different classes, depending upon the magnitude of the objects
to be represented; and, although I did not at that time
possess all the specimens necessary, I arranged them as well
as I could into parcels of five plates—I improved the whole as
much as was in my power; and as I daily retired farther from
the haunts of man, determined to leave nothing undone, which
my labor, my time, or my purse could accomplish.[317]
Audubon's journal kept on the lakes has been lost, but that journey was
fresh in mind when he wrote the following letter to Edward Harris.[318]
_Audubon to Edward Harris_
BEECHWOODS. Near BAYOU SARA, LA.
_Jany. 31 1825._
Surely I have not dismerited your esteem; when on the
Lakes, both Ontario and Champlain, I wrote to you—again from
Pittsburgh, all without any answer, and I am sorry to say that
I have been either abandoned or forgotten by all those other
persons who had promised to keep up a correspondence with
me....
The country I visited was new, in great measure, to me. I
have been delighted with the tour, but will forever regret
that your sister's indisposition could not allow you time to
augment my pleasure by your company.
[Audubon offers to send his friend shrubs and fruits from the
South, and concludes;] In fact, my dear Mr. Harris, I am yet
the same man you knew at the corner of 5th, and Minor Streets
[in Philadelphia], and will continue forever the same.
After his tour of the Lakes Audubon returned to Pittsburgh, and on
October 24, 1824, started down the Ohio in a skiff, intending to descend
to the Mississippi and thence reach his family in Louisiana. Bad weather
and lack of funds interfered with this plan, and ere long he was once
more stranded in Cincinnati, where he was beset by claimants for payment
upon articles ordered for the Western Museum five years before. Finding
it difficult at this time to replenish an empty purse, Audubon felt
that he must borrow fifteen dollars, but could not make up his mind
how to ask the favor until he had several times walked past the house
where he had once been known. Nevertheless, he succeeded in obtaining
the necessary funds, took passage on a boat bound for Louisville, and
slept cheerfully that night on a pile of shavings which he managed to
scrape together on deck. "The spirit of contentment which I now feel,"
he wrote, "is strange; it borders on the sublime; and, enthusiastic or
lunatic, as some of my relatives will have me, I am glad to possess such
a spirit"; later he added: "I discover that my friends think only of my
apparel, and those upon whom I have conferred acts of kindness prefer
to remind me of my errors."
Louisville was reached on November 20, and a number of days were spent
in visiting his eldest son, Victor, who was then at Shippingport.[319]
He finally arrived at Bayou Sara in late November, 1824. The captain
of his vessel, which was bound for New Orleans, put him ashore at
midnight, and he was left to grope his way to the village on the hill.
St. Francisville, to his dismay, was nearly deserted, a scourge of
yellow fever having driven most of its inhabitants to the pine woods.
The postmaster, however, was able to assure him that his wife and son
were well, and Mr. Nübling, a friendly German, whom he described as "a
man of cultivation and taste, and a lover of Natural Science," gave him
refreshment and a horse. In his eagerness to cover the fifteen miles to
the Percy house as rapidly as possible, he tried to strike a straight
course through the dark forest, but missed his way, and dawn found him
on unfamiliar ground; he then learned from a negro that he was two miles
beyond the place. When he arrived at last "with rent and wasted clothes,
and uncut hair, and altogether looking like the wandering Jew," his wife
was busily engaged in teaching her pupils. During his absence of nearly
fourteen months she had prospered greatly, and she was not only ready
but eager to place her earnings at her husband's disposal.
When he had finally decided to take his drawings to Europe for
publication, Audubon set to work to increase his capital, and soon had
pupils in French, music, and drawing, while a dancing class of sixty was
organized in a neighboring town. His country lads and lassies proved
rather awkward material, and he broke his bow and nearly ruined his
violin in his impatience to evoke a single graceful step or motion;
when, however, he consented to dance to his own music, he never failed
to bring down thunders of applause. These efforts were continued for
over a year, until he had realized a considerable sum. With this money
in hand, supplemented by what his wife could spare, he determined to
seek his fortunes in the Old World.
CHAPTER XXII
TO EUROPE AND SUCCESS
Audubon sails from New Orleans—Life at Sea—Liverpool—The
Rathbones—Exhibition of drawings an immediate success—Personal
appearance—Painting habits resumed—His pictures and
methods—Manchester visited—Plans for publication—_The
Birds of America_—Welcome at Edinburgh—Lizars engraves the
Turkey Cock—In the _rôle_ of society's lion—His exhibition
described by a French critic—Honors of science and the
arts—Contributions to journals excite criticism—Aristocratic
patrons—Visit to Scott—The Wild Pigeon and the
rattlesnake—Letter to his wife—Prospectus—Journey to London.
When Audubon had reached the age of forty-one, his fortunes were
destined to undergo still further kaleidoscopic changes, but the
patterns and hue were now of a more agreeable character. He had failed
repeatedly in business ventures of various kinds; he had failed also
to find either encouragement or support for his ambitious schemes of
publishing his drawings in the United States. But there was still a
chance for success in the Old World, and thither he was determined to go
to try the hazard of fortune in either England or France. Accordingly,
he left his family at St. Francisville and went to New Orleans, where
he engaged passage on a cotton schooner bound for Liverpool, named the
_Delos_, Captain Joseph E. Hatch. With his drawings, a few books, and
a purse, if not ample, at least sufficient for his immediate needs, and
fortified with numerous letters, he finally set sail on the 17th of May,
1826.
[Illustration: EARLY UNPUBLISHED DRAWING OF THE "FROG-EATER,"
COOPER'S HAWK; "RED BANKS, KY. NOVEMBER 29, 1810. LONGEUR
TOTAL 19 POUCES POIDS 1 lb. 6 oz. QUEUE 12 PENNES."
Published by courtesy of Mr. Joseph Y. Jeanes.]
[Illustration: PENCIL SKETCH FROM AUDUBON'S JOURNAL OF HIS
VOYAGE TO ENGLAND IN 1826: "SHARK 7 FEET LONG, OFF CUBA, JUNE
18TH, 1826."
Published by courtesy of Miss Maria R. Audubon.]
[Illustration: FIRST PAGE OF AUDUBON'S JOURNAL OF HIS VOYAGE
FROM NEW ORLEANS TO LIVERPOOL.
Reproduced by courtesy of the Misses Florence and Maria R.
Audubon.]
This voyage, like every other which the naturalist ever made, was turned
to good account; the log book or journal kept on this occasion abounds
in interesting observations upon the life of the sea, particularly on
the fishes and birds which were encountered in the Gulf. The first page
of this journal,[320] reproduced with orthographic exactness, reads as
follows:
26 April 1826—
I Left My Beloved Wife Lucy Audubon and My Son John Woodhouse
on Tuesday afternoon the 26th April, bound to England,
remained at Doctr Pope at St Francisville untill Wednesday 4
o'clock P. M.: in the Steam Boat Red River Cape Kimble—having
for Compagnons Messrs D. Hall & John Haliday—reached New
Orleans Thursday 27th at 12—Visited Many Vessels for My
Passage and concluded to go in the Ship Delos of Kennebunk
Cape Joseph Hatch bound to Liverpool, Loaded with Cotton
entirely—
The Red River Steam Boat left on her return on Sunday and I
Wrote by her to Thee My Dearest Friend and forwardd Thee 2
Small Boxes of Flowering Plants—
saw, spoke to & walked with Charles Briggs, much altered young
man—
Lived at New Orleans at G. L. Sapinot in Company with Costé—
During My Stay at New Orleans, I saw my old and friendly
acquaintances the familly Pamar; but the whole time spent in
that City was heavy & dull—a few Gentlemen Calld to see My
Drawings—I Generally Walked from Morning untill Dusk My hands
behind me, paying but very partial attention, to all I saw—New
Orleans to a Man who does not trade in Dollars or any other
Such Stuffs is a miserable Spot ==
fatigued and discovering that the Ship could not be ready for
Sea for several days, I ascended the Mississipy again in the
Red River and once more found Myself with my Wife and Child.
I arrived at Mrs Percy at 3 o'clock in the morning, having
had a Dark ride through the Magnolia Woods but the Moments
spent afterwards full repaid me—I remained 2 days and 3
Nights, was a Wedding—of Miss Virginia Chisholm with Mr. D.
Hall &c. I Left in Company With Lucy Mrs Percy house at
Sun rise and went to Breakfast at My good [friend's, Augustin
Bourgeat].
The captain and mates of the _Delos_ were friendly, and whenever their
vessel was becalmed, they would let down a boat so that Audubon could
procure the stormy Petrel and numerous other birds which he was anxious
to examine in the flesh or depict for his "Ornithology."
During his long voyage of sixty-five days our adventurous traveler was
alternately elated or depressed by hopes or fears for the future, until
land was at last reached on Friday, July 21, 1826. The appearance of
Liverpool, said Audubon, "was agreeable, but no sooner had I entered
it than the smoke became so oppressive to my lungs that I could hardly
breathe." At the customs he was charged two pence on each of his
drawings, "as they were water-colored," but on his American books he had
to pay "four pence per pound," a circumstance in which he was possibly
favored by the following letter which he had brought with him from a
friend in New Orleans:
_Edward Holden to George Ramsden_
NEW ORLEANS, _May 26th., 1826_.
GEORGE RAMSDEN, ESQ.
DEAR SIR.
The present will be handed to you by Mr. J. J. Audubon of this
city, whom most respectfully I beg to introduce to you.
The principal object of Mr. Audubon's visit to England is
to make arrangements for the publication of an extensive and
very valuable collection of his drawings in Natural History,
chiefly if not wholly of American Birds, and he takes them
with him for that purpose. Can you be of any assistance to
him by letters to Manchester and London? If you can I have
no doubt that my introduction of him will insure your best
attention and services.—Mr. Audubon is afraid of having to
pay heavy duties upon his drawings. He will describe them to
you, and if in getting them entered Low at the Custom House,
or if in any other respect you can further his views, I shall
consider your aid as an obligation conferred upon myself.
Pray introduce him particularly to Mr. Booth, who I am sure
will feel great interest in being acquainted with him, were
it only on account of the desire he has always expressed to
be of service to the new Manchester Institution, to which Mr.
Audubon's drawings would be an invaluable acquisition.
I am Dr. Sir
Yours truly,
EDWARD HOLDEN.
Among the letters which Audubon carried on this occasion, but which
apparently he did not deliver, was the following, addressed by a friend
in New Orleans to General Lafayette:[321]
_Louis P. Caire to General Lafayette_
NEW ORLEANS, _15 May, 1826_.
MY DEAR GENERAL,
Monsieur Audubon, after having spent twenty-two years
in the United States, is returning to Europe in order to
publish a work to which he has devoted his entire life.
This distinguished ornithologist, who bears letters from
the most eminent citizens of the Union, will find, I trust,
the encouragement to which his talents and his perseverance
so fully entitle him, and however flattering may be the
recommendations which his friends are eager to give him, these
are yet, my dear General, beneath his merits. I have presumed
to assure him of your patronage, and in introducing him to
you I am convinced that it will be agreeable to you both.
Adieu my General: give my kind regards to all your family,
and permit me to embrace you as I love you.
LOUIS P. CAIRE.
Before Audubon left New Orleans, an old acquaintance, Mr. Vincent
Nolte[322] of that city, had also furnished him with credentials, in
which it was stated that the naturalist was carrying with him four
hundred original drawings, and that his object was "to find a purchaser
or a publisher." "He has a crowd of letters," continued Nolte, "from Mr.
