an occasion when I was glad to see the country in as much detail as possible, and anxious to avail myself of every occasion to get new birds.

During the whole long stay with Mr. Bulow, there was no abatement of his kindness, or his unremitted efforts to make me comfortable, and to promote my researches. I shall ever feel grateful to one of the most deserving and generous of men.

On December 28 their host proposed that they should descend the Halifax River in search of new and valuable birds to a point about forty miles from that place and eighty miles from St. Augustine.[12]

Accordingly, the boat, six hands, and "three white men," with some provisions, put off with a fair wind, and a pure sky.... We meandered down a creek for about eleven miles—the water torpid yet clear—the shore lined with thousands of acres covered by fall grapes, marshes, and high palm trees, rendering the shore quite novel to my anxious eye. Some birds were shot, and secured so as to be brought back, in order to undergo the skinning operation. Before long we entered the Halifax river, an inland arm of the sea, measuring in breadth from a quarter to nearly a mile.

They reached a spot, called "Live Oak Landing," where a schooner from New York was then anchored, and there passed the night.

At sunrise the next morning, I and four negro servants proceeded in search of birds and adventures. The fact is, that I was anxious to kill some 25 brown Pelicans ... to enable me to make a new drawing of an adult male bird, and to procure the dresses of the others. I proceeded along a narrow, shallow bay, where the fish were truly abundant. Would you believe it, if I were to say, that the fish nearly obstructed our head-way? Believe it, or not, so it was; the waters were filled with them, large and small. I shot some rare birds, and putting along the shore, passed a point, when lo, I came in sight of several hundred pelicans, perched on the branches of mangrove trees, seated in comfortable harmony, as near each other as the strength of the boughs would allow. I ordered to back water gently; the hands backed water. I waded to the shore under cover of the rushes along it, saw the pelecans fast asleep, examined their countenances and deportment well and leisurely, and after all, levelled, fired my piece, and dropped two of the finest specimens I ever saw. I really believe I would have shot one hundred of these reverend sirs, had not a mistake taken place in the reloading of my gun. A mistake, however, did take place, and to my utmost disappointment, I saw each pelecan, old and young, leave his perch, and take to wing, soaring off, well pleased, I dare say, at making so good an escape from so dangerous a foe.

After shooting more birds, and pushing or pulling their boat "over oyster banks sharp as razors," they made the schooner at the landing again. "The birds, generally speaking," he continues, "appeared wild and few—you must be aware that I call birds few, when I shoot less than one hundred per day."

Such remarks as we have just quoted might convey the impression that the American woodsman, with whose name the cause of bird protection is now associated in this country, was a reckless destroyer of all bird life, but this was far from the case. It must be remembered that this was over eighty years ago, when the unrivaled abundance of our birds was such that the necessity of their conservation had hardly entered the dreams of the most discerning. Audubon no doubt had gradually yielded to the prevalent mania for describing and figuring new species, and to make out all the minute specific differences a large series of specimens was necessary; still more were needed for the detection of individual variation, which did not escape him, and much less his assistant, William MacGillivray, who demanded large numbers for his anatomical studies. Furthermore, Audubon counted upon defraying a part of his expenses by collections of skins of American birds, which were then desiderata among the museums of Europe.[13]

When it was proposed that they should return,

preparations were accordingly made, and we left the schooner, with tide and wind in our teeth, and with the prospect of a severe, cold night. Our hands pulled well, and our bark was as light as our hearts. All went on merrily until dark night came on. The wind freshening, the cold augmenting, the provisions diminishing, the waters lowering, all—all depreciating except our enterprising dispositions. We found ourselves fast in the mud about 300 yards from a marshy shore, without the least hope of being able to raise a fire, for no trees except palm trees were near, and the grand diable himself could not burn one of them. Our minds were soon made up to do—what? Why, to roll ourselves in our cloaks, and lay down, the best way we could, at the bottom of our light and beautiful barque. Good God, what a night! To sleep was impossible; the cold increased with the breeze, and every moment seemed an hour, from the time we stretched ourselves down until the first glimpse of the morn; but the morn came, clear as ever morn was, and the north-easter as cold as ever wind blew in this latitude. All hands half dead, and masters as nearly exhausted as the hands—stiffened with cold, light-clothed, and but slight hope of our nearing any shore; our only resort was, to leap into the mire, waste-deep, and to push the barque to a point, some five hundred or six hundred yards, where a few scrubby trees seem to have grown to save our lives on this occasion. "Push, boys, push! Push for your lives!", cry the generous Bulow, and the poor Audubon.—"All hands push!" Aye and well might we push: the mire was up to our breasts, our limbs becoming stiffened at every step we took. Our progress was slowly performed as if we had been clogged with heavy chains. It took us two and a half hours to reach the point, where the few trees of which I have spoken were; but, thank God, we did get there.

We landed ... and well it was that we did; for on reaching the margin of the marsh, two of the negroes fell down in the marsh, as senseless as torpidity ever rendered an alligator, or a snake; and had we, the white men, not been there, they certainly would have died. We had carried them into the little grove, to which, I believe, all of us owe our lives. I struck a fire in a crack; and, in five minutes, I saw, with indescribable pleasure, the bright, warming blaze in a log pile in the center of our shivering party. We wrapped the negroes in their blankets—boiled some water, and soon had some tea—made them swallow it, and with care revived them into animation. May God preserve you from being ever in the condition of our party at this juncture; scarcely a man able to stand, and the cold wind blowing as keenly as ever. Our men, however, gradually revived—the trees, one after another, fell under the hatchet, and increased our fire—and in two hours I had the pleasure of seeing cheerful faces again.

Their predicament, however, was still serious, for, to continue the narrative, they were

confined in a large salt marsh, with rushes head high, and miry; no provisions left, and fifteen miles from the house of their host.

Not a moment was to be lost, for I foresaw that the next night would prove much colder still. The boat was manned once more, and off through the mud we moved to double the point, and enter the creek, of which I have spoken, with the hope that in it we should find water enough to float her. It did happen so, thank God! As we once more saw our barque afloat, our spirits rose,—and rose to such a pitch that we in fun set fire to the whole marsh: crack, crack, crack! went the reeds, with a rapid blaze. We saw the marsh rabbits, scampering from the fire by the thousands, as we pulled our oars.

Their pleasure in being afloat was short-lived, for "the northeaster had well nigh emptied the creek of its usual quantum of water," and they were again obliged to wade to effect a landing, their object being to gain the east Florida coast and thus make their escape. This was finally attained after abandoning their boat, when began a long tramp on the beach, in the teeth of the wind,

through sand that sent our feet back six inches at every step of two feet that we made. Well, through this sand we all waded, for many a long mile, picking up here and there a shell that is nowhere else to be found, until we reached the landing place of J. J. Bulow. Now, my heart, cheer up once more, for the sake of my most kind host.... I assure you, I was glad to see him nearing his own comfortable roof; and as we saw the large house opening to view, across his immense plantation, I anticipated a good dinner with as much pleasure as I ever experienced.

All hands returned alive; refreshments and good care have made us all well again, unless it be the stiffness occasioned in my left leg, by nearly six weeks of daily wading through swamps and salt marshes, or scrambling through the vilest thickets of scrubly live oaks and palmitoes that appear to have been created for no other purpose but to punish us for our sins.

Readers of the following account who have visited eastern Florida may conclude that Audubon was not a good prophet, but probably at that early day no one could have made a better forecast of the future:

The land, if land it can be called, is generally so very sandy that nothing can be raised upon it. The swamps are the only spots that afford a fair chance for cultivation; the swamps, then, are positively the only places where plantations are to be found. These plantations are even few in number; along the coast from St. Augustine to Cape Carnaveral, there are about a dozen. These, with the exception of two or three, are yet young plantations. General Hernandez's, J. J. Bulow's, and Mr. Durham's are the strongest, and perhaps the best. Sugar cane will prosper, and doubtless do well; but the labour necessary to produce a good crop, is great! great!! great!!! Between the swamps of which I now speak, and which are found along the margin laying west of the sea inlet, that divides the main land from the Atlantic, to the river St. John of the interior of the peninsula, nothing exists but barren pine lands of poor timber, and immense savannas, mostly overflowed, and all unfit for cultivation. That growth, which in any other country is called underwood, scarcely exists; the land being covered with low palmitoes, or very low, thickly branched dwarf oaks, almost impenetrable to man. The climate is of a most unsettled nature, at least at this season. The thermometer has made leaps from 30 to 89 degrees in 24 hours, cold, warm, sandy, muddy, watery,—all these varieties may be seen in one day's travelling.... Game and fish, it is true, are abundant; but the body of valuable tillable land is too small to enable the peninsula ever to become a rich state.

