Alleghanies to Pittsburg, down the Ohio by boat to Louisville, where
he saw Victor and John. "Dear boys!" he says; "I had not seen Victor
for nearly five years, and so much had he changed I hardly knew him,
but he recognized me at once. Johnny too had much grown and improved."
Remaining with his sons a few days, he again took the boat for Bayou
Sara, where he landed in the middle of the night. The journal says:
"It was dark, sultry, and I was quite alone. I was aware yellow fever
was still raging at St. Francisville, but walked thither to procure a
horse. Being only a mile distant, I soon reached it, and entered the
open door of a house I knew to be an inn; all was dark and silent. I
called and knocked in vain, it was the abode of Death alone! The air
was putrid; I went to another house, another, and another; everywhere
the same state of things existed; doors and windows were all open, but
the living had fled. Finally I reached the home of Mr. Nuebling, whom I
knew. He welcomed me, and lent me his horse, and I went off at a
gallop. It was so dark that I soon lost my way, but I cared not, I was
about to rejoin my wife, I was in the woods, the woods of Louisiana,
my heart was bursting with joy! The first glimpse of dawn set me on
my road, at six o'clock I was at Mr. Johnson's house;[44] a servant
took the horse, I went at once to my wife's apartment; her door was
ajar, already she was dressed and sitting by her piano, on which a
young lady was playing. I pronounced her name gently, she saw me, and
the next moment I held her in my arms. Her emotion was so great I
feared I had acted rashly, but tears relieved our hearts, once more we
were together."
Audubon remained in Louisiana with his wife till January, 1830, when
together they went to Louisville, Washington, Philadelphia, and New
York, whence they sailed for England in April. All his former friends
welcomed them on their arrival, and the kindness the naturalist had
received on his first visit was continued to his wife as well as
himself. Finding many subscribers had not paid, and others had lapsed,
he again painted numerous pictures for sale, and journeyed hither and
yon for new subscribers as well as to make collections.
Mrs. Audubon, meanwhile, had taken lodgings in London, but that city
being no more to her taste than to her husband's, she joined him, and
they travelled together till October, when to Audubon's joy he found
himself at his old lodgings at 26 George St., Edinburgh, where he felt
truly at home with Mrs. Dickie; and here he began the "Ornithological
Biography," with many misgivings, as the journal bears witness: "Oct.
16, 1830. I know that I am a poor writer, that I scarcely can manage
to scribble a tolerable English letter, and not a much better one in
French, though that is easier to me. I know I am not a scholar, but
meantime I am aware that no man living knows better than I do the
habits of our birds; no man living has studied them as much as I have
done, and with the assistance of my old journals and memorandum-books
which were written on the spot, I can at least put down plain truths,
which may be useful and perhaps interesting, so I shall set to at
once. I cannot, however, give _scientific_ descriptions, and here must
have assistance."
His choice of an assistant would have been his friend Mr. William
Swainson, but this could not be arranged, and Mr. James Wilson
recommended Mr. William MacGillivray.[45] Of this gentleman Mr. D. G.
Elliot says:[46] "No better or more fortunate choice could have been
made. Audubon worked incessantly, MacGillivray keeping abreast of him,
and Mrs. Audubon re-wrote the entire manuscript to send to America,
and secure the copyright there." The happy result of this association
of two great men, so different in most respects as Audubon and
MacGillivray, is characterized by Dr. Coues in the following terms
("Key to North American Birds," 2d ed., 1884, p. xxii): "Vivid and
ardent was his genius, matchless he was both with pen and pencil in
giving life and spirit to the beautiful objects he delineated with
passionate love; but there was a strong and patient worker by his
side,--William MacGillivray, the countryman of Wilson, destined to
lend the sturdy Scotch fibre to an Audubonian epoch.[47] The brilliant
French-American Naturalist was little of a 'scientist'. Of his work
the magical beauties of form and color and movement are all his; his
page is redolent of Nature's fragrance; but MacGillivray's are the
bone and sinew, the hidden anatomical parts beneath the lovely face,
the nomenclature, the classification,--in a word, the technicalities
of the science."
[Illustration: MRS. AUDUBON.
FROM THE MINIATURE BY F. CRUIKSHANK, 1835.]
Though somewhat discouraged at finding that no less than three
editions of Alexander Wilson's "American Ornithology" were about to be
published, Audubon went bravely on. My grandmother wrote to her sons:
"Nothing is heard, but the steady movement of the pen; your father is
up and at work before dawn, and writes without ceasing all day. Mr.