Clay, De Witt Clinton, and others for England, which will do much for
him; but your introduction to Mr. Roscoe and others will do more." This
judgment was sound, but the most valuable letter which Audubon carried
proved to be that of Nolte himself addressed to Richard Rathbone, Esq.,
of Liverpool, for it brought him into immediate friendly relations
with an influential family of merchants which also included William
Rathbone, a brother, as well as their father, William Rathbone, Senior,
whose interest in birds had made him in his younger days an amateur
collector and student. Seldom has the _rôle_ of Mæcenas been played more
effectively and with less ostentation than by those intelligent men of
affairs, to whom Audubon, with his fine enthusiasm and bold literary
plans, seemed to embody all the romance of the New World. They stood
sponsor for his work and worth, and did all in their power to make
their new discovery known. At the home of the senior Rathbone, called
"Greenbank," three miles out of Liverpool, the naturalist was warmly
welcomed, and his excellent hostess, Mrs. William Rathbone, the "Queen
bee," as he called her, received from him lessons in drawing and became
his first subscriber.
At this period Audubon often complained of shyness felt in meeting
strangers, but his "observatory nerves," as he said, never gave way.
He studied his English friends as closely as he had the birds of
America, and the results of his shrewd observations were often turned to
practical account. That he was as diffident as he declared himself to be
may be doubted, for he seems to have met nearly everyone of prominence
wherever he went, and a list of his acquaintance at the end of his
sojourn abroad would read much like a "Blue Book" of the British Isles.
At Liverpool Audubon received much assistance also from Edward
Roscoe, botanist and writer, Dr. Thomas S. Traill[323] and Adam
Hodgson, who introduced him to Lord Stanley. When he came to write his
_Ornithological Biography_, these early friends were all publicly called
by name, and we thus had (though, as it afterwards appeared, in name
only) the "Rathbone Warbler,"[324] "Stanley Hawk," "Children's Warbler,"
"Cuvier's Regulus," "Roscoe's Yellow-throat," "Selby's Flycatcher,"
and still possess "Bewick's Wren," "Traill's Flycatcher," "Henslow's
Bunting,"[325] "MacGillivray's Finch," and "Harlan's Hawk," to cite a
few instances of this form of acknowledgment.
Within barely a week after landing at Liverpool a total stranger,
Audubon was invited to show his drawings at the Royal Institution. The
exhibition, which lasted a month, was a surprising success; 413 persons,
as he recorded, were admitted on the second day, and it netted him one
hundred pounds although no charge for admission was made during the
first week.
Everyone, said the naturalist, was surprised at his appearance, for
he wore his hair long, dressed in unfashionable clothes, rose early,
worked late, and was abstemious in food and drink. Shortly after his
arrival, his sister-in-law, Mrs. Alexander Gordon, urged him to have
his hair cut and to buy a fashionable coat, but he could not then
bear to sacrifice his ambrosial locks, which continued to wave over
his shoulders until the following March. If we can accept Sir Walter
Besant's characterization of the period, the "long-haired Achæan"
was no stranger to the streets of London as late as 1837: "brave is
the exhibition of flowing locks; they flow over the ears and over the
coat-collars; you can smell the bear's grease across the street; and
if these amaranthine locks were to be raised you would see the shiny
coating of bear's grease upon the velvet collar below."
Audubon had not been in England three weeks before he resumed his
drawing and painting habits, at first in order to repay his friends
for their kindness, and later as a means of support; at times he would
devote every spare moment to this work, and he was then able to paint
fourteen hours at a stretch without fatigue. On October 2 he recorded
that he had made in less than twenty minutes a diminutive sketch of the
Turkey Cock from his large twenty-three hour picture. This was for Mrs.
William Rathbone, Senior, who later presented it to him in the form of a
handsome gold-mounted seal, inscribed with his favorite motto, "America,
my country."[326] The facility which Audubon displayed in producing his
pictures of animal life—American wild turkeys, trapped otters, fighting
cats, English game pieces, and the like, in a style both novel and
individual, added much to his immediate popularity in England, as it
later did to his purse. His painting devices are thus referred to in a
journal entry for January, 1827:
No one, I think, paints in my method; I, who have never
studied but by piece-meal, form my pictures according to my
ways of study. For instance, I am now working on a Fox; I take
one neatly killed, put him up with wires and when satisfied
with the truth of the position, I take my palette and work as
rapidly as possible; the same with my birds; if practicable I
finish the bird at one sitting,—often, it is true, of fourteen
hours,—so that I think they are correct, both in detail and
composition.
When he was painting pheasants and needed a white one as "a keystone
of light" to his picture, a nobleman sent word that he would be
given "leave to see the pictures" in his hall, but this Audubon
characteristically refused, being determined to pay no such visits
without invitation.
On the 10th of September, 1826, Audubon left Liverpool, in a hopeful
mood, for Manchester, with the intention of visiting the chief cities
of England and Scotland. He was fortified with a bundle of letters
to a long list of distinguished people, including Baron von Humboldt,
General Lafayette, Sir Walter Scott, Sir Humphry Davy and Sir Thomas
Lawrence. His first step proved a disappointment, and when he finally
left the City of Spindles six weeks later, he found himself poorer
than when he had entered it. At Manchester, however, he added to his
list of interested friends and possible patrons, and acting upon their
suggestion, opened a subscription book for the publication of his long
meditated work, to be called _The Birds of America_. The Rathbones, as
well as other friends whose advice he esteemed, tried to dissuade him
from the plan of publishing his drawings in their full size, which was
that of life, on account of the great expense involved and the enormous
bulk such a work would assume; but he could not bring himself to give
up the idea, in which he received the support of the London bookseller,
Mr. Bohn, who, after seeing Audubon's drawings reversed his opinion,
saying that they must be brought out in their full size, and that they
would certainly pay.
After coming to England Audubon often thought of the shifting scenes and
strange contrasts his life had brought. One day he felt the pinch of
poverty, but on the next fared sumptuously at the tables of the rich;
now a rambler in the wilds of America, glad to accept the hospitality
of the humblest prairie squatter, now the guest of some metropolitan
aristocrat. "The squatter," he said, when writing in England, "is rough,
true, and hospitable; my friends here polished, true, and generous. Both
give freely, and he who during the tough storms of life can be in such
spots may well say that he has tasted happiness."
While at Manchester Audubon was driven to the town of Bakewell, "the
spot," he wrote in deference to his wife, "which has been honored
with thy ancestor's name." Shortly after, on October 23, he started by
stage for Edinburgh, and the distance of 212 miles was covered in three
days; the fare was £5 5s. 5d., which he regarded as exorbitant, but he
complained not so much of the charge as of the beggarly manner of the
drivers, who never hesitated to open the door of their coach and ask
for a shilling at the slightest provocation.
At Edinburgh Audubon was welcomed so warmly that he began to feel that
ultimate success was at last within his reach. Professor Robert Jameson
of the University did much to make his work known, and invited him to
coöperate in an enterprise upon which he was then engaged;[327] this
was pronounced by Dr. Knox of the Medical School to be a "job book," but
whatever its merits may have been, Audubon decided after due reflection
to stand on his own feet.
Not long after reaching the Scottish capital, Audubon made the
acquaintance of Mr. W. Home Lizars, styled "a Mr. Lizard" by a snapshot
biographer of a later day, a well known, expert engraver and painter,
who engaged in various publishing enterprises. When Audubon had held
up a few of his drawings for his inspection, Lizars rose, exclaiming:
"My God! I never saw anything like this before." The picture of the
Mockingbirds attacked by a rattlesnake particularly struck his fancy,
but when he came to the drawing of the Great-footed Hawks, "with
bloody rags at their beaks' ends, and cruel delight in their daring
eyes," Lizars declared that he would both engrave and publish it. "Mr.
Audubon," said he, "the people here don't know who you are at all, but
depend upon it, they _shall_ know." Lizars eventually agreed to engrave
and bring out the first specimen number of _The Birds of America_, and
about the 10th of November made a beginning with the first plate. On
November 28, 1826, he handed Audubon a first proof of the Wild Turkey
Cock, a subject chosen to justify the great size of the work, which was
to be in double elephant folio, and which in point of size is perhaps
to this day the largest extended publication in existence.[328] This and
the second plate, which represented the Yellow-billed Cuckoo[329] in the
act of seizing a tiger swallowtail butterfly on a branch of the paw-paw
tree, were finished by December 10; the first number of five plates was
ready some weeks later. Lizars engraved at Edinburgh the first ten of
Audubon's plates, but most of these were subsequently retouched, colored
and reissued by his successor in London, as will presently appear.
[Illustration:
PLATE I
_Wild Turkey_ MELEAGRIS GALLOPAVO. Linn. _Male._
_American Cane. Miegia macrosperma._
Drawn from nature by J. J. Audubon F.R.S.F.L.S.
Engraved by W. H. Lizars Edinr.
Retouched by R. Havell Junr.]
When Audubon's pictures were exhibited at the Royal Institution of
Edinburgh, their success was immediate, and like the appearance of a new
Waverley novel, they became the talk of the town; the American woodsman
had provided a new thrill for the leaders of fashion, as well as for the
literati and the scientific men. The "noblest Roman of them all," Sir
Walter Scott, refused to attend, but after having met the naturalist he
wrote this in his journal: "I wish I had gone to see his drawings; but
I had heard so much about them that I resolved not to see them—'a crazy
way of mine, your honor.'"
Philarète-Chasles, a well known French critic of the period, has left
the following record[330] of the effect which this exhibition made on
his impressionable mind:
We have admired in the rooms of the Royal Society of Edinburgh
the public exhibition of [Audubon's] original watercolor
drawings. A magic power transported us into the forests which
for so many years this man of genius has trod. Learned and
ignorant alike were astonished at the spectacle, which we will
not attempt to reproduce.
Imagine a landscape wholly American, trees, flowers, grass,
even the tints of the sky and the waters, quickened with
a life that is real, peculiar, trans-Atlantic. On twigs,
branches, bits of shore, copied by the brush with the
strictest fidelity, sport the feathered races of the New
World, in the size of life, each in its particular attitude,
its individuality and peculiarities. Their plumages sparkle
with nature's own tints; you see them in motion or at rest,
in their plays and their combats, in their anger fits and
their caresses, singing, running, asleep, just awakened,
beating the air, skimming the waves, or rending one another
in their battles. It is a real and palpable vision of the
New World, with its atmosphere, its imposing vegetation, and
its tribes which know not the yoke of man. The sun shines
athwart the clearing in the woods; the swan floats suspended
between a cloudless sky and a glittering wave; strange and
majestic figures keep pace with the sun, which gleams from the
mica sown broadcast on the shores of the Atlantic; and this
realization of an entire hemisphere, this picture of a nature
so lusty and strong, is due to the brush of a single man; such
an unheard of triumph of patience and genius!—the resultant
rather of a thousand triumphs won in the face of innumerable
obstacles!"
Another French writer[331] remarked that Audubon produced the same
sensation among the savants of England that Franklin had made at the
close of the eighteenth century among the politicians of the Old World;
his works, he added, should be translated into his native tongue, and
produced in a form which would enable them to reach the library of every
naturalist in France.
One after another the scientific, literary, and arts societies of
the modern Athens elected Audubon to honorary membership; Combe, the
phrenologist and author of _The Constitution of Man_, examined the
naturalist's head and modeled it in plaster, for of course it proved
to be a perfect exemplification of his system; Syme, the artist, did
his portrait for Lizars to engrave. Meanwhile the press was giving
such flattering accounts of the man and his work that Audubon confessed
that he was quite ashamed to walk the street. At the annual banquet of
the Royal Institution, held at the Waterloo Hotel and presided over by
Lord Elgin, Audubon was toasted, and it required all his resolution to
rise and, for the first time in his life, address a large assembly;
this, however, he managed to do in the following words: "Gentlemen;
my command of words in which to reply to your kindness is almost as
limited as that of the birds hanging on the walls of your Institution.
