miserably so; the uncertainty as to my reception, my doubts as to how
my work would be received, all conspired to depress me. Now, how
different are my sensations! I am well received everywhere, my works
praised and admired, and my poor heart is at last relieved from the
great anxiety that has for so many years agitated it, for I know now
that I have not worked in vain. This morning I went to church; the
sermon was not to my mind, but the young preacher may improve. This
afternoon I packed up Harlan's "Fauna" for Mr. E. Roscoe, and went to
the Institution, where Mr. Munro was to meet me and escort me to Mr.
Wm. Roscoe, Jr., where I was to take tea. Mr. Munro was not on hand,
so, after a weary waiting, I went alone to Mr. Roscoe's habitation. It
was full of ladies and gentlemen, all his own family, and I knew
almost every one. I was asked to imitate the calls of some of the wild
birds, and though I did not wish to do so, consented to satisfy the
curiosity of the company. I sat between Mr. Wm. Roscoe and his son
Edward, and answered question after question. Finally, the good old
gentleman and I retired to talk about my plans. He strongly advises me
not to exhibit my works without remuneration. Later more guests came
in, and more questions were asked; they appeared surprised that I have
no wonderful tales to tell, that, for instance, I have not been
devoured at least six times by _tigers_, bears, wolves, foxes; no, I
never was troubled by any larger animals than ticks and mosquitoes,
and that is quite enough. At last one after another took leave. The
_well bred_ society of England is the perfection of manners; such tone
of voice I never heard in America. Indeed, thus far, I have great
reason to like England. My plans now are to go to Manchester, to
Derbyshire to visit Lord Stanley (Earl of Derby), Birmingham, London
for three weeks, Edinburgh, back to London, and then to France, Paris,
Nantes, to see my venerable stepmother, Brussels, and return to
England. I am advised to do this by men of learning and excellent
judgment, who say this will enable me to find where my work may be
published with greatest advantage. I have letters given me to Baron
Humboldt, General La Fayette, Sir Walter Scott, Sir Humphry Davy, Miss
Hannah More, Miss Edgeworth, Sir Thomas Lawrence, etc., etc. How I
wish Victor could be with me; what an opportunity to see the best of
this island; few ordinary individuals ever enjoyed the same reception.
Many persons of distinction have begged drawing lessons of me at a
guinea an hour. I am astonished at the plainness of the ladies' dress;
in the best society there are no furbelows and fandangoes.
_August 7._ I am just now from the society of the learned Dr. Traill,
and have greatly enjoyed two hours of his interesting company; to what
perfection men like him can rise in this island of instruction. I
dined at Mr. Edward Roscoe's, whose wife wished me to draw something
for her while she watched me. I drew a flower for her, and one for
Miss Dale, a fine artist. I am grieved I could not reach "Green Bank"
this evening to enjoy the company of my good friends, the Rathbones;
they with the Roscoes and Hodgsons have done more for me in every way
than I can express. I must have walked twenty miles to-day on these
pavements; that is equal to forty-five in the woods, where there is so
much to see.
_August 8._ Although I am extremely fatigued and it is past midnight,
I will write. Mr. Roscoe spoke much of my exhibiting my drawings for
an admission fee, and he, as well as Dr. Traill and others, have
advised me so strongly to do so that I finally consented, though not
quite agreeable to me, and Mr. Roscoe drew a draft of a notice to be
inserted in the papers, after which we passed some charming hours
together.
_August 9._ The Committee of the Royal Institution met to-day and
_requested_ me to exhibit my drawings by ticket of admission. This
request must and will, I am sure, take off any discredit attached to
the tormenting feeling of showing my work for money.
_August 10._ The morning was beautiful, and I was out very early; the
watchmen have, however, ceased to look upon me with suspicion, and
think, perhaps, I am a harmless lunatic. I walked to the "Mound" and
saw the city and the country beyond the Mersey plainly; then I sat on
the grass and watched four truant boys rolling marbles with great
spirit; how much they brought before me my younger days. I would have
liked them still better had they been _clean_; but they were not so,
and as I gave them some money to buy marbles, I recommended that some
of it be spent in soap. I begin to feel most powerfully the want of
occupation at drawing and studying the habits of the birds that I see
about me; and the little Sparrows that hop in the streets, although
very sooty with coal smoke, attract my attention greatly; indeed, I
watched one of them to-day in the dust of the street, with as much
pleasure as in far different places I have watched the play of finer
birds. All this induced me to begin. I bought water colors and
brushes, for which I paid dearer than in New Orleans. I dined with Mr.