MacGillivray breakfasts at nine each morning, attends the Museum four
days in the week, has several works on hand besides ours, and is
moreover engaged as a lecturer in a new seminary on botany and natural
history. His own work[48] progresses slowly, but surely, for he writes
until far into the night."
The first volume of "Ornithological Biography" was finished, but no
publisher could be found to take it, so Audubon published it himself
in March, 1831.[49] During this winter an agreement had been made with
Mr. J. B. Kidd to copy some of the birds, put in backgrounds, sell
them, and divide the proceeds. Eight were finished and sold
immediately, and the agreement continued till May, 1, 1831, when
Audubon was so annoyed by Mr. Kidd's lack of industry that the copying
was discontinued. Personally, I have no doubt that many of the
paintings which are said to be by Audubon are these copies. They are
all on mill-board,--a material, however, which grandfather used
himself, so that, as he rarely signed an oil painting,[50] the
mill-board is no proof of identity one way or the other.
On April 15, 1831, Mr. and Mrs. Audubon left Edinburgh for London,
then went on to Paris, where there were fourteen subscribers. They
were in France from May until the end of July, when London again
received them. On August 2d they sailed for America, and landed on
September 4th. They went to Louisville at once, where Mrs. Audubon
remained with her sons, and the naturalist went south, his wish being
to visit Florida and the adjacent islands. It was on this trip that,
stopping at Charleston, S.C., he made the acquaintance of the Rev.
John Bachman[51] in October, 1831. The two soon became the closest
friends, and this friendship was only severed by death. Never were men
more dissimilar in character, but both were enthusiastic and devoted
naturalists; and herein was the bond, which later was strengthened by
the marriages of Victor and John to Dr. Bachman's two eldest
daughters.[52]
The return from Florida in the spring of 1832 was followed by a
journey to New Brunswick and Maine, when, for the first time in many
years, the whole family travelled together. They journeyed in the most
leisurely manner, stopping where there were birds, going on when they
found none, everywhere welcomed, everywhere finding those willing to
render assistance to the "American backwoodsman" in his researches.
Audubon had the simplicity and charm of manner which interested others
at once, and his old friend Dr. Bachman understood this when he
wrote: "Audubon has _given_ to him what nobody else can _buy_." On
this Maine journey, the friendship between the Lincolns at
Dennysville, begun in the wanderer's earlier years, was renewed, and
with this hospitable family Mrs. Audubon remained while her husband
and sons made their woodland researches.
In October of 1832, Victor sailed for England, to superintend the
publishing of the work; his father remained in America drawing and
re-drawing, much of the time in Boston, where, as everywhere, many
friends were made, and where he had a short, but severe illness--an
unusual experience with him. In the spring of 1833, the long proposed
trip to Labrador was planned and undertaken.
The schooner "Ripley," Captain Emery commanding, was chartered.
Audubon was accompanied by five young men, all under twenty-four years
of age, namely: Joseph Coolidge, George C. Shattuck, William Ingalls,
Thomas Lincoln and John Woodhouse, the naturalist's younger son. On
June 6 they sailed for the rocky coasts and storm-beaten islands,
which are so fully described in the Labrador Journal, now first
published entire in the present work.
Victor was still in England, and to him his father wrote, on May 16,
1833, a long letter filled with careful directions as to the
completion of the work now so far accomplished, and which was so
dear--as it is to-day--to all the family. The entire letter is too
long and too personal to give beyond a few extracts: "Should the
Author of all things deprive us of our lives, work for and comfort the
dear being who gave you birth. Work for her, my son, as long as it may
be the pleasure of God to grant her life; never neglect her a moment;
in a word, prove to her that you are truly _a son_! Continue the
publication of our work to the last; you have in my journals all
necessary facts, and in yourself sufficient ability to finish the
letter-press, with the assistance of our worthy friend John Bachman,
as well as MacGillivray. If you should deem it wise to remove the
publication of the work to this country, I advise you to settle in
Boston; _I have faith in the Bostonians_. I entreat you to be careful,
industrious, and persevering; pay every one most punctually, and never
permit your means to be over-reached. May the blessings of those who
love you be always with you, supported by those of Almighty God."
During the Labrador voyage, which was both arduous and expensive, many
bird-skins (seventy-three) were prepared and brought back, besides the
drawings made, a large collection of plants, and other curiosities.