I am truly obliged for your favors. Permit me to say; may God bless you
all, and may this society prosper." On the 10th of December he wrote:
"My situation in Edinburgh borders on the miraculous," and he felt
that his reception in that city was a good augury for the future. But
the life that he was compelled to lead was extremely fatiguing, and
he often longed to return to his family and to his favorite magnolia
woods in Louisiana. "I go to dine," he wrote, "at six, seven, or even
eight o'clock in the evening, and it is often one or two when the
party breaks up; then painting all day, with my correspondence, which
increases daily, makes my head feel like an immense hornet's nest,
and my body wearied beyond all calculation; yet it has to be done;
those who have my best interests at heart tell me I must _not refuse_
a single invitation." But notwithstanding the tax which society always
levies upon the lion's strength, he wrote almost daily in his journal
or diary,[332] and its pages, from which we have been quoting, became
a mirror of all that he saw, heard, or did. Audubon was generous with
his time, as with everything else, and would never hesitate to lay
aside his own work for the sake of a friend who was eager to acquire
his method of drawing. But when his entertainment commenced with an
invitation to breakfast, he began to be alarmed at the large share of
his working hours which had to be surrendered to his friends. "I seem,
in a measure," he said, "to have gone back to my early days of society
and fine dressing, silk stockings and pumps, and all the finery with
which I made a popinjay of myself in my youth.... It is Mr. Audubon
here, and Mr. Audubon there, and I can only hope they will not make a
conceited fool of Mr. Audubon at last."
In response to urgent appeals he began at this time to contribute to the
scientific journals of the Scottish capital, a step which only served
to remind him that the rose was more prolific in thorns than flowers.
Dr. Brewster, however, in his _Journal of Science_, and John Wilson
in _Blackwoods_, sang pæans in his praise, and there is no doubt that
"Christopher North," so like and yet so unlike the American woodsman,
did much to smooth his path in his own country as well as in Europe.
Though keenly feeling the need of literary advice in those early
contributions, Audubon was quite shocked at the alterations which Dr.
Brewster had made in one of these articles, for though the editor had
"greatly improved the style," he had quite "destroyed the matter."
On December 21, 1826, Audubon wrote to Thomas Sully that he would send
him a copy of the first number of his _Birds_, with the request that he
forward it in his name "to that Institution which thought me unworthy
to be a member.... There is no malice in my heart," he continued, "and I
wish no return or acknowledgment from them. I am now _determined_ never
to be a member of that Philadelphia Society." Let it be noted, however,
that Audubon was elected to membership in the American Philosophical
Society, when their recognition could no longer be withheld and when
mutual animosities had died down. Three days later he recorded that all
of his drawings had been taken from the walls of the Royal Institution,
where they had been on exhibition a month, and that he was intending to
present to the Society his large canvas of the Wild Turkeys, for which
Galley, the picture dealer, had offered him a hundred guineas on the
previous day.[333]
Among Audubon's early patrons were Lord and Lady Morton, and more than
once he was invited to visit them in their beautiful country seat
of "Dalmahoy," where a large, square, half-Gothic building, crowned
with turrets and adorned with all the signs of heraldry, overlooked a
beautiful landscape to Edinburgh, marked by its famous castle, seen in
miniature on the horizon, eight miles away. Being somewhat apprehensive
of meeting the former Chamberlain to the late Queen Charlotte, Audubon
had imagined the Earl to be "a man of great physical strength and size";
instead, however, he saw
a small, slender man, tottering on his feet, weaker than a
newly hatched partridge; he welcomed me with tears in his
eyes, held one of my hands, and attempted speaking, which was
difficult to him, the Countess meanwhile rubbing his other
hand. I saw at a glance the situation, and begged he would be
seated ... and I took a seat on a sofa that I thought would
swallow me up, so much down swelled around me. It was a vast
room, at least sixty feet long, and wide in proportion, let
me say thirty feet, all hung with immense paintings on a rich
purple ground; all was purple about me. The large tables
were covered with books, instruments, drawing apparatus, a
telescope, with hundreds of ornaments.
After luncheon Audubon's "Book of Nature" was produced, and his drawings
spread out and admired. Next day the Countess, who was "a woman of
superior intellect and conversation," was given "a most unnecessary
lesson" in drawing, for, said the naturalist, "she drew much better than
I did; but I taught her to rub with cork, and prepare for water-color."
Before he left the Countess wrote her name in his subscription book,
and arranged that he should return and resume his instruction.
One of Audubon's early friends at Edinburgh was Captain Basil Hall,[334]
traveler and writer, who was then about to start on a journey through
the United States; he told the naturalist that he was a midshipman
on board the _Leander_ "when Pierce was killed off New York," at the
time of Audubon's return with Rozier to America in 1806, when Captain
Sammis, upon seeing the British frigate, "wore around Long Island Sound,
and reached New York by Hell Gate." It was at Captain Hall's home that
Audubon met Francis Jeffrey. The indomitable critic and reviewer was
described as "a small (not to say tiny) man," who entered the room
"with a woman under one arm, and a hat under the other." "His looks were
shrewd," said the naturalist, his eyes "almost cunning" and though he
talked much, he appeared unsympathetic. Their meeting was productive of
no friendly feelings on either side.
Three months after reaching Edinburgh, the long awaited opportunity
of meeting the greatest literary figure of the day came to Audubon
unexpectedly, for he did not wish to be introduced in a crowd. Under
date of January 22, 1827, he wrote that Captain Hall came to his rooms
and said: "Put on your coat, and come with me to Sir Walter Scott: he
wishes to see you now." "In a moment," said Audubon, "I was ready....
My heart trembled; I longed for the meeting, yet wished it over." When
they were ushered into Sir Walter's study, the great Scot came forward,
and warmly pressing the hand of his visitor, said he was glad to have
the honor of meeting him. Audubon's record of the meeting continues:
His long, loose, silvery locks struck me; he looked like
Franklin at his best. He also reminded me of Benjamin West;
he had the great benevolence of William Roscoe about him, and
a kindness most prepossessing. I could not forbear looking
at him; my eyes feasted on his countenance. I watched his
movements as I would those of a celestial being; his long,
heavy, white eyebrows struck me forcibly. His little room
was tidy, though it partook a good deal of the character of
a laboratory. He was wrapped in a quilted morning-gown of
light purple silk; he had been at work writing on the "Life
of Napoleon." He writes close lines, rather curved as they go
from left to right, and puts an immense deal on very little
paper.... I talked little, but, believe me, I listened and
observed.
Two days later Audubon paid Scott a second visit, this time with his
portfolio, but little was recorded of this interview other than that
it was more agreeable than the first, and that he greatly admired the
accomplished Miss Scott, to whom he later sent as a gift the first
number of his plates. Audubon's drawings were exhibited at a meeting of
the Royal Society over which Sir Walter presided, and Scott was also
in attendance at the Royal Institution when Audubon's large painting
of the Black Cocks was shown. "We talked much" on this occasion, said
the naturalist, "and I would have gladly joined him in a glass of wine,
but my foolish habits prevented me." This restriction on wine was soon
removed, as was that on whisky, whether of the Scotch or Kentucky brand,
and during his later life in America Audubon was never a teetotaler
by any means. While at the Exhibition Sir Walter pointed to Landseer's
picture of the dying stag, saying, "many such scenes, Mr. Audubon, have
I witnessed in my younger days." Audubon was doubtless too polite to
express an opinion of that popular artist, though of that very picture
he had written in his journal three days before that there was no nature
in it, and that he considered it a farce; "the stag," he said, "had
his tongue out, and his mouth shut! The principal dog, a greyhound,
held the deer by one ear, just as if a loving friend; the young hunter
had laced the deer by one horn very prettily, and in the attitude of a
ballet-dancer was about to cast the noose over the head of the animal."
Scott and Audubon were kindred spirits in their love of sport, of wild
and untameable nature, as well as of man in his Homeric relation to
it. Shortly after their first interview the great Scotsman wrote this
handsome tribute in his journal:
January 22 [1827].—A visit from Basil Hall with Mr. Audubon,
the ornithologist, who has followed that pursuit by many a
long wandering in the American forests. He is an American by
naturalization, a Frenchman by birth; but less of a Frenchman
than I have ever seen—no dash, or glimmer, or shine about
him, but great simplicity of manners and behaviour; slight
in person, and plainly dressed; wears long hair, which
time has not yet tinged; his countenance acute, handsome
and interesting, but still simplicity is the predominant
characteristic.
Of the later visit of which we just spoke we find this account:
January 24.—Visit from Mr. Audubon, who brings some of his
birds. The drawings are of the first order—the attitudes of
the birds of the most animated character, and the situations
appropriate; one of a snake attacking a bird's nest, while
the birds (the parents) peck at the reptile's eyes—they
usually, in the long-run, destroy him, says the naturalist.
The feathers of these gay little sylphs, most of them from
the Southern States, are most brilliant, and are represented
with what, were it [not] connected with so much spirit in
the attitude, I would call a laborious degree of execution.
This extreme correctness is of the utmost consequence to
the naturalist, [but] as I think (having no knowledge of
_vertu_), rather gives a stiffness to the drawings. This
sojourner in the desert has been in the woods for months
together. He preferred associating with the Indians to the
company of the Back Settlers; very justly, I daresay, for
a civilized man of the lower order—that is, the dregs of
civilization—when thrust back on the savage state becomes
worse than a savage....
The Indians, he says, are dying fast; they seem to pine
and die whenever the white population approaches them. The
Shawanese, who amounted, Mr. Audubon says, to some thousands
within his memory, are almost extinct, and so are various
other tribes. Mr. Audubon could never hear any tradition about
the mammoth, though he made anxious inquiries. He gives no
countenance to the idea that the red Indians were ever a more
civilized people than at this day, or that a more civilized
people had preceded them in North America. He refers the
bricks, etc., occasionally found, and appealed to in support
of this opinion, to the earlier settlers,—or, where kettles
and other utensils may have been found, to the early trade
between the Indians and the Spaniards.
Audubon was anxious to receive a written recommendation from the great
"Wizard of the North" touching the merits of his work, the publication
of which had just begun, but Sir Walter Scott sensibly demurred, on the
ground that his knowledge of natural history was insufficient to qualify
him to pass expert judgment. "But," he added, "I can easily and truly
say, that what I have had the pleasure of seeing, touching your talents
and manners, corresponds with all I have heard in your favor; and I am
a sincere believer in the extent of your scientific attainments."
While Audubon was playing the _rôle_ of society's pet lion at Edinburgh
in the winter of 1827, he was painting to meet the expense of engraving
his first plates, and writing at odd times of the day or night. On
February 20 he recorded that his paper on the "Habits of the Wild Pigeon
of America" was begun on the previous Wednesday, and finished at half
past three in the morning; so completely, said he, was he transported
to the woods of America and to the pigeons, that his ears "were as if
really filled with the noise of their wings"; yet he added that were it
not for the facts it contained, he would not give a cent for it, "nor
anybody else, I dare say." Four days later, at the Wernerian Society,
he read his paper on the rattlesnake, but the torrent of abuse which
soon rewarded his efforts in this direction finally led him to reserve
all literary efforts for a future and more propitious time.[335]
A large painting begun in January of this year, called "Pheasants
attacked by a Fox," was probably a variant of the "Pheasants attacked
by a Dog" (illustrated at page 394), the original of which is now in
the American Museum of Natural History, New York City. This canvas,
which was exhibited by the Scottish Society of Artists in February,
1827, measured nine by six feet, and was the largest piece he had ever
attempted. "Sometimes I like the picture," he said, and "then a heat
rises in my face and I think it a miserable daub." "As to the birds,"
he added, "so far as _they_ are concerned I am quite satisfied, but the
ground, the foliage, the sky, the distance, are dreadful."[336]
In the spring of 1827 Audubon enjoyed the novel sensation of going to
church in a sedan chair, and of hearing Sidney Smith preach. "He pleased
me at times," he said, "by painting my foibles with care, and again I
felt the color come to my cheeks as he portrayed my sins." Later there
was an opportunity to meet the famous preacher with his fair daughter,
and to show them his drawings of American birds.