EARLY UNPUBLISHED DRAWING IN WATER-COLOR OF THE CAROLINA PARROT, ON BRANCH OF THE HICKORY, DATED "HENDERSON, JUNE 9TH, 1811." THE ORIGINAL BEARS THE NOTE: "POOR IMITATION OF COLOR, THE NATURAL BIRD BEING EXTREMELY GLOSSY AND RICH."

Published by courtesy of Mr. Joseph Y. Jeanes.

On January 6, 1832, the party started to visit a famous spring near the sources of the St. John's River, which was described in his third letter to Featherstonhaugh as well as in a later "Episode."[14] There his host, Colonel Rees, who utilized the abundant flow from this curious spring for grinding the whole of his sugar cane, took them down the Spring Garden Creek to a series of muddy lakes which emptied into the St. John's. The mud on this occasion was the cause of great disappointment to the naturalist, for it made it impossible for him to recover what he believed to represent a new species of Ibis, which was shot in one of those bottomless pits. "Being only a few yards distant from us," to quote from Audubon's third letter,[15] "and quite near enough to ascertain the extent of my loss, I submitted to lose a fine pair of a new species, the which if I ever fall in with it again, I shall call Tantalus fuscus."

When they had reached the borders of Woodruff's Lake, after noon, fatigued and hungry, he continued:

We landed on a small island of a few acres, covered with a grove of sour orange trees, intermixed with not a few live oaks. The oranges were in great profusion on the trees—everything about us was calm and beautiful and motionless, as if it had just come from the hand of the Creator. It would have been a perfect Paradise for a poet, but I was not fit to be in Paradise; the loss of my ibis made me as sour as the oranges that hung about me. I felt unquiet, too, in this singular scene, as if I were almost upon the verge of creation, where realities were tapering off into nothing. The general wildness the eternal labyrinths of waters and marshes, interlocked, and apparently never ending; the whole surrounded by interminable swamps—all these things had a tendency to depress my spirits, notwithstanding some beautiful flowers, rich looking fruits, a pure sky, and ample sheets of water at my feet. Here I am in the Floridas, thought I, a country that received its name from the odours wafted from the orange groves, to the boats of the first discoverers, and which from my childhood I have consecrated in my imagination as the garden of the United States. A garden, where all that is not mud, mud, mud, is sand, sand, sand; where the fruit is so sour that it is not eatable, and where in place of singing birds and golden fishes, you have a species of ibis that you cannot get when you have shot it, and alligators, snakes, and scorpions.

Mr. Bartram was the first to call this a garden, but he is to be forgiven; he was an enthusiastic botanist, and rare plants, in the eyes of such a man, convert a wilderness at once into a garden.

When we had eaten our humble repast at the sweet little Orange Grove Island, we left it "alone with its glory," but not without a name. It was determined, nolens volens, that it should be called Audubon's Island, on the St. John's river. Lat. 29° 42´.

Early in February, 1832, Lieutenant Piercy took Audubon and his assistants aboard the government schooner Spark at St. Augustine, and sailed for the mouth of the St. John's River, which he had orders to ascend in the interests of the Revenue Service. On February 12, when they had reached a point one hundred miles from the mouth of the river, the vessel, being in need of repairs, was suddenly recalled. Audubon, with two men, thereupon engaged a boat and attempted to return to St. Augustine across country, by a short cut to the eastward. They were soon stranded and the party divided. Audubon with his dog and one companion then endeavored to make their way by land to the town, eighteen miles distant, but they were overtaken by a terrific gale and thunder-storm, and in order to keep to the trails were often obliged to grope their way on hands and knees.[16]

At about this time the publishers of the Journal of Geology and Natural Science, from which we have quoted, failed, and Featherstonhaugh, who assumed their debts to all subscribers, was obliged to bring it to a close with the completion of the first volume; Audubon's third and last letter appeared in the valedictory number for June, 1832.

Again the naturalist applied to the government officials at Washington for assistance, and, as the following letter shows, Edward Everett again came to his aid, as did also Levi Woodbury, Secretary of the Navy, to whom Audubon later received a personal introduction from Chief Justice Taney of the Supreme Court:

Levi Woodbury to Louis McLane

Navy Department
February 24 1832

Sir,

The letter of the Honorable Mr. Everett of the 18th. inst. relating to Mr. Audubon &c and referred by you to this Department, has been received.

I regret that the impaired condition of the Spark made it necessary some weeks ago, to order that vessel to Norfolk to be refitted.

I have heretofore taken much pleasure in furnishing Mr. Audubon with credentials to the officers of the Navy, and requesting [them] to furnish every aid, in the prosecution of [his] scientific researches: and shall be happy to afford any further facilities within the power of the Department.

I am very respectfully
&c &c
Levi Woodbury

Honorable. L. Mc Lane
Secy of the Treasury

Finally, on April 15, 1832, Audubon and his party were able to board the revenue cutter Marion, commanded by Robert Day, and the opportunity thus afforded for exploring the dangerous east Florida coast amply repaid them for their long and vexatious delays. They visited the islands from St. Augustine to Key West, and examined every part of the shore which it was the duty of the Marion to approach. At Indian Key the deputy collector, Mr. Thurston, gave Audubon the services of his pilot, a veteran sailor and hunter, who accompanied him on the Marion for a number of weeks and led many boat journeys to lonely islands, where vast colonies of sea fowl then dwelt in undisputed possession. The leisurely movements of the vessel also enabled the naturalist to produce many finished drawings, and to obtain materials for fresh "Episodes."[17] At Key West Audubon was hospitably received by Major Classel,[18] and by Dr. Strobel, who was of great assistance both to him and to Bachman in procuring new birds from that little known point.

The unexpected delays experienced in Florida, and the expense which the presence of his assistants necessarily entailed, in all probability, deterred the naturalist from the more hazardous and uncertain enterprise of attempting to reach the Rocky Mountains and the Pacific Coast, which for years had been the great object of his ambition. At all events, after their work was finished at Key West, the party returned to St. Augustine, and on the fifth day of March again boarded the packet schooner Agnes, which was to bear them with their collections to Charleston. Audubon, however, left the vessel at Savannah, in order to deliver letters from the Rathbones of Liverpool to a number of their rich merchant friends in the former city. One of these, named William Gaston,[19] at first declined to subscribe to The Birds of America, on the ground of its great expense and the demands made upon his purse by charity, but his indifference was quickly overcome: not only did he write his name on Audubon's list, but he immediately went out and obtained three other subscribers; he even insisted on becoming Audubon's agent at Savannah, and saw to it that none of those subscriptions was ever allowed to lapse in after years. Savannah eventually gave him six subscribers, which was more than were credited to either Philadelphia or Baltimore.

At Charleston the party disbanded. Lehman returned to Philadelphia, whither Audubon later followed him, but Henry Ward obtained a position with the Museum of Natural History, in which Bachman was interested, and he appears to have been of much assistance both to Bachman and to his friend in procuring for them specimens of new or desirable birds and mammals; at a later day, however, he seems to have fallen into disesteem on account of unpaid debts.

CHAPTER XXVII
EASTERN VISIT AND EXPLORATIONS IN THE NORTH ATLANTIC

Bachman's success as a canvasser—Boston visit—Journey to Portland—Ascent of the St. John's—Return overland—Victor Audubon becomes his father's agent—Winter in Boston—The Golden Eagle—Stricken with illness—Expedition to Labrador planned—American support—Sails from Eastport with five assistants—Discoveries and adventures on the Labrador—Safe return—Another winter at Charleston—Sued for old debts—Experience with vultures—Advice and instruction to a son—Working habits—Return to England.

Foiled in his attempt to see the Florida coast at the season best suited to his purposes, and disappointed in his ambition to penetrate to the Far West, Audubon now turned his attention to the East and determined to follow the migratory birds to their summer homes in the North Atlantic. He left Charleston in early June, 1832, and went to Philadelphia,[20] where he remained about a month, waiting, it seems, for his wife and two sons to join him. In a letter to Edward Harris, dated at Philadelphia, June 9, 1832, he said that he had left the "National hotel, on account of the too high price, I found I would have to pay there, and removed to Camden, at a Mr. Armstrong's, where I formerly boarded"; he asked Harris to send him "a pair of fine woodchucks," as he wished to secure a drawing of those animals.