Edward Roscoe. As you go to Park Place the view is extensive up and
down the Mersey; it gives no extraordinary effects, but is a calming
vision of repose to the eyes wearied with the bustle of the streets.
There are plenty of steam vessels, but not to be compared to those on
the Ohio; these look like smoky, dirty dungeons. Immediately opposite
Mr. Roscoe's dwelling is a pond where I have not yet seen a living
thing, not even a frog. No moccasin nor copper-headed snake is near
its margin; no snowy Heron, no Rose-colored Ibis ever is seen here,
wild and charming; no sprightly trout, nor waiting gar-fish, while
above hovers no Vulture watching for the spoils of the hunt, nor Eagle
perched on dreary cypress in a gloomy silence. No! I am in England,
and I cannot but long with unutterable longing for America, charming
as England is, and there is nothing in England more charming than the
Roscoe family. Our dinner is simple, therefore healthful. Two ladies
and a gentleman came in while we were at dessert, and almost as soon
as we left the table tea was announced. It is a singular thing that in
England dinner, dessert, wines, and tea drinking follow each other so
quickly that if we did not remove to another room to partake of the
last, it would be a constant repast. I walked back to Liverpool, and
more than once my eyes were shocked whilst crossing the fields, to see
signs with these words: "Any person trespassing on these grounds will
be prosecuted with the rigor of the law." This must be a mistake,
certainly; this cannot be English freedom and liberty, surely. Of this
I intend to know more hereafter; but that I saw these words painted on
boards there is really no doubt.
_Sunday, August 13._ I am greatly disappointed that not yet have I had
letters from home, though several vessels have arrived; perhaps
to-morrow may bring me what I long for inexpressibly. This morning I
went again to the church for the blind, and spent the remainder of the
day at my kind friend's, Mr. Wm. Roscoe.
_August 14._ This day I have passed with the delightful Rathbone
family at Green Bank; I have been drawing for Mrs. Rathbone,[77] and
after dinner we went through the greenhouse and _jardin potager_. How
charming is Green Bank and the true hospitality of these English
friends. It is a cold night, the wind blowing like November; it has
been the first day of my exhibition of pictures per card, and one
hundred and sixty-four persons were admitted.
_August 15. Green Bank, three miles from Liverpool._ I am now at
this quiet country home; the morning passed in drawing, and this
afternoon I took a long walk with Miss Rathbone and her nephew; we
were accompanied by a rare dog from Kamschatka. How I did wish _I_
could have conducted them towards the beech woods where we could move
wherever fancy led us; but no, it could not be, and we walked between
dreary walls, without the privilege of advancing towards any
particular object that might attract the eye. Is it not shocking that
while in England all is hospitality _within_, all is so different
_without_? No one dare _trespass_, as it is called. Signs of _large
dogs_ are put up; steel traps and spring guns are set up, and even
_eyes_ are kept out by high walls. Everywhere we meet beggars, for
England though rich, has poverty gaping every way you look, and the
beggars ask for _bread_,--yes, absolutely for food. I can only pray,
May our Heavenly Father have mercy on them.
_August 17._ _Green Bank._ This morning I lay on the grass a long time
listening to the rough voice of a Magpie; it is not the same bird that
we have in America. I drove to the Institution with the _Queen Bee_ of
Green Bank, and this afternoon began a painting of the Otter in a
trap, with the intention to present it (if it is good) to my friend
Mr. Roscoe's wife. This evening dined at Mr. Wm. Rathbone's, and there
met a Quaker lady, Mrs. Abigail ----, who talked much and well about
the present condition of England, her poor, her institutions, etc. It
is dreadful to know of the want of bread here; will it not lead to the
horrors of another revolution? The children of the very poor are often
forced by their parents to collect daily a certain amount by
begging, or perhaps even stealing; failing to obtain this they are
cruelly punished on their return home, and the tricks they resort to,
to gain their ends, are numberless and curious. The newspapers abound
with such accounts, and are besides filled with histories of murders,
thefts, hangings, and other abominable acts; I can scarce look at
them.
[Illustration: FLYCATCHERS. (_Heretofore unpublished._)
From a drawing made by Audubon in 1826, and presented to Mrs. Rathbone
of Green Bank, Liverpool.
Still in the possession of the Rathbone family.]
_August 19._ Dined with Mr. A. Melly in Grenville St. The dinner was
quite _a la francaise_, all gayety, witticism, and good cheer. The
game, however, was what I call _highly tainted_, the true flavor for
the lords of England.
_August 21._ I painted many hours this day, finished my Otter; it was
viewed by many and admired. I was again invited to remove to Green
Bank, but declined until I have painted the Wild Turkey cock for the
Royal Institution, say three days more.