The following letter[337] was sent at this time to his wife in America:
_Audubon to his Wife_
EDINBURGH _March 12th, 1827_.
MY DEAREST FRIEND
I am now proud that I can announce thee the result of the last
meeting of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. I was unanimously
elected a Foreign Member of that Institution on the 5t.h.
Instant and am at last an F. R. S..—Wilt thou not think it
wonderful; to me it is like a dream, and quite as much so when
I see the particular attentions paid me by all ranks of the
best Society. On the 6t.h. I received the official Letter
from the Secretary with the seal of the Society and the arms
of Scotland—this along with my other diplomas and Letters, I
assure thee enable me to be respected and well received in any
portion of the Civilized World. Sir Walter Scott has also been
so kind as to give me a Letter that I may exhibit wherever
I may go==I have Two Letters from him very kind==all this I
think will afford thee great Pleasure.
I am now preparing to leave Edinburgh and will do so in a few
days, I am _now_ anxious to visit London as soon as I possibly
can, and yet want to spend a few days at New Castle, York,
Liverpool, Dublin, then back again to England, go by Cambridge
and Oxford.—If I meet the success that I expect in that Tour
it is very probable that soon after my reaching London, I will
write for thee to Come, and when I do so, my Lucy may come
without the _least Hesitation_ for I will then be ready to
receive her!
Since my last of the 22d of February, I have received thine
of the 31t of December, 3d of January and 8th of Do.
this last mostly John's, I am particularly glad that thou
hast left the Beech Woods, yet thou might as well have given
me at once _thy good reasons for doing so_. I hope that at
this Instant that I am writing, thou art snug and comfortably
settled afresh.
The Trees and Segments have not yet arrived, but I hope to
hear soon that they have—I have not a word about the Seeds
reaching yet. do my Love always say by what vessel any thing
comes, as John as concluded to take Lessons of Music I have no
wish to sell my Gun but wish to give it him as his ow[n] in
Fee Simple, _as soon as he deserves it from thy own Hands_.
May God bless him!—if all continues well with me Victor and
him may rise to eminence and therefore try _Johny's Spunk_. do
beg or make him draw all kinds of Limbs of Trees or Flowers
for me and whenever he kills a bird of any kind tell him to
measure the Guts _particularly_ and make a regular list of
the names of the Birds, length and thickness of those Guts
and their contents==[338]
I wrote a long letter to each Victor and N. Berthoud on
the 27 February, but not a word from either of them as yet
reached me. I was quite shocked to see thy last letter of the
8th of January without the print of thy new Seals, I am
quite frightened at thy watch not having reachd thee, yet
I hope every new Letter will bring me better tidings. I now
collecting Letters from all my Friends here and will have God
knows enough of them. I only hope I may soon be in a _regular
way_ of making a _comfortable living for ourselves all_:
All the papers and books I send thee mention my name. My work
is lookd upon as unrivalled in any Country, I will soon
know how it will pay.—I can only add that I will write to
thee from all the places I visit==Let Victor have a copy of
this==Collect all kinds of Curiosities whatever==try to send
or bring with thee but send first if Possible Live Birds of
hardy kinds such as _Blue Jays_ by THEMSELVES. Red Birds Do.
red wingd Starling Do, Partridges &c &c.—present my humble
respects to Mr & Mrs Johnsons and remembrances to good
Friend bourgeat—try to send me an account of the growing of
Cotton from A to Z, written by an able Planter—I wish thee to
make regular memorandums thyself respecting all about Habits
& Localities &c &c.==thou wilst scarce believe that this
day there [are] in many places 16 feet of snow. the weather
has been tremendous—yet with all this no Invitation is ever
laid aside and the other _evening_ I went to _Diner_ in a
Hackny Coach drawn by 4 Horses, and to church on Sunday last
in a Sedan chair to hear the famous Sidney Smith, curious
diferences of manners here I assure thee.
I have seen and know personally all the great men of Scotland
and many of England.
What a curious interesting book a Biographer—well acquainted
with my Life could write, it is still more wonderfull and
extraordinary than that of my Father!
Fear not my connecting myself in any way with Charles M. he
is a mere worm on the hearth, and since he has abandoned his
_Grand Flora_ is out of my books—it has perhaps been an error
in our Lives that thou didst not come with me. So much indeed
do I now think so that I have advised Capn Hall to take his
Lady and child with him. be sure to pave the way for them to
Judge Mathews and N. Berthoud to whom I have given him letters
to.—I send thee his Travels, read his interview with Napoleon;
I write my Journal every day, it seems that that portion of
it forwardd thee long ago as never reachd thee as thou dost
not mention it. I am sorry for all these little misfortunes
and can hardly a/c for them. I have not heard from H. Clay but
will refresh his memory, I hope at the same time to receive a
Letter from the President==I hope this day the last beautiful
broach I sent thee as a new Years gift is shining on thy
bosom, as I have witnessed the brightness of thy own sweet
Eyes, oh my Lucy what would I give now in my possession for
a kiss on thy Lips and——God for ever bless thee thine Husband
and Friend for ever—
JOHN J. AUDUBON
F.R.S.E. Fellow Royal Society Edinburgh—
F.A.S.— Fellow Royal Society antiquarians—
M.W.S.N.H.—Member Wernerian Society of Natural History
M.S.A.— Member Society of Arts of Scotland—
M.P.L.S.— Member Philosophical & Literary Society Liverpool
M.L.N.Y.— Member Lyceum of New York.
MY DEAR JOHN—
I am very thankfull to you for your Letters continue to write
from time to time, draw, and study music closely, there is
time for all things—I give you my Gun with all my Heart best
wishes, but earn it at your Dear Mamma's will—God bless You—
Your Father and Friend—
JOHN J. AUDUBON
At Edinburgh Audubon met a young landscape painter, Joseph B. Kidd, and
the two worked together for some time, Kidd receiving instruction in
animal painting and Audubon hints on the treatment of his landscapes,
which had always been a source of trouble to him. Kidd was Audubon's
Edinburgh agent for a time, and later entered upon the ambitious project
of reproducing all of his birds in oils, as will be noticed later.[339]
On March 17, 1827, when the second number of his _Birds_ was in
preparation, Audubon boldly issued his "Prospectus," contrary to the
advice of some of his friends, who could see only egregious folly
in such an undertaking and regarded it as foredoomed to failure. As
everybody knows, it is easier to say things than to do them, but all
these friendly critics sang a different tune later on, when they had
seen more of the indomitable will and self-reliance of the man, who
was to carry steadily forward to a successful issue a work which was
in press nearly twelve years and which cost over $100,000 to produce.
In Audubon's original prospectus of _The Birds of America_ the
specifications as to the form, size, and cost of the work, which had
been determined for some months, underwent little change in subsequent
editions of this printed statement.[340]
Audubon left Edinburgh for London on April 5, 1827, with locks shorn
but energy unabated. He followed a roundabout course, visiting Belford,
"Mitford Castle," Newcastle-upon-Tyne, York, Leeds, Liverpool, and
Shrewsbury, at every point extending his acquaintance, showing his
drawings to many, and adding appreciably to his growing list of
subscribers. Several days were spent in hunting and drawing birds with
the Selbys, at their beautiful country place called "Twizel House,"
at Belford, in Northumberland, where he was soon made to feel as much
at home as with his older Liverpool friends, the Rathbones, at "Green
Bank."
P. J. Selby, after whom Audubon named a Flycatcher which appeared in
his second number, was an amateur artist and ornithologist, and at that
time was engaged upon an extensive publication to which Audubon was
invited to contribute, a single volume of plates and text having then
been published.[341]
At Newcastle, where Audubon spent a week, he saw much of its grand old
man, Thomas Bewick, "the first wood cutter in the world," and conceived
a deep regard for him, which he afterwards expressed in one of his
"Episodes." As they parted, this great son of nature held him closely by
the hand, and for the third time repeated, "God preserve you!" "I looked
at him in such a manner," said Audubon, "that I am sure he understood
I could not speak."
As he proceeded southward, his subscription list augmented apace,
Manchester alone giving him eighteen new names, and he began to feel
more sanguine of success, if, he added, "I continue to be honest,
industrious, and consistent."
CHAPTER XXIII
AUDUBON IN LONDON
Impressions of the metropolis—A trunk full of
letters—Friendship of Children—Sir Thomas Lawrence—Lizars
stops work—A family of artists—Robert Havell, Junior—_The
Birds of America_ fly to London—The Zoölogical Gallery—Crisis
in the naturalist's affairs—Royal patronage—Interview with
Gallatin—Interesting the Queen—Desertion of patrons—Painting
to independence—Personal habits and tastes—Enters the
Linnæan Society—The White-headed Eagle—Visit to the great
universities—Declines to write for magazines—Audubon-Swainson
correspondence—"Highfield Hall" near Tyttenhanger—In Paris
with Swainson—Glimpses of Cuvier—His report on _The Birds of
America_—Patronage of the French Government and the Duke of
Orleans—Bonaparte the naturalist.
Audubon reached London on May 21, 1827, and put up at the "Bull and
Mouth" tavern, but soon moved into more permanent lodgings at number
55 Great Russell Street, near the British Museum. Though for a long
time eager to see the capital, no sooner had he reached it than he was
anxious to be away and more homesick than ever for his family and his
beloved America. London then seemed to him "like the mouth of an immense
monster, guarded by millions of sharp-edged teeth," from which he could
escape only by miracle.
He had brought with him a formidable array of letters addressed to the
_élite_ of the capital,[342] and he bore besides nearly a trunkful
for the Continent, as well as general letters from Henry Clay,
Andrew Jackson and others in America for our consular and diplomatic
representatives in Europe. His epistolary basis for the acquisition
of useful acquaintances could hardly have been better, and further
testimonials were gathered at every stage of his progress to the city
of his hopes, but Audubon's best letter of credit, which could be
read by all the world, was an open, winning countenance. After he had
wandered over London for the greater part of three days without finding
a single individual at home, he was tempted to consign his valuable
documents to the post, an error which he did not repeat, as it deprived
him of the acquaintance of fully one-half of the people to whom they
were addressed. One of these London letters which follows, written by
Captain Basil Hall to John Murray, the noted publisher and founder of
the _Quarterly Review_, is particularly interesting in showing that
Audubon was far from pleased with the progress of his work in Edinburgh,
and that he was then contemplating a change which was later effected.
_Basil Hall to John Murray_
EDINB _23rd Feby. 1827_
MY DEAR SIR
This will be delivered to you by my friend Mr John Audubon, an
American Gentleman who has been residing here this winter, &
I beg in the most particular manner to introduce him to your
acquaintance and to ask for him the advantage of your good
offices.
Mr Audubon has spent [a] great part of his life in making
a collection of drawings of the Birds of North America, &
in studying their Habits, with the intention of publishing
a Complete Ornithology of America. For such a work his
materials, both in the shape of drawings and of written notes,
are immense and he is now going to London in order to set this
gigantic work in motion.
Mr Audubon, however, is not very well versed in the details
of such matters, & therefore I beg of you to have the
goodness to aid him with your advice on the occasion—to
introduce engravers printers & so forth to him, and generally
speaking to put him in the way of bringing out his work in an
advantageous manner to himself.