Rough as the experience was, it was greatly enjoyed, especially by the
young men. Only one of these[53] is now living (1897), and he bears
this testimony to the character of the naturalist, with whom he spent
three months in the closest companionship. In a letter to me dated
Oct. 9, 1896, he says: "You had only to meet him to love him; and when
you had conversed with him for a moment, you looked upon him as an old
friend, rather than a stranger.... To this day I can see him, a
magnificent gray-haired man, childlike in his simplicity,
kind-hearted, noble-souled, lover of nature and lover of youth, friend
of humanity, and one whose religion was the golden rule."
The Labrador expedition ended with summer, and Mr. and Mrs. Audubon
went southward by land, John going by water to meet them at
Charleston, S.C.,--Victor meanwhile remaining in London. In the ever
hospitable home of the Bachmans part of the winter of 1833-34 was
spent, and many a tale is told of hunting parties, of camping in the
Southern forests, while the drawings steadily increased in number.
Leaving Charleston, the travels were continued through North and South
Carolina and northward to New York, when the three sailed for
Liverpool April 16, and joined Victor in London, in May, 1834.
It has been erroneously stated that Audubon kept no journals during
this second visit to England and Scotland, for the reasons that his
family--for whom he wrote--was with him, and also that he worked so
continuously for the "Ornithological Biography;" but this is a
mistake. Many allusions to the diaries of these two years from April,
1834, until August, 1836, are found, and conclusive proof is that
Victor writes: "On the 19th of July last, 1845, the copper-plates from
which the "Birds of America" had been printed were ruined by fire,[54]
though not entirely destroyed, as were many of my fathers
journals,--most unfortunately those which he had written during his
residence in London and Edinburgh while writing and publishing the
letter-press."
It was at this time that Victor and John went to the Continent for
five months, being with their parents the remainder of the time, both
studying painting in their respective branches, Victor working at
landscapes, John at portraits and birds.
In July, 1836, Audubon and John returned to America, to find that
nearly everything in the way of books, papers, the valuable and
curious things collected both at home and abroad, had been destroyed
in New York in the fire of 1835, Mr. Berthoud's warehouse being one of
those blown up with gunpowder to stay the spread of the fire. Mrs.
Audubon and Victor remained in London, in the house where they had
lived some time, 4 Wimpole St., Cavendish Square. After a few weeks in
New York, father and son went by land to Charleston, pausing at
Washington and other cities; and being joined by Mr. Edward Harris in
the spring of 1837, they left Dr. Bachman's where they had spent the
winter, for the purpose of exploring part of the coast of the Gulf of
Mexico. This expedition they were assisted in making by Col. John
Abert,[55] who procured them the Revenue cutter "Campbell." Fire
having afterward (in 1845) destroyed the journals of this period, only
a few letters remain to tell us of the coasting voyage to Galveston
Bay, Texas, though the ornithological results of this journey are all
in the "Birds of America." It was during this visit to Charleston that
the plans were begun which led to the "Quadrupeds of North America,"
under the joint authorship of Audubon and Bachman.[56]
In the late summer of 1837, Audubon, with John and his wife,--for he
had married Maria, Dr. Bachman's eldest daughter,--returned to
England, his last voyage there, and remained abroad until the autumn
of 1839, when the family, with the addition of the first
grandchild,[57] once more landed in America, and settled, if such
wanderers can ever be said to settle, in New York, in the then uptown
region of 86 White St.
The great ornithological work had been finished, absolutely
completed,[58] in the face of incredible delays and difficulties, and
representing an amount of work which in these days of easy travel it
is hard to comprehend. The "Synopsis" also was published in this year,
and the indefatigable worker began at once the octavo edition of the
"Birds," and the drawings of the quadrupeds. For this edition of the
"Birds" Victor attended almost wholly to the printing and publishing,
and John reduced every drawing to the required size with the aid of
the camera lucida, Audubon devoting his time to the coloring and
obtaining of subscribers.
Having fully decided to settle in New York City, and advised their
friends to that effect, Audubon found he could not live in any city,
except, as he writes, "perhaps fair Edinburgh;" so in the spring of
1842, the town house was sold, and the family moved to "Minniesland,"
now known as Audubon Park, in the present limits of New York City. The
name came from the fact that my father and uncle always used the
Scotch name "Minnie" for mother. The land when bought was deeded to
her, and always spoken of as _Minnie's land_, and this became the name
which the Audubons gave it, by which to day those of us who are left
recall the lovely home where their happy childhood was spent; for here
were born all but three of the fourteen grandchildren.
No railroad then separated the lawn from the beach where Audubon so
often hauled the seine; the dense woods all around resounded to the
songs of the birds he so loved; many animals (deer, elk, moose, bears,
wolves, foxes, and smaller quadrupeds) were kept in enclosures--never
in cages--mostly about a quarter of a mile distant from the river,
near the little building known as the "painting house." What joyous
memories are those of the rush out of doors, lessons being over, to
the little brook, following which one gathered the early blossoms in
their season, or in the autumn cleared out leaves, that its waters
might flow unimpeded, and in winter found icicles of wondrous shape
and beauty; and just beyond its source stood the painting house, where
every child was always welcome,[59] where the wild flowers from hot
little hands were painted in the pictures of what we called "the
animals," to the everlasting pride and glory of their finder.
It was hoped that only shorter trips would now be taken, and a visit
to Canada as far as Quebec was made in August and September of 1842.
But even in this home after his own tastes, where hospitality and
simplicity ruled, Audubon could not stay, for his heart had always
been set on going farther west, and though both family and friends
thought him growing too old for such a journey, he started in March,
1843, for St. Louis, and thence up the Missouri on the steamboat
"Omega" of the American Fur Company, which left on its annual trip
April 25, 1843, taking up supplies of all sorts, and returning with
thousands of skins and furs. Here again Audubon speaks for himself,
and I shall not now anticipate his account with words of mine, as the
Missouri journal follows in full. He was accompanied on this trip by
Mr. Edward Harris, his faithful friend of many years, John G. Bell as
taxidermist, Isaac Sprague as artist, and Lewis Squires as secretary
and general assistant. With the exception of Mr. Harris, all were
engaged by Audubon, who felt his time was short, his duties many,
while the man of seventy (?) had no longer the strength of youth.
November of 1843 saw him once more at Minniesland, and the _long_
journeys were forever over; but work on the "Quadrupeds" was continued
with the usual energy. The next few years were those of great
happiness. His valued friend Dr. Thomas M. Brewer, of Boston, visited
him in 1846. Writing of him Dr. Brewer says:[60] "The patriarch had
greatly changed since I had last seen him. He wore his hair longer,
and it now hung down in locks of snowy whiteness on his shoulders. His
once piercing gray eyes, though still bright, had already begun to
fail him. He could no longer paint with his wonted accuracy, and had
at last, most reluctantly, been forced to surrender to his sons the
task of completing the illustrations to the "Quadrupeds of North
America." Surrounded by his large family, including his devoted wife,
his two sons with their wives,[61] and quite a troop of grandchildren,
his enjoyments of life seemed to leave him little to desire.... A
pleasanter scene, or a more interesting household it has never been
the writer's good fortune to witness."
Of this period one of his daughters-in-law[62] speaks in her journal
as follows: "Mr. Audubon was of a most kindly nature; he never passed
a workman or a stranger of either sex without a salutation, such as,
'Good-day, friend,' 'Well, my good man, how do you do?' If a boy, it
was, 'Well, my little man,' or a little girl, 'Good morning, lassie,
how are you to-day?' All were noticed, and his pleasant smile was so
cordial that all the villagers and work-people far and near, knew and
liked him. He painted a little after his return from the Yellowstone
River, but as he looked at his son John's animals, he said: 'Ah,
Johnny, no need for the old man to paint any more when you can do work
like that.' He was most affectionate in his disposition, very fond of
his grandchildren, and it was a pleasant sight to see him sit with one
on his knee, and others about him, singing French songs in his lively
way. It was sweet too, to see him with his wife; he was always her
lover, and invariably used the pronouns 'thee' and 'thou' in his
speech to her. Often have I heard him say, 'Well, sweetheart! always
busy; come sit thee down a few minutes and rest.'"
My mother has told me that when the picture of the Cougars came from
Texas, where my father had painted it, my grandfather's delight knew
no bounds. He was beside himself with joy that "his boy Johnny" could
paint a picture he considered so fine; he looked at it from every
point, and could not keep quiet, but walked up and down filled with
delight.
Of these years much might be said, but much has already been written
of them, so I will not repeat.[63] Many characteristics Audubon kept
to the last; his enthusiasm, freshness, and keenness of enjoyment and
pain were never blunted. His ease and grace of speech and movement
were as noticeable in the aged man as they had been in the happy youth
of Mill Grove. His courteous manners to all, high and low, were always
the same; his chivalry, generosity, and honor were never dimmed, and
his great personal beauty never failed to attract attention; always he
was handsome. His stepmother writes from Nantes to her husband in
Virginia: "He is the handsomest boy in Nantes, but perhaps not the
most studious." At Mill Grove Mr. David Pawling wrote in January,
1805: "To-day I saw the swiftest skater I ever beheld; backwards and
forwards he went like the wind, even leaping over large air-holes
fifteen or more feet across, and continuing to skate without an
instant's delay. I was told he was a young Frenchman, and this evening
I met him at a ball, where I found his dancing exceeded his skating;
all the ladies wished him as partner; moreover, a handsomer man I
never saw, his eyes alone command attention; his name, Audubon, is
strange to me."
[Illustration: AUDUBON.
DATE UNKNOWN. FROM A DAGUERREOTYPE OWNED BY M. ELIZA AUDUBON.]
Abroad it was the same; Mr. Rathbone speaks of "his beautiful
expressive face," as did Christopher North, and so on until the beauty
of youth and manhood passed into the "magnificent gray-haired man."
But "the gay young Frenchman who danced with all the girls," was an
old man now, not so much as the years go, but in the intensity of his
life. He had never done anything by halves; he had played and worked,
enjoyed and sorrowed, been depressed and elated, each and all with his
highly strung nature at fever heat, and the end was not far. He had
seen the accomplishment of his hopes in the "Birds," and the
"Quadrupeds" he was content to leave largely to other hands; and
surely no man ever had better helpers. From first to last his wife had
worked, in more ways than one, to further the aim of his life; Victor
had done the weary mechanical business work; John had hunted, and
preserved specimens, taken long journeys--notably to Texas and
California--and been his father's travelling companion on more than
one occasion. Now the time had come when he no longer led; Victor had
full charge of the publication of the "Quadrupeds," besides putting in
many of the backgrounds, and John painted a large proportion of the
animals. But I think that none of them regarded their work as
individual,--it was always _ours_, for father and sons were comrades
and friends; and with Dr. Bachman's invaluable aid this last work was
finished, but not during Audubon's life. He travelled more or less in
the interests of his publications during these years, largely in New
England and in the Middle States.
In 1847 the brilliant intellect began to be dimmed; at first it was
only the difficulty of finding the right word to express an idea, the
gradual lessening of interest, and this increased till in May, 1848,
Dr. Bachman tells the pathetic close of the enthusiastic and active
life: "Alas, my poor friend Audubon! The outlines of his beautiful
face and form are there, but his noble mind is all in ruins. It is
indescribably sad."
Through these last years the devotion of the entire household was his.
He still loved to wander in the woods, he liked to hear his wife read
to him, and music was ever a delight. To the very last his
daughter-in-law, Mrs. Victor G. Audubon, sang a little Spanish song to
him every evening, rarely permitting anything to interfere with what
gave him so much pleasure, and evening by evening he listened to the
_Buenas Noches_, which was so soon to be his in reality.
His grandchildren, also, were a constant source of enjoyment to him,
and he to them, for children always found a friend in him; and thus
quietly did he pass through that valley which had no shadows for him.
I wish to wholly correct the statement that Audubon became blind. His
sight became impaired by old age, as is usually the case; he abhorred
spectacles or glasses of any kind, would not wear them except
occasionally, and therefore did not get the right focus for objects
near by; but his far-sight was hardly impaired. That wonderful vision
which surprised even the keen-eyed Indian never failed him.
[Illustration: AUDUBON MONUMENT IN TRINITY CHURCH CEMETERY, NEW YORK.
_The reverse of the base bears the inscription_--
Erected to the Memory of
JOHN JAMES AUDUBON
In the year 1893, by subscriptions raised by the
New York Academy of Science.]
Well do I remember the tall figure with snow-white hair, wandering
peacefully along the banks of the beautiful Hudson. Already he was
resting in that border land which none can fathom, and it could not
have been far to go, no long and weary journey, when, after a few days
of increasing feebleness, for there was no illness, just as sunset was
flooding the pure, snow-covered landscape with golden light, at five
o'clock on Monday, January 27, 1851, the "pard-like spirit, beautiful
and swift, ... outsoared the shadow of our night."
* * * * *