_September 4._ Having been too busy to write for many days, I can only
relate the principal facts that have taken place. I have been to two
very notable suppers, one at Dr. Traill's in company with the French
consul and two other French gentlemen; I was much encouraged, and
urged to visit France at once. The other at the house of Mr. Molineux;
there indeed my ears were feasted; such entertaining conversation,
such delightful music; Mr. Clementi[78] and Mr. Tomlinson from London
were present. Many persons came to my painting room, they wonder at
the rapidity of my work and that I can paint fourteen hours without
fatigue. My Turkeys are now framed, and hung at the Institution which
is open daily, and paying well. I have made many small drawings for
different friends. All my Sundays are alike,--breakfast with Mr.
Melly, church with the blind, dinner with Mr. Roscoe. Every one is
surprised at my habits of early rising, and at my rarely touching
meat, except game.
_Green Bank, September 6._ When I reached this place I was told that
Lady Isabella Douglass, the sister of Lord Selkirk, former governor of
Canada, was here; she is unable to walk, and moves about in a rolling
chair. At dinner I sat between her and Mrs. Rathbone, and I enjoyed
the conversation of Lady Douglass much, her broad Scotch accent is
agreeable to me; and I amused her by eating some tomatoes raw; neither
she, nor any of the company had ever seen them on the table without
being cooked.
_September 9._ Dr. Traill has ordered all my drawings to be packed by
the curator of the Institution, so that has given me no trouble
whatever. It is hard to say farewell to all those in town and country
who have been so kind, so hospitable to me, but to-morrow I leave for
Manchester, where Mr. Roscoe advises me to go next.
_Manchester, County of Lancashire, September 10, 1826._ I must write
something of my coming here. After bidding adieu to many friends, I
went to Dr. Traill, who most kindly insisted on my taking Mr. Munro
with me for two days to assist me, and we left by coach with my
portfolios, my trunk to follow by a slower conveyance. I paid one
pound for our inside seats. I felt depressed at leaving all my good
friends, yet Mr. Munro did all in his power to interest me. He made me
remark Lord Stanley's domains, and I looked on the Hares, Partridges,
and other game with a thought of apprehension that the apparent
freedom and security they enjoyed was very transient. I thought it
more cruel to permit them to grow tame and gentle, and then suddenly
to turn and murder them by thousands, than to give them the fair show
that our game has in our forests, to let them be free and as wild as
nature made them, and to let the hunter pay for them by the pleasure
and work of pursuing them. We stopped, I thought frequently, to renew
the horses, and wherever we stopped a neatly dressed maid offered
cakes, ale, or other refreshments for sale. I remarked little shrubs
in many parts of the meadows that concealed traps for moles and
served as beacons for the persons who caught them. The road was good,
but narrow, the country in a high degree of cultivation. We crossed a
canal conducting from Liverpool here; the sails moving through the
meadows reminded me of Rochester, N.Y. I am, then, now at Manchester,
thirty-eight miles from Liverpool, and nearly six thousand from
Louisiana.
_Manchester, September 12._ Yesterday was spent in delivering my
letters to the different persons to whom I was recommended. The
American consul, Mr. J. S. Brookes, with whom I shall dine to-morrow,
received me as an American gentleman receives another, most cordially.
The principal banker here, Arthur Heywood, Esq., was equally kind;
indeed _everywhere_ I meet a most amiable reception. I procured,
through these gentlemen, a good room to exhibit my pictures, in the
Exchange buildings, had it cleared, cleaned, and made ready by night.
At five this morning Mr. Munro (the curator of the Institution at
Liverpool and a most competent help) with several assistants and
myself began putting up, and by eleven all was ready. Manchester, as I
have seen it in my walks, seems a miserably laid out place, and the
smokiest I ever was in. I think I ought not to use the words "laid
out" at all. It is composed of an astonishing number of small, dirty,
narrow, crooked lanes, where one cart can scarce pass another. It is
full of noise and tumult; I thought last night not one person could
have enjoyed repose. The postilion's horns, joined to the cry of the
watchmen, kept my eyelids asunder till daylight again gave me leave to
issue from the King's Arms. The population appears denser and worse
off than in Liverpool. The vast number of youth of both sexes, with
sallow complexions, ragged apparel, and downcast looks, made me feel
they were not as happy as the slaves of Louisiana. Trade is slowly
improving, but the times are dull. I have heard the _times_ abused
ever since my earliest recollections. I saw to-day several members of
the Gregg family.