I trust all this will give you no more trouble than you will
be willing to take at my earnest solicitation.
I remain Ever, My Dear Sir,
Most Sincerely Yrs
BASIL HALL.
JOHN MURRAY Esqr
Audubon carried also a long letter from "Mr. Hay,"[343] dated at "16
Athol Crescent, Edinburgh, 15 March, 1827," and addressed to the care
of his brother, Robert William Hay, of Downing Street, West, in which
this curious statement occurs: "Mr. A. is son of the late French Admiral
Audubon, but has himself lived from the cradle in the United States,
having been born in one of the French colonies."
The document which was to prove of greatest service to him, however, was
addressed to John George Children,[344] then in charge of the Department
of Zoölogy in the British Museum and secretary of the Royal Society.
Children assumed the management of Audubon's work when he returned to
America in 1829 and again in 1831; to him and Lord Stanley, in 1830,
the naturalist probably owed his nomination to membership in the Royal
Society.
Soon after reaching London Audubon paid his respects to Sir Thomas
Lawrence, for whom he had two letters, and made an appointment for
showing his work to this famous artist. He was also gratified to receive
the subscription of Lord Stanley and of Charles Lucien Bonaparte, who
was then in London.
Audubon had not been in London a month before word was received from
Lizars that all his colorers had struck work and that everything was at
a stand. Accordingly, he began to search London for skilled workmen, and
on June 18 wrote: "I went five times to see Mr. Havell, the colorer, but
he was out of town. I am full of anxiety and greatly depressed. Oh! how
sick I am of London!" Three days later another discouraging letter came
from Lizars, who shortly after threw up his contract and left his patron
in a sad predicament—with an enormously expensive work, still-born, on
his hands, without adequate funds, and, in short, with all his cherished
plans suspended in mid-air. Audubon no doubt realized that if his grand
undertaking were to succeed at all, it must experience a new birth in
London, where an expert engraver of the requisite enterprise and zeal
must be found without delay. He closed his journal on the second day of
July with the remark that he was too dull and mournful to write a line,
and it was not opened again for nearly three months.
[Illustration: TITLE PAGE OF THE ORIGINAL EDITION OF "THE BIRDS OF
AMERICA," VOLUME II, 1831-1834.]
This gap in Audubon's record can now be filled in reference to some
important particulars, for in the interval he made his greatest
discovery in England, in Robert Havell, Junior, then a young and
unknown artist of thirty-four, who through eleven years of the closest
association with his new patron was to become one of the greatest
engravers in aquatint the world has ever seen. Until recently the
intimate story of Audubon's relation to the Havells has been much
obscured.[345] The reference in the journal record of June 19, just
given, was undoubtedly to Robert Havell, Senior, who for many years
was associated with his father, Daniel Havell, the first of five
generations of artists of that name, in the engraving and publishing
business, but who at this time was established independently at 79
Newman Street, London; he also conducted a shop called the "Zoölogical
Gallery," at which were sold engravings, books, artists' materials,
naturalists' supplies, and specimens of natural history of every sort.
His three sons, Robert, George, and Henry Augustus, all became artists,
but the eldest, who bore his father's name, was educated for a learned
profession. Contrary to his father's injunctions and advice, Robert,
who was bent on becoming an artist, abruptly left his home in 1825,
determined to shift for himself. He began with an extensive sketching
tour on the River Wye, in Monmouthshire, and produced numerous paintings
which, as his biographer remarks, display all the charm found in the
work of his distinguished cousin, William Havell. These won immediate
recognition in London, where he received commissions from various
publishers, including the house of Messrs. Colnaghi & Company.
Robert Havell, Senior, then in his fifty-eighth year, though deeply
interested in Audubon's adventurous plans, felt himself too old to
embark on so extended a work, which it was then believed would require
from fourteen to sixteen years for completion; he volunteered, however,
to do his best to find a substitute. With this in view, he applied to
Mr. Colnaghi, the publisher, and was immediately shown the unsigned
proof of a beautiful landscape, exquisitely drawn and engraved by one
of the youthful retainers of his establishment. The elder Havell, after
scrutinizing it carefully, exclaimed, "That's just the man for me!"
"Then," replied the publisher, "send for your own son!" Through this
singular coincidence, father and son became reconciled and a partnership
between them was soon announced.
As a test of young Havell's skill, to follow the story of his
biographer, Audubon gave him his drawing of the Prothonotary Warbler,
which had already been engraved and issued by Lizars as Plate iii
of _The Birds of America_ earlier in that year. Havell finished the
engraving in two weeks, when a proof was struck and the naturalist
summoned. Audubon examined the print with the utmost keenness and
deliberation; then he seized the sheet, and holding it up, danced about
the room, calling out in his French accent: "Ze jig is up, ze jig is
up!" The Havells, who at first thought this might signify disapproval,
were quickly disabused when Audubon approached young Robert and,
throwing his arms about his neck, assured him that his long-sought
engraver had been found at last. Having given this story, I wish it were
possible to confirm it, but a close examination of this plate proves
either that the story is a fiction, or that some other drawing was used
as a test of Havell's skill.[346]
The part which this interesting family played in Audubon's success
will be unfolded later.[347] Suffice it now to say that Messrs. Robert
Havell & Son, in London, undertook afresh the production of _The Birds
of America_ in the summer of 1827. The partnership was divided or
dissolved in 1828, when Robert, junior, who from the first did all of
the engraving, took entire charge of that part of the business, and
moved his engraving establishment around the corner to 77 Oxford Street;
there it remained until broken up in 1838. Robert Havell, Senior,
continued in charge of the printing and coloring until 1830, when he
seems to have permanently retired, two years before his death in 1832,
events which, as will be seen, are indirectly registered in the legends
of some of Audubon's plates.[348]
[Illustration: THE PROTHONOTARY WARBLER PLATES, "THE BIRDS OF
AMERICA," PLATE XI, BEARING THE LEGENDS OF THE ENGRAVERS W. H.
LIZARS (LEFT) AND ROBERT HAVELL, JR. (RIGHT), BUT IDENTICAL
IN EVERY OTHER DETAIL OF ENGRAVING, ANY APPARENT DIFFERENCE
BEING DUE TO THE COLORING, WHICH WAS ADDED BY HAND.]
Under the younger Havell's guiding hand, Audubon found that his
illustrations could be produced in better style, more expeditiously,
and at far less cost than in Edinburgh. When Lizars was later shown the
third number which the Havells had produced, he called his assistants
and observed how completely the London workmen had beaten them; he
even offered to resume work on the engraving and at Havell's price, but
Audubon was averse to further experimenting. "If he can fall," said he,
"twenty-seven pounds in the engraving of each number, and do them in a
superior style to his previous work, how enormous must his profits have
been; a good lesson to me in the time to come, though I must remember
Havell is more reasonable owing to what has passed between us in our
business arrangements, and the fact that he owes so much to me."
This characteristic note was sent from Liverpool, December 6, 1827, to
his agent, Daniel Lizars, father to W. H. Lizars, at Edinburgh:
I will not ask if you have any new name for me, as I _might_
be disappointed were I to expect an affirmative answer.
If you see Sir Wm. Jardine tell him that Charles Bonaparte has
left the U. S. for ever, and has gone to reside in Florence,
Italy.
I have wrote to Mr. Havell to send you a No. 5, which I wish
you to send to Professor Wilson, or indeed a whole set, to
enable him to write the notice he has promised for me the 1st.
of next month.
[Illustration: REVERSE OF PANELS OF ROBERT HAVELL'S ADVERTISING
FOLDER REPRODUCED ON FACING INSERT.]
[Illustration: OUTSIDE ENGRAVED PANELS OF AN ADVERTISING
FOLDER ISSUED BY ROBERT HAVELL, ABOUT 1834; THE PRINTING ON
THE REVERSE IS REPRODUCED ON THE FACING PAGE.
From the only copy known to exist, in possession of Mr.
Ruthven Deane. It is a strip of heavy paper, 18 by 3⅝ inches
in size, printed on both sides, and folded twice, the folded
size being 4½ by 3⅝ inches. One side bears the four panels,
engraved by Robert Havell, reproduced on this and the
following page; and the reverse, the printed matter reproduced
on pages 386 and 387.]
[Illustration: INSIDE ENGRAVED PANELS OF THE ADVERTISING
FOLDER ISSUED BY ROBERT HAVELL, ABOUT 1834.
The lower panel shows the interior of the "Zoölogical
Gallery," 77 Oxford Street. Audubon's plate of the Cock Turkey
is being examined at one of the tables.]
[Illustration:REVERSE OF PANELS OF ROBERT HAVELL'S ADVERTISING
FOLDER REPRODUCED ON FACING INSERT.]
Audubon sent another letter to this agent, from London, January 21,
1828, when he was still waiting for an answer to his last: "When I write
to any one I expect an answer, but when I write to a man I esteem, and
to whom I entrust a portion of my business, I feel miserable until I
hear from him.... I am extremely anxious to close my business for 1827,
and cannot do so without receiving your a/c, and the money due by my
subscribers."
The summer of 1827 was probably Audubon's most critical period in
England. His work was then in the air and ruin of all his hopes seemed
inevitable, but with palette and brush he again extricated himself from
financial difficulties. At this time, he said, "I painted all day, and
sold my work during the dusky hours of the evening as I walked through
the Strand and other streets where the Jews reigned; popping in and out
of Jew-shops or any others, and never refusing the offer made me for
the pictures I carried fresh from the easel." He sold seven copies of
the "Entrapped Otter" in London, Manchester, and Liverpool, and from
seven to ten copies of some of his other favorite subjects; once when he
inadvertently called at a shop where he had just disposed of a picture,
the dealer promptly bought the duplicate and at the same price that he
had paid for the first.
In the autumn of this year, when it was found that his agents were
neglecting their business, Audubon determined to make a sortie to
collect his dues and further augment his subscription list. He left
London on September 16, and visited in succession Manchester, Leeds,
York, Newcastle-on-Tyne, Alnwick Castle and Belford, to see the Selbys,
finally reaching Edinburgh on the 22nd of October.
Audubon had set his mark at obtaining 200 subscribers by May, 1828,
but he fell far short of realizing it. On August 9 he wrote: "This day
seventy sets have been distributed; yet the number of my subscribers
has not increased; on the contrary, I have lost some." At York he found
that a number of his _Birds_, which had been forwarded from Edinburgh
before he had taken his departure, "was miserably poor, scarcely colored
at all"; and a copy of his first number which was later examined at
the Radcliffe Library in Oxford was so unsatisfactory that he rolled it
up and took it away, with the reflection that Lizars, whom he had paid
"so amply and so punctually," could have made him a better return. The
colorists gave no end of trouble, but he never hesitated to reject their
work when it did not meet his requirements, and the defective plates
were invariably sent back to Havell's shop to be washed, hot-pressed,
and done over again. To such watchful care must be ascribed, in large
measure, the high degree of perfection which his big work eventually
attained. When it is remembered that upwards of one hundred thousand
of his large plates had to be colored laboriously by hand, and that at
one time fifty persons were engaged at the Havell establishment, we can
understand the difficulties involved in maintaining a uniform standard
of excellence in a work that was issued piecemeal and spread over a long
period of time.