It is interesting to notice that while Audubon had been absent in Florida, his friend Bachman had busied himself in his behalf and eventually succeeded in placing three copies of The Birds of America in public institutions in Charleston. On December 23, 1831, he wrote to Audubon, who was then at St. Augustine:

I arrived in Columbia, S. C., almost too late, for the "House" had just resolved that the State was too poor to subscribe for Audubon's work. I felt that it would be a disgrace to the State; and, for the first time in my life, I turned to electioneering. And now, behold me among the back countrymen, spinning long yarns. The thing however, took, and your book is subscribed for.... I read what was said in your favor with regard to the "Rattlesnake Story," and thus far, they have not found a wrong twist in your yarn; but be careful in describing the wonders of the South and West.

Audubon wrote to Bachman from Philadelphia, July 1, 1832: "G. Ord has caused a most violent attack on my veracity to be inserted in a London journal; how will he stand mine eye, on Tuesday next at the Society, is more than I can at present tell.... Mr. Berthoud will ship you 3 volumes of the Birds of America, and the succeeding numbers; he will send a bill of sale of those."

His plan was now to visit Boston and Maine, and he left Philadelphia with his family in early August; they traveled by stage to New York, but upon finding that the city was then suffering from a periodic scourge of the cholera, tarried but a day and hastened on. The following letter which Richard Harlan sent after his friend in August of this year shows that his own city did not escape the pest:

Richard Harlan to Audubon

[Addressed] J. J. Audubon Esqr.
No Pearle st.
Boston

[Philadelphia, August, 1832.]

Dear Sir—

I have just recd. your favour of the 5th inst—by which I perceive you are not in possession of the letter I addressed you to the care of Mr Berthoud, the day after your departure. I have since forwarded two others one from N. Orleans, also to care of Mr. Berthoud—The Cholera has raged dreadfully in some localities here—I was engaged on Monday superintending the removal of the sick prisoners from the jail in arch St. at the request of the City authorities—I was there three times during the day—60 were sick at one time, the suffering, and agony of the dying wretches, was an awful sight to witness, 26 died there that day, and about as many more who were removed to the various local Hospitals—I have treated altogether up to present date 35—of whom 18 from prison. 16 have died—and only one remains today—my success is rather encouraging considering the habits of the poor wretches whose cases fell under my care—most of the fatal cases were in a dying state when admitted—I would not have recd. them, but for the wish to alleviate suffering and scatter the tenants of the infected rooms of the jail—The Newspapers do not give an accurate account, because numbers are cured in the early stages whose cases are never reported—the statements of deaths are more accurate—and I suppose the greatest mortality has not exceeded 100 per diem—today only 26 deaths reported, there will probably be more tomorrow—I am happy to hear of yr. safe arrival and reception in Boston, in Mr Perkins you will find an aimable, liberal, and efficient patron, Mr Featherston [Featherstonhaugh] has been in town, but is at present at Braddywine springs—his may No has just appeared—he told me it would be in time to strike out Vignolas name—in the next No My term of duty as Surgeon to the alms House commenced at the 1st of August—the sik for the surgical wards have also suffered, but not so much as the poor tenants of the cells, it has nearly cleaned them out—some respectable, but weakly families in the city have already suffered—My time is usefully, at least, if not profitably employed, night and day. cholera, cholera, cholera!!!!—Tho' I may have no time to write much—I always think of absent frd—Remember to Nuttall, and all yr. family,

Most truly yrs
R Harlan

Audubon's visit to Boston in the summer of 1832 was a red-letter period in his career. So warmly was he then welcomed by the leading public and professional men of the city that he could never say enough in praise of the Bostonians. Dr. George Parkman, Dr. George C. Shattuck, and Col. Thomas H. Perkins,[21] who was already one of his subscribers, were among his most enthusiastic supporters. Of Parkman Audubon said: "He it is, whose memory is most dear to me." It was doubtless Parkman, then a professor in the Medical School, who introduced Audubon to the president of Harvard University, Josiah Quincy, whose name was added to his list.

On August 14, shortly after reaching Boston, Audubon wrote to his friend Harris:

We left Camden, pushed by the season, and the desire I have to fulfil towards my subscribers, the world, and indeed myself, the task allotted me by nature,—the completion of my work.... Allow me to say that with my work, as in the days of '76, the Bostonians have proved themselves the best supporters of a good cause in the country. We expect the support of the Cambridge University, that of the Natural History Society, & again of the State! (Pray remember how anxious we are to have all the States.)

I made drawings of 3 rare species; one is the Marsh Wren, for which I searched in vain when near Salem; the 2d. is a Fly-catcher, described by Mr. Nuttall, and the last a Thrush.

We leave tomorrow for Portland, in Maine, through which we will merely pass, and ere one week expires, expect to be at the Bay of Fundy.

The Audubon family now traveled by carriage and mail-coach along the entire coast of Maine, but made no prolonged stay until they reached Eastport, where excursions were taken into the surrounding country, and the woods and shores were thoroughly ransacked. At Dennisville they made the acquaintance of Judge Lincoln's family, which rendered their stay of a number of weeks "exceedingly agreeable"; as will appear later,[22] it was this agreeable family that furnished Audubon with a valuable recruit for his expedition to Labrador. Towards the end of September they entered New Brunswick and began to ascend the St. John's River. A week was passed at Fredericton, where they were hospitably received by Sir Archibald Campbell. Thence they continued in a small boat, which was towed upstream by mules, to Woodstock, Maine. There a cart was procured, in which they proceeded overland to Houlton, in Aroostook County, then "A neat village, consisting of some fifty houses," and after a few days passed at this garrison town in looking for new birds, they started for Bangor, following the old military road which led along the Penobscot River to Old Town. Said the ornithologist of this journey:

Autumn, with her mellow tints, her glowing fruits, and her rich fields of corn, smiled in placid beauty. Many of the fields had not been reaped; the fruits of the forests and orchards hung clustering around us, and as we came in view of the Penebscot river, our hearts thrilled with joy....

The road which we followed from Old Town to Bangor was literally covered with Penobscot Indians, returning from market. On reaching the latter beautiful town, we found very comfortable lodgings in an excellent hotel; and the next day we proceeded by the mail to Boston.[23]

Audubon felt that he ought to remain in America for at least another year, and decided to send his son, Victor, to England to take charge of his publication. This work had now become a paramount family interest, and for the nineteen years of life that remained to the elder Audubon, his two sons virtually became his assistants, John as an active collector and companion in the field, and Victor as his business agent and secretary. In writing again to Edward Harris, from Boston, November 1, 1832, Audubon noted that they had found the Canada Grouse in abundance, and that he was assured of its breeding commonly within the Union; Victor, he added, had sailed to England, "on the tenth of last month" on the packet ship South America.

The autumn of 1832 and the following winter were spent in Boston, where the naturalist was busily engaged in drawing and in laying plans for the now famous expedition to the coast of Labrador. Meantime Bachman, who was keenly interested in his success, was urging him to return to Charleston; on October 20, 1832, he wrote: "A month in your society would afford me greater pleasure than the highest prize in a lottery. I cannot, I find, feel myself at home with new birds without having the skins to refer to. My cabinet is enlarging every day. Henry Ward now prepares the skins—a pair of each.... What ducks, that are not likely to be obtained for you in Boston, would you like Maria to draw for you?" Writing again on the 26th of October, he said:[24]

I wish to know what you are doing—what progress your work is making; and, whilst I feel deeply interested for your fame ... I feel also a particular interest in your personal welfare, and that of all that belongs to you;... Besides, I want to see you once more to ascertain whether you have stuck to your good resolutions, viz., never to swear (which is a vulgar practice for one who is conversant with the most beautiful of God's works, the feathered race), and never to work on Sundays. However, you are now under the tutorage of your good wife, and, I doubt not, you are as obedient to her in these things, as you ought to be.... You say new birds are scarce. So they are, and yet, in my opinion, we will occasionally find them for half a century to come. (November 11) Maria has figured for you the "White Hibiscus," and, also, a red one, both natives and beautiful; a Euonymus in seed, in which our Sylvia is placed; the white Nondescript Rose; the Gordonica, a Begonia.... She is prepared to send them to you; shall she ship them at once to Boston?... Your resolution to publish the 3rd. Vol. of Water Birds, you will recollect was partly entered into here, and from that moment, my mind was at ease. It will give you four or five years in advance, and will enable you, in a 5th. Vol., to add all recent discoveries of Land and Water Birds. Should you yet be able to go to Florida and the Pacific, I apprehend that you will extend our American Ornithology to 460 or 470 species, perhaps more. Your sons being able to skin birds and paint them, is a great desideratum; it should be mentioned in the preface to your next volume. The talents of the family combined ... will now place the work beyond the fear of falling through, even in case of your death, and the public ought to know it. But you must push for subscribers. If your son Victor can do nothing in Europe, you must go there yourself, and sooner than let the work suffer, you must go on a pilgrimage throughout all the great cities of our Union. Should God spare your life, I want to hear of you enjoying, in your old age "Otium cum dignitate," and to see your children reaping some of your recompense.

JOHN BACHMAN

AFTER A RARE ENGRAVING BY CHARLES C. WRIGHT OF A PORTRAIT BY A. FISHER, PUBLISHED AT CHARLESTON IN 1822. FROM A COPY IN POSSESSION OF MR. JOSEPH V. JEANES.

ROBERT HAVELL.

AFTER A PHOTOGRAPH TAKEN SHORTLY BEFORE HIS DEATH IN 1878. PUBLISHED BY COURTESY OF MR. RUTHVEN DEANE.

Under date of December 20, 1832, his friend "had nothing to write but bad news," and hoped "to see our political atmosphere a little brighter. Do not ask me about birds; I do not know a Buzzard from a King Bird.... Oh, what an enjoyment it would be for me to escape, just for one week, from the hydra-headed 'Nullification,' and sit by your side and talk birds!"

Audubon was anticipating his third volume of plates, devoted mainly to water birds, which was begun with Number 45, in 1834, when the following letter was sent to his son in London:

Audubon to his Son, Victor

Boston, Jany, 17th, 1833—.

My dear Victor—

The Columbia arrived yesterday at New York, and N [icholas]. B [erthoud]. has forwarded us Mr. Havell's letter and yours, both dated 30th. of November last—. I hope soon to see the drawings to work on them—. You give no account of that of The Bartram Sandpiper and of The Spotted Sandpiper—; probably they have escaped you—let me know so that I may renew these should they be missing—, but I think my Friend Children has them—enquire—

The Charlotte is not yet in. She had not left Deal on the 27th of Nov r.—

Your Dear Mother & John wrote to you this morning and you will probably receive this, and that letter at the same moment—.

We will keep all the half Bound Copies of Volume 1st. in America where I hope soon to dispose of them—go on and push the Work with care and all will be well—give our best regards to Havell & his wife & family—I had expected the Death of his Father[25] sometimes—remembrances to our good friend Children, Cuthbutton &c., &c. I will be able to arrange 100 Drawings of Water Birds, ready, and in that finest of style for Publication—Tell Havell I will write to him in a very few Days, and to keep up a good Heart—I hope we will all meet early in the Spring of 1834—

God bless you my Dear Victor: employ your time well and [you] cannot fail being as Happy, at least as it is possible to be, far away from your Dear Mother, John & Your ever affectionate Father & Friend,

John J. Audubon

Send the Gun & Drawing Paper of N—Largest & Middle Size as quick as possible—

[Addressed] Victor G. Audubon Esqr.,
Care of
Robt. Havell, Esqr.,
Engraver,
77 Oxford Street,
London.

While at Boston in the winter of 1833, Audubon obtained from the proprietor of the New England Museum, in Court Street, a superb specimen of the Golden Eagle, which had been caught in the White Mountains in a trap set for foxes. Possessed with a desire to depict this noble bird, he worked so hard at the drawing that, as he said, it nearly cost him his life; he was suddenly seized with "a spasmodic affection," which prostrated him for a time and greatly alarmed his family, but thanks to a strong constitution and to the aid of his medical friends, Doctors Parkman, Warren and Shattuck, the crisis was averted, and he was soon able to continue his labors. "The drawing of this Eagle," said the naturalist, "took me fourteen days, and I had never before laboured so incessantly excepting at that of the Wild Turkey." He was at work on this painting when the following letter[26] was dispatched to his eldest son:

Audubon to his Son, Victor

Boston.
Feb. 5th 1833.

My dear friends

I am just now quite fatigued by the drawing of a Golden Eagle which although it will make a splendid plate has cost me sixty hours of the severest labor I have experienced since I drew the Wild Turkey. You shall I hope see it through the care of Mr. Gordon.[27] Do not ever ship any more Nos. to this port unless on vessels that are intended as packets. The Charlotte has not come and it will be a rubber if I can get enough cash to establish our going to Labrador until she does. Push Jos. B. Kidd of Edinburgh if he can be pushed to paint copies of our drawings. I look on that series as of great importance to us all. Havell's blunder in not having the numbers and paper on board the New York in time, is one which, with him I can never correct. If you can do more than I on this score of punctuality I will be gratified. I shall proceed to New York as soon as the weather moderates, on Sunday last the thermom. was 12 below zero. The work is now I am assured free of duty. When you write give a word of recollection to Dr. Parkman who is a most desirable and worthy friend.

God bless you, forever yours
J. J. Audubon.

In the spring of 1833 Audubon was determined to carry out a long cherished desire to explore the coast of Labrador, where he hoped not only to discover many new birds, but to ascertain the summer plumages and breeding habits of a host of water fowl that were known to resort in the milder season to that stern and rock-bound shore. Accordingly, he set about with characteristic energy to organize and finance an expedition upon his own responsibility. The number of his American subscribers was steadily increasing, and at that moment he felt a degree of confidence in the future of his work to hazard almost any undertaking. In April, when his plans were fixed, he went to New York to consult with his wife's brother-in-law and agent, Nicholas A. Berthoud, and to settle his business affairs before leaving the country. While there he wrote the following long letter[28] to his son, Victor, filled, as usual, with careful instructions and interesting personal details. It will be noticed that when he took pen in hand the number of his American subscribers stood at 51, but before he laid it down it had risen to 54; his belief that his efforts in the cause of natural science would receive a hearty response in his own country was fully justified.

Audubon to his Son, Victor

New York April 28th 1833—

My dear Victor—

On opening the box containing the numbers last sent to this place for distribution, we found the contents Wet and of course some of them damaged. We have however dried them and made of them that could be done and they will all go on Monday (tomorrow) to their Several destinations—In future I recommend that Each parcel of numbers for the different individuals are rolled up in separate Parcel, inclosed in good stout brown Paper, and each directed outside, enumerating the numbers therein contained—then put all the Rolls in a Box—in this manner they all will be less liable to Injury, will not need to be undone here for we have no trouble at all at the Custom House, and it will Save the handling of the Plates at the Compting House.—

N. Berthoud rendered me his account yesterday I send you inclose a Copy of it—and I also send you a Copy of a general & particular memorandum left with him, by the assistance of which the Business is clearly exhibited, so that each Subscriber's Standing with the Work Shows at once.—

The Balance in our favor in N. Berthoud's hands is $ 1358.91—We have due South of this $ 1834.48. and at Boston $ 1220.00—altogether $ 4413.39.—The Boston amount will be ready for me when I reach there on Thursday next.—I take from N. B's hands here $ 800.00.—300 $ of which I give to your Dear Mother—when at Boston I will take 500 $ more and send the Balance to N. Berthoud—he will then have about $ 1278.91 of cash out of which he will send you 100 £ say 480 $ leaving still with him about $ 798.91, besides what he will collect from the South the amount which is mentioned above, all of which I hope will be collected ere I return to this Place, as early as I can without losing the opportunity of doing all that can be done.

You will easily perceive by all this that we have been extremely fortunate of late on this Side of the Water, and the 400 £ forwarded to you will fully enable you to meet the demands of Havell &c for the 20 Volumes you have to send here & other emergencies.—We have at Present 51 Subscribers in the U. States, without the name of Docr Croghan from whom not a word has been heard, and also without that of Baron Krudener who is now at Washington City, but who has not taken any cognisance of the letter I sent him. N. Berthoud is going to write to him and I hope the Baron will take the work.—he certainly ought.

I found the Plates sent here better coloured than usual and with your present assistance I greatly hope the goodness of the Work will still improve.—Nicholas will forward you Two very beautiful Numbers—the Plates are as follows,

I should have sent you 2 more Numbers had I The Two large Plates for them, but hoping that I may meet with something Large & perhaps New I Shall not do so, until I return which will be Still time enough.—I am very anxious to See the 2d Volume finished and for this reason invite you to push the Work, as much as you can & have it very well executed meantime.

The State of Maryland is subscribed to by D. Ridgely M.D. Librarian of that State. he desires the 1st Volume and the following numbers forwarded as soon as can be.—Send it here—as he has authorized N. B. to draw on him for Payment.—Miss Harriet Douglass also desires to have her Number sent here for the Future. I hope the Copies for Col Perkins & others at Boston & vicinity, as well as for Wm Oakes, & John Neale will soon arrive.—

April 30th—Since the above, I have obtained Two more Subscribers—the names of whom are

I was told last night that the State has also Subscribed, but cannot tell until I see this day's Paper—Whilst at the Lyceum of Natural History last evening, I was promised their Subscription on Monday next—being the Society's day of business.

I have concluded to send the 2 Numbers of Drawings by the Packett—The Tin case containing them, will be given to the special care of the Capn on whom you will do well to call immediately.—I have given a 1st Volume to Nicholas Berthoud; there are many enquiries made to see the Work and it answers that purpose well.

John & I leave for Boston either this afternoon or tomorrow—perhaps tomorrow as we have much to do.—It is not probable that Edd Harriss will join us at East Port and go to Labrador with us—I shall write to you at every opportunity as these may occur, and doubtless from Halifax.

Mr Inman has painted my Portrait in Oil, and I say that it is a truer portrait of me than even the Miniature.—Now my Dear Victor exert yourself in the having all the Volumes compleated which I have written for—See that they are carefully packed with Paper between each &c &c &c I shall not close this until I have given the Box to the Capn and when I hope to add the Subscription of this State.—

2, o'clock—I have just returned from the bustle of the Lower part of the City—the State has Subscribed! Therefore add that valuable one. There is no Packet for London Tomorrow, therefore the Drawings will go off on the 10th of May by the Capn in whose particular care they will be given.—These 10 Drawings have been insured this morning against all Risk, for 2,000 $ at ½ per Centum—I hope you will receive them in perfect order; they are carefully packed by myself in a Tin Box securely sodered &c &c.

We have now 54. Subscribers in America. Mr Inman is going to Paint the Portrait of your Dear Mother, and I have not a doubt that it will be "good & true." The Weather is extremely Warm—The Thermometer ranges at nearly 72. The Martins are flying over the City and Tomorrow I shall fly toward the Coast of Labrador—If fortunate I shall bring a load of Knowledge of the Water Birds which spend the Winter in our Country and May hope to Compete in the study of their Habits with any Man in the World.

My Good Friend Charles Bonaparte as (I am told) taken umbrage at a Passage in My Introduction (first Volume)[29] Which proves how difficult it is to please every one—I am going to write to him by Duplicate to try to correct that Error of his—God ever bless You my Dear Son, and May We all meet Well & Happy

Yours ever affectionately,
John J. Audubon.

Audubon was particularly anxious to enlist a number of enthusiastic young men in the Labrador enterprise, and had hoped that his friend, Edward Harris, would join the party. Upon his return to Boston he started at once for Eastport, Maine, where he expected to charter a vessel and complete his preparations. On May 9, 1833, he wrote to Harris from that point:

The more I approach the desired object of this voyage, the more bouyant my spirits, and the greater my hopes that when I return I will bring a cargo (not of codfish) but of most valuable information. Make up your mind; shoulder your firelock, and away to the fields where science awaits us with ample stores, the contents of which are the rarest materials ever employed by nature.

To this friend he wrote again from Eastport on the 14th of the same month:

As to my making use of your name in my letterpress, I shall act as you desire, and yet I hope and fully expect no denial on your part, on such occasions as will grant me the pleasure of giving public notice of the treatment I have received from you. I owe such a thing to you as a trifling, very trifling, mark of my gratitude towards one, whom I shall never cease to admire and esteem.

The National Gazette of Philadelphia for May 2, 1833, devoted an editorial to Audubon and his prospective Labrador journey, in which the writer said: "We wish him a degree of success and prolongation of vigor equal to his great merits: indeed, for the past at least, success is fully assured." He added that between fifty and sixty subscribers to The Birds of America had then been obtained in the United States; Boston had furnished eighteen; New York, eleven; Philadelphia, four; Baltimore, eight; Savannah, seven; Louisville, two, and New Orleans, three; moreover, the legislatures of Massachusetts, New York, Maryland and South Carolina and the Congressional Library were subscribers for one copy each. The writer continued:

A contribution to Mr. Audubon equal at least to that of Boston or New York, would seem due from Philadelphia. The subscription price may be considered as large ($ 1,000), but how rich, ornamental, instructive, and entertaining is the work, and how much preferable to the merely personal gewgaws or transitory gratifications, upon which greater sums are as frequently expended! There are few minds of any refinement or elevation, to which an act that rewards genius and fosters science, would not yield higher and more durable pleasure than any ordinary luxury.

We learn that Mr. Audubon will return to the United States next autumn, and make a short sojourn before his embarkation for Europe. Eight or nine more years, it is supposed, will yet be necessary for the consummation of his grand design. His constitution appears to be still vigorous; his zeal is unabated; his powers of graphic delineation have suffered no decay; we may, therefore, expect that he will realize all his own laudatory hopes and projects, and in so doing confer new obligations on the votaries of natural history, and reflect additional honor on his country.

While Audubon was still at Eastport, and looking anxiously for young recruits, the following letter was received from Dr. George Parkman:[30]

Dr. George Parkman to Audubon

Boston, May 25th. 1833.

J. J. Audubon Esqr.

Dear Sir

Through the unceasing & active good-will of our Friend, Dr. Shattuck, I present to you Mr. Ingalls, son of Dr. Ingalls, one of our senior physicians & an experienced public teacher of Anat.y & Surg.y—

The son is the father's pupil; & we have reason to expect that he will prove a satisfactory disciple to you.

The enclosed I claim for you the right to read, & for myself to repossess, when we meet again.

respectfully
G. Parkman.

LETTER OF DR. GEORGE PARKMAN TO AUDUBON, MAY 25, 1833.

From the Howland MSS.

Edward Harris was unable to accompany his friend, and the four young men eventually chosen were Joseph Coolidge,[31] William Ingalls, of Boston, Thomas Lincoln, of Dennisville, Maine, and George Cheyne Shattuck,[32] the son of Dr. George C. Shattuck of Boston; these, with John Woodhouse Audubon and the naturalist, made up the party. The schooner Ripley, a staunch new vessel of 106 tons, was chartered at Eastport, and the expedition was ready to start by the latter part of May. During his stay at Eastport Audubon visited Grand Manan Island, a favorite resort for sea birds in the Bay of Fundy, and cruised about the coast in a revenue cutter. On May 31, he wrote to Victor:[33]

I have been working hard at the Birds from Grand Menan, as well as John, who is overcoming his habit of sleeping late, as I call him every morning at four, and we have famous long days....

The hull of the vessel has been floored, and our great table solidly fixed in a tolerably good light under the main hatch; it is my intention to draw whenever possible, and that will be many hours, for the daylight is with us nearly all the time in those latitudes, and the fishermen say you can do with little sleep, the air is so pure.

After repeated delays the Ripley sailed from Eastport for Labrador on June 6, 1833, and the journey proved arduous and hazardous enough. Although disappointing in respect to the number of new species of birds discovered, Audubon's visit was well timed; he was aided by a band of devoted and energetic youth, and they spent two months on the coast of a wild country, then but little known save to a nefarious crew of egg robbers and a few enterprising fishermen. His published journal of the voyage shows that he worked to the full limit of his physical powers in studying and portraying the wonderful bird life which the party encountered. Despite the miseries of seasickness, an incompetent pilot, tempestuous weather, and the cramped quarters of a small schooner, where all his drawings had to be done under an open hatch, he accomplished wonders, considering the shortness of his stay. By rising at three o'clock in the morning and working for seventeen hours, he succeeded in completing many large drawings of birds, as well as studies of characteristic flowers; he also journalized voluminously and saw much of the coast and its adjacent islands.

From Eastport they passed through the Gut of Canso and steered for the Magdalen Islands, where they landed and made collections. On June 14 they approached the famous Bird Rock, which at a distance seemed to be covered with a mantle of new-fallen snow, an illusion soon dispelled as their vessel bore them nearer and a vast concourse of Gannets rose in great clouds from the rock; "all stood astonished and amazed," said Audubon, and he felt that such a sight had of itself fully repaid them for their journey. On June 17, the twelfth day out from Eastport, they passed Anticosti Island, and soon began to see what appeared like white sails on the horizon; these proved to be snow drifts on the Labrador, and on the 18th they landed at the mouth of the Natashquan River. Ducks, Geese, Auks and Guillemots were there in great multitudes, as well as Gulls and Terns; many were breeding, and all seemed wilder than at points farther south, a circumstance which was explained as soon as they discovered the astounding proportions which the traffic in eggs of sea fowl had attained even at that time.[34]

On June 27 they procured a new bird[35] which Audubon named after his young companion, Thomas Lincoln of Dennisville, Maine, and which is still known as "Lincoln's Finch." This reference is found in his journal for the 4th of July: "I have drawn all day, and have finished the plate of the Fringilla lincolnii, to which I have put three plants of the country; to us they are very fitting to the purpose, for Lincoln gathered them."

The Ripley left its anchorage at American Harbor or Natashquan on June 28, and stood out to sea, their usual recourse to avoid the intricacies of the coast. After proceeding fifty miles or more they touched at numerous islands, where Guillemots, Puffins, and Black-backed Gulls were breeding in vast numbers, and managed to anchor safely, in spite of that "ignorant ass" of a pilot, at a wild and desolate point which a recent traveler has identified as the harbor of Wapitagun.[36] July the second was such a beautiful day for Labrador that Audubon went on shore, where he drew this vivid picture of that desolate land in sunshine:[37]

The country, so wild and grand, is of itself enough to interest any one in its wonderful dreariness. Its mossy, gray-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 situations, 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 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 [that are] pushing their tender stems from the thick bed of moss which everywhere 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 perchance, and indeed as if by chance alone, you now and then see flying before you, or hear singing from the creeping plants of the ground. The beautiful fresh water lakes, on the ragged crests of greatly elevated islands, wherein the Red and Black-necked Divers swim as proudly as swans do in 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 grand, wild—aye, 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 doubtless is as sweet to it, as the essence of the magnolia is to those of favored Louisiana. 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 reaching 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, compared 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 horizon, for full well does he know 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 dragging 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.

Plate CXI
Pileated Woodpecker,
PICUS PILEATUS, Linn.
Adult Male, 1. Adult Female, 2. Young Males, 3. 4. Racoon Grape. Vitis astivalis.

Drawn from nature by J. J. Audubon, F.R.S. F.L.S. Engraved, Printed & Coloured by R. Havell.

On the 6th of July he wrote:[38]

By dint of hard work and rising at three, I have drawn a Colymbus septemtrionalis [Great Northern Diver] and a young one, and nearly finished a Ptarmigan; this afternoon, however, at half-past five, my fingers could no longer hold my pencil, and I was forced to abandon my work and go ashore for exercise. The fact is that I am growing old too fast; alas! I feel it,—and yet work I will, and may God grant me life to see the last plate of my mammoth work finished.

On the seventh there is this note:

Drawing all day; finished the female Grouse and five young, and prepared the male bird. The captain, John, and Lincoln, went off this afternoon with a view to camp on a bay about ten miles distant. Soon after, we had a change of weather, and, for a wonder, bright lightning and something like summer clouds. When fatigued with drawing I went on shore for exercise, and saw many pretty flowers, amongst them a flowering Sea-pea, quite rich in color.... The mosquitoes quite as numerous as in Louisiana.

On July 14 the Ripley took the party forty-three miles farther east to Little Maccatina, or Hare Harbor, as it is called today, where they remained until July 21, proceeding thence to Baie de Portage. Here they were able to enter their small boats, and visited the captain of a whaling schooner from New Brunswick, a Canadian trapper, and a Scotchman, Samuel Robertson by name, who was engaged in the sealing industry at Sparr Point, all of whom Audubon pumped for information on the country and its products. On July 25, they started for "Chevalier's Settlement," but were caught in a storm, and came to in Bras d'Or (Bradore) Bay; there they found the Labrador Duck, which in 1875, but forty-two years later, had become totally extinct.

At the approach of August the brief Labrador summer, of barely one month, was drawing to a close, and Audubon was exerting his utmost efforts to accomplish his purposes. Under date of August 10 he wrote:[39]

My reason for not writing at night is that I have been drawing so constantly, often seventeen hours a day, that the weariness of my body at night has been unprecedented, by such work at least. At times I felt as if my physical powers would abandon me; my neck, my shoulders, and, more than all, my fingers, were almost useless through actual fatigue at drawing. Who would believe this? Yet, nothing is more true. When at the return of dawn my spirits called me out of my berth, my body seemed to beg my mind to suffer it to rest a while longer; and as dark forced me to lay aside my brushes I immediately went to rest as if I had walked sixty-five miles that day, as I have done a few times in my stronger days. Yesternight, when I rose from my little seat to contemplate my work and to judge of the effect of it compared with the nature which I had been attempting to copy, it was the affair of a moment; instead of waiting, as I always like to do, until the hazy darkness which is to me the best time to judge of the strength of light and shade, I went at once to rest as if delivered from the heaviest task I ever performed. The young men think my fatigue is added to by the fact that I often work in wet clothes, but I have done that all my life with no ill effects. No! no! it is that I am no longer young. But I thank God that I did accomplish my task; my drawings are finished to the best of my ability, (and) the skins well prepared by John.

On the 11th of August all hands parted with Labrador without regret, and the captain of the Ripley steered for Newfoundland, where they landed in St. George's Harbor on the 13th. That region was searched for five days, when a fresh start was made for Pictou, Nova Scotia, but when they encountered head winds, Audubon and his party were landed on the nearest shore and made their way overland to the town. Thence they proceeded to Truro and Halifax, and after three days went on to Windsor, where they watched the famous tides in the Bay of Fundy—emptying and filling a broad river, and rising, in course, to a height of sixty-five feet. From that point a steamboat was taken to St. Johns, New Brunswick, where the faithful Harris awaited the naturalist with tidings of his wife and elder son;[40] this intelligence induced him to abandon his contemplated course through the woods of Quebec and hasten back to the United States. The party finally reached Eastport on August 31, after being out nearly twelve weeks. When the Ripley had docked and their collections were securely packed, all but Coolidge and Lincoln returned to Boston, and on September 7 Audubon was again in New York.

The Labrador experience was in a measure disappointing, but the naturalist brought back twenty-three large drawings of birds, complete or nearly so, and seventy-three bird skins, as well as considerable collections of marine animals and plants. The expenses of the journey had been heavy, amounting, as he told his son, to "about $2,000," but one fine morning when they had flushed a Black Poll Warbler from its nest, Audubon felt that he was amply "refunded in the sight," though this bird was later found to have a much wider breeding range than he then supposed.

The National Gazette of Philadelphia[41] published a long editorial upon Audubon's return, as well as an extended account of his journey, extracted from the Boston Patriot. To quote the editor's comment:

The distinguished naturalist returned from his northeastern excursion to Boston Wednesday last. We believe that there is no one who will not be gratified to learn the progress of his arduous and unremitted labors in a branch of science, which he has made peculiarly his own; and he has kindly favored us with information on the subject of his recent tour, which we are glad to lay before our readers; regretting only that we are unable to present it in his own rich and animated language, and to invest it with the attractions which it would derive from his own descriptive powers.

LETTER OF ROBERT HAVELL TO AUDUBON, JUNE 15, 1833.

From the Deane MSS.

While at Halifax Audubon received a congratulatory letter from Bachman, who urged him to visit Charleston and to bring his family. The invitation was accepted, and early in September Audubon returned to New York, where he immediately prepared the new drawings for dispatch to London; thirteen of the land birds were for the completion of his second volume, and seventeen, representing water fowl, were to form the initial series of the third; all, as usual, were heavily insured.

Audubon left New York with his wife on September 25 and spent nearly a month en route to Charleston, while John, who intended to accompany his father to Florida, went direct by water. Dr. Thomas L. McKenney, of Philadelphia, in a letter to Lewis Cass, Secretary of War, said:[42]

Mr. Audubon makes no more of tracking it in all directions over this, and I may add other countries, than a shot star does in crossing the heavens. He goes after winged things, but sometimes needs the aid of—at least a few feathers, to assist him better to fly. He means to coast it again round Florida—make a track through Arkansas—go up the Missouri—pass on to the Rocky Mountains, and thence to the Pacific. He will require some of your official aid.

As a contrast to the warmth of Audubon's greeting in Philadelphia, while in that city he was arrested for debt, and was on the point of being taken to jail when he was offered bail by a friend. "This event," he said, "brings to my mind so many disagreeable thoughts connected with my former business transactions, in which I was always the single loser, that I will only add I made all necessary arrangements to have it paid."

Four new subscribers were obtained at Baltimore, but when the naturalist applied to Secretary Cass at Washington for the privilege of accompanying an expedition to the Rocky Mountains under the patronage of the Government, he met with a cool reception, and though he had forgotten his letter from Dr. McKenney, he was resolved not to trouble that official further. At this juncture he met Washington Irving, who did his best to save the situation, and thought that Audubon had been mistaken in his judgment of the Secretary; "I might have been," he said, "but those eyes of mine have discovered more truth in men's eyes than their mouths were willing to acknowledge." Irving accompanied him to the offices of Mr. Taney, the Secretary of the Treasury, who at once gave the naturalist the privileges of the revenue cutter service on the southern coast.

At Richmond Audubon met Governor Floyd, who promised to try to induce the legislature of his State to subscribe for a copy of the Birds. From that point to Charleston we shall follow their itinerary as given in his journal under date of October 16:[43]

We left Richmond this morning in a stage well crammed with Italian musicians and southern merchants, arrived at Petersburg at a late hour, dined, and were again crammed in a car drawn by a locomotive, which dragged us twelve miles an hour, and sent out sparks of fire enough to keep us constantly busy in extinguishing them on our clothes. At Blakely we were again crammed into a stage, and dragged two miles an hour. We crossed the Roanoke River by torchlight in a flatboat, passed through Halifax, Raleigh, Fayetteville, and Columbia, where we spent the night. Here I met Dr. Gibbs, at whose house we passed the evening, and who assisted me greatly; at his house I met President Thomas Cooper, who assured me he had seen a rattlesnake climb a five-rail fence on his land. I received from the treasury of the State four hundred and fifty dollars on account of its subscription for one copy of the "Birds of America."

For a number of years Audubon's snake stories had subjected him to no little ridicule in certain quarters, and this notice of a climbing rattlesnake pleased him so much that he asked the venerable president to put his statement in writing; he willingly complied, and his interesting letter on the subject will be given in a later chapter.[44]

When Audubon and his wife reached the Bachman home on October 24, he was prepared to push on to the South, but changed his plans, on account, he said, "of the removal of my good friend Captain Robert Day from his former station to New York, and I did not like to launch on the Florida reefs in the care of a young officer unknown to me." The winter of 1833-4 was passed under the hospitable rooftree of his friend, in the usual occupations of painting, writing and hunting birds. At this time an attachment sprang up between his younger son, John Woodhouse Audubon, and Maria Rebecca, the eldest daughter of the Bachman household. Here Audubon wrote the first drafts of many of the bird biographies contained in the second volume of his letterpress, and with Bachman conducted a series of careful experiments on the power of smell in vultures, in order to settle a question which had then become acute among naturalists.[45] This subject is referred to in the following intimate letter,[46] which reveals the confidence which Audubon felt in his sons and in their united ability to bring his great undertaking to a successful issue, as well as the infinite pains which he bestowed upon every part of it. Audubon, who was now in his forty-ninth year, felt that he was aging very fast, and declared that one year then would be equal to three, three years from that time.

Audubon to his Son, Victor

Charleston, Dc., 24, 1833.

My dear beloved Victor:—

Your last letter to us is dated at London, 7th. Octbr. It has given us all ample and sincere pleasure. The copy of your reply[47] to Mons. Waterton is excellent; that from Swainson ought to prove a death-blow to the Demerara Gent! I hope that these letters are now before the world, for my mortification has been great enough respecting the blackguardism of G. Ord and others, and yet I am heartily glad that I never paid personally any attention to them through the press or otherwise. Here my friends are as much shocked as myself, and the moment is at hand when these T... will be glad to find some hiding place to resort to, and wait for time to obliterate their obvious jealousy and falsehood.

John Bachman and myself have begun a second series of experiments, such as I made before, connected with the nose-smelling of Turkey Buzzards; as far as we have gone through them, these experiments have proved perfectly satisfactory to my good friend and myself, and depend [upon] it, from next Wednesday, the American World will know that Turkey Buzzards are first, Gregarious, as well as the Carrion Crow [Black Vulture], that they eat fresh meat in preference to putrid stuff; that they eat birds, fresh killed, either plucked or not, even of their own species; that they suck birds' eggs, and devour their callow young; that they come to their food by their sense of sight, and not that of smell, and lastly that they cannot discover by any sense of smell the most putrid matter, even when this putrid stuff is within a few feet of them, out of sight of their eyes. Were Snakes as abundant near Charleston as Buzzards, that business would soon be also set at rest, but for this, however, time is required, and the time I think will come. The experiments we are making will be repeated in the presence of the faculty of this city,[48] and their Certificates attached to the whole, and immediately published in the Annals of the Philosophical Society of Phila.[49] those of the Lyceum of New York. A copy will be sent to be read at the Linnean, or Royal Society of London, and Royal Institute of France; then let those laugh who win. We have attracted Turkey Buzzards with pieces of fresh beef, not more than an inch square, and we have seen others pass unnoticed the body of a hare or fowl within 20 steps. We have now 3 fine birds of this species to experiment upon, and their olfactory nerves will be examined by the faculty here, where there are some highly talented men.

Our friend Bachman has written a very fine paper for Loudon's Mag.[50] which will be forwarded to you in a few days by duplicate, and which I wish you to give to our friend J. G. Children, and ask him to have it read at the R. and L. Societies, and inserted in the above mentioned Mag. afterwards. We hope all this will be accomplished by the 1st. March next.

Now to other subjects. We are deeply at work. John has drawn a few Birds, as good as any I ever made, and in a few months I hope to give this department of my duty up to him altogether; his improvements on other subjects are equally pleasing. I write a [biography of a] Bird or so every evening, and our friend grants me all his knowledge of the habits of those with which he has become well acquainted, belonging to this part of the Union. I have nearly one 100 drawings of Water Birds ready for publication & I pronounce them equal to any previous ones. I am much pleased at the news you give me respecting Havell; I hope he will continue with hand and heart to do all in his power for the fame of our work, and for himself. We have not seen Nos. 34, 35, tho. from your letter we suppose them to be in New York. Wm. Oakes, I have written you, has paid all, up to No. 33; Arnold, of New Bedford, for all he has had; John Neal has his copy, but I do not know if he has yet paid Dr. Parkman, who is our kind friend and agent in that part of the Country. I wish you had forwarded first volumes bound, as you had those on hand, as several would have been disposed of and paid for by this time; do send all, or whatever of them you have ready, as soon as possible. It will be well for you to have friend Bachm's. paper published in toto, in some good circulating paper in London & Edinboro. Brushes! Brushes! Brushes! I am glad to hear of Kidd & Co.'s publication of Parrots, but I regret that my face should have been there from Syme's picture, which in my estimation is none of the best. Push Kidd with the pictures; have them, and take care of them. Sell all the Shells you please; write to John Adamson, of New Castle, about them, but keep smug all the Bird Skins. I cannot do without them when I write my Synopsis, which will be when I am with you. Our voyage round the Floridas, Gulph Mexico &c. will begin about the 1st. February. This will be my last journey, after which John and I will hunt for Subscribers, procure a round number, and join you as soon as possible. Your dear Mama will in all probability join you in May or June next. In about a fortnight I shall send you more land Birds for the end of the 2d. volume, extra small plates, and several numbers of Water Birds. I am anxious to hear something about the little edition. Do not omit to let me know when you want money, for tho. our expenses are always great, the Work must not, and shall not suffer, as long as my eyes and hands can work.

Dec. 23d., last evening, we had the pleasure of yours of the 28 Oct, and one from Havell of the 9th. Regarding Havell, we are glad that all is well with him, and hope he will not trouble us about extra prices, not even for the Water Birds. The safe arrival of my last drawings has relieved me of that anxiety. You are quite right on the score of advice. You in England, will do best to act as you may think proper. We, in America, are trying to do equally well, and our little Alliance is as efficient as the Holy one at least. That Subscribers should die is an event we cannot help; that such fellows as V. should act so cannot be controlled, but depend upon our industry, our truth, and the regular manner in which we publish our work; this will always prove to the world and to our Patrons that nothing more can be done than what we do; nay, I doubt if any family, with our pecuniary means, ever will raise for themselves such a monument as the "Birds of America" is, over their tomb.

How comes it that Harlan has not money enough to pay his expenses in Europe? I shall remember the 20 £, and the exchange. Chamley, of New Castle, was never prompt pay; indeed, my dear Victor, were you fully acquainted with the great difficulties which I had to surmount and did surmount, it would give you less fear than you now feel or experience. We shall be glad to receive the Brushes that are, I hope, now under way for us. Mr. Miesson resides [at] No. 2 Rue Pigalle, on the east side of the grand Boulevards. Present my regards to Mr. Yarrell, and thank him in my name for his kind offer of eggs, and add that I shall have it in my power to present him with many which I think he has not found, that our two collections will most likely comprise the whole of those published in my 4 volumes. I fear that to give the eggs in the 2d. of Biography would render that volume too large, and again too costly, and that a few plates of eggs at the end of the large work will answer better.[51] The plates ought to be insured for at least 4 or 5 times the cost, for should they by an accident be destroyed, the amount of their cost would prove a poor remuneration, when compared with the time it would require to have them renewed. Attend to this as soon as you can. Henry Ward has rendered himself very obnoxious here. a letter came to Mr. B. on last evening from St. Augustine, to inquire how a certain amount left by him unpaid was to be settled. Mr. Bachman will inform you of the particulars.

Do forward the bound volumes as soon as possible, for with them I could at once make you a considerable remittance, which would enable you to prepare the Nos. of the 2d. Vol. for those who do not wish to have it complete. I am trying to receive some money on Act. of the 2d. Vol. through the mediums of Dr. Parkman, N. Berthoud, John Bellonis, Wm. Gaston, and will let you know the result. The Plate ... which you sent me is extremely well engraved, but let us keep to Havell as long as he behaves with propriety, and does good work.

I have now replied to your letter fully, except on what you say about my immediate return. The following are my views, but if after all, you say—come on, I shall do so. Our country is becoming more wealthy every day. Science is looked upon with more congeniality every year. Subscribers in this Dear Country of ours do not drop off unless they die. They pay punctually on demand, and to have more of them in this land than in Europe is a thing that may prove of the greatest importance to us. When I visited our woods on my first return from England, I was absent about 12 months. The Rathbones and Mr. Children wrote to me many times to return, or expect the work to fall. I went back to Europe before I was ready to go, and on my arrival there, to my surprise and joy, I found everything going on as well as usual; but I was again obliged to come to our Country to renew my researches, and improve my head, as well as my collection of drawings. I had then left no one like you in England. Now you, my Dear Son, are there; thank God for it! You prove to be a better man at carrying on the publication than myself, and to tell you more, I doubt if I could procure more subscribers there than yourself. I am truly desirous for your sake, and that of your dear Mother and Brother, to do all in my power for the completion of this great work. I wish to finish here all that is to be done both in the way of drawing, and increase of knowledge, in black and white, and also in Patrons, as much as possible, ere I return to Europe, where, when I do go, I must remain several years, if not until the completion of the engraving. I am growing old very fast; in 3 or 4 years my career as a traveller will be ended, and should I be obliged to renew my field-labours, it is doubtful if my constitution could bear it. One year now is equal to 3, 3 years hence. I receive much assistance from the Government, and have John to accompany me. I am still able to undergo some fatigue, and, as I have said, I am anxious, very anxious, to do all that can be done ere I return to Europe. Now the whole time which I conceive necessary to enable me to perform these desideratums cannot exceed 12 or 15 months. What pleasure it would be to us all, when I take your hand and press you to my heart, I should also have a list of 100 new names from America!; all the drawings and the manuscripts ready for the completion of this our wonderful undertaking. I would advise you to address a circular letter to all those who may be concerned in Europe, to acquaint them with what I call the necessity of my being in America, for the sole purpose of increasing the value of our publications, either Illustrative or graphical. This, and the constant improvement now exhibited to them with each new number of the work, could not fail, I think, to render them quiet, if not pleased, that I am now doing all I can for the advantage of the work. Tell them the facts, that I have greatly added to the Ornithology of the United States since my absence from Europe, that the number of species which I now have, and that are not given by Wilson or Bonaparte, combined, amounts to nearly one hundred, and that the Water Birds will be fully equal in point of interest and beauty, to any of the land Birds that are published. And, not the least part of this, my remaining in America has already [given], and will continue, to give me the power of portraying the habits of the Water Birds with more truth and completeness than has ever yet been done. Next, have extracts of my letter to you, before the world's eye, through the medium of Papers. Visit such of our friends, and ask them to say those things to their acquaintance; go on yourself, as you have done, and depend upon it, we shall all be greatly benefitted. In your most kind letter to John you mention with unexampled modesty what you are attempting to do in the way of self-improvement, but my Dear Victor, you cannot convey more thoroughly to us the march of your improvement than you have done by sending your letters, and the result of your actions, so well delineated as this is, and we all feel deeply gratified and most happy. Cruickshank is right; by drawing you are enabled to study the lights and shadows of bodies, again the beautiful mellowness with which, altho. all powerful in the effect, these blend themselves with each other. The reflective power of bodies will also strike your discerning attention, and when these combinations of the true Materia are well understood, the artist is a Master! Nature after all, has done all for us; she groups, and most beautifully, every thing that is presented to our eye or mind, so completely also, that if one observes a number of bodies, no matter what these bodies are, whether horses or apes, he sees at once the general elegance of their arrangement in contour, the force of the light and shadows, the mellowness existing between these, and as the eye passes on to the finishing of that natural picture, it at once pronounces it complete.

Do not forget to take from Kidd whatever pictures of ours he may have finished, and take good care of them. We have pretty nearly kilt G. Ord and Waterton with our Buzzard experiments. You say you wish you could see us at friend Bachman's; I assure you my pleasure at such an event would be equal to yours. We are indeed happy in having such a friend. Miss Martin, with her superior talents, assists us greatly in the way of drawing; the insects she has drawn are, perhaps, the best I've seen; at night we have some music and reading. When you receive Bird Skins, perhaps it would be as well to form a collection of each species in pairs, and variety of age or color.

24 Dec. We have just received yours of 18th. October. You are, my Dear Son, too low spirited respecting my immediate appearance in England. Cheer up, my beloved Victor! Believe me, when I repeat that our own Dear Country will support the efforts of us all, and will grant us more Patrons than the whole of Europe together; by the way of a nightcap, let me give you the name of Wm. J. Rees, of Sumpter district, Statesbury, South Carolina, who put his name to my list this afternoon at the moment when the Vultures lost their olfactory powers, for I daubed the imitation of a sheep, and the very first one that passed over the picture rounded and came to it.

Respecting Kidd, and his prospectus, depend upon it, nothing is to be feared from that quarter; that work is dead at the moment I write, and as to his publishing the intention of the pictures, it signifies nothing. All you have to do is to take all the pictures from him, by goodwill or otherwise, and give him no more originals to copy.

If I regret anything at this moment, it is that you should have kept the 20 volumes in London, when, if I had them in America, I should at once be enabled to make you a valuable remittance. Ship them, ensured, as fast as possible, and doubt not my disposing of them. Lewis Atterbury writes me to night that all the numbers 34, 35, which Havell has shipped, are injured greatly by salt water. I do not know yet if they were insured or not. I write to him this evening. Do not ship anything without insurance; it is better to lose time in this case than money. I will write again in a few days, and I shall forward you Water Birds in good time. God bless you, my dear fellow; keep up your spirits, and again may God bless you.

Ever your affectionate father,
J. J. Audubon.

Honest John Bachman, who had lived and worked with Audubon for months at a time, and who probably knew him better than did any one in America outside of the naturalist's own family, gave this account of his habits in 1834, when, at the age of forty-nine, he was still working at his best:

He rises at the earliest dawn, and devotes the whole of the day, in intense industry, to his favourite pursuit. The specimens from which he makes his drawings are all from nature; carefully noting the colors of the eye, bill, and legs; measuring, with great accuracy, every part of the bird. When differences exist, either in the sexes or young, several figures are given on the same plate; sparing no labour in retouching old drawings or in making new ones, in all cases where he conceives there may be a possibility of making an improvement. In this way, he has already succeeded in figuring nearly the whole of the birds necessary to complete his splendid and important work.

He keeps a journal, and regularly notes down every thing connected with natural history. This journal is always kept in English: a language which, it must be acknowledged he writes very correctly, when it is taken into consideration that he spent nearly the first seventeen years of his life in France. Besides this, he keeps separate journals, in which he notes every thing that he learns each day on the habits of every bird. In all his travels, he carries these journals with him; and he never suffers business, fatigue, or pleasure to prevent him each evening from noting down every interesting observation. In this way, a mass of information has been accumulated from year to year. When he sits down to write the history of a bird (which is usually in the evening), he first reads over all the memoranda which he has made with regard to its habits and he is generally able to write an interesting paper on the subject in the course of an evening. At some leisure moment this is again revised and corrected: the scientific details he leaves to the last.

Early in March, 1834, Audubon left his friends in Charleston, and with his wife and son passed northward to Washington and Baltimore. From the latter city, on March 9, he wrote to Edward Harris, in part as follows:

Friends such as you have been, and are still, are the only recompense such poor individuals such as I am can enjoy in this world, and the more valued as they are so very rare.

We came from Charleston by land to Norfolk; thence to Washington City by steamer in 20 hours, and in 8 to the city here, well fatigued but safely.... At Washington, where we remained only an hour, Col. J. Abert told me something connected with the climbing of Rattlesnakes upon trees &c. that will make your mouth water, and your generous heart leap with joy, when you read [about] them, which you shall do ere long, I give you my word for it.

Audubon was still in Baltimore on March 15, for on that day he gave Harris a letter of introduction to Edward Everett. New York was reached in April, when he wrote to Bachman that they had secured berths in "that fine packet ship the North America," which was to sail on the tenth of that month.

J.G. CHILDREN

AFTER AN ENGRAVING BY W. RADDON OF A PORTRAIT BY EDDIS, 1839.