_September 13, Wednesday._ I have visited the Academy of Sciences; my
time here was largely spoiled by one of those busybodies who from time
to time rise to the surface,--a dealer in stuffed specimens, and there
ends his history. I wished him in Hanover, or Congo, or New Zealand,
or Bombay, or in a bomb-shell _en route_ to eternity. Mr. Munro left
me to-day, and I removed from the hotel to the house of a Mrs. Edge,
in King Street, who keeps a circulating library; here I have more
quietness and a comfortable parlor and bedroom. I engaged a man named
Crookes, well recommended, to attend as money receiver at the door of
my exhibition room. I pay him fifteen shillings per week; he finds
himself, and copies letters for me. Two men came to the exhibition
room and inquired if I wished a band of music to entertain the
visitors. I thanked them, but do not consider it necessary in the
company of so many songsters. My pictures here must depend on their
_real_ value; in Liverpool I _knew_ I was supported by my particular
friends.... It is eleven o'clock, and I have just returned from Consul
Brookes' dinner. The company were all gentlemen, among whom were Mr.
Lloyd, the wealthy banker, and Mr. Garnet. Our host is from Boston, a
most intelligent and polite man. Judge of my surprise when, during the
third course, I saw on the table a dish of Indian corn, purposely for
me. To see me eat it buttered and salted, held as if I intended
gagging myself, was a matter of much wonder to the English gentlemen,
who did not like the vegetable. We had an English dinner Americanized,
and the profusion of wines, and the quantity drank was uncomfortable
to me; I was constantly obliged to say, "No." The gentleman next me
was a good naturalist; much, of course, was said about my work and
that of Charles Bonaparte. The conversation turned on politics, and
Mr. Brookes and myself, the only Americans present, ranged ourselves
and toasted "Our enemies in war, but our friends in peace." I am
particularly fond of a man who speaks well of his country, and the
peculiar warmth of Englishmen on this subject is admirable. I have had
a note from Lord de Tabelay, who is anxious to see my drawings and me,
and begs me to go to his domain fourteen miles distant, on my way to
Birmingham. I observed that many persons who visited the exhibition
room investigated my style more closely than at Liverpool. A Dr. Hulme
spent several hours both yesterday and to-day looking at them, and I
have been asked many times if they were for sale. I walked some four
miles out of the town; the country is not so verdant, nor the country
seats so clean-looking, as Green Bank for instance. The funnels raised
from the manufactories to carry off the smoke appear in hundreds in
every direction, and as you walk the street, the whirring sound of
machinery is constantly in your ears. The changes in the weather are
remarkable; at daylight it rained hard, at noon it was fair, this
afternoon it rained again, at sunset was warm, and now looks like a
severe frost.
_September 14, Thursday._ I have dined to-day at the home of Mr.
George W. Wood, about two miles from the town. He drove me thither in
company with four gentlemen, all from foreign countries, Mexico,
Sumatra, Constantinople, and La Guayra; all were English and had been
travelling for business or pleasure, not for scientific or literary
purposes. Mrs. Wood was much interested in her gardens, which are very
fine, and showed me one hundred bags of black gauze, which she had
made to protect as many bunches of grapes from the wasps.
_September 15._ FROST. This morning the houses were covered with
frost, and I felt uncommonly cold and shivery. My exhibition was
poorly attended, but those who came seemed interested. Mr. Hoyle, the
eminent chemist, came with four very pretty little daughters, in
little gray satin bonnets, gray silk spencers, and white petticoats,
as befitted them, being Quakers; also Mr. Heywood, the banker, who
invited me to dine next Sunday. I spent the evening at the Rev. James
I. Taylor's, in company with himself, his wife, and two gentlemen, one
a Parisian. I cannot help expressing my surprise that the people of
England, generally speaking, are so unacquainted with the customs and
localities of our country. The principal conversation about it always
turns to Indians and their ways, as if the land produced nothing else.
Almost every lady in England draws in water-colors, many of them
extremely well, very much better than I ever will do, yet few of them
dare to show their productions. Somehow I do not like Manchester.
_September 17, Sunday._ I have been thinking over my stay in
Liverpool; surely I can never express, much less hope to repay, my
indebtedness to my many friends there, especially the Roscoes, the
three families of Rathbone, and Dr. Thomas S. Traill. My drawings were
exhibited for four weeks without a cent of expense to me, and brought
me L100. I gave to the Institution a large piece, the wild Turkey
Cock; to Mrs. Rathbone, Sr., the Otter in a trap, to Mr. Roscoe a
Robin, and to many of my other friends some small drawing, as mementos
of one who will always cherish their memories. I wrote a long letter
to my son John Woodhouse urging him to spend much of his time at
drawing _from nature only_, and to keep every drawing with the date,
that he may trace improvement, if any, also to speak French
constantly, that he may not forget a language in which he is now
perfect. I have also written to the Governor of New York, his
Excellency De Witt Clinton, to whose letters I am indebted for much of
my cordial reception here. At two I started for Clermont, Mr.