In August, 1827, Audubon wrote to Mrs. Thomas Sully of Philadelphia
to announce the removal of his business to London. By this change he
expected to save "upwards of an hundred pounds per annum, a large sum,"
as he remarked, "for a man like me." His third number had then been
issued, and he expressed the hope that all would go smoothly after "this
first year of hard trials and times," and that he would be able to send
for his wife and one of his sons in the coming autumn or winter. He was
then painting "a flock of Wild Turkeys for the king, who had honored
him with his particular patronage and protection." When writing to his
young son, John W. Audubon, on the 10th of the same month, he charged
him to devote two hours daily to the preparation of bird skins, and to
send him not only the skins but live birds and mussel shells, for which
he would be duly paid. Said the father:
I would give you 500 dollars per annum, were you able to make
for me such drawings as I will want. I wish you would draw one
bird only, on a twig, and send it [to me] to look at, as soon
as you can after receiving this letter.... I should like to
have a large box filled with branches of the trees, covered
with mosses &c., such as Mama knows I want; now recollect,
_all sorts_ of Birds, males and females, ugly or handsome.
Audubon had come to London with the idea of having his work published
under the patronage of King George IV; in order to gain a personal
interview with the Sovereign he had brought a letter to Robert Peel,
who was then the Home Secretary, but a change in the Cabinet had upset
his plans and the letter was returned. He then applied to the American
Ambassador, Mr. Albert Gallatin, who upon their first meeting addressed
him in French and showed "the ease and charm of manner of a perfect
gentleman"; but when the question of an audience with the King was
broached, Gallatin laughed at the idea as preposterous. "The king," he
declared, "sees nobody; he has the gout, is peevish, and spends his time
playing whist at a shilling a rubber. I had to wait six weeks before I
was presented to him in my position of ambassador, and then I merely
saw him six or seven minutes." When Audubon then suggested that the
Duke of Northumberland might interest himself in his behalf, Gallatin,
who disliked the English heartily, replied: "I have called hundreds of
times on like men in England, and have been assured that his grace, or
lordship, or [her] ladyship was not at home, until I have grown wiser,
and stay at home myself, and merely attend to my political business,
and God knows when I will have done with that."
[Illustration: TITLE PAGE OF AUDUBON'S PROSPECTUS OF "THE BIRDS
OF AMERICA" FOR 1831.]
As the American Ambassador had predicted, King George evinced no ardent
desire to meet the American woodsman, though he consented to take the
work under his patronage and to become a subscriber on the usual terms;
this plan, however, fell through, for the King, who was reported to
have taken his copy, failed to pay for it. With Queen Adelaide, on the
other hand, the naturalist was more successful, and in his "Prospectus"
of 1831 she was announced as his special patron, with her name heading
his list. Negotiations to interest the Queen were going on when the
following note was sent to Audubon by Sir J. W. Waller, who occupied
some position in the king's household and was spoken of as "oculist to
his majesty":
_Sir J. W. Waller to Audubon_
Saturday 9 o clock [1830].
I have scarce an Instant as I am going to Town to breakfast
with the Dk. of Gloucester, but yr. Letter is _urgent_ &
therefore I can only desire Mr. A. to _send_ his Number
_immediately_ to the Stable Yard, directed to her Majesty, &
the first moment I can see _her_, I will speak on the subject,
but at this Moment I will not promise to mention it to the
King for reasons I cannot put on paper.
Yrs. ever,
J. W. WALLER
At Edinburgh Audubon was alarmed to find that subscribers were rapidly
deserting him, six having cancelled their names without the formality of
giving reasons. He hoped to supply their places at Glasgow, then a rich
city of one hundred and fifty thousand people, but after a visit there
of four days in November, 1827, he was obliged to return to Edinburgh
with but one new name on his list.
On October 22 he expressed the resolve for the coming year "to
_positively keep_ a cash account" with himself and others, "a thing"
he had "never yet done." The wisdom of that decision was apparent upon
settling his accounts for 1827 with both Lizars and Havell, as appears
from this note, written in his journal on January 17, 1828: "It is
difficult work for a man like me to see that he is neither cheating
nor cheated. All is paid for 1827, and I am well ahead in funds. Had I
made such regular settlements all my life I should never have been as
poor a man as I have been; but on the other hand I should never have
published the "Birds of America." Again, for February 7 we find this
record: "Havell brought me the sets he owed me for 1827, and I paid
him in full. Either through him or Mr. Lizars I have met with a loss
of nearly _£_100, for I am charged with fifty numbers more than can be
accounted for by my agents or myself. This seems strange always to me,
that people cannot be honest, but I must bring myself to believe many
are not, from my own experiences."
Shortly after reaching London, as we have seen, Audubon had made the
acquaintance of Sir Thomas Lawrence, then at the head of the Royal
Academy and favorite painter of the Court and fashionable society. The
friendship of this influential artist at a critical moment proved most
fortunate, for Sir Thomas called repeatedly at his lodgings, and at each
visit brought patrons who went away with some of his pictures but not
without leaving a handsome toll of sovereigns in his lap; the "Entrapped
Otter" again did duty by bringing him twenty-five pounds, while others
returned from seven to thirty-five pounds. At a later time the artist
visited the "Zoölogical Gallery," as the Havell establishment in Newman
Street was then known, and saw Audubon's large paintings called "The
Eagle and the Lamb," and "English Pheasants Surprised by a Spanish Dog"
or "_Sauve qui peut_." Audubon, who on this occasion missed seeing his
distinguished visitor, had written in his journal three days before
(December 23, 1828) that the paintings were what he called "finished,"
but that, as usual, he could not bear to look at either. Sir Thomas
praised the "Eagle," admired an "Otter," which was later exhibited in
London, but gave no opinion on the "Pheasants." Afterwards, however,
when Audubon proposed to present this canvas to King George, the artist
assured him that this picture was worth 300 guineas and that it was too
good to be given away; if offered to the King, no doubt, said he, "it
would be accepted and placed in his collections, but you would receive
no benefit from the gift." According to a later record, this canvas
was sold to Mr. John Heppenstall of Sheffield; whether it was ever
delivered, or not, I do not know, but either the original or a copy,
here reproduced, now forms the central figure in the large Audubon
collection in the American Museum of Natural History in New York, and
is an excellent illustration of the elaborate and ambitious character
of Audubon's larger compositions. These fortunate windfalls came none
too soon, for to follow the journal:
Mr. Havell had already called to say that on Saturday I must
pay him sixty pounds. I was then not only not worth a penny,
but had actually borrowed five pounds a few days before to
purchase materials for my pictures. But these pictures which
Sir Thomas sold for me enabled me to pay my borrowed money,
and to appear full-handed when Mr. Havell called. Thus I
passed the Rubicon.
[Illustration: "ENGLISH PHEASANTS SURPRISED BY A SPANISH DOG"
AFTER AUDUBON'S ORIGINAL PAINTING, ABOUT SIX BY NINE FEET IN
SIZE, NOW IN POSSESSION OF THE AMERICAN MUSEUM OF NATURAL
HISTORY, NEW YORK. PUBLISHED BY COURTESY OF THE AMERICAN
MUSEUM OF NATURAL HISTORY.]
This was before the reform of the penal laws in England, when it seems
to have been hard for a man to escape hanging, not to speak of being
sent to prison for debt, the chief terror of life in certain circles.
There were 223 capital offenses, and in 1829 in the city of London alone
7,114 persons were sent to the debtors' prison.[349]
Without the sale of his pictures in the summer of 1827, Audubon felt
that he must certainly have become a bankrupt, yet he was periodically
displeased with the results of his efforts in oil colors, and resolved
to "spoil no more canvas" but to draw "in my usual old untaught way,
which is what God meant me to do"; "I can draw," he continues, "but I
shall never paint well." In the fall of 1828, however, he was again
working in oils, and produced four large pieces, one of which was
called "The Eagle and the Lamb," and two others which were doubtless
variations of his "Pheasant" and "Otter" pictures. "It is charity,"
said the artist, "to speak the truth to a man who knows the poverty of
his talents, and wishes to improve; it is villainous to mislead him,
by praising him to his face, and laughing at his work as they go down
the stairs of his house." Sir Thomas Lawrence had praised some of these
pictures and had promised to select one for exhibition at Somerset
House. As regards "The Eagle and the Lamb," which Audubon hoped would
go to Windsor Castle, William Swainson would give no opinion; the same
canvas, or else a replica, was in possession of the Audubon family in
1898.[350]
On December 14, 1827, Audubon wrote that, acting upon the advice of Mr.
Maury, the American consul at London, he had presented a copy of his
_Birds_ to John Quincy Adams, the President of the United States, and
another, through Henry Clay, to the American Congress; in order that
the latter should be as perfect as possible, Havell was asked to do the
coloring himself, but these proposed gifts do not appear to have been
executed.[351]
New Year's, 1828, found the naturalist in Manchester, where but a few
days before he had received the fifth and last number of his plates
for 1827 and expressed himself well pleased with it. While returning
to London by coach, he consented to take a hand at cards to accommodate
his fellow passengers, but declined to play for money; "I never play,"
he confessed, "unless obliged to by circumstances; I feel no pleasure
in the game, and long for other occupation." "I missed my snuff," he
added, and whenever his hands went into his pockets in search of the
box, he "discovered the strength of habit thus acting without thought";
but he remembered a resolution he had formed to give up the habit and
stuck to it for a time at least; doubtless, like his later friend, John
Bachman, he reformed more than once, for in a letter to Victor Audubon,
of November 5, 1846, Bachman added this postscript: "To Audubon: The
snuff—the snuff, it is here! I have just taken a pinch, and the ladies
have blown _you_ up—sky-high, for teaching me such a bad practice; I
say, however, that you beat me all to pieces in that art."
The first winter in London dragged heavily for the naturalist, who
exclaimed in January, 1828: "How long am I to be confined in this
immense jail"; when Daniel Lizars reported from Edinburgh the loss of
four of his subscribers, he writes, "I am dull as a beetle. Why do I
dislike London? Is it because the constant evidence of the contrast
between the rich and the poor is a constant torment to me, or is it
because of its size and crowd? I know not, but I long for sights and
sounds of a different nature," such, we might add, as the flocks of wild
duck which were occasionally seen from Regent's Park as they passed over
the city and made him more homesick than ever. Audubon hated the city
quite as cordially as Charles Lamb ever affected to detest the country,
and when leaving it, afoot or by stage, it seemed as if he could never
be rid of it. "What a place is London," he would say, but naïvely add:
"many persons live there solely because they like it."
On February 4, 1828, Audubon was elected to membership in the Linnæan
Society, and in November he presented it with a copy of his work, which
was then well under way. This was noticed in a letter to Swainson,
written on November 7, when no acknowledgment of the gift had then been
received; and he mentioned also the sale of his picture of "Blue Jays"
for ten guineas. At a meeting of the Linnæan Society not long after
his election, copies of Selby's _Illustrations of British Ornithology_
and of his own work were placed side by side for inspection, and "very
unfair comparisons were drawn between the two"; had Selby, Audubon
reflected, been given "the same opportunities that my curious life has
granted me, his work would have been far superior to mine"; "I supported
him," he added, "to the best of my power."
Revision of his older drawings demanded much of Audubon's attention
during these years. On February 10, 1828, he began the Whiteheaded Eagle
(No. 7, Plate xxxi), the original of which had been procured on the
Mississippi, where the bird was represented as dining on a wild goose;
now, he said, "I shall make it breakfast on a catfish, the drawing of
which is also with me, with the marks of the talons of another eagle,
which I disturbed on the banks of the same river, driving him from his
prey." On the 16th of that month he was engaged with this drawing from
seven in the morning until half after four, stopping only to take the
glass of milk which his landlady would bring to him. This plate was
engraved in the following April, and on May 1, 1828, a first proof was
sent to the Marquis of Landsdowne, president of the Zoölogical Society,
as a mark of appreciation by its author, who had become a member of that
body in the preceding winter.
A striking characteristic of Audubon's work was its diversity, produced
not only by attractive embellishments of many kinds, but by the moving
force and action with which he ever sought to vitalize his subjects.
It is therefore not surprising that he was nettled by an incident like
this:
February 28. To-day I called by appointment on the Earl of
Kinnoul, a small man, with a face like the caricature of an
owl; he said he had sent for me to tell me all my birds _were
alike_, and he considered my work a swindle. He may really
think this; his knowledge is probably small; but it is not the
custom to send for a gentleman to abuse him in one's house. I
heard his words, bowed, and without speaking, left the rudest
man I have met in this land.
Audubon had not yet visited the great university towns of England, the
support of which he knew would be a valuable asset, and on March 3,
1828, he set out by stage for Cambridge. His driver, he remarked, "held
confidances with every grog-shop between London and Cambridge, and
his purple face gave powerful evidences that malt liquor [was] more
enticing to him than water." His reception at Cambridge was hearty; he
was entertained by Professors Sedgwick, Whewell, and Henslow, dined
repeatedly "in Hall" with the dons, and received the subscription
of the librarian of the University. It is interesting to recall that
young Charles Darwin, "the man who walks with Henslow," as some of the
dons called him, was then an undergraduate at King's College, and that
thirty-one years were to pass before modern biology was born in 1859,
the year of the appearance of the epoch-making _Origin of Species_.
By the 15th of March Audubon was again in London, and on the 24th he
started for Oxford. Dr. Williams, as he noted in his journal, subscribed
for his _Birds_ in favor of the Radcliffe Library, as did also Dr. Kidd
for the Anatomical School; but, though hospitably treated by all, not
one of the twenty-four colleges of that great University emulated their
example, and the naturalist went away disappointed.
Upon his return to London in early April, Audubon received a call from
John C. Loudon, editor of the _Magazine of Natural History_, and was
invited to contribute to that journal. "I declined," he said, "for I
will never write anything to call down upon me a second volley of abuse.
I can only write _facts_, and when I write these, the Philadelphians
call me a liar." He was then chafing under the criticism which his
rattlesnake stories had produced.[352] On April 6 the persistent Mr.
Loudon called again and offered Audubon eight guineas for an article,
only to be again refused. Still unwilling to admit defeat, the editor
proposed to engage William Swainson to prepare an extended review of
the naturalist's work, and in this he succeeded so well that Audubon
immediately relented and sent him a paper.[353] Swainson offered to
write the review for a copy of the work at its cost price, and Audubon
replied in the following letter:[354]
_Audubon to William Swainson_
LONDON, _April 9th 1828_.
MY DEAR SIR,
Mr. Loudon called on me yesterday and showed me a letter
from you to him, in which many very flattering expressions
respecting myself and my works you are so kind as to offer to
review the latter so as to have your opinion in writting in
time for the first no. of the magazine that will appear next
month.—you also desire that I should send you a sett of the
works as far as publishing which you wish to keep provided
I will let you have it at the price _it costs me._ I assure
you my Dear Sir, that was I to take you at your word it would
be a sore bargain for you as the a/m would be very nearly
double that for which it is sold to my subscribers.—therefore
you will permit me to alter your offer and to say that if it
suits you to pay 35 shillings per number I will be contented;
I would be still more so was I rich enough to present it to
you.—
It is the only set on hand at present except one which I must
have to exhibit.—
The answer respecting the Shrieke [Shrike] has I hope met with
your wishes.—
Ever since I became acquainted with our mutual friend Dr.
Fraill [Traill] I have had a great desire to see and speak to
you & I regret that I never have had an opportunity. My time
is so completely taken up that it is with difficulty that I
can enjoy a day's rest—Should you come to town pray call on
me when I may have the pleasure of shaking your hand and to
assure you verbally that I am truly and sincerely
yours obe st
JOHN J. AUDUBON
95 Great Russell St.
Bedford Sq.
[Illustration:
LETTER OF WILLIAM SWAINSON TO AUDUBON, MAY, 1828.
From the Deane MSS.]
Thus began an intimate friendship between William Swainson and John
James Audubon which lasted until 1830, and their intercourse did not
wholly cease before 1838. In his use of English at this time Audubon was
not far behind Swainson, whose mother tongue it was. Swainson, according
to Dr. Günther, was "extremely careless in orthography and loose in his
style of writing: he persistently misspelt not only technical terms,
but also the names of foreign authors, and even of some of his familiar
friends and correspondents; he knew no other language but his own,
and the application of Latin and Greek for the purpose of systematic
nomenclature was a constant source of error."
At this time Swainson was living in semi-retirement at a farmstead of
considerable size, called "Highfield Hall,"[355] near Tyttenhanger
Green, a small settlement, off the highroad, two miles southeast of
the historic town of St. Albans, in Hertfordshire; though his letters
were always dated from "The Green" at Tyttenhanger, his associations
were with the more considerable village of London Colney, but a mile
to the south, on the road to Barnet. Audubon had brought a letter
of introduction from Dr. Traill, a valiant champion of Swainson
at Edinburgh, but was unable to go to the country to deliver it.
Swainson, however, attended promptly to the review, and on April 11,
1828, sent it to Mr. Loudon, who published it in the May number of his
_Magazine_.[356]
Swainson's review was extremely laudatory, and Audubon reproduced
extracts from it in later editions of his "Prospectus." To quote a
characteristic paragraph, he said that the naturalist's ornithological
papers printed in one of the Scotch journals, are as valuable to the
scientific world, as they are delightful to the general reader. They
give us a rich foretaste of what we may hope and expect from such a man.
There is a freshness and an originality about these essays, which can
only be compared to the animated biographies of Wilson.... To represent
the passions and the feelings of birds, might, until now, have been
well deemed chimerical. Rarely, indeed, do we see their outward forms
represented with any thing like nature. In my estimation, not more
than three painters ever lived who could draw a bird. Of these the
lamented Barrabaud [Barraband], of whom France may be justly proud, was
the chief. He has long passed away; but his mantle has at length been
recovered in the forests of America.
Audubon spent four days with Swainson and his family at Tyttenhanger,
from May 28 to June 1, 1828, when they talked birds and made drawings;
Audubon also showed Swainson "how to put up birds in _his_ style, which
delighted him." The friendship between these men, though very intimate
while it lasted, received a sudden check two years later, when Audubon
was about to publish the letterpress to his plates, as will be related
farther on.[357]
Though his hands were already more than full at this time, Audubon seems
to have played with the idea of publishing a work on the birds of Great
Britain, but on May 1 he wrote to Swainson that the plan did not meet
with favor, and later he relinquished all claims in such a project to
his assistant, William MacGillivray.[358]
In the spring of 1828 Audubon began to think of returning to the United
States, to renew or revise his drawings and extend his researches.
"I am sure," he said, "that now I could make better compositions, and
select better plants than when I drew mainly for amusement." In order
to raise the necessary funds, he resorted again to picture painting,
his never failing resource, and worked in oil colors daily from morning
light until dusk, unless called to Havell's to decide some question of
necessary detail. The following letters to Swainson shed further light
on this work and on the progress of _The Birds of America_, the eighth
number of which was published early in July:
_Audubon to William Swainson_
LONDON, _July 1st 1828_.
MY DEAR SIR.—
I have been expecting to have the pleasure of seeing you for
upwards of a week, having mentioned in your last note that
you intended spending a couple of days in London before the
end of June.—When are you coming?—the beautifull lamb came
quite safe and is now on the canvas (in efigy) for ages to
come—I bought a superb Golden Eagle from Mr. Cross that also
has helped to fill it —— [_Here apparently some words have
been deleted, and it is impossible to read them._] I long to
shew them to you.—I have finished the picture of the Turkeys,
and painted a white headed eagle—in fact I have worked from
4 every morning untill dark—but the best news I have to tell
is; that I have received 4 letters from my wife, one dated 2nd
of May, all well—but not quite settled about coming before
the end of summer. I have changed quarters and am now at 79
Newman Street Oxford Street, in Mr. Havell's house where I
have taken 3 rooms and feel more comfortable although I have
not the little piece of ground to walk on.—I imagine the
country to be now quite beautifull and had I time to spare
would walk out to see you Mrs S & the dear little folks at
Tittenhanger Green.—I received a visit on Saturday last of
the whole of Lord Milton's family who after complimenting the
author of the "Birds of America" very kindly subscribed for
two copies of the work.—I have mended my pen—I should have
sent the Blackwood magazine to you, but I so much expected
to see you here that it is yet on my table, and will keep it
untill you come.—All my exertions to procure live grouses have
been abortive here—I have written to Scotland to a friend and
perhaps will have some soon.—The 8th number is now printing
and colouring and will be out this month—the 9th is began.—If
you are hungry or thirsty when you come to town please make
for my [_here a word is omitted_], and I will try to manage
matters in this way.—May I ask what you are doing?—I saw Dr
Fraill's [Traill's] son a few days ago—he inquired after your
son and family.—I expect a copy of Loudon's magazine this
evening. I feel anxious to see what sort of a cut the Doves
make, as well as the birds of Washington.—
With sincerest regards & esteem to yourself and Lady—
I am yours most truly
JOHN J. AUDUBON.
79 Newman Street,
Oxford Street.
_Audubon to William Swainson_
LONDON _Thursday July 1828_.
MY DEAR MR SWAINSON,
Although your last note said that you knew not when I should
have the pleasure of seeing you in town, I have hoped every
morning to see you that day.—When will you come?—_There is
a talk_ of my picture of the Eagle and the Lamb going to her
Majesty, Sir Walter Waller has been written to on the subject
and every thing is in train to lead _poor I_ like a lamb to
Windsor Castle!—I am told the picture is a _grand one_ but
_you_, my dear Sir, have not said so! When you come I will
show you 13 grouses pretty fairly grouped on one canvas, with
seven pheasants with a Fox on another, etc. etc. I have worked
hard this month from 4 p.m. untill 7 a.m. [_sic_] every day—I
regretted that your brother did not come to see me—I have a
great desire to see you but I cannot at present leave town.—My
8th No. is just out.—The 9th & 10th are engraving.—I have
sent word to my son to land [?] & bring some skins for you
& perhaps you may have a rare assortment bye and bye.—I hope
your Lady and dear Children are all quite well Pray remember
me kindly to them.——I wish to name a bird after you in the
1st No. of 1829 & wish you to choose a name.
Believe yours ever and truly obliged
J. J. AUDUBON
79 Newman Street,
Oxford Street.
By the 9th of August eight pictures had been begun, but none was
finished, and the number of his subscribers had fallen to seventy.
At about this time Captain Basil Hall[359] returned from his journey
through the United States, and brought direct news from Victor Audubon,
who was then at Louisville, from Dr. Richard Harlan and Thomas Sully,
to all of whom the naturalist's letters had been delivered the previous
year. Towards the end of the month Audubon received the following note
from the secretary of the Zoölogical Society, N. A. Vigors, who was also
anxious to obtain from him an article for his _Journal_:
_N. A. Vigors to Audubon_
BRUTER CT
_Aug. 23, 1828._
MY DEAR SIR:—
I hope you do not forget your promise of giving us a paper for
the Zoölogical Journal. We should be much gratified by having
your name with us: and, if possible, should wish to have
whatever you may favour us with within the next ten days. I
have been but a few hours in town, and shall leave town again
tomorrow for a few days, or I should have called upon you to
speak personally upon the subject. I believe I have already
mentioned, that we are in the habit of remunerating those of
our correspondents who wish for payment for their labours, at
a rate not exceeding £10.10.0 per sheet.
A letter from you in answer will reach me, if sent to Bruter
Ct: before Wednesday on which day a parcel will be forwarded
to me from thence.
Believe me my dear Sir,
Yours faithfully,
N: A: VIGORS.
[Addressed] J. J. AUDUBON Esq.,
69 Great Russell St.;
Bloomsbury.
[Readdressed] Newman Street,
Oxford Street
Audubon refused this request, saying that "no money can pay for abuse,"
and this time he did not retract.