Heywood's residence, where I was to dine. The grounds are fine, and on
a much larger scale than Green Bank, but the style is wholly
different. The house is immense, but I was kindly received and felt
at ease at once. After dinner the ladies left us early. We soon
retired to the library to drink tea, and Miss Heywood showed me her
portfolio of drawings, and not long after I took my leave.
_September 18, Monday._ Mr. Sergeant came for me at half-past three
and escorted me to his house. I am delighted with him--his house--his
pictures--his books--his guns--and his dogs, and very much so with a
friend of his from London, who dined with us. The weather has been
beautiful, and more persons than usual at my rooms.
_September 19, Tuesday._ I saw Mr. Melly this morning at the Exchange;
he had not long arrived from Liverpool. He had been to my door-keeper,
examined the _Book of Income_, and told me he was sorry and annoyed at
my want of success, and advised me to go at once to London or Paris.
He depressed me terribly, so that I felt really ill. He invited me to
dine with him, but I told him I had already engaged to go to Mr.
Samuel Gregg[79] at Quarry Bank, fourteen miles distant, to pass the
night. Mr. Gregg, who is the father of a large family, met me as if he
had known me fifty years; with him came his brother William and his
daughter, the carriage was ready, and off we drove. We crossed a river
in the course of our journey nearly fifty feet wide. I was told it was
a stream of great importance: the name I have forgotten,[80] but I
know it is seven miles from Manchester _en route_ to Derbyshire. The
land is highly improved, and grows wheat principally; the country is
pretty, and many of the buildings are really beautiful. We turn down a
declivity to Quarry Bank, a most enchanting spot, situated on the edge
of the same river we had crossed,--the grounds truly picturesque, and
cultivated to the greatest possible extent. In the drawing-room I met
three ladies, the daughters of Mr. Gregg, and the second daughter of
Mr. Wm. Rathbone. After tea I drew a dog in charcoal, and rubbed it
with a cork to give an idea of the improvement over the common stumps
ordinarily used. Afterwards I accompanied the two brothers to a
debating club, instituted on their premises for the advancement of
their workmen; on the way we passed a chapel and a long row of
cottages for the work-people, and finally reached the schoolroom,
where about thirty men had assembled. The question presented was
"Which was the more advantageous, the discovery of the compass, or
that of the art of printing?" I listened with interest, and later
talked with the men on some of the wonders of my own country, in which
they seemed to be much interested.
_Quarry Bank, September 20._ Though the weather was cloudy and
somewhat rainy, I rose early, took an immense walk, up and down the
river, through the gardens, along the road, and about the woods,
fields, and meadows; saw a flock of Partridges, and at half-past eight
had done this and daubed in a sketch of an Esquimau in a sledge, drawn
by four dogs. The offer was made me to join a shooting party in the
afternoon; all was arranged, and the pleasure augmented by the
presence of Mr. Shaw, the principal game-keeper of Lord Stanford, who
obligingly promised to show us many _birds_ (so are Partridges
called). Our guns are no longer than my arm, and we had two good dogs.
Pheasants are not to be touched till the first of October, but an
exception was made for me and one was shot, and I picked it up while
his eye was yet all life, his feathers all brilliancy. We had a fine
walk and saw the Derbyshire hills. Mr. Shaw pocketed five shillings,
and we the game. This was my first hunting on English soil, on Lord
Stanford's domain, where every tree--such as we should call
saplings--was marked and numbered, and for all that I know pays either
a tax to the government or a tithe to the parish. I am told that a
Partridge which crosses the river, or a road, or a boundary, and
alights on ground other than Lord Stanford's, is as safe from his gun
as if in Guinea.
_September 21._ I returned to town this morning with my Pheasant.
Reached my exhibition room and received miserable accounts. I see
plainly that my expenses in Manchester will not be repaid, in which
case I must move shortly. I called on Dr. Hulme and represented the
situation, and he went to the Academy of Natural History and ordered a
committee to meet on Saturday, to see if the Academy could give me a
room. Later I mounted my pheasant, and all is ready for work
to-morrow.
_September 22._ I have drawn all day and am fatigued. Only twenty
people to see my birds; sad work this. The consul, Mr. Brookes, came
to see me, and advised me to have a subscription book for my work. I
am to dine with him at Mr. Lloyd's at one next Sunday.