Without immediate prospect of seeing his family, for neither Mrs.
Audubon nor her sons were enthusiastic over the proposal that they
should go to England, the naturalist was momentarily depressed; he
turned to Swainson for advice, at the same time suggesting that they
visit Paris together. Audubon wrote in his journal for August 16, 1828,
that he had invited Swainson to accompany him to France, whither his
friend had expressed a desire to go when the subject had been broached
at Tyttenhanger; on the 25th of that month he added: "I do not expect
much benefit by this trip, but I shall be glad to see what may be done."
The letter just referred to follows:
_Audubon to William Swainson_
LONDON, _Wednesday Augt. 13, 1828_.
MY DEAR MR. SWAINSON,
I reached my lodging in great comfort by the side of your
amiable Docr Davie two hours and a half after we shook
hands—I wish I might say as much of my _Journey through
Life_.—I have had sad news from my dear wife this morning,
she has positively abandoned her coming to England for some
indefinite time, indeed she says that she looks anxiously for
the day when tired myself of this country I will return to
mine and live although a humbler (Public) Life, a much happier
one—her letter has not raised my already despondent spirits in
_somethings_ and at the very instant I am writing to you it
may perhaps be well that no instrument is at hand with which
a woeful sin might be committed—I have laid aside brushes,
thoughts of painting and all except the ties of friendship—I
am miserable just now and you must excuse so unpleasant a
letter—Would you go to _Paris_ with me? I could go with you
any day that you would be please to mention, I will remain
there as long and no longer than may suit your callings—I
will go with you to Rome or anywhere, where something may be
done for either of our advantage and to drive off my very
great uncomfortableness of thoughts—My two sons are also
very much against coming to England, a land they say where
neither freedom or simplicity of habits exist and altogether
uncongenial to their mode of life.—What am I to do? As a man
of _the World_ and a man possessed of strong unprejudiced
understanding I wish that you would advise me.—But now on your
account I will change the subject—I called on Newman two days
ago & to the following enquiries he gave me yesterday the
following answers
What the price of
½ doz best Pure Lake dowards [?] _answer_ 12/—
½ " " Carmin " " 20/—
½ " " UltraMarine " " 84/—
½ " " Vermillion " " 6/—
½ " " Terra di Verona " " 4/—
As I thought the above prices enormous I have declined
advising chalks for you & will await your advent.—
Should you not feel inclined to go to France at present which
by the bye is the very best season on account of seeing the
vintage etc. etc.—please write to me so or come to town which
would be still more agreeable & talk the matter over as I
think I would persuade you to absent yourself for a month
or so—I hope your kind lady continues quite well & your Dear
Little ones—
Believe me yours most sincerely
JOHN J. AUDUBON.
Please write by return of Post—
79 Newman Street
Oxford Street.
On this journey to Paris Audubon was accompanied by Mr. and Mrs.
Swainson and an American artist, named Parker, who had been at work
on a portrait of the naturalist in oils. For Audubon it was mainly
a canvassing tour; Parker hoped to obtain orders for portraits, and
Swainson, new ornithological material at the great museum in the Jardin
des Plantes, for a work upon which he was then engaged.[360]
The party set out on the 1st of September, traveling by way of Dover
and Boulogne, and reached Paris on Thursday, September 4. They alighted
at the Messagerie Royale, Rue des Victoires, and, after looking up
lodgings, went at once to the Jardin des Plantes to pay their respects
to Cuvier. The Museum of Natural History was closed, but they knocked
and asked for the Baron. "He was in," said Audubon, in the journal of
his Paris experience,
but, we were told, too busy to be seen. Being determined to
look at the great man, we waited, knocked again, and with a
certain degree of _firmness_ sent in our names. The messenger
returned, bowed, and led the way up stairs, where in a minute
Monsieur the Baron, like an excellent good man, came to us; he
had heard of my friend Swainson and greeted him as he deserves
to be greeted; he was polite and kind to me, though my name
had never made its way to his ears. I looked at him, and here
follows the result: age about sixty-five; size corpulent,
five feet five, English measure; head large; face wrinkled and
brownish; eyes gray, brilliant and sparkling; nose aquiline,
large and red; mouth large, with good lips; teeth few, blunted
by age, excepting one on the lower jaw, measuring nearly
three-quarters of an inch square.[361]
They were immediately invited to dine on the following Saturday at six
o'clock, and later saw Cuvier at his home, at his Museum, and at the
Academy of Sciences, over which he presided.
Geoffroy Saint-Hilaire pleased Audubon greatly and proved to him by
his conversation that he understood perfectly the difference between
the French and the English. The Duke of Orleans, who then occupied the
Palais Royal, seemed to him the finest physical type of man he had ever
met. "He had my book brought up," said the naturalist, "and helped me
untie the strings and arrange the table, and began by saying that he
felt great pleasure in subscribing to the work of an American, for he
had been most kindly received in the United States and should never
forget it." When the plate of the Baltimore Orioles was held up to
view, the Duke exclaimed: "This surpasses all I have seen, and I am not
astonished now at the eulogiums of M. Redouté." He conversed in both
English and French, had much to say of American cities and rivers, and
added: "You are a great nation, a wonderful nation." The Duke wrote his
name in Audubon's subscription book, promised to try to enlist a number
of the crowned heads of Europe in his behalf, and gave him besides a
number of orders for pictures of animals.
Audubon had already made friends with the veteran painter of flowers,
Pierre Joseph Redouté, and when it was proposed that they should
exchange works, the "Raphael of Flowers" consented, gave Audubon at once
nine numbers of his _Belles Fleurs_, and promised to send "_Les Roses_."
During this visit of eight weeks Parker painted portraits of both
Cuvier and Redouté; Swainson worked steadily at the Museum, where
Isidore Geoffrey Saint-Hilaire gave him the use of his private study;
while Audubon, for the most part, was driving from post to pillar in
his not altogether successful efforts to extend his subscription list.
As already intimated, his greatest success in Paris was in winning the
friendship and endorsement of Cuvier, who reported upon his work at
a meeting of the Royal Academy of Sciences held on September 22.[362]
Audubon has related how on this occasion he had an appointment to meet
the Baron in the library of the Institute at precisely half past one
o'clock; he waited; the hall filled, and the clock ticked on, but the
great savant did not appear. Finally, said Audubon, after an hour had
passed, "all at once I heard his voice, and saw him advancing, very warm
and apparently fatigued. He met me with many apologies, and said, 'Come
with me'; and as we walked along, he explaining all the time why he had
been late, while his hand drove a pencil with great rapidity, and he
told me that he was actually now writing the report on my work!"[363]
Cuvier's published report, which was extremely laudatory, showed little
signs of haste. After speaking of Audubon's talents and accomplishments
he said:
The execution of these plates, so remarkable for their size,
seems to us equally successful in the drawing, the engraving,
and coloring, and though it may be difficult to represent
relief in a colored print with as much effect as in painting
proper, this is no disadvantage in works on natural history;
naturalists prefer the true color of objects to those
accidental shades which result from the diverse inflections of
light; necessary though these be for completing the truth of a
picture, they are foreign as well as prejudicial to scientific
accuracy.[364]
[Illustration: AUDUBON
AFTER A PORTRAIT IN OILS, HITHERTO UNPUBLISHED, PAINTED ABOUT
1826 W. H. HOLMES FOR WALTER HORTON BENTLEY, OF MANCHESTER,
AND IN 1913 IN POSSESSION OF HIS GRANDSON, JOHN CONWAY
BENTLEY, FORMERLY OF GLASGOW. IN THE ORIGINAL AUDUBON IS
REPRESENTED IN A GREEN COAT, A CRIMSON CLOAK WITH DEEP FUR
EDGING THROWN OVER ONE SHOULDER, AND WITH PORTFOLIO IN HAND.
FROM A PHOTOGRAPH IN POSSESSION OF MR. RUTHVEN DEANE.]
By November Audubon was once more in London, busy at painting to fill
his orders and his purse. On the 11th of the month, we find Swainson,
whose own exchequer was empty, writing to Audubon for a loan; this
letter, and one soon to follow, illustrate some of the characteristics
to which we have referred:
_William Swainson to Audubon_
_Tuesday 11 Nov. 1828._
I had written the enclosed, my dear Mr. Audubon, before your
letter of Monday reached me. It has come this instant, Dreams,
you know, must always be interpreted _contrawise_, we might
have lifted up our arms, as you saw in your dream but, if you
had not awoke, it was no doubt to have shaken hands! But that
my regard for you may be evinced, I will bring myself to lay
under an obligation, which I would only ask for one of my own
family. I was that moment thinking to which I should write,
to ask the loan of 80 £ for a few months, and now I will ask
it of _you_. If you was aware of the peculiar feelings which
we Englishmen have on such occasions, perhaps you would smile,
but so it is that we never ask any one, from whom we have the
least idea of a refusal. Now, did I not believe you to be a
sincere friend, do you imagine I should have told you I was
in want of Money much less have asked you to lend me some.
The fact is, I have suffered a severe loss during my being
in Paris, what little I had _on hand_ has been spent there
and in making preparations for the publication of my Zool.
Illustrations. Two or three months however, hard work will
bring me round again & repay you.
Let me see your letter to the President of the Zool. Soc.
before it goes, and you shall see mine.
I shall be most thankful for the Grouse. I send 2 drawings to
Havell to be engraved _spur him on_ for I want to have every
thing ready before the new year.
Yours most sincerely,
W. SWAINSON.
JOHN J. AUDUBON, Esq.
79 Newman St.
In December the Swainsons invited Audubon to dine with them at
Christmas; in his letter Swainson said:
Why are you so sad? I would lay ten shillings that old Havell
has been disappointing you as he has done me. He is in matters
of business a complete _daudle_—an old woman, and I have done
with him. His son I think better of he has a good idea of
punctuality in business.... In one of your walks I hope you
have thought about the _French Wine_ that we talked so much
about and have ascertained the particulars from your friend,
so that we may order a cask. I hope you have not mistaken the
price,—for if not, nothing that can be drank in this country
is one half as cheap.
In the following letter Swainson refers to the second series of his
_Zoölogical Illustrations_,[365] the sale of which was irritating
him, and to N. A. Vigors, with whom he had entered upon a notorious
controversy in 1828:
_William Swainson to Audubon_
_18 January, 1829._
MY DEAR MR. AUDUBON,
I write this in utter uncertainty whether it will find you in
London. My first number has now been out three weeks—it has
been seen and universally admired, and how many copies do you
think the Publisher has sold? now pray guess as the Americans
say. 100—no. twentyfive, no. fifteen, no. ten? yes. positively
ten copies and _no more_, has been sold. I blush almost to
confess this mortification to even, _you_, but so it is. Now,
my dear Sir, what am I to think of the "generally diffused
taste," as the phrase is, for Natural History.
This allthough vexing to _me_, may be a consolation to _you_,
who are able to exhibit on what I call your _Red Book_ the
names of a good portion of 150 subscribers to a 200 guinea
Book. Think yourself my friend exceedingly well off.
The amount of sale must be kept silent, it would be a nice
nut to crack for V [igors]. & his friends.
I shall be able to do without the water birds, if you have
not found any.
I have had a most extraordinary letter from Waterton, which
will highly amuse you. The man is mad—stark, staring mad.
Yours very faith'ly
W. SWAINSON.
Can you tell me any safe expeditions made of sending and
receiving letters and Parcels from Philadelphia.
J. J. AUDUBON Esq.
79 Newman St.
Oxford St.
Early in 1829 Bonaparte wrote from Rome, where he had then settled, and
the following letter shows that he had then heard of Audubon's visit to
France, and was keenly interested in his success: