FOR THE PEOPLE
FOR EDVCATION ,
FORSCIENCE

LIBRARY

OF

THE AMERICAN MUSEUM

OF

NATURAL HISTORY

AUDUBON

HIS JOURNALS

ALDUliOiN

November, 1843

From the ijorliait by John Woodhouse Auilubon

AUDUBON AND HIS
JOURNALS

BV

MARIA R. AUDUBON

WITH ZOOLOGICAL AND OTHER NOTES

BY

ELLIOTT COUES

Volume I.

NEW YORK

CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS

1897

Copyright, 1S97,
By Charles Scribner's Sons.

Snibersttg ^rtss:
John Wilson and Son Cambridge, U.S.A.

3^ti Logins: ilcmorp

OF MY FATHER,

JOHN WOOD HOUSE AUDUBON,

AND OF

HIS LOVE AND ADMIRATION FOR HIS FATHER,

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON,

THIS BOOK WAS WRITTEN.

PREFACE

TT is customary at the close of a Preface to make some
-*- acknowledgment of the services rendered by others
in the preparation of a volume ; but in my case this aid
has been so generous, so abundant, and so helpful, that
I must reverse the order of things and begin by saying
that my heartiest thanks are due to the many who have
assisted me in a work which for many years has been
my dream.

Without the very material aid, both by pen and advice,
of Dr. Elliott Coues, these pages would have lost more than
I care to contemplate. All the zoological notes are his,
and many of the geographical, besides suggestions too
numerous to mention ; moreover, all this assistance was
most liberally given at a time when he personally was
more than busy ; and yet my wishes and convenience have
always been consulted.

Next to the memory of my father, Mr. Ruthven Deane
has been the motive power which has caused this volume
to be written. For many years he has urged me to at-
tempt it, and has supplied me with some valuable mate-
rial, especially regarding Henderson. During the months
that I have been working on much that I have felt incom-
petent to deal with, his encouragement has helped me
over many a difficulty.

viii PREFACE

To my sisters Harriet and Florence, and my cousin M.
Eliza Audubon, I am especially indebted. The first and
last have lent me of their choicest treasures ; letters, jour-
nals, and other manuscripts they have placed uncondition-
ally in my hands, besides supplying many details from
other sources ; and my sister Florence has been my almost
hourly assistant in more ways than I can specify.

The arrangement of the papers and journals was sug-
gested by the late Dr. G. Brown Goode ; and many names
come to mind of friends who have helped me in other
ways. Among them are those of Mr. W. H. Wetherill,
Messrs. Richard R. and William Rathbone, my aunt, Mrs.
James Hall, Dr. Arthur T. Lincoln, Mr. Morris F. Tyler,
Mr. Joseph Coolidge, Rev. A. Gordon Bakewell, and Mr.
George Bird Grinnell.

I wish also to say that without the loving generosity of
my friend the late Miss M. Louise Comstock, I should
never have had the time at my command which I have
needed for this work ; and last, but by no means least, I
thank my mother for her many memories, and for her wise
criticisms.

There came into my hands about twelve years ago some
of these journals, — those of the Missouri and Labrador
journeys; and since then others have been added, all of
which had been virtually lost for years. The story of how I
heard of some, and traced others, is too long to tell here,
so I will only say that these journals have formed my
chief sources of information. So far as has been possible
I have verified and supplemented them by every means.
Researches have been made in San Domingo, New Orleans,
and France ; letters and journals have been consulted which

PREFA CE IX

prove this or that statement ; and from the mass of papers
I have accumulated, I have used perhaps one fifth.

•' The Life of Audubon the Naturahst, edited by Mr.
Robert Buchanan from material supplied by his widow,"
covers, or is supposed to cover, the same ground I have
gone over. That the same journals were used is obvious;
and besides these, others, destroyed by fire in Shelbyville,
Ky., were at my grandmother's command, and more than
all, her own recollections and voluminous diaries. Her
manuscript, which I never saw, was sent to the English
publishers, and was not returned to the author by them or
by Mr. Buchanan. How much of it was valuable, it is
impossible to say; but the fact remains that Mr. Bu-
chanan's book is so mixed up, so interspersed with anec-
dotes and episodes, and so interlarded with derogatory
remarks of his own, as to be practically useless to the
world, and very unpleasant to the Audubon family. More-
over, with few exceptions everything about birds has been
left out. Many errors in dates and names are apparent,
especially the date of the Missouri River journey, which is
ten years later than he states. However, if Mr. Buchanan
had done his work better, there would have been no need
for mine; so I forgive him, even though he dwells at un-
necessary length on Audubon's vanity and selfishness, of
which I find no traces.

In these journals, nine in all, and in the hundred or so
of letters, written under many skies, and in many condi-
tions of life, by a man whose education was wholly French,
one of the journals dating as far back as 1822, and some of
the letters even earlier, — there is not one sentence, one
expression, that is other than that of a refined and cul-

X PREFACE

tured gentleman. More than that, there is not one utter-
ance of " anger, hatred or malice." Mr. George Ord and
Mr. Charles Waterton were both my grandfather's bitter
enemies, yet one he rarely mentions, and of the latter, when
he says, " I had a scrubby letter from Waterton," he has
said his worst.

But the journals will speak for themselves better than I
can, and so I send them forth, believing that to many they
will be of absorbing interest, as they have been to me.

M. R. A.

CONTENTS
Volume I

PAGE

Introduction 3

Audubon - 5

The European Journals. 1826-1829 79

The Labrador Journal. 1S33 343

The Missouri River Journals. 1843 447

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Vol. I.

PAdit

AuDuiiON Frontispiii:*

Kroin tlio portr.iil liy J. W. AikIuIidm. Novcinlicr, iS^^.

Mil. I. CiKovK Mansion on tiik I'i'-kkiomkn Cukkk . . . i6

l''ri>in .1 iilu>liij;i.i|>li fiuin W, II. WctliiTill, Hsn-

1''ati.a.M) I'dki) Man.sion, i.o()kin<; towakd \'ai.i.i:v Kokck 20

From .1 plioL.Ki.ipli lioiii W. 11. Wi-llicrill. Kmi.

Aiiduison's Mii.u at Hkndkuson, Kv \\

Now owiird by Mr. U.iviil t'Luk.

John J. Auduiion 4S

Kroin lli<- Miiiiinttirc by F. CruikMli.iiik, piil>li»lir>l l>y Ki>l)crt tl.ivrll,
JaiiiMiv ij. iSts.

MKS. Al'DUIION (q

t''ri>iii tlio iiilnl.iturc liy V . Crtiiktliaiik, itlj5.

Audubon 74

I)ttle iiiikiiowii. Krum .a il.i):iicirrvoly|ie uwnotl by M. Kli«» Amliibdii,

AuiH'HON MoNUMiCNT IN TuiNiTY Cnuurii Ckmktkhy, Ni:\v

YouK 76

Flycatchkus. {llnetolore un published.^ 114

Krom n diawiii); \wmV bv Aiuhtboii in iSjft, mul prcxriilml to Mr^
K.itliboiio of (;icrii lldiik, I.iveiiHHil, Jitill in tho po«.Ho*»ion
of the Kathboiic fainily.

Fko.m a I'f.NCiL Sketch ok Auduuon 128

lir.iwii by himitelf for Mr». Kathbon«. Now in tbr poMCision of
Mr. Kich.tiil R. Kathbono, ClUn-y-Mcndi, Anulcncy.

XIV ILL USTRA TIONS.

PAGE

Audubon ix Indiax Dress 132

From a pencil sketch drawn by himself for Miss Rathbone, 1826.
Now in the possession of Mrs. Abraham Dixon (jiie Rathbone),
London, England.

Audubon 206

From the portrait by Henry Inman. Now in the possession of the family.

Facsimile of Entry in Journal 221

Eagle and Lamb 342

Painted by Audubon, London, 1828. In the possession of the family.

Audubon 348

From the portrait by George P. A. Healy, London, 1838. Now in
the possession of the Boston Society of Natural History.

Victor Gifford Audubon 384

From the miniature by F. Cruikshank, 1838.

John Woodhouse Audubon 412

From the miniature by F. Cruikshank, 1838.

Audubon 4-4

From the portrait by Jolin Woodhouse Audubon (about 1S41).

CoLUMBA passerina (now Columbigallina PASSERINA

TERKESTRIS), GROUND DOVE 474

From the unpublished drawing by J. J. Audubon, 1838.

Facsimile of a Page of the Missouri River Journal . 510

Reduced one third.

View on the Missouri River, above Great Bend . . 516

From a water-color drawing by Isaac Sprague.

Indian Hatchet Pipe 532

Carried by Audubon during many of his journeys.

AUDUBON

VOL. I. — 1

INTRODUCTION

TN the brief biography of Audubon which follows,
I have given, I believe, the only correct account
that has been written, and as such I present it. I
am not competent to give an opinion as to the
merits of his work, nor is it necessary. His place
as naturalist, woodsman, artist, author, has long
since been accorded him, and he himself says : " My
enemies have been few, and my friends numerous."
I have tried only to put Audubon the man before
my readers, and in his own words so far as possible,
that they may know what he was, not what others

thought he was.

M. R. A.

AUDUBON

THE village of Mandeville in the parish of St. Tam-
many, Louisiana, is about twenty miles from New
Orleans on the north shore of Lake Ponchartrain. Here,
on the plantation of the same name, owned by the Mar-
quis de Mandeville de Marigny, John James Laforest
Audubon^ was born, the Marquis having lent his home,
in the generous southern fashion, to his friend Admiral
Jean Audubon, who, with his Spanish Creole wife, lived
here some months. In the same house, towards the close
of the last century, Louis Philippe found refuge for a
time with the ever hospitable Marigny family, and he
named the beautiful plantation home " Fontainebleau."
Since then changes innumerable have come, the estate has
other owners, the house has gone, those who once dwelt
there are long dead, their descendants scattered, the old
landmarks obliterated.

Audubon has given a sketch of his father in his own
words in " Myself," which appears in the pages following;
but of his mother little indeed is known. Only within the
year, have papers come into the hands of her great-grand-
children, which prove her surname to have been Rabin.
Audubon himself tells of her tragic death, which was not,
however, in the St. Domingo insurrection of 1793, but in
one of the local uprisings of the slaves which were of

1 " My name is John James Laforest Audubon. The name Laforest I
never sign except when writing to my wife, and she is the only being, since
my father's death, who calls me by it." (Letter of Audubon to Mrs. Rath-
bone, 1827.) All Mrs. Audubon's letters to her husband address him as
Laforest.

AUDUBON

frequent occurrence in that beautiful island, whose history
is too dark to dwell upon. Beyond this nothing can be
found relating to the mother, whom Audubon lost before
he was old enough to remember her, except that in 1822
one of the family Marigny told my father, John Woodhouse
Audubon, then a boy of ten, who with his parents was living
in New Orleans, that she was " une dame d'une beaut^
incomparable et avec beaucoup de ficrte." It may seem
strange that nothing more can be found regarding this
lady, but it is to be remembered these were troublous
days, when stormy changes were the rule ; and the roving
and adventurous sailor did not, I presume, encumber
himself with papers. To these circumstances also it is
probably due that the date of Audubon's birth is not
known, and must always remain an open question. In
his journals and letters various allusions are made to his
age, and many passages bearing on the matter are found,
but with one exception no two agree ; he may have been
born anywhere between 1772 and 1783, and in the face of
this uncertainty the date usually given, May 5, 1780,
may be accepted, though the true one is no doubt
earlier.

The attachment between Audubon and his father was of
the strongest description, as the long and affectionate, if
somewhat infrequent letters, still in the possession of the
family, fully demonstrate. When the Admiral was retired
from active service, he lived at La Gerbeti6re in France
with his second wife, Anne Moynette, until his death, on
February 19, 181 8, at the great age of ninety-five.

In this home near the Loire, Audubon spent his happy
boyhood and youth, dearly beloved and loving, and receiv-
ing the best education time and place afforded. As the
boy grew older and more advantages were desired for
him, came absences when he was at school in La Rochelle
and Paris ; but La Gerb6tiere was his home till in early
manhood he returned to America, the land he loved above

A UDUBON

all others, as his journals show repeatedly. The impress
of the years in France was never lost; he always had a
strong French accent, he possessed in a marked degree
the adaptability to circumstances which is a trait of that
nation, and his disposition inherited from both parents
was elated or depressed by a trifle. He was quick-tem-
pered, enthusiastic, and romantic, yet affectionate, forgiv-
ing, and with unlimited industry and perseverance; he was
generous to every one with time, money, and possessions ;
nothing was too good for others, but his own personal
requirements were of the simplest character. His life
shows all this and more, better than words of mine can
tell ; and as the only account of his years till he left
Henderson, Ky., in 1819, is in his own journal, it is given
here in full.^

MYSELF.2

The precise period of my birth is yet an enigma to me, and I
can only say what I have often heard my father repeat to me on
this subject, which is as follows : It seems that my father had
large properties in Santo Domingo, and was in the habit of visit-
ing frequently that portion of our Southern States called, and
known by the name of, Louisiana, then owned by the French
Government.

During one of these excursions he married a lady of Spanish
extraction, whom I have been led to understand was as beautiful
as she was wealthy, and othenvise attractive, and who bore my
father three sons and a daughter, — I being the youngest of the
sons and the only one who survived extreme youth. My mother,
soon after my birth, accompanied my father to the estate of Aux
Cayes, on the island of Santo Domingo, and she was one of the
victims during the ever-to-be-lamented period of the negro
insurrection of that island.

1 This manuscript was found in an old book which had been in a barn on
Staten Island for years.

2 Reprinted from Scribner's Magazine, March, 1893, p. 267. A few errors
in names and dates are now corrected.

8 AUDUBON

My father, through the intervention of some faithful servants,
escaped from Aux Cayes with a good portion of his plate and
money, and with me and these humble friends reached New
Orleans in safety. From this place he took me to France, where,
having married the only mother I have ever known, he left me
under her charge and returned to the United States in the employ
of the French Government, acting as an officer under Admiral
Rochambeau. Shortly afterward, however, he landed in the
United States and became attached to the army under La Fayette.

The first of my recollective powers placed me in the central
portion of the city of Nantes, on the Loire River, in France,
where I still recollect particularly that I was much cherished by
my dear stepmother, who had no children of her own, and that I
was constantly attended by one or two black servants, who had
followed my father from Santo Domingo to New Orleans and
afterward to Nantes.

One incident which is as perfect in my memory as if it had
occurred this very day, I have thought of thousands of times
since, and will now put on paper as one of the curious things
which perhaps did lead me in after times to love birds, and to
finally study them with pleasure infinite. My mother had several
beautiful parrots and some monkeys ; one of the latter was a full-
grown male of a very large species. One morning, while the ser-
vants were engaged in arranging the room I was in, "Pretty
Polly" asking for her breakfast as usual, '' Du pain au lait pour le
perroquet Mignotine," the man of the woods probably thought the
bird presuming upon his rights in the scale of nature ; be this as
it may, he certainly showed his supremacy in strength over the
denizen of the air, for, walking deliberately and uprightly toward
the poor bird, he at once killed it, with unnatural composure.
The sensations of my infant heart at this cruel sight were agony to
me. I prayed the ser\'ant to beat the monkey, but he, who for
some reason preferred the monkey to the parrot, refused. I
uttered long and piercing cries, my mother rushed into the
room, I was tranquillized, the monkey was forever afterward
chained, and Mignonne buried with all the pomp of a cherished
lost one.

AUDUBON

This made, as I have said, a very deep impression on my
youthful mind. But now, my dear children, I must tell you some-
what of my father, and of his parentage.

John Audubon, my grandfather, was born and lived at the
small village of Sable d'Olhonne, and was by trade a very humble
fisherman. He appears to have made up for the want of wealth
by the number of his children, twenty-one of whom he actually
raised to man and womanhood. All were sons, with one excep-
tion ; my aunt, one uncle, and my father, who was the twentieth
son, being the only members of that extraordinary numerous
family who lived to old age. In subsequent years, when I visited
Sable d'Olhonne, the old residents assured me that they had seen
the whole family, including both parents, at church many times.

When my father had reached the age of twelve years, his father
presented him with a shirt, a dress of coarse material, a stick, and
his blessing, and urged him to go and seek means for his future
support and sustenance.

Some ki7id whaler or cod-fisherman took him on board as a
" Boy." Of his life during his early voyages it would be useless
to trouble you ; let it suffice for me to say that they were of the
usual most uncomfortable nature. How many trips he made I
cannot say, but he told me that by the time he was seventeen he
had become an able seaman before the mast ; when twenty-one
he commanded a fishing-smack, and went to the great Newfound-
land Banks; at twenty-five he owned several small crafts, all
fishermen, and at twenty-eight sailed for Santo Domingo with his
little flotilla heavily loaded with the produce of the deep. " For-
tune," said he to me one day, " now began to smile upon me. I
did well in this enterprise, and after a few more voyages of the
same sort gave up the sea, and purchased a small estate on the
Isle a Vaches ; ^ the prosperity of Santo Domingo was at its zenith,
and in the course of ten years I had realized something very con-
siderable. The then Governor gave me an appointment which
called me to France, and having received some favors there, I
became once more a seafaring man, the government having
granted me the command of a small vessel of war." ^

1 Isle \ Vache, eight miles south of Aux Cayes.

2 This vessel was the " Annelle."

10 AUDUBON

How long my father remained in the service, it is impos-
sible for me to say. The different changes occurring at the
time of the American Revolution, and afterward during that in
France, seem to have sent him from one place to another as if
a foot-ball ; his property in Santo Domingo augmenting, how-
ever, the while, and indeed till the liberation of the black slaves
there.

During a visit he paid to Pennsylvania when suffering from the
effects of a sunstroke, he purchased the beautiful farm of Mill
Grove, on the Schuylkill and Perkiomen streams. At this place,
and a few days only before the memorable battle {sic) of Valley
Forge, General Washington presented him with his portrait, now
in my possession ; and highly do I value it as a memento of that
noble man and the glories of those days.^ At the conclusion of
the war between England and her child of the West, my father
returned to France and continued in the employ of the naval de-
partment of that country, being at one time sent to Plymouth,
England, in a seventy-five-gun ship to exchange prisoners. This
was, I think, in the short peace that took place between Eng-
land and France in 1801. He returned to Rochefort, where
he lived for several years, still in the employ of government.
He finally sent in his resignation and returned to Nantes and La
Gerb^ti^re. He had many severe trials and afflictions before his
death, having lost my two older brothers early in the French
Revolution ; both were officers in the army. His only sister was
killed by the Chouans of La Vendue,* and the only brother he
had was not on good terms with him. This brother resided at

^ The family still own this portrait, of which Victor G. Audubon writes:
" This portrait is probably the first one taken of that great and good man,
and although the drawing is hard, the coloring and costume are correct, I
have no doubt. It was copied by Greenhow, the sculptor, when he was
preparing to model his ' Washington ' for the Capitol, and he considered
it as a valuable addition to the material already obtained. This por-
trait was painted by an artist named Polk, but who or what he was, I
know not."

2 There still remain those who recall how Audubon would walk up and
down, snapping his fingers, a habit he had when excited, when relating how
he had seen his aunt tied to a wagon and dragged through the streets of
Nantes in the time of Carrier.

AUDUBON II

Bayonne, and, I believe, had a large family, none of whom I have
ever seen or known. ^

In personal appearance my father and I were of the same
height and stature, say about five feet ten inches, erect, and with
muscles of steel ; his manners were those of a most polished
gentleman, for those and his natural understanding had been care-
fully improved both by observation and by self- education. In tem-
per we much resembled each other also, being warm, irascible, and
at times violent ; but it was Hke the blast of a hurricane, dreadful for
a time, when calm almost instantly returned. He greatly approved
of the change in France during the time of Napoleon, whom he
almost idolized. My father died in 1818, regretted most de-
servedly on account of his simplicity, truth, and perfect sense of
honesty. Now I must return to myself.

My stepmother, who was devotedly attached to me, far too
much so for my good, was desirous that I should be brought up to
hve and die " like a gentleman," thinking that fine clothes and
filled pockets were the only requisites needful to attain this end.
She therefore completely spoiled me, hid my faults, boasted to
every one of my youthful merits, and, worse than all, said fre-
quently in my presence that I was the handsomest boy in France.
All my wishes and idle notions were at once gratified ; she went
so far as actually to grant me carte blanche at all the confection-
ery shops in the town, and also of the village of Cou^ron, where
during the summer we lived, as it were, in the country.

My father was quite of another, and much more valuable
description of mind as regarded my future welfare ; he believed
not in the power of gold coins as efficient means to render a man
happy. He spoke of the stores of the mind, and having suffered
much himself through the want of education, he ordered that I
should be put to school, and have teachers at home. " Revolu-
tions," he was wont to say, " too often take place in the lives of
individuals, and they are apt to lose in one day the fortune they
before possessed ; but talents and knowledge, added to sound
mental training, assisted by honest industry, can never fail, nor be

1 This brother left three daughters ; only one married, and her descen-
dants, if any, cannot be traced.

12 AUDUBON

taken from any one once the possessor of such valuable means."
Therefore, notwithstanding all my mother's entreaties and her
tears, off to a school I was sent. Excepting only, perhaps, mili-
tary schools, none were good in France at this period ; the thun-
ders of the Revolution still roared over the land, the Revolutionists
covered the earth with the blood of man, woman, and child. But
let me forever drop the curtain over the frightful aspect of this
dire picture. To think of these dreadful days is too terrible, and
would be too horrible and painful for me to relate to you, my
dear sons.

The school I went to was none of the best ; my private teachers
were the only means through which I acquired the least benefit.
My father, who had been for so long a seaman, and w^ho was then
in the French navy, wished me to follow in his steps, or else to
become an engineer. For this reason I studied drawing, geog-
raphy, mathematics, fencing, etc., as well as music, for which I
had considerable talent. I had a good fencing-master, and a
first-rate teacher of the violin ; mathematics was hard, dull work,
I thought ; geography pleased me more. For my other studies,
as well as for dancing, I was quite enthusiastic ; and I well recol-
lect how anxious I was then to become the commander of a corps
of dragoons.

My father being mostly absent on duty, my mother suffered me
to do much as I pleased ; it was therefore not to be wondered at
that, instead of applying closely to my studies, I preferred asso-
ciating with boys of my own age and disposition, who were more
fond of going in search of birds' nests, fishing, or shooting, than
of better studies. Thus almost every day, instead of going to
school when I ought to have gone, I usually made for the fields,
where I spent the day ; my little basket went with me, filled with
good eatables, and when I returned home, during either winter or
summer, it was replenished with what I called curiosities, such as
birds' nests, birds' eggs, curious lichens, flowers of all sorts, and
even pebbles gathered along the shore of some rivulet.

The first time my father returned from sea after this my room
exhibited quite a show, and on entering it he was so pleased to
see my various collections that he complimented me on my taste

AUDUBON 13

for such things : but when he inquired what else I had done, and
I, like a culprit, hung my head, he left me without saying another
word. Dinner over he asked my sister for some music, and, on
her playing for him, he was so pleased with her improvement that
he presented her with a beautiful book. I was next asked to play
on my violin, but alas ! for nearly a month I had not touched it,
it was stringless ; not a word was said on that subject. " Had I
any drawings to show?" Only a few, and those not good.
My good father looked at his wife, kissed my sister, and humming
a tune left the room. The next morning at dawn of day my
father and I were under way in a private carriage ; my trunk, etc.,
were fastened to it, my violin-case was under my feet, the pos-
tilion was ordered to proceed, my father took a book from his
pocket, and while he silently read I was left entirely to my own
thoughts.

After some days' travelling we entered the gates of Rochefort.
My father had scarcely spoken to me, yet there was no anger ex-
hibited in his countenance ; nay, as we reached the house where
we alighted, and approached the door, near which a sentinel
stopped his walk and presented arms, I saw him smile as he raised
his hat and said a few words to the man, but so low that not a
syllable reached my ears.

The house was furnished with servants, and everything seemed
to go on as if the owner had not left it. My father bade me sit
by his side, and taking one of my hands calmly said to me : " My
beloved boy, thou art now safe. I have brought thee here that I
may be able to pay constant attention to thy studies ; thou shalt
have ample time for pleasures, but the remainder must be em-
ployed with industry and care. This day is entirely thine own,
and as I must attend to my duties, if thou wishest to see the docks,
the fine ships-of-war, and walk round the wall, thou may'st accom-
pany me." I accepted, and off together we went ; I was pre-
sented to every officer we met, and they noticing me more or
less, I saw much that day, yet still I perceived that I was like a
prisoner-of-war on parole in the city of Rochefort.

My best and most amiable companion was the son of Admiral,
or Vice-Admiral (I do not precisely recollect his rank) Vivien,

14 AUDUBON

who lived nearly opposite to the house where my father and I
then resided ; his company I much enjoyed, and with him all
my leisure hours were spent. About this time my father was sent
to England in a corvette with a view to exchange prisoners, and
he sailed on board the man-of-war " L'Institution " for Plymouth.
Previous to his sailing he placed me under the charge of his
secretary, Gabriel Loyen Dupuy Gaudeau, the son of a fallen
nobleman. Now this gentleman was of no pleasing nature to me;
he was, in fact, more than too strict and severe in all his pre-
scriptions to me, and well do I recollect that one morning, after
having been set to a very arduous task in mathematical problems,
I gave him the slip, jumped from the window, and ran off through
the gardens attached to the Marine Secretariat. The unfledged
bird may stand for a while on the border of its nest, and perhaps
open its winglets and attempt to soar away, but his youthful im-
prudence may, and indeed often does, prove inimical to his
prowess, as some more wary and older bird, that has kept an eye
toward him, pounces relentlessly upon the young adventurer and
secures him within the grasp of his more powerful talons. This
was the case with me in this instance. I had leaped from the
door of my cage and thought myself quite safe, while I rambled
thoughtlessly beneath the shadow of the trees in the garden and
grounds in which I found myself; but the secretary, with a side
glance, had watched my escape, and, ere many minutes had elapsed,
I saw coming toward me a corporal with whom, in fact, I was
well acquainted. On nearing me, and I did not attempt to escape,
our past familiarity was, I found, quite evaporated ; he bid me,
in a severe voice, to follow him, and on my being presented to
my father's secretary I was at once ordered on board the pontoon
in port. All remonstrances proved fruitless, and on board the
pontoon I was conducted, and there left amid such a medley of
culprits as I cannot describe, and of whom, indeed, I have but
little recollection, save that I felt vile myself in their vile com-
pany. My father returned in due course, and released me from
these floating and most disagreeable lodgings, but not without a
rather severe reprimand.

Shortly after this we returned to Nantes, and later to La

A UDUBON 1 5

Gerb^ti^re. My stay here was short, and I went to Nantes to
study mathematics anew, and there spent about one year, the
remembrance of which has flown from my memory, with the ex-
ception of one incident, of which, when I happen to pass my
hand over the left side of my head, I am ever and anon reminded.
'T is this : one morning, while playing with boys of my own age, a
quarrel arose among us, a battle ensued, in the course of which I
was knocked down by a round stone, that brought the blood from
that part of my skull, and for a time I lay on the ground uncon-
scious, but soon rallying, experienced no lasting effects but the
scar.

During all these years there existed within me a tendency to
follow Nature in her walks. Perhaps not an hour of leisure was
spent elsewhere than in woods and fields, and to examine either
the eggs, nest, young, or parents of any species of birds consti-
tuted my delight. It was about this period that I commenced a
series of drawings of the birds of France, which I continued until
I had upward of two hundred drawings, all bad enough, my dear
sons, yet they were representations of birds, and I felt pleased
with them. Hundreds of anecdotes respecting my life at this
time might prove interesting to you, but as they are not in my
mind at this moment I will leave them, though you may find some
of them in the course of the following pages.

I was within a few months of being seventeen years old, when
my stepmother, who was an earnest Catholic, took into her head
that I should be confirmed ; my father agreed. I was surprised
and indifferent, but yet as I loved her as if she had been my own
mother, — and well did she merit my deepest affection, — I took to
the catechism, studied it and other matters pertaining to the cere-
mony, and all was performed to her hking. Not long after this,
my father, anxious as he was that I should be enrolled in
Napoleon's army as a Frenchman, found it necessary to send me
back to my own beloved country, the United States of America,
and I came with intense and indescribable pleasure.

On landing at New York I caught the yellow fever by walking
to the bank at Greenwich to get the money to which my father's
letter of credit entitled me. The kind man who commanded the

1 6 AUDUBON

ship that brought me from France, whose name was a common
one, John Smith, took particular charge of me, removed me to
Morristown, N, J., and placed me under the carf^ of two Quaker
ladies who kept a boarding-house. To their sk.lful and untiring
ministrations I may safely say I owe the prolongation of my life.
Letters were forwarded by them to my father's agent, Miers Fisher
of Philadelphia, of whom I have more to say hereafter. He came
for me in his carriage and removed me to his villa, at a short dis-
tance from Philadelphia and on the road toward Trenton. There
I would have found myself quite comfortable had not incidents
taken place which are so connected with the change in my life as
to call immediate attention to them.

Miers Fisher had been my father's trusted agent for about
eighteen years, and the old gentlemen entertained great mutual
friendship ; indeed it would seem that Mr. Fisher was actually
desirous that I should become a member of his family, and this
was evinced within a few days by the manner in which the good
Quaker presented me to a daughter of no mean appearance, but
toward whom I happened to take an unconquerable dislike. Then
he was opposed to music of all descriptions, as well as to dancing,
could not bear me to carry a gun, or fishing-rod, and, indeed,
condemned most of my amusements. All these things were diffi-
culties toward accomplishing a plan which, for aught I know to
the contrary, had been premeditated between him and my father,
and rankled the heart of the kindly, if somewhat strict Quaker.
They troubled me much also ; at times I wished myself anywhere
but under the roof of Mr. Fisher, and at last I reminded him
that it was his duty to install me on the estate to which my father
had sent me.

One morning, therefore, I was told that the carriage was ready
to carry me there, and toward my future home he and I went.
You are too well acquainted with the position of Mill Grove for
me to allude to that now ; suffice it to say that we reached the
former abode of my father about sunset. I was presented to
our tenant, William Thomas, who also was a Quaker, and took
possession under certain restrictions, which amounted to my
not receiving more than enough money per quarter than was

V

AUDUBON 17

considered sufficient for the expenditure of a young gentle-
man.

Miers Fisher left me the next morning, and after him went
my blessings, for I thought his departure a true deliverance ; yet
this was only because our tastes and educations were so different,
for he certainly was a good and learned man. Mill Grove was
ever to me a blessed spot ; in my daily walks I thought I per-
ceived the traces left by my father as I looked on the even fences
round the fields, or on the regular manner with which avenues of
trees, as well as the orchards, had been planted by his hand.
The mill was also a source of joy to me, and in the cave, which
you too remember, where the Pewees were wont to build, I never
failed to find quietude and delight.

Hunting, fishing, drawing, and music occupied my every
moment ; cares I knew not, and cared naught about them.. I
purchased excellent and beautiful horses, visited all such neigh-
bors as I found congenial spirits, and was as happy as happy
could be. A few months after my arrival at Mill Grove, I was
informed one day that an English family had purchased the
plantation next to mine, that the name of the owner was Bake-
well, and moreover that he had several very handsome and in-
teresting daughters, and beautiful pointer dogs. I listened, but
cared not a jot about them at the time. The place was with-
in sight of Mill Grove, and Fatland Ford, as it was called,
was merely divided from my estate by a road leading to the
Schuylkill River. Mr. William Bakewell, the father of the family,
had called on me one day, but, finding I was rambling in
the woods in search of birds, left a card and an invitation to
go shooting with him. Now this gentleman was an Englishman,
and I such a foolish boy that, entertaining the greatest prejudices
against all of his nationality, I did not return his visit for many
weeks, which was as absurd as it was ungentlemanly and impolite.

Mrs. Thomas, good soul, more than once spoke to me on the
subject, as well as her worthy husband, but all to no import;
English was English with me, my poor childish mind was settled
on that, and as I wished to know none of the race the call re-
mained unacknowledged.
VOL. I. — 2

AUDUBON

Frosty weather, however, came, and anon was the ground
covered with the deep snow. Grouse were abundant along the
fir-covered ground near the creek, and as I was in pursuit of
game one frosty morning I chanced to meet Mr. Bakewell in the
woods. I was struck with the kind politeness of his manner, and
found him an expert marksman. Entering into conversation, I
admired the beauty of his well-trained dogs, and, apologizing for
my discourtesy, finally promised to call upon him and his
family.

Well do I recollect the morning, and may it please God that I
may never forget it, when for the first time I entered Mr. Bake-
well's dwelling. It happened that he was absent from home,
and I was shown into a parlor where only one young lady was
snugly seated at her work by the fire. She rose on my entrance,
offered me a seat, and assured me of the gratification her father
would feel on his return, which, she added, would be in a few
moments, as she would despatch a servant for him. Other
ruddy cheeks and bright eyes made their transient appearance,
but, like spirits gay, soon vanished from my sight ; and there I sat,
my gaze riveted, as it were, on the young girl before me, who,
half working, half talking, essayed to make the time pleasant to
me. Oh ! may God bless her ! It was she, my dear sons, who
afterward became my beloved wife, and your mother. Mr. Bake-
well soon made his appearance, and received me with the
manner and hospitality of a true English gentleman. The other
members of the family were soon introduced to me, and " Lucy "
was told to have luncheon produced. She now arose from her
seat a second time, and her form, to which I had previously paid
but partial attention, showed both grace and beauty ; and my
heart followed every one of her steps. The repast over, guns
and dogs were made ready.

Lucy, I was pleased to believe, looked upon me with some
favor, and I turned more especially to her on leaving. I felt
that certain "y^ 7ie sais qiioi " which intimated that, at least, she
was not indifferent to me.

To speak of the many shooting parties that took place with
Mr. Bakewell would be quite useless, and I shall merely say that

AUDUBON 19

he was a most excellent man, a great shot, and possessed of ex-
traordinary learning — aye, far beyond my comprehension. A
few days after this first interview with the family the Perkiomen
chanced to be bound with ice, and many a one from the neighbor-
hood was playing pranks on the glassy surface of that lovely stream.
Being somewhat of a skater myself, I sent a note to the inhabi-
tants of Fatland Ford, inviting them to come and partake of the
simple hospitality of Mill Grove farm, and the invitation was
kindly received and accepted. My own landlady bestirred her-
self to the utmost in the procuring of as many pheasants and
partridges as her group of sons could entrap, and now under my
own roof was seen the whole of the Bakewell family, seated round
the table which has never ceased to be one of simplicity and
hospitality.

After dinner we all repaired to the ice on the creek, and there
in comfortable sledges, each fair one was propelled by an ardent
skater. Tales of love may be extremely stupid to the majority,
so that I will not expatiate on these days, but to me, my dear
sons, and under such circumstances as then, and, thank God, now
exist, every moment was to me one of delight.

But let me interrupt my tale to tell you somewhat of other
companions whom I have heretofore neglected to mention.
These are two Frenchmen, by name Da Costa and Colmesnil.
A lead mine had been discovered by my tenant, William Thomas,
to which, besides the raising of fowls, I paid considerable atten-
tion ; but I knew nothing of mineralogy or mining, and my
father, to whom I communicated the discovery of the mine, sent
Mr. Da Costa as a partner and partial guardian from France.
This fellow was intended to teach me mineralogy and mining
engineering, but, in fact, knew nothing of either ; besides which
he was a covetous wretch, who did all he could to ruin my father,
and indeed swindled both of us to a large amount. I had to go
to France and expose him to my father to get rid of him, which
I fortunately accomplished at first sight of my kind parent. A
greater scoundrel than Da Costa never probably existed, but
peace be with his soul.

The other, Colmesnil, was a very interesting young Frenchman

20 AUDUBON

with whom I became acquainted. He was very poor, and I
invited him to come and reside under my roof. This he did,
remaining for many months, much to my delight. His appear-
ance was typical of what he was, a perfect gentleman ; he was
handsome in form, and possessed of talents far above my own.
When introduced to your mother's family he was much thought
of, and at one time he thought himself welcome to my Lucy ;
but it was only a dream, and when once undeceived by her whom
I too loved, he told me he must part with me. This we did with
mutual regret, and he returned to France, where, though I have
lost sight of him, I believe he is still living.

During the winter connected with this event your uncle
Thomas Bakewell, now residing in Cincinnati, was one morning
skating with me on the Perkiomen, when he challenged me to
shoot at his hat as he tossed it in the air, which challenge I ac-
cepted with great pleasure. I was to pass by at full speed, within
about twenty-five feet of where he stood, and to shoot only when
he gave the word. Off I went like lightning, up and down, as if
anxious to boast of my own prowess while on the glittering sur-
face beneath my feet ; coming, however, within the agreed
distance the signal was given, the trigger pulled, off went the
load, and down on the ice came the hat of my future brother-in-
law, as completely perforated as if a sieve. He repented, alas ! too
late, and was afterward severely reprimanded by Mr. Bakewell.

Another anecdote I must relate to you on paper, which I have
probably too often repeated in words, concerning my skating in
those early days of happiness ; but, as the world knows nothing
of it, I shall give it to you at some length. It was arranged one
morning between your young uncle, myself, and several other
friends of the same age, that we should proceed on a duck-
shooting excursion up the creek, and, accordingly, off we went
after an early breakfast. The ice was in capital order wherever
no air-holes existed, but of these a great number interrupted our
course, all of which were, however, avoided as we proceeded up-
ward along the glittering, frozen bosom of the stream. The day
was spent in much pleasure, and the game collected was not
inconsiderable.

AUDUBON 21

On our return, in the early dusk of the evening, 1 was bid to
lead the way ; I fastened a white handkerchief to a stick, held it
up, and we all proceeded toward home as a flock of wild ducks
to their roosting-grounds. Many a mile had already been passed,
and, as gayly as ever, we were skating swiftly along when dark-
ness came on, and now our speed was increased. Uncon-
sciously I happened to draw so very near a large air-hole that
to check my headway became quite impossible, and down it I
went, and soon felt the power of a most chilling bath. My senses
must, for aught I know, have left me for a while ; be this as it
may, I must have glided with the stream some thirty or forty
yards, when, as God would have it, up I popped at another air-
hole, and here I did, in some way or another, manage to crawl
out. My companions, who in the gloom had seen my form so
suddenly disappear, escaped the danger, and were around me
when I emerged from the greatest peril I have ever encountered,
not excepting my escape from being murdered on the prairie, or

by the hands of that wretch S B , of Henderson. I was

helped to a shirt from one, a pair of dry breeches from another,
and completely dressed anew in a few minutes, if in motley and
ill-fitting garments ; our line of march was continued, with, how-
ever, much more circumspection. Let the reader, whoever he
may be, think as he may like on this singular and, in truth, most
extraordinary escape from death ; it is the truth, and as such I
have written it down as a wonderful act of Providence.

Mr. Da Costa, my tutor, took it into his head that my affection
for your mother was rash and inconsiderate. He spoke trifiingly
of her and of her parents, and one day said to me that for a man
of my rank and expectations to marry Lucy Bakewell was out of
the question. If I laughed at him or not I cannot tell you, but
of this I am certain, that my answers to his talks on this subject
so exasperated him that he immediately afterward curtailed my
usual income, made some arrangements to send me to India, and
wrote to my father accordingly. Understanding from many of
my friends that his plans were fixed, and finally hearing from
Philadelphia, whither Da Costa had gone, that he had taken my
passage from Philadelphia to Canton, I walked to Philadelphia,

22 AUDUBON

entered his room quite unexpectedly, and asked him for such an
amount of money as would enable me at once to sail for France
and there see my father.

The cunning wretch, for I cannot call him by any other name,
smiled, and said : " Certainly, my dear sir," and afterward gave
me a letter of credit on a Mr. Kauman, a half-agent, half-banker,
then residing at New York. I returned to Mill Grove, made all
preparatory plans for my departure, bid a sad adieu to my Lucy
and her family, and walked to New York. But never mind the
journey ; it was winter, the country lay under a covering of snow,
but withal I reached New York on the third day, late in the
evening.

Once there, I made for the house of a Mrs. Palmer, a lady of
excellent qualities, who received me with the utmost kindness,
and later on the same evening I went to the house of your
grand-uncle, Benjamin Bakewell, then a rich merchant of New
York, managing the concerns of the house of Guelt, bankers, of
London. I was the bearer of a letter from Mr. Bakewell, of Fat-
land Ford, to this brother of his, and there I was again most
kindly received and housed.

The next day I called on Mr. Kauman ; he read Da Costa's
letter, smiled, and after a while told me he had nothing to give
me, and in plain terms said that instead of a letter of credit. Da
Costa — that rascal ! — had written and advised him to have me
arrested and shipped to Canton. The blood rose to my temples,
and well it was that I had no weapon about me, for I feel even
now quite assured that his heart must have received the result of
my wrath. I left him half bewildered, half mad, and went to
Mrs. Palmer, and spoke to her of my purpose of returning at once
to Philadelphia and there certainly murdering Da Costa. Women
have great power over me at any time, and perhaps under all cir-
cumstances. Mrs. Palmer quieted me, spoke religiously of the
cruel sin I thought of committing, and, at last, persuaded me to
relinquish the direful plan. I returned to Mr. Bakewell's low-
spirited and mournful, but said not a word about all that had
passed. The next morning my sad visage showed something was
wrong, and I at last gave vent to my outraged feelings.

AUDUBON 23

Benjamin Bakewell was a friend of his brother (may you ever
be so toward each other). He comforted me much, went with
me to the docks to seek a vessel bound to France, and offered
me any sum of money I might require to convey me to my father's
house. My passage was taken on board the brig " Hope,"
of New Bedford, and I sailed in her, leaving Da Costa and
Kauman in a most exasperated state of mind. The fact is, these
rascals intended to cheat both me and my father. The brig
was bound direct for Nantes. We left the Hook under a very
fair breeze, and proceeded at a good rate till we reached the
latitude of New Bedford, in Massachusetts, when my captain
came to me as if in despair, and said he must run into port, as
the vessel was so leaky as to force him to have her unloaded and
repaired before he proceeded across the Atlantic. Now this was
only a trick ; my captain was newly married, and was merely
anxious to land at New Bedford to spend a few days with his
bride, and had actually caused several holes to be bored below
water- mark, which leaked enough to keep the men at the pumps.
We came to anchor close to the town of New Bedford ; the cap-
tain went on shore, entered a protest, the vessel was unloaded,
the apertures bunged up, and after a week, which I spent in
being rowed about the beautiful harbor, we sailed for La Belle
France. A few days after having lost sight of land we were
overtaken by a violent gale, coming fairly on our quarter, and
before it we scudded at an extraordinary rate, and during the
dark night had the misfortune to lose a fine young sailor over-
board. At one part of the sea we passed through an immensity
of dead fish floating on the surface of the water, and, after nine-
teen days from New Bedford, we had entered the Loire, and
anchored off Painboeuf, the lower harbor of Nantes.

On sending my name to the principal officer of the customs,
he came on board, and afterward sent me to my father's villa,
La Gerbetiere, in his barge, and with his own men, and late that
evening I was in the arms of my beloved parents. Although I
had written to them previous to leaving America, the rapidity of
my voyage had prevented them hearing of my intentions, and to
them my appearance was sudden and unexpected. Most wel-

24 AUDUBON

come, however, I was ; I found my father hale and hearty, and
chere maman as fair and good as ever. Adored maman, peace
be with thee !

I cannot trouble you with minute accounts of my life in France
for the following two years, but will merely tell you that my first
object being that of having Da Costa disposed of, this was
first effected ; the next was my father's consent to my marriage,
and this was acceded to as soon as my good father had received
answers to letters written to your grandfather, William Bakewell.
In the very lap of comfort my time was happily spent ; I went
out shooting and hunting, drew every bird I procured, as well as
many other objects of natural history and zoology, though these
were not the subjects I had studied under the instruction of the
celebrated David.

It was during this visit that my sister Rosa was married to
Gabriel Dupuy Gaudeau, and I now also became acquainted with
Ferdinand Rozier, whom you well know. Between Rozier and
myself my father formed a partnership to stand good for nine
years in America.

France was at that time in a great state of convulsion ; the re-
public had, as it were, dwindled into a half monarchical, half
democratic era. Bonaparte was at the height of success, over-
flowing the country as the mountain torrent overflows the plains
in its course. Levies, or conscriptions, were the order of the
day, and my name being French my father felt uneasy lest I
should be forced to take part in the political strife of those
days.

I underwent a mockery of an examination, and was received as
midshipman in the navy, went to Rochefort, was placed on
board a man-of-war, and ran a short cruise. On my return, my
father had, in some way, obtained passports for Rozier and me,
and we sailed for New York. Never can I forget the day when,
at St. Nazaire, an ofiicer came on board to examine the papers of
the many passengers. On looking at mine he said : " My dear
Mr. Audubon, I wish you joy; would to God that I had such
papers ; how thankful I should be to leave unhappy France under
the same passport."

AUDUBON 25

About a fortnight after leaving France a vessel gave us chase.
We were running before the wind under all sail, but the unknown
gained on us at a great rate, and after a while stood to the wind-
ward of our ship, about half a mile off. She fired a gun, the ball
passed within a few yards of our bows ; our captain heeded not,
but kept on his course, with the United States flag displayed and
floating in the breeze. Another and another shot was fired at us ;
the enemy closed upon us ; all the passengers expected to receive
her broadside. Our commander hove to : a boat was almost
instantaneously lowered and alongside our vessel ; ^ two officers
leaped on board, with about a dozen mariners ; the first asked
for the captain's papers, while the latter with his men kept guard
over the whole.

The vessel which had pursued us was the " Rattlesnake " and
was what I believe is generally called a privateer, which means
nothing but a pirate ; every one of the papers proved to be in perfect
accordance with the laws existing between England and America,
therefore we were not touched nor molested, but the English
officers who had come on board robbed the ship of almost every-
thing that was nice in the way of provisions, took our pigs and
sheep, coffee and wines, and carried off our two best sailors
despite all the remonstrances made by one of our members of
Congress, I think from Virginia, who was accompanied by a
charming young daughter. The " Rattlesnake " kept us under her
lee, and almost within pistol-shot, for a whole day and night,
ransacking thje ship for money, of which we had a good deal in
the run beneath a ballast of stone. Although this was partially
removed they did not find the treasure. I may here tell you
that I placed the gold belonging to Rozier and myself, wrapped
in some clothing, under a cable in the bow of the ship, and there
it remained snug till the "Rattlesnake" had given us leave to
depart, which you may be sure we did without thanks to her
commander or crew ; we were afterward told the former had
his wife with him.

After this rencontre we sailed on till we came to within about
thirty miles of the entrance to the bay of New York,^ when we
^ " The Polly," Captain Sammis commander. ^ M^y 26, 1S06.

26 AUDUBON

passed a fishing- boat, from which we were hailed and told that two
British frigates lay off the entrance of the Hook, had fired an Amer-
ican ship, shot a man, and impressed so many of our seamen that
to attempt reaching New York might prove to be both unsafe and
unsuccessful. Our captain, on hearing this, put about immedi-
ately, and sailed for the east end of Long Island Sound, which we
entered uninterrupted by any other enemy than a dreadful gale,
which drove us on a sand-bar in the Sound, but from which we
made off unhurt during the height of the tide and finally reached
New York.

I at once called on your uncle Benjamin Bakewell, stayed with
him a day, and proceeded at as swift a rate as possible to Fat-
land Ford, accompanied by Ferdinand Rozier. Mr. Da Costa
was at once dismissed from his charge. I saw my dear Lucy,
and was again my own master.

Perhaps it would be well for me to give you some slight in-
formation respecting my mode of life in those days of my youth,
and I shall do so without gloves. I was what in plain terms
may be called extremely extravagant. I had no vices, it is true,
neither had I any high aims. I was ever fond of shooting, fish-
ing, and riding on horseback ; the raising of fowls of every sort
was one of my hobbies, and to reach the maximum of my desires
in those different things filled every one of my thoughts. I was
ridiculously fond of dress. To have seen me going shooting in
black satin smallclothes, or breeches, with silk stockings, and
the finest niffled shirt Philadelphia could afford, was, as I now
realize, an absurd spectacle, but it was one of my many foibles, and
I shall not conceal it. I purchased the best horses in the country,
and rode well, and felt proud of it ; my guns and fishing-tackle
were equally good, always expensive and richly ornamented,
often with silver. Indeed, though in America, I cut as many
foolish pranks as a young dandy in Bond Street or Piccadilly.

I was extremely fond of music, dancing, and drawing ; in all I
had been well instructed, and not an opportunity was lost to con-
firm my propensities in those accomplishments. I was, like most
young men, filled with the love of amusement, and not a ball, a
skating-match, a house or riding party took place without me.

AUDUBON 27

Withal, and fortunately for me, I was not addicted to gambling ;
cards I disliked, and I had no other evil practices, I was, be-
sides, temperate to an intemperate degree. I lived, until the day of
my union with your mother, on milk, fruits, and vegetables, with
the addition of game and fish at times, but never had I swallowed
a single glass of wine or spirits until the day of my wedding. The
result has been my uncommon, indeed iron, constitution. This
was my constant mode of life ever since my earliest recollection,
and while in France it was extremely annoying to all those round
me. Indeed, so much did it influence me that I never went to
dinners, merely because when so situated my peculiarities in my
choice of food occasioned comment, and also because often not a
single dish was to my taste or fancy, and I could eat nothing from
the sumptuous tables before me. Pies, puddings, eggs, milk, or
cream was all I cared for in the way of food, and many a time
have I robbed my tenant's wife, Mrs. Thomas, of the cream in-
tended to make butter for the Philadelphia market. All this
time I was as fair and as rosy as a girl, though as strong, indeed
stronger than most young men, and as active as a buck. And
why, have I thought a thousand times, should I not have kept to
that delicious mode of living? and why should not mankind in
general be more abstemious than mankind is?

Before I sailed for France I had begun a series of drawings of
the birds of America, and had also begun a study of their habits.
I at first drew my subjects dead, by which I mean to say that,
after procuring a specimen, I hung it up either by the head, wing,
or foot, and copied it as closely as I possibly could.

In my drawing of birds only did I interest Mr. Da Costa. He
always commended my efforts, nay he even went farther, for one
morning, while I was drawing a figure of the Ardea herodias^ he
assured me the time might come when I should be a great Amer-
ican naturalist. However curious it may seem to the scientific
world that these sayings from the lips of such a man should affect
me, I assure you they had great weight with me, and I felt a
certain degree of pride in these words even then.

Too young and too useless to be married, your grandfather
1 Great Blue Heron.

28 AUDUBON

William Bakewell advised me to study the mercantile business;
my father approved, and to insure this training under the best
auspices I went to New York, where I entered as a clerk for your
great-uncle Benjamin Bakewell, while Rozier went to a French
house at Philadelphia.

The mercantile business did not suit me. The very first ven-
ture which I undertook was in indigo ; it cost me several hundred
pounds, the whole of which was lost. Rozier was no more fortu-
nate than I, for he shipped a cargo of hams to the West Indies,
and not more than one-fifth of the cost was returned. Yet I
suppose we both obtained a smattering of business.

Time passed, and at last, on April 8th, 1808, your mother and
I were married by the Rev. Dr. Latimer, of Philadelphia, and the
next morning left Fatland Ford and Mill Grove for Louisville, Ky.
For some two years previous to this, Rozier and I had visited the
country from time to time as merchants, had thought well of it,
and liked it exceedingly. Its fertility and abundance, the hospi-
tality and kindness of the people were sufficiently winning things
to entice any one to go there with a view to comfort and happiness.

We had marked Louisville as a spot designed by nature to be-
come a place of great importance, and, had we been as wise as we
now are, I might never have published the " Birds of America ; "
for a few hundred dollars laid out at that period, in lands or town
lots near Louisville, would, if left to grow over with grass to a
date ten years past (this being 1835), have become an immense
fortune. But young heads are on young shoulders ; it was not to
be, and who cares?

On our way to Pittsburg, we met with a sad accident, that
nearly cost the life of your mother. The coach upset on the
mountains, and she was severely, but fortunately not fatally hurt.
We floated down the Ohio in a flatboat, in company with several
other young families ; we had many goods, and opened a large
store at Louisville, which went on prosperously when I attended to
it ; but birds were birds then as now, and my thoughts were ever
and anon turning toward them as the objects of my greatest delight.
I shot, I drew, I looked on nature only ; my days were happy
beyond human conception, and beyond this I really cared not.

AUDUBON 29

Victor was born June 12, 1809, at Gwathway's Hotel of the
Indian Queen. We had by this time formed the acquaintance of
many persons in and about Louisville ; the country was settled
by planters and farmers of the most benevolent and hospitable
nature ; and my young wife, who possessed talents far above par,
was regarded as a gem, and received by them all with the great-
est pleasure. All the sportsmen and hunters were fond of me,
and I became their companion ; my fondness for fine horses was
well kept up, and I had as good as the country — and the coun-
try was Kentucky — could afford. Our most intimate friends
were the Tarascons and the Berthouds, at Louisville and Shipping-
port. The simplicity and whole-heartedness of those days I
cannot describe ; man was man, and each, one to another, a
brother.

I seldom passed a day without drawing a bird, or noting
something respecting its habits, Rozier meantime attending the
counter. I could relate many curious anecdotes about him, but
never mind them ; he made out to grow rich, and what more
could he wish for ?

In 1 8 1 o Alexander Wilson the naturalist — not the American
naturalist — called upon me.^ About 181 2 your uncle Thomas
W. Bakewell sailed from New York or Philadelphia, as a partner
of mine, and took with him all the disposable money which I had
at that time, and there [New Orleans] opened a mercantile
house under the name of " Audubon & Bakewell."

Merchants crowded to Louisville from all our Eastern cities.
None of them were, as I was, intent on the study of birds, but all
were deeply impressed with the value of dollars. Louisville did
not give us up, but we gave up Louisville. I could not bear to
give the attention required by my business, and which, indeed,
every business calls for, and, therefore, my business abandoned
me. Indeed, I never thought of it beyond the ever-engaging
journeys which I was in the habit of taking to Philadelphia or
New York to purchase goods ; these journeys I greatly enjoyed,

1 This visit passed into history in the published works of each of the
great ornithologists, who were never friends. See " Behind the Veil," by
Dr. Coues in Bulletin of Nuttall Ornithological Club, Oct., 18S0, p. 200.

30 AUDUBON

as they afforded me ample means to study birds and their habits
as I travelled through the beautiful, the darling forests of Ohio,
Kentucky, and Pennsylvania.

Were I here to tell you that once, when travelling, and driving
several horses before me laden with goods and dollars, I lost
sight of the pack-saddles, and the cash they bore, to watch the
motions of a warbler, I should only repeat occurrences that hap-
pened a hundred times and more in those days. To an ordinary
reader this may appear very odd, but it is as true, my dear sons, as
it is that I am now scratching this poor book of mine with a
miserable iron pen. Rozier and myself still had some business
together, but we became discouraged at Louisville, and I longed
to have a wilder range \ this made us remove to Henderson, one
hundred and twenty-five miles farther down the fair Ohio. We
took there the remainder of our stock on hand, but found the
country so very new, and so thinly populated that the commonest
goods only were called for. I may say our guns and fishing-lines
were the principal means of our support, as regards food.

John Pope, our clerk, who was a Kentuckian, was a good shot
and an excellent fisherman, and he and I attended to the pro-
curing of game and fish, while Rozier again stood behind the
counter.

Your beloved mother and I were as happy as possible, the
people round loved us, and we them in return ; our profits were
enormous, but our sales small, and my partner, who spoke English
but badly, suggested that we remove to St. Genevieve, on the
the Mississippi River. I acceded to his request to go there, but
determined to leave your mother and Victor at Henderson, not
being quite sure that our adventure would succeed as we hoped.
I therefore placed her and the children under the care of Dr.
Rankin and his wife, who had a fine farm about three miles from
Henderson, and having arranged our goods on board a large
flatboat, my partner and I left Henderson in the month of De-
cember, 1810, in a heavy snow-storm. This change in my plans
prevented me from going, as I had intended, on a long expedi-
tion. In Louisville we had formed the acquaintance of Major
Croghan(an old friend of my father's), and of General Jonathan

AUDUBON 31

Clark, the brother of General William Clark, the first white man
who ever crossed the Rocky Mountains. I had engaged to go
with him, but was, as I have said, unfortunately prevented. To
return to our journey. When we reached Cash Creek we were
bound by ice for a few weeks ; we then attempted to ascend the
Mississippi, but were again stopped in the great bend called
Tawapatee Bottom, where we again planted our camp till a thaw
broke the ice.-' In less than six weeks, however, we reached the
village of St. Genevieve. I found at once it was not the place
for me ; its population was then composed of low French Cana-
dians, uneducated and uncouth, and the ever-longing wish to be
with my beloved wife and children drew my thoughts to Hender-
son, to which I decided to return almost immediately. Scarcely
any communication existed between the two places, and I felt cut
off from all dearest to me. Rozier, on the contrary, liked it ; he
found plenty of French with whom to converse. I proposed
selling out to him, a bargain was made, he paid me a certain
amount in cash, and gave me bills for the residue. This accom-
plished, I purchased a beauty of a horse, for which I paid dear
enough, and bid Rozier farewell. On my return trip to Hender-
son I was obliged to stop at a humble cabin, where I so nearly
ran the chance of losing my life, at the hands of a woman and
her two desperate sons, that I have thought fit since to introduce
this passage in a sketch called " The Prairie," which is to be
found in the first volume of my " Ornithological Biography."

Winter was just bursting into spring when I left the land of lead
mines. Nature leaped with joy, as it were, at her own new-born
marvels, the prairies began to be dotted with beauteous flowers,
abounded with deer, and my own heart was filled with happiness
at the sights before me. I must not forget to tell you that I
crossed those prairies on foot at another time, for the purpose of
collecting the money due to me from Rozier, and that I walked
one hundred and sixty-five miles in a little over three days, much
of the time nearly ankle deep in mud and water, from which I suf-
fered much afterward by swollen feet. I reached Henderson in
early March, and a few weeks later the lower portions of Kentucky

^ Episode "Breaking of the Ice."

32 AUDUBON

and the shores of the Mississippi suffered severely by earthquakes.
I felt their effects between Louisville and Henderson, and also at
Dr. Rankin's. I have omitted to say that my second son, John
Woodhouse, was born under Dr. Rankin's roof on November 30,
181 2 ; he was an extremely delicate boy till about a twelvemonth
old, when he suddenly acquired strength and grew to be a lusty
child.

Your uncle, Thomas W. Bakewell, had been all this time in New
Orleans, and thither I had sent him almost all the money I could
raise ; but notwithstanding this, the firm could not stand, and one
day, while I was making a drawing of an otter, he suddenly ap-
peared. He remained at Dr. Rankin's a few days, talked much
to me about our misfortunes in trade, and left us for Fatland
Ford.

IMy pecuniary means were now much reduced. I continued
to draw birds and quadrupeds, it is true, but only now and then
thought of making any money. I bought a wild horse, and on
its back travelled over Tennessee and a portion of Georgia, and
so round till I finally reached Philadelphia, and then to your
grandfather's at Fatland Ford. He had sold my plantation of
Mill Grove to Samuel Wetherell, of Philadelphia, for a good
round sum, and with this I returned through Kentucky and at
last reached Henderson once more. Your mother was well, both
of you were lovely darlings of our hearts, and the effects of pov-
erty troubled us not. Your uncle T. W. Bakewell was again in
New Orleans and doing rather better, but this was a mere tran-
sient clearing of that sky which had been obscured for many a
long day.

Determined to do something for myself, I took to horse, rode
to Louisville with a few hundred dollars in my pockets, and there
purchased, half cash, half credit, a small stock, which I brought
to Henderson. Chemin faisatit, I came in contact with, and
was accompanied by, General Toledo, then on his way as a re-
volutionist to South America. As our flatboats were floating one
clear moonshiny night lashed together, this individual opened
his views to me, promising me wonders of wealth should I decide
to accompany him, and he went so far as to offer me a colonelcy

AUDUBON 33

on what he was pleased to call " his Safe Guard." I listened, it
is true, but looked more at the heavens than on his face, and in
the former found so much more of peace than of war that I con-
cluded not to accompany him.

When our boats arrived at Henderson, he landed with me,
purchased many horses, hired some men, and coaxed others, to
accompany him, purchased a young negro from me, presented
me with a splendid Spanish dagger and my wife with a ring, and
went off overland toward Natchez, with a view of there gathering
recruits.

I now purchased a ground lot of four acres, and a meadow of
four more at the back of the first. On the latter stood several
buildings, an excellent orchard, etc., lately the property of an
English doctor, who had died on the premises, and left the
whole to a servant woman as a gift, from whom it came to me as
a freehold. The pleasures which I have felt at Henderson, and
under the roof of that log cabin, can never be effaced from my
heart until after death. The little stock of goods brought from
Louisville answered perfectly, and in less than twelve months I
had again risen in the world. I purchased adjoining land, and
was doing extremely well when Thomas Bakewell came once
more on the tapis, and joined me in commerce. We prospered
at a round rate for a while, but unfortunately for me, he took it
into his brain to persuade me to erect a steam-mill at Henderson,
and to join to our partnership an Englishman of the name of
Thomas Pears, now dead.

Well, up went the steam-mill at an enormous expense, in a
country then as unfit for such a thing as it would be now for me
to attempt to settle in the moon. Thomas Pears came to Hender-
son with his wife and family of children, the mill was raised, and
worked very badly. Thomas Pears lost his money and we lost
ours.

It was now our misfortune to add other partners and petty
agents to our concern ; suffice it for me to tell you, nay, to assure
you, that I was gulled by all these men. The new-born Kentucky
banks nearly all broke in quick succession ; and again we started
with a new set of partners ; these were your present uncle N. Ber-

TOL. I. — 3

34 AUDUBON

thoud and Benjamin Page of Pittsburg. Matters, however, grew
worse every day ; the times were what men called " bad," but I
am fully persuaded the great fault was ours, and the building
of that accursed steam-mill was, of all the follies of man, one of
the greatest, and to your uncle and me the worst of all our pe-
cuniary misfortunes. How I labored at that infernal mill ! from
dawn to dark, nay, at times all night. But it is over now ; I am
old, and try to forget as fast as possible all the different trials of
those sad days. We also took it into our heads to have a steam-
boat, in partnership with the engineer who had come from
Philadelphia to fix the engine of that mill. This also proved an
entire failure, and misfortune after misfortune came down upon
us like so many avalanches, both fearful and destructive.

About this time I went to New Orleans, at the suggestion of

your uncle, to arrest T B , who had purchased a steamer

from us, but whose bills were worthless, and who owed us for the
whole amount. I travelled down to New Orleans in an open
skiff, accompanied by two negroes of mine ; I reached New

Orleans one day too late ; Mr. B had been compelled to

surrender the steamer to a prior claimant. I returned to Hender-
son, travelling part way on the steamer " Paragon," walked from
the mouth of the Ohio to Shawnee, and rode the rest of the
distance. On my arrival old Mr. Berthoud told me that Mr.

B had arrived before me, and had sworn to kill me. My

affrighted Lucy forced me to wear a dagger. Mr. B walked

about the streets and before my house as if watching for me, and
the continued reports of our neighbors prepared me for an en-
counter with this man, whose violent and ungovernable temper
was only too well known. As I was walking toward the steam-
mill one morning, I heard myself hailed from behind ; on turning,

I obsen^ed Mr. B marching toward me with a heavy club in

his hand. I stood still, and he soon reached me. He com-
plained of my conduct to him at New Orleans, and suddenly
raising his bludgeon laid it about me. Though white with
wrath, I spoke nor moved not till he had given me twelve severe
blows, then, drawing my dagger with my left hand (unfortunately
my right was disabled and in a sling, having been caught and

^—:l

AUDUBON 35

much injured in the wheels of the steam-engine), I stabbed him
and he instantly fell. Old Mr. Berthoud and others, who were
hastening to the spot, now came up, and carried him home on a
plank. Thank God, his wound was not mortal, but his friends
were all up in arms and as hot-headed as himself. Some walked
through my premises aimed with guns; my dagger was once
more at my side, Mr. Berthoud had his gun, our servants were
variously armed, and our carpenter took my gun " Long Tom."
Thus protected, I walked into the Judiciary Court, that was then
sitting, and was blamed, 07ily, — for not having killed the scoundrel
who attacked me.

The "bad establishment," as I called the steam-mill, worked
worse and worse every day. Thomas Bakewell, who possessed
more brains than I, sold his town lots and removed to Cincinnati,
where he has made a large fortune, and glad I am of it.

From this date my pecuniary difificulties daily increased ; I had
heavy bills to pay which I could not meet or take up. The
moment this became known to the world around me, that moment
I was assailed with thousands of invectives ; the once wealthy
man was now nothing. I parted with every particle of property
I held to my creditors, keeping only the clothes I wore on that
day, my original drawings, and my gun.

Your mother held in her arms your baby sister Rosa, named
thus on account of her extreme loveliness, and after my own sister
Rosa. She felt the pangs of our misfortunes perhaps more
heavily than I, but never for an hour lost her courage ; her brave
and cheerful spirit accepted all, and no reproaches from her
beloved lips ever wounded my heart. With her was I not always
rich ?

Finally I paid every bill, and at last left Henderson, probably
forever, without a dollar in my pocket, walked to Louisville alone,
by no means comfortable in mind, there went to Mr. Berthoud's,
where I was kindly received ; they were indeed good friends.

My plantation in Pennsylvania had been sold, and, in a word,
nothing was left to me but my humble talents. Were those
talents to remain dormant under such exigencies? Was I to see
my beloved Lucy and children suffer and want bread, in the

36 AUDUBON

abundant State of Kentucky? Was I to repine because I had
acted like an honest man? Was I inclined to cut my throat in
foolish despair? No ! ! I had talents, and to them I instantly
resorted.

To be a good draughtsman in those days was to me a blessing ;
to any other man, be it a thousand years hence, it will be a bless-
ing also. I at once undertook to take portraits of the human
" head divine," in black chalk, and, thanks to my master, David,
succeeded admirably. I commenced at exceedingly low prices,
but raised these prices as I became more known in this capacity.
Your mother and yourselves were sent up from Henderson to our
friend Isham Talbot, then Senator for Kentucky ; this was done
without a cent of expense to me, and I can never be grateful
enough for his kind generosity.

In the course of a few weeks I had as much work to do as I
could possibly wish, so much that I was able to rent a house in
a retired part of Louisville. I was sent for four miles in the
country, to take likenesses of persons on their death-beds, and so
high did my reputation suddenly rise, as the best delineator of
heads in that vicinity, that a clergyman residing at Louisville (I
would give much now to recall and write down his name) had
his dead child disinterred, to procure a fac-simile of his face,
which, by the way, I gave to the parents as if still alive, to their
intense satisfaction.

My drawings of birds were not neglected meantime ; in this
particular there seemed to hover round me almost a mania, and I
would even give up doing a head, the profits of which would have
supplied our wants for a week or more, to represent a litde citizen
of the feathered tribe. Nay, my dear sons, I thought that I now
drew birds far better than I had ever done before misfortune in-
tensified, or at least developed, my abilities. I received an in-
vitation to go to Cincinnati,^ a flourishing place, and which you
now well know to be a thriving town in the State of Ohio. I was
presented to the president of the Cincinnati College, Dr. Drake,
and immediately formed an engagement to stuff birds for the
museum there, in concert with Mr. Robert Best, an Englishman

1 1S19.

AUDUBOxY 37

of great talent. My salary was large, and I at once sent for your
mother to come to me, and bring you. Your dearly beloved
sister Rosa died shortly afterward. I now established a large
drawing-school at Cincinnati, to which I attended thrice per week,
and at good prices.

The expedition of Major Long ^ passed through the city soon
after, and well do I recollect how he, Messrs. T. Peale,^ Thomas
Say,^ and others stared at my drawings of birds at that time.

So industrious were Mr. Best and I that in about six months we
had augmented, arranged, and finished all we could do for the
museum. I returned to my portraits, and made a great number
of them, without which we must have once more been on the
starving list, as Mr. Best and I found, sadly too late, that the
members of the College museum were splendid promisers and
very bad paymasters.

In October of 1S20 I left your mother and yourselves at Cin-
cinnati, and went to New Orleans on board a flat-boat commanded
and owned by a Mr. Haromack. From this date my journals
are kept with fair regularity, and if you read them you will easily
find all that followed afterward.

In glancing over these pages, I see that in my hurried and
broken manner of laying before you this very imperfect (but per-
fectly correct) account of my early life I have omitted to tell you
that, before the birth of your sister Rosa, a daughter was born at
Henderson, who was called, of course, Lucy. Alas ! the poor,
dear little one was unkindly born, she was always ill and suffering ;
two years did your kind and unwearied mother nurse her with all
imaginable care, but notwithstanding this loving devotion she
died, in the arms which had held her so long, and so tenderly.

1 Stephen Harriman Long, Corps of Engineers, U. S. Army, who was
then on his way to explore the region of the upper Mississippi and Minne-
sota Rivers.

2 Titian R. Peale, afterward naturalist of the U. S. Exploring Expedi-
tion, under Commodore Wilkes. Later in life he was for many years an
examiner in the Patent Office at Washington, and died at a very advanced
age. He was a member of the eminent Peale family of artists, one of
whom established Peale's Museum in Philadelphia. — E. C.

8 The distinguished naturalist of that name. — E. C.

38 AUDUBON

This infant daughter we buried in our garden at Henderson,
but after removed her to the Holly burying-ground in the same
place.

Hundreds of anecdotes I could relate to you, my dear sons,
about those times, and it may happen that the pages that I am
now scribbling over may hereafter, through your own medium, or
that of some one else be published. I shall Xry, should God
Almighty grant me life, to return to these less important portions
of my history, and delineate them all with the same faithfulness
with which I have written the ornithological biographies of the
birds of my beloved country.

Only one event, however, which possesses in itself a lesson
to mankind, I will here relate. After our dismal removal from
Henderson to Louisville, one morning, while all of us were sadly
desponding, I took you both, Victor and John, from Shippingport
to Louisville. I had purchased a loaf of bread and some apples ;
before we reached Louisville you were all hungry, and by the
river side we sat down and ate our scanty meal. On that day the
world was with me as a blank, and my heart was sorely heavy, for
scarcely had I enough to keep my dear ones alive ; and yet through
these dark ways I was being led to the development of the talents
I loved, and which have brought so much enjoyment to us alt,
for it is with deep thankfulness that I record that you, my sons,
have passed your lives almost continuously with your dear mother
and myself. But I will here stop with one remark.

One of the most extraordinary things among all these adverse
circumstances was that I never for a day gave up listening to the
songs of our birds, or watching their peculiar habits, or delineat-
ing them in the best way that I could ; nay, during my deepest
troubles I frequently would wrench myself from the persons
around me, and retire to some secluded part of our noble forests ;
and many a time, at the sound of the wood-thrush's melodies
have I fallen on my knees, and there prayed earnestly to our God.

This never failed to bring me the most valuable of thoughts and
always comfort, and, strange as it may seem to you, it was often
necessary for me to exert my will, and compel myself to return to
my fellow-beings.

AUDUBON 39

To speak more fully on some of the incidents which
Audubon here relates, I turn to one of the two journals
which are all that fire has spared of the many volumes
which were filled with his fine, rather illegible handwriting
previous to 1826. In the earlier of these journals I read:
" I went to France not only to escape Da Costa, but even
more to obtain my father's consent to my marriage with
my Lucy, and this simply because I thought it my moral
and religious duty to do so. But although my request
was immediately granted, I remained in France nearly two
years. As I told you, Mr. Bakewell considered my Lucy
too young (she was then but seventeen), and me too un-
business-like to marry; so my father decided that I should
remain some months with him, and on returning to
America it was his plan to associate me with some one
whose commercial knowledge would be of value to me.

" My father's beautiful country seat, situated within
sight of the Loire, about mid-distance between Nantes
and the sea, I found quite delightful to my taste, notwith-
standing the frightful cruelties I had witnessed in that
vicinity, not many years previously. The gardens, green-
houses, and all appertaining to it appeared to me then
as if of a superior cast; and my father's physician was
above all a young man precisely after my own heart; his
name was D'Orbigny, and with his young wife and infant
son he lived not far distant. The doctor was a good
fisherman, a good hunter, and fond of all objects in nature.
Together we searched the woods, the fields, and the banks
of the Loire, procuring every bird we could, and I made
drawings of every one of them — very bad, to be sure,
but still they were of assistance to me. The lessons which
I had received from the great David ^ now proved all-
important to me, but what I wanted, and what I had the
good fortune to stumble upon a few years later, was the*

^ Jacques Louis David {174S-1S25), court painter to Louis XVL and
afterwards to Napoleon I.

40 AUDUBON

knowledge of putting up my models, in true and good
positions according to the ways and habits of my beauti-
ful feathered subjects. During these happy years I man-
aged to make drawings of about two hundred species of
birds, all of which I brought to America and gave to
my Lucy/

•' At last my father associated me with Ferdinand Ro-
zier, as you already know, and we were fairly smuggled
out of France ; for he was actually an officer attached to
the navy of that country, and though I had a passport
stating I was born at New Orleans, my French name would
have swept that aside very speedily. Rozier's passport
was a Dutch one, though he did not understand a single
word in that language. Indeed, our passengers were a
medley crowd ; two days out two monks appeared among
us from the hold, where our captain had concealed
them."

This same " medley crowd " appears to have comprised
many refugees from the rule of Napoleon, this being about
1806, and the amusements were varied, including both
gaming and dancing. To quote again : " Among the
passengers was a handsome Virginian girl, young and
graceful. She was constantly honored by the attentions
of two Frenchmen who belonged to the nobility; both
were fine young fellows, travelling, as was not uncommon
then, under assumed names. One lovely day the bon-
net of the fair lady was struck by a rope and knocked
overboard. One of the French chevaliers at once leaped

1 In 1S36, Audubon wrote to Dr. John Bachman : "Some of my early
drawings of European birds are still in our possession, but many have been
given away, and the greatest number were destroyed, not by the rats that
gnawed my collection of the " Birds of America," but by the great fire in New
York, as these drawings were considered my wife's special property and
seldom out of her sight. Would that the others had been under her
especial care also I Yet, after all, who can say that it was not a material
advantage, both to myself and to the world, that the Norway rats destroyed
those drawings.'"

AUDUBON 41

into the ocean, captured the bonnet, and had the good
fortune to be picked up himself by the yawl. On reach-
ing the deck he presented the bonnet with a graceful
obeisance and perfect sa7ig froid, while the rival looked at
him as black as a raven. No more was heard of the
matter till dawn, when reports of firearms were heard ;
the alarm was general, as we feared pirates. On gaining
the deck it was found that a challenge had been given
and accepted, a duel had positively taken place, ending,
alas ! in the death of the rescuer of the bonnet. The
young lady felt this deeply, and indeed it rendered us all
very uncomfortable."

The voyage ended, Audubon returned to Mill Grove,
where he remained some little time before his marriage
to Lucy Bakevvell. It was a home he always loved, and
never spoke of without deep feeling. His sensitive nature,
romantic if you will, was always more or less affected by
environment, and Mill Grove was a most congenial spot
to him.

This beautiful estate in Montgomery Co., Pa., lies in a
lovely part of the country. The house, on a gentle emi-
nence, almost a natural terrace, overlooks, towards the
west, the rapid waters of Perkiomen Creek, which just
below empties into the Schuylkill river, across which to
the south is the historic ground of Valley Forge. The
property has remained in the Wetherill family nearly ever
since Audubon sold it to Samuel Wetherill in 18 13. The
present owner ^ delights to treasure every trace of the
bird lover, and not only makes no changes in anything
that he can in the least degree associate with him, but has
added many photographs and engravings of Audubon
which adorn his walls.

The house, of the usual type of those days, with a hall
passing through the centre and rooms on either side, was
built of rubble-stone by Roland Evans in 1762, and in
1 Mr. W. H. Wetherill, of Philadelphia.

42 AUDUBON

1774 was sold to Admiral Audubon, who in the year
following built an addition, also of rubble-stone. This
addition is lower than the main house, which consists of
two full stories and an attic with dormer windows, where,
it is said, Audubon kept his collections. The same Frank-
lin stove is in the parlor which stood there giving out its
warmth and cheer when the young man came in from the
hunting and skating expeditions on which he loved to dwell.
The dense woods which once covered the ground are
largely cut down, but sufficient forest growth remains to
give the needed shade and beauty ; the hemlocks in par-
ticular are noticeable, so large and of such perfect form.

Going down a foot-path to Perkiomen Creek, a few
steps lead to the old mill which gave the place its name.
Built of stone and shaded by cottonwood trees, the stream
rushing past as in days long gone, the mill-wheel still re-
volves, though little work is done there now.

When I saw Mill Grove ^ the spring flowers were abun-
dant; the soft, pale blossom of the May-apple (^Podophyl-
lH7n pcltatum) held its head above the blue of many violets,
the fingers of the potentilla with their yellow stars crept
in and out among the tangled grass and early under-
growth ; the trilliums, both red and white, were in pro-
fusion ; in the shade the wood anemones, with their shell
pink cups grew everywhere, while in damp spots by the
brook yet remained a few adder's-tongues, and under the
hemlocks in the clefts of the rocks the delicate foliage of the
Dutchmen's breeches {Dicentra cucidlarid) with a few late
blossoms ; all these and m'any more which I do not now
recall, Audubon has pictured with the birds found in the
same regions, as his imperishable tribute to the home he
loved — Mill-Grove Farm on the Perkiomen Creek.

Fatland Ford, to the south of Mill Grove, is a far larger
and grander mansion than that of the modest Quaker
Evans; as one approaches, the white columns of the
1 April 28, 1S93.

AUDUBON 43

imposing entrance are seen for some distance before enter-
ing the avenue which leads to the front of the mansion.
Like Mill Grove it stands on a natural terrace, and has an
extensive outlook over the Schuylkill and Valley Forge.
This house was built by James Vaux in 1760. He was a
member of the Society of Friends and an Englishman, but
in sympathy with the colonists. One end of Sullivan's
Bridge was not far from the house ; the spot where it once
stood is now marked by the remains of a red-sandstone
monument.^ Washington spent a night in the mansion
house with Mr. Vaux, and left only twelve hours in
advance of the arrival of Howe, who lodged there the
following night.^ The old walled garden still remains, and
the stable with accommodation for many horses. A little
withdrawn from all these and on the edge of a wood are
" the graves of a household," not neglected, as is so often
the case, but preserved and cared for by those who own
Fatland Farm^ as well as Mill Grove,

Dear as Mill Grove was to Audubon, he left it with his
young bride the day following their wedding, which took
place at Fatland Ford on April 8, 1808, and departed
for Louisville, Ky., where he and Rozier, his partner, had
previously done some business. Though they had both lost
money they liked the place, which reason seemed quite suffi-
cient to decide them to return and lose more money, as
they promptly did. They remained at Louisville till 18 10,

^ " I have often seen the red-sandstone monument placed to mark the
terminal of the Sullivan Bridge on our side of the river, but the curiosity
hunters have so marred it that only ' livans ' and part of the date remain."
(Extract from letter of Mr. W. H. Wetherill, Aug. 12, 1893.)

2 This statement is from the " Pennsylvania Magazine of History and
Biography," vol. xiv., No. 2, page 21S, July, 1890.

3 " Under the will of Col. Jno. Macomb Wetherill, late owner of Fatland
Farm, 40 feet square were deeded out of the farm, and placed in trust, and
$1000 trusteed to keep the grove and lot in order. A granite curb and
heavy iron rail surround this plot ; Col. Wetherill was buried there and his
remains lie with those of your ancestors," (Extract from letter of W. H.
Wetherill, May 10, 1S97.)

44 AUDUBON

when they moved to Henderson, where Rozier did what
business was done, and Audubon drew, fished, hunted, and
rambled in the woods to his heart's content, but his purse's
depletion. He describes this life in the episode "Fishing
in the Ohio," and in these rushing times such an Arcadian
existence seems impossible. Small wonder that his wife's
relatives, with their English thrift, lost patience with him,
could not believe he was aught but idle, because he did
not work their way. I doubt not many would think, as
they did, that he wasted his days, when in truth he was
laying up stores of knowledge which later in life brought
him a rich harvest. Waiting times are always long, long-
est to those who do not understand the silent inner growth
which goes on and on, yet makes no outward sign for
months and even years, as in the case of Audubon.

Henderson was then a tiny place, and gains being small
if any, Rozier and Audubon, in December, 1810, started
for St. Genevieve, spent their winter in camp, and reached
their destination when the ice broke up. On April 11,
181 1, they dissolved partnership, and wrote each as they
felt, Audubon saying: "Rozier cared only for money and
liked St. Genevieve; " Rozier writing: "Audubon had no
taste for commerce, and was continually in the forest."

Once more, however, he went to St. Genevieve to try
to get money Rozier owed him, and returned to Hender-
son on foot, still unpaid, in February or March of 18 12.
He had gone with a party of Osage Indians, but his jour-
ney back was made alone. He writes in his journal, simply
with date of April, 1812 : —

" Bidding Rozier good-bye, I whistled to my dog,
crossed the Mississippi and went off alone and on foot,
bent on reaching Shawanee Town as soon as possible ;
but little had I foreseen the task before me, for soon as I had
left the river lands and reached the prairies, I found them
covered with water, like large lakes; still nothing would
have made me retrace my steps, and the thoughts of my

AUDUBON 45

Lucy and my boy made me care little what my journey
might be. Unfortunately I had no shoes, and my mocca-
sins constantly slipping made the wading extremely irksome ;
notwithstanding, I walked forty-five miles and swam the
Muddy River. I only saw tw^o cabins that day, but I had
great pleasure in viewing herds ofDeer crossing the prairie,
like myself ankle deep in water. Their beautiful move-
ments, their tails spread to the breeze, were perceivable
for many miles. A mound covered with trees through
which a light shone, gave me an appetite, and I made for
it. I w^as welcomed kindly by the woman of the house,
and while the lads inspected my fine double-barrelled gun,
the daughters bustled about, ground coffee, fried venison,
boiled some eggs, and made me feel at once at home.

" Such hospitality is from the heart, and when the squat-
ter came in, his welcome was not less genuine than that of
his family. Night fell ; I slept soundly on some bear-
skins, but long before day was ready to march. My host-
ess was on the alert; after some breakfast she gave me a
small loaf and some venison in a clean rag, and as no
money would be received, I gave the lads a flask of gun-
powder, a valuable article in those days to a squatter.

" My way lay through woods, and many small cross-
roads now puzzled me, but I walked on, and must have
travelled another forty-five miles. I met a party of Osage
Indians encamped, and asked in French to stay with them.
They understood me, and before long I had my supper of
boiled bear's-fat and pecan-nuts, of which I ate heartily,
then lay down with my feet to the fire, and slept so soundly
that when I awoke my astonishment was great to find
all the Indians had gone hunting, and only left two dogs
to keep the camp free from wolves.

" I walked off gayly, my dog full of life, but met no one
till four o'clock when I passed the first salt well, and
thirty minutes more brought me to Shawanee Town. As
I entered the inn I was welcomed by several whom I

46 AUDUBON

knew, who had come to purchase salt. I felt no fatigue,
ate heartily, slept soundly without being rocked, and
having come forty miles had only forty-seven more to
walk to reach my home. Early next morning I pursued
my way ; the ferry boat took me from Illinois to Kentucky,
and as night came I found myself with my wife beside me,
my child on my knee."

The time from now till 1819 was the most disastrous
period of Audubon's life, as regarded his finances. With
his brother-in-law, Thomas VV. Bakewell, he engaged in
various ventures in which, whatever others did, he lost
money at every turn. The financial affairs of Kentucky
were, it is true, not on a very sound basis, but Audubon
frankly acknowledges the fault in many cases was his own.
Thomas W. Bakewell was often in New Orleans, where they
had a mercantile establishment, and Audubon spent not
only days, but weeks and months, at his favorite pursuits.
On his journeys to Philadelphia to procure goods he wan-
dered miles in all directions from the main route; when
in Henderson he worked, at times, very hard in the mill,
for, indeed, he never did anything except intensely ; but the
cry of the wild geese overhead, the sound of the chatter-
ing squirrel, the song of the thrush, the flash of the hum-
ming-bird with its jewelled throat, were each and all enough
to take him from work he hated as he never hated any-
thing else.

When first in Henderson he bought land, and evidently
had some idea of remaining there permanently; for, " on
March 16, 18 16, he and Mr. Bakewell took a ninety-
five years' lease of a part of the river front between First
and Second Sts., intending to erect a grist and saw mill,
which mill was completed in 18 17, and yet stands, though
now incorporated in the factory of Mr. David Clark. The
weather-boarding whip-sawed out of yellow poplar is still
intact on three sides, the joists are of unhewn logs, and
the foundation walls of pieces of flat broken rock are four

AUDUBON 47

and a half feet thick. For those days it was built on a
large scale, and did the sawing for the entire country." ^

It has been said that the inside walls had many draw-
ings of birds on them, but this, while quite likely, has
never been proved ; what was proved conclusively is
that, from his woodcutters, whose labors were performed
on a tract of forest land of about 1200 acres, which Au-
dubon purchased from the government, to those who were
his partners, by far the greater number had the advantage
of him. The New Orleans venture has a similar record;
money left him by his father was lost by the failure of the
merchant who held it until Audubon could prove his
right to it, and finally he left Henderson absolutely pen-
niless. He writes : " Without a dollar in the world, be-
reft of all revenues beyond my own personal talents and
acquirements, I left my dear log house, my delightful
garden and orchards with that heaviest of burdens, a heavy
heart, and turned my face toward Louisville. This was
the saddest of all my journeys, — the only time in my life
when the Wild Turkeys that so often crossed my path,
and the thousands of lesser birds that enlivened the woods
and the prairies, all looked like enemies, and I turned my
eyes from them, as if I could have wished that they had
never existed."

From Louisville Audubon went almost at once to
Shippingport, where he was kindly received by his friends
Nicholas Berthoud, who was also his brother-in-law, and
the Tarascon family. Here he was joined by his wife and
two sons, Victor Gififord and John Woodhouse, and again
I quote from Audubon's own words: "As we were
straitened to the very utmost, I undertook to draw
portraits at the low price of five dollars per head, in black
chalk. I drew a few gratis, and succeeded so well that
ere many days had elapsed I had an abundance of work ;

1 From " History of Henderson County, Kentucky," by E. L. Starling,
page 794.

48 AUDUBON

and being industrious both by nature and habit I pro-
duced a great number of those black-chalk sketches." ^
This carried him on for some months, but the curse, or
blessing, of the "wandering foot" was his, and as soon
as money matters were a little ahead, off he went again
to the forests. It was during these years, that is from i8i i
to 1 8 19, that many months were passed hunting with the
Indians, the Osage tribe being the one whose language
Audubon spoke. Late in life he wrote: "Of all the
Indian tribes I know, the Osage are by far the superior."
With them he delighted to track the birds and quadrupeds
as only an Indian or one of like gifts, can ; from them he
learned much woodcraft ; with them he strengthened his
already iron constitution ; and in fearlessness, endurance,
patience, and marvellously keen vision, no Indian sur-
passed him.

He had a wonderful gift of making and retaining friends,
and even in these days of poverty and depression he
never seemed too poor to help others ; and certainly from
others he received much kindness, which he never ceased
to remember and acknowledge. Through one of these
friends — I believe a member of the Tarascon family —
he was offered a position in the Museum at Cincinnati.
Without delay, or any written agreement, Audubon and
his family were again (18 18) in new surroundings, and
the work being congenial, he entered heartily into it with
Mr. Robert Best. The promised salary was large, but
being never paid Audubon began drawing classes to sup-
port his modest household. In Cincinnati he first met
Mr. Daniel Mallory (whose second daughter afterwards
married Victor G. Audubon) and Captain Samuel Cum-
mings. This latter gentleman had many tastes similar to
Audubon's, and later went with him to New Orleans.

The life at Cincinnati was one of strict economy. Mrs.
Audubon was a woman of great ability and many re-
1 Of these many sketches few can be traced, and none purchased.

FROM THE MINIATURE BV F. CRI'IKSHANK, Pl'BLISHED BY ROBERT HAVHLL,

January 12, 1835.

AUDUBON 49

sources, and with one less gifted her unpractical husband
would have fared far worse than he did. To quote again:
"Our living here [Cincinnati] is extremely moderate;
the markets are well supplied and cheap, beef only two
and a half cents a pound, and I am able to provide a good
deal myself; Partridges are frequently in the streets, and
I can shoot Wild Turkeys within a mile or so ; Squirrels
and Woodcock are very abundant in the season, and fish
always easily caught."

Even with these advantages, Audubon, receiving no
money ^ from Dr. Drake, president of the Museum, de-
cided on going to New Orleans. He had now a great
number of drawings and the idea of publishing these had
suggested itself both to him and his wife. To perfect
his collection he planned going through many of the
Southern States, then pushing farther west, and thence
returning to Cincinnati. On Oct. 12, 1820, he left Cin-
cinnati with Captain Samuel Cummings for New Orleans,
but with a long pause at Natchez, did not reach that city
before mid-winter, where he remained with varying suc-
cess until the summer of 1821, when he took a position
as tutor in the family of Mrs. Charles Percy of Bayou
Sara. Here, in the beloved Louisiana whose praises he
never wearied of singing, whose magnolia woods were
more to him than palaces, whose swamps were store-
houses of treasures, he stayed till autumn, when, all fear
of yellow fever being over, he sent for his wife and sons.
Many new drawings had been made in this year of separa-
tion from them, and these were by far the greater part of
the furniture in the little house in Dauphine St., to which
he took his family on their arrival in December, 1821.

The form.er life of drawing portraits, giving lessons,
painting birds, and wandering through the country, began
again, though there was less of this last, Audubon realizing

1 Mrs. Audubon afterwards received four hundred dollars, of the twelve
hundred dollars due ; the remainder was never paid.

VOL. I. 4

50 AUDUBON

that he must make money. He had had to use strong
persuasions to induce Mrs. Audubon to join him in New
Orleans. She had relatives in Cincinnati, as well as many-
friends, and several pupils brought her a small income.
Who, recalling her early married life, can wonder that she
hesitated before leaving this home for the vicissitudes of
an unknown city? She and her husband were devotedly
attached to each other, but she thought more of the un-
certainty for her sons than for herself. They were now
boys of twelve and nine years old, and their mother, whose
own education was far beyond the average, realized how
unwise a thing for them the constant change was. Aud-
ubon was most anxious also that his " Kentucky lads," as
he often called them, should be given every advantage,
but he had the rare quality of being able to work
equally well in any surroundings, in doors or out, and he
failed to understand why others could not, just as he failed
to see why his wife should ever doubt the desirability of
going anywhere, at an}' time, under any conditions. He
thus writes to her in a letter, dated New Orleans, May 3,
1821 : "Thou art not, it seems, as daring as I am about
leaving one place to go to another, without the means. I
am sorry for that. I never will fear want as long as I am
well ; and if God will grant me health with the little talents
I have received from Nature, I would dare go to England
or anywhere, without one cent, one single letter of intro-
duction to any one."

This, as we know, was no empty boast, but the principle
on which Audubon proceeded numberless times in his life.
His own courage, or persuasions, brought his wife, as has
been said, to join him in the Crescent City, and here as
elsewhere that noble woman proved her courage and en-
durance fully equal to his, although perhaps in another
line.

Under the date of January i, 1822, Audubon writes:
" Two months and five days have elapsed before I could

AUDUBON 51

venture to dispose of one hundred and twenty-five cents
to pay for this book, that probably, Hke all other things in
the world, is ashamed to find me so poor," On March
5th of the same year: " During January my time was prin-
cipally spent in giving lessons in painting and drawing, to
supply my family and pay for the schooling of Victor and
Johnny at a Mr. Branards', where they received notions of
geography, arithmetic, grammar, and writing, for six dollars
per month each. Every moment I had to spare I drew
birds for my ornithology, in which my Lucy and myself
alone have faith. February was spent in drawing birds
strenuously, and I thought I had improved much by ap-
plying coats of water-color under the pastels, thereby
preventing the appearance of the paper, that in some in-
stances marred my best productions. I discovered also
many imperfections in my earlier drawings, and formed
the resolution to redraw the whole of them ; consequently
I hired two French hunters, who swept off every dollar
that I could raise for specimens. I have few acquaint-
ances; my wife and sons are more congenial to me than all
others in the world, and we have no desire to force our-
selves into a society where every day I receive fewer bows."
This winter (1821-1822) in New Orleans, proved to
Audubon that his wife's judgment was correct ; it was not
the place for them to make either a permanent income or
home. True, they had been able to live with extreme
simplicity, and to send the boys to school ; they had had
their own pleasures, as the worn, brown volume, the journal
of 1822-24, with its faded entries, bears witness. There
are accounts of walks and of musical evenings when they
were joined by one or two friends of like tastes and talents.
Both played well, she on the piano, and he on a variety of
instruments, principally the violin, flute, and flageolet.
For over two months a fifth inmate was added to the home
circle in Mr. Matabon, a former friend, whom Audubon
found one morning in the market, in a state of great

52 AUDUBON

poverty. He at once took him to his house and kept him
as a guest, till, like Micawber, " something turned up " for
him to do. When this gentleman left, this entry is made :
" Mr. Matabon's departure is regretted by us all, and we
shall sorely miss his beautiful music on the flute."

Summer approaching, when those who purchased pic-
tures and took drawing-lessons were about to leave the
city, Audubon accepted a position as tutor in the house-
hold of a Mr. Quaglas near Natchez. Mrs. Audubon, who
had for some time been teaching in the family of Mr.
Brand, removed to that gentleman's house with her sons;
they, however, were almost immediately sent to school at
Washington, nine miles from Natchez, Audubon's salary
enabling him to do this, and in September he was joined
by his wife.

While at Natchez, the long summer da)'s permitted the
drawing of birds as well as the teaching, which was con-
scientiously performed, and the hope of eventually pub-
lishing grew stronger. In the autumn of this year (1822),
Audubon met a portrait painter named John Steen or
Stein, from Washington, Pa., and thus writes, December,
1822 : " He gave me the first lesson in painting in oils
I ever took in my life ; it was a copy of an Otter from
one of my water-colors. Together we painted a full length
portrait of Pere Antonio, which was sent to Havana."

January, 1823, brought fresh changes. Mrs. Audubon,
with her son John, went to Mrs. Percy's plantation. Beech-
woods, to teach not only Marguerite Percy, but also the
daughters of the owners of the neighboring plantations,
and Audubon, with Victor and Mr. Steen, started on a tour
of the Southern States in a dearborn, intending to paint
for their support. The journal says, March, 1823 ; " I re-
gretted deeply leaving my Natchez friends, especially
Charles Carr^ and Dr. Provan. The many birds I had
collected to take to France I made free ; some of the
doves had become so fond of me that I was obliged to

AUDUBON 53

chase them to the woods, fearing the wickedness of the
boys, who would, no doubt, have with pleasure destroyed
them." So it would seem boys then were much the
same as now. Jackson and other places were visited, and
finally New Orleans, whence Audubon started for Louis-
ville with Victor, May i. The whole of this summer
(1823) was one of enjoyment in many ways to the natural-
ist. He felt his wife was in a delightful home (where she
remained many years), beloved by those around her;
Victor now was nearly fourteen, handsome, strong, and
very companionable, old for his years, and as his father was
always young for his, they were good comrades, and till
both were attacked by yellow fever, the days passed
smoothly on. Nursed through this malady by the ever
devoted wife and mother, who had come to them at once
on hearing they were ill, some time was spent at the Beech-
woods to recuperate, and on October i, 1823, Audubon
with Victor departed for Kentucky by boat. The water
being low, their progress was greatly delayed ; he became
impatient and at Trinity left the boat with his son and two
gentlemen, and walked to Louisville. This walk, of which
we have a full published account ^ began on October 1 5, and
on the 2 1st they reached Green River, when Victor becom-
ing weary, the remaining distance was performed in a
wagon. It was on this journey, which Audubon under-
took fearing, so he says, that he should not have enough
money to provide for himself and Victor in Louisville
beyond a few weeks, that he relates this incident: "The
squatter had a Black Wolf, perfectly gentle, and completely
under the control of his master ; I put my hand in my
pocket and took out a hundred-dollar bill, which I offered
for it, but it was refused. I respected the man for his
attachment to the wolf, for I doubted if he had ever seen
a hundred dollars before."

Louisville was speedily quitted for Shippingport, where

1 See Episode : " A Tough Walk for a Youth."

54 AUDUBON

Audubon engaged a room for Victor and himself, and
painted all winter (1823-24) at birds, landscapes, por-
traits, and even signs.

Shippingport was then a small village with mills, and
was largely owned by the Tarascons and Berthouds, the
latter living in the mansion of the place, and possessed of
a very beautiful garden. Steamers and boats for the river
traffic were built here, and it was a stirring place for its
size, situated on the Falls of the Ohio, about two miles
from Louisville then, but now part of that city. With
forests and river to solace his anxieties, another season was
passed by the man whose whole energies were now bent
on placing his work before the best judges in Europe.
This winter too, he lost one of his best and dearest friends,
Madame Berthoud ; how he felt this parting his own words
best tell: "January 20, 1824. I arose this morning by
that transparent light which is the effect of the moon be-
fore dawn, and saw Dr. Middleton passing at full gallop
towards the white house; I followed — alas! my old friend
was dead ! What a void in the world for me ! I was
silent ; many tears fell from my eyes, accustomed to sor-
row. It was impossible for me to work ; my heart, restless,
moved from point to point all round the compass of my
life. Ah, Lucy ! what have I felt to-day ! how can I bear
the loss of our truest friend? This has been a sad day,
most truly; I h^ve spent it thinking, thinking, learning,
weighing my thoughts, and quite sick of life. I wished I
had been as quiet as my venerable friend, as she lay for
the last time in her room."

As I turn over the pages of this volume^ from which
only a few extracts have been taken, well do I understand
the mental suffering of which it tells so constant!}'. Pov-
erty for himself, Audubon did not mind, but for those he
loved it was a great and bitter trial to him. His keenly
sensitive nature was wounded on every hand ; no one but
1 The before-mentioned journal, 1S22-24.

AUDUBON 55

his wife, from whom he was now absent, had any faith in
him or his genius. He never became indifferent, as most
of us do, to the coldness of those wlio had in earlier days
sought him, not for what he was, but for what he Jiad.
Chivalrous, generous, and courteous to his heart's core, he
could not believe others less so, till painful experiences
taught him ; then he was grieved, hurt, but never imbit-
tered ; and more marvellous yet, with his faith in his
fellows as strong as ever, again and again he subjected
himself to the same treatment. This was not stupidity,
nor dulness of perception ; it was that always, even to the
end, Audubon kept the freshness of childhood ; he was one
of those who had " the secret of youth ; " he was " old in
years only, his heart was young. The earth was fair;
plants still bloomed, and birds still sang for him," ^ It has
been hard for me to keep from copying much from this
journal, but I have felt it too sacred. Some would see in
it the very heart of the man who wrote it, but to others —
and the greater number — it would be, as I have decided
to leave it, a sealed book.

Early in March, 1824, Audubon left Shippingport for
Philadelphia, Victor remaining in the counting-house of
Mr. Berthoud. He had some money, with which he de-
cided to take lessons in painting either from Rembrandt
Peale or Thomas Sully. He much preferred the latter
both as artist and friend, and he remained in Philadelphia
from April until August of the same year. This visit was
marked by his introduction to Charles Lucien Bonaparte ^

1 (With slight alterations) from "Bird Life," by F. M. Chapman, 1897,

P- 13-

2 Prince of Musignano, and subsequently a distinguished ornithologist.
In March, 1S24, Bonaparte was just publishing his " Observations on the
Nomenclature of Wilson's Ornithology," which ran through the " Journal of
the Academy of Natural Sciences," of Philadelphia, from April 5, 1824, to
Aug. 25, 1825, in five parts. This was preliminary to Bonaparte's "Ameri-
can Ornithology," which appeared in four quarto vols., 1825-33, to his
"Synopsis," of 1828, and to his "Comparative List," of 1838. — E. C.

56 AUDUBON

and Edward Harris, both of whom became Hfe-long friends,
especially Mr. Harris, with whom he corresponded fre-
quently when they were separated, and with whom he
made many journeys, the most prolonged and important
being that to the Yellowstone in 1843. To copy again:
"April 10, 1824. I was introduced to the son of Lucien
Bonaparte, nephew of Napoleon, a great ornithologist, I
was told. He remained two hours, went out, and returned
with two Italian gentlemen, and their comments made me
very contented." That evening he was taken to the Phil-
osophical Academy^ where the drawings were greatly
admired, and their author says: " /do not think much of
them except when in the very act of drawing them." At
this meeting Mr. George Ord met Audubon and objected
strongly to the birds and plants being drawn together,
*' but spoke well of them otherwise." Mr. Ord was one of
those (of the very few, I might say) who disliked the
naturalist from first to last,^ who was perhaps, his bitterest
enemy. In later years Dr. John Bachman resented his
conduct, and wrote a very trenchant reply ^ to one of Mr.
Ord's published articles about Audubon ; but there is no
word of anger anywhere in the letters or journals, only of
regret or pain*

Of Mr. Harris we find this: "July 12, 1824. I drew for
Mr. Fairman a small grouse to be put on a bank-note be-
longing to the State of New-Jersey ; this procured me the
acquaintance of a young man named Edward Harris of
Moorestown, an ornithologist, who told me he had seen

1 Probably the Academy of Natural Sciences.

2 Orel had edited the posthumous vols. viii. and ix. of " Wilson's Orni-
thology," which appeared in 1814; and in 1S24 was engaged upon that edition
of Wilson which was published in 3 vols. 8vo, in 1828-29, with a folio atlas
of 76 plates. This is probably enough to account for his attitude toward
Audubon. — E. C.

8 " Defence of Audubon," by John Bachman. " Bucks Co. Intelligencer,"
1835, and other papers.

* Almost the only other enemy Audubon appears to have ever had in
public print was Charles Waterton, who vehemently assailed him in " Lou-

AUDUBON 57

some English Snipes ^ within a few days, and that they bred
in the marshes about him." And also: "July 19th.
Young Harris, God bless him, looked at the drawings I
had for sale, and said he would take them all, at my prices.
I would have kissed him, but that it is not the custom in
this icy city."

Other friends were made here, almost as valuable as Mr.
Harris, though not as well loved, for these two were truly
congenial souls, who never wearied of each other, and
between whom there was never a shadow of difference.
Thomas Sully, the artist. Dr. Richard Harlan,- Reuben

don's Magazine of Natural History," vi. 1833, pp. 215-218, and vii., 1S34,
pp. 66-74. Audubon was warmly defended by his son Victor in the same
magazine, vi. 1S33, p. 369, and at greater length by " R. B.," ibid., pp. 369-
372. Dr. Coues characterizes Waterton's attack as "flippant and super-
cilious animadversion," in " Birds of the Colorado Valley," 1878, p. 622.

The present is hardly the occasion to bring up the countless reviews and
notices of Audubon's published life-work ; but a few references I have at
hand may be given. One of the earliest, if not the first, appeared in the
" Edinburgh Journal of Science," vi. p. 184 (1827). In 1828, Audubon him-
self published " An Account of the Method of Drawing Birds," etc., in the
same Journal, viii., pp. 48-54. The " Report of a Committee appointed
by the Lyceum of Natural History of New York to examine the splendid
work of Mr. Audubon," etc., appeared in " Silliman's Journal," xvi., 1829, pp.
353, 354. His friend William Swainson published some highly commendatory
and justly appreciative articleson the same subject in " Loudon's Magazine,"
i., 1S29, pp. 43-52, and in the " Edinburgh New Philosophical Journal," x.,
1831, pp. 317-332, under the pseudonym " Ornithophilus." Another anony-
mous review, highly laudatory, appeared in the same Journal, xviii., 1S34, pp.
131-144. Dr. John Bachman defended the truthfulness of Audubon's draw-
ings in the "Journal of the Boston Society of Natural History," i. 1834, pp.
15-31. One of the most extended notices appeared anonymously in the
•" North American Review," July, 1835, pp. 194-231 ; and another signed " B,"
in "Loudon's Magazine," viii., 1835, pp. 184-190. In Germany, " Isis von
Oken" contained others, xxx., 1837, pp. 922-928, xxxv., 1842, pp. 157, 158;
and xxxvii., 1844, pp. 713-718. " Silliman's Journal " again reviewed the
work in xlii., 1842, pp. 130-136. — E. C.

^ That is the spacies now known as Wilson's Snipe, Gallinago delicaia.

2 Dr. Richard Harlan is the author of the well-known " Fauna Americana,"
Svo, Philadelphia, 1825, and of many scientific papers. Audubon dedicated
to him the Black Warrior, Falco harlatii, a large, dark hawk of the genus
Bjiteo, shot at St. Francisville, La., Nov. 18, 1829.

58 AUDUBON

Haines, Le Sueur/ Dr. Mease, and many another honored
name might be given.

In August Philadelphia was quitted, and another period
of travel in search of birds was begun. Of this next year,
1825, no record whatever can be found besides the episodes
of " Niagara" and " Meadville," and two detached pages
of journal. Audubon went to New York, up the Hudson,
along the Great Lakes, then to Pittsburg, and finally to
Bayou Sara, where, having decided to go to England, he
made up his mind to resume at once his classes in drawing,
music, and dancing, to make money for the European jour-
ney, for which he never ceased to accumulate pictures of his
beloved birds. Reaching Bayou Sara in December, 1825,
this work at once began by giving lessons in dancing to
the young ladies under my grandmother's care; and Judge
Randolph, a near neighbor, had his sons take lessons in
fencing. In these branches Audubon was so successful
that the residents of the village of W'oodville, fifteen miles
distant, engaged him for Friday and Saturday of each
week, and here he had over sixty pupils. From the ac-
count of this class I take the following: "I marched to
the hall with my violin under my arm, bowed to the com-
pany assembled, tuned my violin ; played a cotillon, and
began my lesson by placing the gentlemen in a line. Oh !
patience support me ! how I labored before I could pro-
mote the first appearance of elegance or ease of motion;
in doing this I first broke my bow, and then my violin ; I
then took the ladies and made them take steps, as I sang
in time to accompany their movements."

These lessons continued three months, and were in
every sense a success, Audubon realizing about $2000

' Charles Alexandre Le Sueur, 177S-1S46, distinguished French natu-
ralist. Best biography in Youman's " Pioneers of Science in America,"
8vo, N. Y., 1S96, pp. 12S-139, with portrait. The same volume contains a
biographical .sketch of Audubon, pp. 1 52-166, with portrait after the oil
painting by George P. A. Healy, belonging to the Boston Society of Natural
History. — E. C.

A UDUBON 59

from his winter's work. With this, and the greater part
of the savings of his wife, which she had hoarded to for-
ward this journey, so long the goal of their hopes, an-
other farewell was taken, the many valued drawings
packed up, and on April 26, 1826, the vessel with the
naturalist and his precious freight left New Orleans for
England.

The journals from this date, until May i, 1829, are kept
with the usual regularity, and fortunately have escaped the
destruction which has befallen earlier volumes. They tell
of one of the most interesting periods of Audubon's life,
and are given beyond, — not entire, yet so fully that I
pass on at once to the last date they contain, which marks
Audubon's return to America, May 5, 1829.

His time abroad had seen the publication of the " Birds
of America " ^ successfully begun, had procured him sub-

1 Of the great folios, parts i.-v., containing plates 1-25, were originally
published at successive dates (not ascertained) in 1827 ; parts vi.-x., plates
26-50, appeared in the course of 1828, — all in London. The whole work
was completed in 1838 ; it is supposed to have been issued in 87 parts of
5 plates each, making the actual total of 435 plates, giving 1065 figures of
birds. On the completion of the series, the plates were to be bound
in 4 vols. Vol. i., pll. i-ioo, 1827-30; vol. ii., pll. 101-200, 1831-34;
vol. iii., pll. 201-300, 1S34-35; vol. iv., pll. 301-435, 1835-38 (com-
pleted June 30). These folios had no text except the title-leaf of each
volume. The original price was two guineas a part ; a complete copy is now
worth $1,500 to $2,000, according to condition of binding, etc., and is scarce
at any price. The text to the plates appeared under the different title of
"Ornithological Biography," in 5 large 8vo volumes, Edinburgh, 1831-39;
vol. i., 1831 ; vol. ii., 1S34 ; vol. iii., 1835; '^'°1- i^-' 1^3^; vol. v., 1839. In
i840--44, the work reappeared in octavo, text and plates together, under
the original title of "Birds of America;" the text somewhat modified
by the omission of the " Delineations of American Scenery and Manners,"
the addition of some new matter acquired after 1839, and change in the
names of many species to agree with the nomenclature of Audubon's
Synopsis of 1S39 ; the plates reduced by the camera lucida, rearranged and
renumbered, making 500 in all. The two original works, thus put together
and modified, became the first octavo edition called " Birds of America,"
issued in 100 parts, to be bound in 7 volumes, 1840-44. There have been
various subsequent issues, partial or complete, upon which I cannot here
enlarge. For full bibliographical data see Dr. Coues' " Birds of the

6o AUDUBON

scribers enough to warrant his continuing the vast under-
taking, and had given him many friends. His object now
was to make drawings of birds which he had not yet figured
for the completion of his work, and then to take his wife,
and possibly his sons with him to England. During these
years Mrs. Audubon was latterly alone, as John had taken
a position with Victor and was in Louisville, Victor,
meantime, had worked steadily and faithfully, and had
earned for himself a position and a salary far beyond that
of most young men of his age. Both parents relied on
him to an extent that is proof in itself of his unusual
ability; these words in a letter from his father, dated
London, Dec. 23, 1828, "Victor's letters to me are highly
interesting, full of candor, sentiment, and sound judgment,
and I am very proud of him," are certainly testimony
worth having. As the years went on both sons assisted
their father in every way, and to an extent that the
world has never recognized.

Great as was Audubon's wish to proceed without delay
to Louisiana, he felt it due to his subscribers to get to
work at once, and wrote to his wife under date of New
York, May 10, 1829: "I have landed here from on board
the packet ship Columbia after an agreeable passage of
thirty-five days from Portsmouth. I have come to America
to remain as long as consistent with the safety of the
continuation of my publication in London without my
personal presence. According to future circumstances
I shall return to England on the ist of October next, or,
if possible, not until April, 1830. I wish to employ and
devote every moment of my sojourn in America to draw-
ing such birds and plants as I think necessary to enable
me to give my publication throughout the degree of per-
fection that I am told exists in that portion already pub-
lished. I have left my business going on quite well; my

Colorado Valley," Appendix, 1S7S, pp. 612, 61S, 625, 629, 644, 661, 666, 669
and 6S6. — E. C.

AUDUBON 6 1

engraver ^ has in his hands all the drawings wanted to
complete this present year, and those necessary to form
the first number of next year. I have finished the two
first years of publication, the two most difficult years to
be encountered." To Victor he writes from Camden,
N. J., July lO, 1829: "I shall this year have issued ten
numbers, each containing five plates, making in all fifty .^
I cannot publish more than five numbers annually, be-
cause it would make too heavy an expense to my sub-
scribers, and indeed require more workmen than I could
find in London. The work when finished will contain
eighty numbers,^ therefore I have seventy to issue, which
will take fourteen years more. It is a long time to look
forward to, but it cannot be helped. I think I am
doing well; I have now one hundred and forty-four
subscribers."

All this summer and early fall, until October loth,
Audubon spent in the neighborhood of New Jersey and
Pennsylvania, working as few can work, four hours con-
tinuing to be his allowance for sleep. Six weeks in
September and October were spent in the Great Pine
Swamp, or Forest,^ as he called it, his permanent lodgings
being at Camden, N.J. Here he writes, October 11, 1829:
" I am at work and have done much, but I wish I had
eight pairs of hands, and another body to shoot the speci-
mens ; still I am delighted at what I have accumulated

1 Referring to Mr. Robert Havell, of No. 77 Oxford St., London. His
name will be recalled in connection with Sterna havelUi, the Tern which
Audubon shot at New Orleans in 1820, and dedicated to his engraver in
" Orn. Biogr." v., 1839, p. 122, " B. Amer.," 8vo, vii., 1844, p. 103, pi. 434. It
is the winter plumage of the bird Nuttall called S.forsteri in his " Manual,"
ii., 1834, p. 274. See Coues, " Proceedings of the Philadelphia Academy
of Science," 1862, p. 543. — E. C.

2 See previous note on p. 59, where it is said that plates 1-25 appeared
In 1827, and plates 26-50 in 1828 — in attestation of which the above words to
Victor Audubon become important. — E. C.

3 It actually ran to 87 numbers, as stated in a previous note.

* See Episodes "Great Egg Harbor" and "Great Pine Swamp."

62 AUDUBON

in drawings this season. Forty-two drawings in four
months, eleven large, eleven middle size, and twenty-two
small, comprising ninety-five birds, from Eagles down-
wards, with plants, nests, flowers, and sixty different kinds
of eggs. I live alone, see scarcely any one, besides those
belonging to the house where I lodge. I rise long before
day and work till nightfall, when I take a walk, and to bed.

" I returned yesterday from Mauch Chunk ; after all, there
is nothing perfect but primitivencss, and my efforts at copy-
ing nature, like all other things attempted by us poor mor-
tals, fall far short of the originals. Few better than myself
can appreciate this with more despondency than I do."

Very shortly after this date Audubon left for Louisiana,
crossed the Allcghanies to Pittsburg, down the Ohio by
boat to Louisville, where he saw Victor and John. " Dear
boys!" he says; "I had not seen Victor for nearly five
years, and so much had he changed I hardly knew him, but
he recognized me at once. Johnny too had much grown
and improved." Remaining with his sons a few days, he
again took the boat for Bayou Sara, where he landed in
the middle of the night. The journal says: " It was dark,
sultry, and I was quite alone. I was aware yellow fever
was still raging at St. Francisville, but walked thither
to procure a horse. Being only a mile distant, I soon
reached it, and entered the open door of a house I knew
to be an inn ; all was dark and silent. I called and
knocked in vain, it was the abode of Death alone ! The
air was putrid ; I went to another house, another, and
another ; everywhere the same state of things existed ;
doors and windows were all open, but the living had
fled. Finally I reached the home of Mr. Nubling, whom
I knew. He welcomed me, and lent me his horse, and
I went off at a gallop. It was so dark that I soon lost
my way, but I cared not, I was about to rejoin my wife,
I was in the woods, the woods of Louisiana, my heart was
bursting with joy! The first glimpse of dawn set me on

AUDUBON 6l

my road, at six o'clock I was at Mr. Johnson's house ; ^
a servant took the horse, I went at once to my wife's
apartment; her door was ajar, already she was dressed
and sitting by her piano, on which a young lady was
playing. I pronounced her name gently, she saw me,
and the next moment I held her in my arms. Her emotion
was so great I feared I had acted rashly, but tears relieved
our hearts, once more we were together."

Audubon remained in Louisiana with his wife till Janu-
ary, 1830, when together they went to Louisville, Wash-
ington, Philadelphia, and New York, whence they sailed
for England in April. All his former friends welcomed
them on their arrival, and the kindness the naturalist had
received on his first visit was continued to his wife as well
as himself. Finding many subscribers had not paid, and
others had lapsed, he again painted numerous pictures for
sale, and journeyed hither and yon for new subscribers
as well as to make collections.

Mrs. Audubon, meanwhile, had taken lodgings in Lon-
don, but that city being no more to her taste than to her
husband's, she joined him, and they travelled together
till October, when to Audubon's joy he found himself
at his old lodgings at 26 George St., Edinburgh, where
he felt truly at home with Mrs. Dickie ; and here he began
the " Ornithological Biography," with many misgivings,
as the journal bears witness: "Oct. 16, 1830. I know
that I am a poor writer, that I scarcely can manage to
scribble a tolerable English letter, and not a much better
one in French, though that is easier to me. I know I am
not a scholar, but meantime I am aware that no man
living knows better than I do the habits of our birds ; no
man living has studied them as much as I have done, and
with the assistance of my old journals and memorandum-
books which were written on the spot, I can at least put
down plain truths, which may be useful and perhaps
^ Mr. Garrett Johnson, where Mrs. Audubon was then teaching.

64 AUDUBON

interesting, so I shall set to at once. I cannot, how-
ever, give scientific descriptions, and here must have
assistance."

His choice of an assistant would have been his friend
Mr. William Swainson, but this could not be arranged,
and Mr. James Wilson recommended Mr. William Mac-
Gillivray.^ Of this gentleman Mr. D. G. Elliot says : ^
" No better or more fortunate choice could have been
made. Audubon worked incessantly, MacGillivray keep-
ing abreast of him, and Mrs. Audubon re-wrote the entire
manuscript to send to America, and secure the copyright
there." The happy result of this association of two great
men, so different in most respects as Audubon and Mac-
Gillivray, is characterized by Dr. Coues in the following
terms ("Key to North American Birds," 2d ed., 1884,
p. xxii) : " Vivid and ardent was his genius, matchless he
was both with pen and pencil in giving life and spirit to
the beautiful objects he delineated with passionate love;
but there was a strong and patient worker by his side, —
William MacGillivray, the countr}-man of Wilson, destined
to lend the sturdy Scotch fibre to an Audubonian cpoch.^
The brilliant French-American Naturalist was little of a
' scientist.' Of his work the magical beauties of form and
color and movement are all his ; his page is redolent of
Nature's fragrance ; but MacGillivray's are the bone and
sinew, the hidden anatomical parts beneath the lovely
face, the nomenclature, the classification, — in a word, the
technicalities of the science."

1 There has been much question as to the spelling of MacGillivray's
name, Professor Newton and most others writing it Macgillivray, but in the
autograph letters we own the capital " G " is always used.

- Address at the special meeting of the Xew York Academy of Sciences,
April 26, 1S93.

' Referring to one of the six "epochs" into which, in the same work,
Dr. Coues divided the progress of American Ornithology. His "Audubon
epoch" extends from 1S24 to 1853, and one of the four periods into which
this epoch is divided is the " Audubonian period," 1834-1S53.

MRS. AUDUBON.

FROM THE MINIATURE BV F. CRUIKSHANK. T835.

AUDUBON 65

Though somewhat discouraged at finding that no less
than three editions of Alexander Wilson's " American
Ornithology" were about to be published, Audubon went
bravely on. My grandmother wrote to her sons: "Noth-
ing is heard, but the steady movement of the pen ; your
father is up and at work before dawn, and writes without
ceasing all day. Mr. MacGillivray breakfasts at nine each
morning, attends the Museum four days in the week, has
several works on hand besides ours, and is moreover
engaged as a lecturer in a new seminary on botany and
natural history. His own work ^ progresses slowly, but
surely, for he writes until far into the night."

The first volume of " Ornithological Biography " was fin-
ished, but no publisher could be found to take it, so
Audubon published it himself in March, 1831.^ During
this winter an agreement had been made with Mr. J. B.
Kidd to copy some of the birds, put in backgrounds, sell
them, and divide the proceeds. Eight were finished and
sold immediately, and the agreement continued till May,
I, 1 83 1, when Audubon was so annoyed by Mr. Kidd's
lack of industry that the copying was discontinued. Per-
sonally, I have no doubt that many of the paintings which
are said to be by Audubon are these copies. They are
all on mill-board, — a material, however, which grandfather

^ Descriptions of the Rapacious Birds of Great Britain. By William
MacGillivray, A. M., Edinburgh, 1S36, i vol. small 8vo. This valuable treatise
is dedicated "To John James Audubon, in admiration of his talents as an
ornithologist, and in gratitude for many acts of friendship." Mr. Mac-
Gillivray also had then in preparation or contemplation his larger " History
of British Birds," 3 volumes of which appeared in 1S37-40, but the 4th and
5th volumes not till 1S52. — E. C.

2 The completed volume bears date of MDCCCXXXI. on the titlepage
and the publisher's imprint of " Adam Black, 55, North Bridge, Edinburgh."
The collation is pp. i-xxiv, 1-512, + 15 pp. of Prospectus, etc. This is
the text to plates I.-C. (i-ioc) of the elephant folios. Other copies
are said to bear the imprint of " Philadelphia, E. L. Carey and A. Hart,
MDCCCXXXI."— E. C.

Audubon wrote to Dr. Richard Harlan on March 13, 1831, " I have sent
a copy of the first volume to you to-day."
VOL. I. — 5

66 AUDUBON

used himself, so that, as he rarely signed an oil painting,^
the mill-board is no proof of identity one way or the
other.

On April 15, 1831, Mr. and Mrs. Audubon left Edin-
burgh for London, then went on to Paris, where there
were fourteen subscribers. They were in France from
May until the end of July, when London again received
them. On August 2d they sailed for America, and
landed on September 4th. They went to Louisville at
once, where Mrs. Audubon remained with her sons, and
the naturalist went south, his wish being to visit Florida
and the adjacent islands. It was on this trip that, stopping
at Charleston, S. C, he made the acquaintance of the
Rev. John Bachman^ in October, 1831. The two soon
became the closest friends, and this friendship was only
severed by death. Never were men more dissimilar
in character, but both were enthusiastic and devoted
naturalists ; and herein was the bond, which later was
strengthened by the marriages of Victor and John to Dr.
Bachman's two eldest daughters.^

The return from Florida in the spring of 1832 was
followed by a journey to New Brunswick and Maine, when,
for the first time in many years, the whole family travelled
together. They journeyed in the most leisurely manner,
stopping where there were birds, going on when they
found none, everywhere welcomed, everywhere finding
those willing to render assistance to the " American back-
woodsman" in his researches, Audubon had the simpli-
city and charm of manner which interested others at once,
and his old friend Dr. Bachman understood this when he

* We only possess one oil painting signed " Audubon."

2 John Bachman, D. D., LL. D., Ph. D., Feb. 4, 1790-April 24, 1874.

Author of many works, scientific, zoological, and religious. For sixty

years he was pastor of St. John's Lutheran Church, Charleston, S. C.

8 Both these daughters died young, — Maria, the eldest, who married

John, before she was twenty-four ; Eliza, who married Victor, still younger,

during the first year of her wedded life.

AUDUBON Gy

wrote : " Audubon has given to him what nobody else can
buy." On this Maine journey, the friendship between the
Lincolns at Dennysville, begun in the wanderer's earher
years, was renewed, and with this hospitable family Mrs.
Audubon remained while her husband and sons made
their woodland researches.

In October of 1832, Victor sailed for England, to super-
intend the publishing of the work ; his father remained
in America drawing and re-drawing, much of the time
in Boston, where, as everywhere, many friends were made,
and where he had a short, but severe illness — an unusual
experience with him. In the spring of 1833, the long
proposed trip to Labrador was planned and undertaken.

The schooner " Ripley," Captain Emery commanding,
was chartered. Audubon was accompanied by five young
men, all under twenty-four years of age, namely : Joseph
Coolidge, George C. Shattuck, William Ingalls, Thomas Lin-
coln and John VVoodhouse, the naturalist's younger son.
On June 6 they sailed for the rocky coasts and storm-beaten
islands, which are so fully described in the Labrador Jour-
nal, now first published entire in the present work.

Victor was still in England, and to him his father wrote,
on May 16, 1833, a long letter filled with careful direc-
tions as to the completion of the work now so far accom-
plished, and which was so dear — as it is to-day — to all
the family. The entire letter is too long and too personal
to give beyond a few extracts: " Should the Author of all
things deprive us of our lives, work for and comfort the
dear being who gave you birth. Work for her, my son,
as long as it may be the pleasure of God to grant her life ;
never neglect her a moment; in a word, prove to her that
you are truly a son ! Continue the publication of our
work to the last ; you have in my journals all necessary
facts, and in yourself sufficient ability to finish the letter-
press, with the assistance of our worthy friend John Bach-
man, as well as MacGillivray. If you should deem it wise

68 AUDUBON

to remove the publication of the work to this country, I
advise you to settle in Boston ; / have faitJi in tlie Bos-
tonians. I entreat you to be careful, industrious, and per-
severing; pay every one most punctually, and never permit
your means to be over-reached. May the blessings of
those who love you be always with you, supported by
those of Almighty God."

During the Labrador voyage, which was both arduous
and expensive, many bird-skins (seventy-three) were pre-
pared and brought back, besides the drawings made, a large
collection of plants, and other curiosities. Rough as the
experience was, it was greatly enjoyed, especially by the
young men. Only one of these ^ is now living (1897),
and he bears this testimony to the character of the
naturalist, with whom he spent three months in the closest
companionship. In a letter to me dated Oct. 9, 1896, he
says: " You had only to meet him to love him ; and when
you had conversed with him for a moment, you looked
upon him as an old friend, rather than a stranger. ... To
this day I can see him, a magnificent gray-haired man,
childlike in his simplicity, kind-hearted, noblc-soulcd, lover
of nature and lover of youth, friend of humanity, and one
whose religion was the golden rule."

The Labrador expedition ended with summer, and Mr.
and Mrs. Audubon went southward by land, John going
by water to meet them at Charleston, S. C, — Victor
meanwhile remaining in London. In the ever hospitable
home of the Bachmans part of the winter of 1833-34 was
spent, and many a tale is told of hunting parties, of camp-
ing in the Southern forests, while the drawings steadily
increased in number. Leaving Charleston, the travels
were continued through North and South Carolina and

1 Mr. Joseph Coolidge, formerly of Maine, now of San Francisco, Cal.
Two others are known by name to every ornithologist through Audu-
bon's Einberiza shattuckii and Fringilla limolnii ; for these birds see notes
beyond. — E. C.

AUDUBON 69

northward to New York, when the three sailed for Liver-
pool April 16, and joined Victor in London, in May,

1834.

It has been erroneously stated that Audubon kept no
journals during this second visit to England and Scotland,
for the reasons that his family — for whom he wrote —
was with him, and also that he worked so continuously for
the "Ornithological Biography; " but this is a mistake.
Many allusions to the diaries of these two years from
April, 1834, until August, 1836, are found, and conclusive
proof is that Victor writes: "On the 19th of July last,
1845, the copper-plates from which the " Birds of America "
had been printed were ruined by fire,^ though not entirely
destroyed, as were many of my father's journals, — most
unfortunately those which he had written during his
residence in London and Edinburgh while writing and
publishing the letter-press."

It was at this time that Victor and John went to the
Continent for five months, being with their parents the
remainder of the time, both studying painting in their
respective branches, Victor working at landscapes, John
at portraits and birds.

In July, 1836, Audubon and John returned to America,
to find that nearly everything in the way of books, papers,
the valuable and curious things collected both at home
and abroad, had been destroyed in New York in the fire
of 1835, Mr, Berthoud's warehouse being one of those
blown up with gunpowder to stay the spread of the fire.
Mrs. Audubon and Victor remained in London, in the
house where they had lived some time, 4 Wimpole St.,
Cavendish Square. After a few weeks in New York,
father and son went by land to Charleston, pausing at
Washington and other cities ; and being joined by Mr.
Edward Harris in the spring of 1837, they left Dr. Bach-
man's where they had spent the winter, for the purpose

1 The offices 34 Liberty St., New York, were burned at this time.

70 AUDUBON

of exploring part of the coast of the Gulf of Mexico.
This expedition they were assisted in making by Col. John
Abert,^ who procured them the Revenue cutter " Camp-
bell." Fire having afterward (in 1845) destroyed the jour-
nals of this period, only a few letters remain to tell us of
the coasting voyage to Galveston Bay, Texas, though the
ornithological results of this journey are all in the " Birds
of America." It was during this visit to Charleston that
the plans were begun which led to the " Quadrupeds of
North America," under the joint authorship of Audubon
and Bachman.^

In the late summer of 1837, Audubon, with John and
his wife, — for he had married Maria, Dr. Bachman's
eldest daughter, — returned to England, his last voyage
there, and remained abroad until the autumn of 1839,
when the family, with the addition of the first grandchild,^
once more landed in America, and settled, if such wander-
ers can ever be said to settle, in New York, in the then
uptown region of 86 White St.

The great ornithological work had been finished, abso-

1 John James Abert, who was in 1837 brevet lieutenant-colonel of Top-
ographical Engineers, U. S. Army, and afterward chief of his corps.
Abert's Squirrel, Sciurus aberti, forms the subject of plate 153, fig. i, of
Audubon and Bachman's " Quadrupeds."

2 This important and standard work on American Mammalogy was not,
however, finished till many years afterward, nor did Audubon live to see
its completion. Publication of the colored plates in oblong folio, with-
out text, began at least as early as 1840, and with few exceptions they first
appeared in this form. They were subsequently reduced to large octavo
size, and issued in parts with the text, then first published. The whole,
text and plates, were then gathered in 3 volumes : vol. i., 1846 ; vol. ii.,
1851 ; vol. iii., to page 254 and pi. 150, 1853 ; vol. iii., p. 255 to end, 1854.

.There are in all 155 plates; 50 in vol. i., 50 in vol. ii., 55 in vol. iii. ;
about half of them are from Andubon's brush, the rest by John Wood-
house. The exact character of the joint authorship does not appear;
but no doubt the technical descriptions are by Dr. Bachman. Publication
was made in New York by Victor Audubon ; and there was a reissue
of some parts of the work at least, as vol. i. is found with copyright of 1849,
and date 1851 on the title. — E. C.

' Lucy, now Mrs. Delancey B. Williams.

AUDUBON 71

lutely completed,^ in the face of incredible delays and diffi-
culties, and representing an amount of work which in these
days of easy travel it is hard to comprehend. The " Syn-
opsis " also was published in this year, and the indefatigable
worker began at once the octavo edition of the " Birds," and
the drawings of the quadrupeds. For this edition of the
" Birds " Victor attended almost wholly to the printing and
publishing, and John reduced every drawing to the required
size with the aid of the camera lucida, Audubon devoting
his time to the coloring and obtaining of subscribers.

Having fully decided to settle in New York City, and
advised their friends to that effect, Audubon found he
could not live in any city, except, as he writes, " perhaps
fair Edinburgh;" so in the spring of 1842, the town
house was sold, and the family moved to " Minniesland,"
now known as Audubon Park, in the present limits of New
York City. The name came from the fact that my father
and uncle always used the Scotch name " Minnie " for
mother. The land when bought was deeded to her, and
always spoken of as Minnie's land, and this became the
name which the Audubons gave it, by which to day those
of us who are left recall the lovely home where their
happy childhood was spent ; for here were born all but
three of the fourteen grandchildren.

No railroad then separated the lawn from the beach
where Audubon so often hauled the seine; the dense

1 Victor Audubon wrote in reply to a question as to how many copies
of the " Birds " were in existence : " About 175 copies ; of these I should
say 80 were in our own country. The length of time over which the work
extended brought many changes to original subscribers, and this accounts
for the odd volumes which are sometimes offered for sale."

In stating that the work had been " absolutely completed " in 1838, 1 must
not omit to add that when the octavo reissue appeared it contained a few
additional birds chiefly derived from Audubon's fruitful voyage up the
Missouri in 1843, which also yielded much material for the work on the
Quadrupeds. The appearance of the " Synopsis " in 1839 marks the interval
between the completion of the original undertaking and the beginning
of plans for its reduction to octavo. — E. C.

72 AUDUBON

woods all around resounded to the songs of the birds he
so loved; many animals (deer, elk, moose, bears, vvolv^es,
foxes, and smaller quadrupeds) were kept in enclosures
— never in cages — mostly about a quarter of a mile
distant from the river, near the little building known
as the " painting house." What joyous memories are
those of the rush out of doors, lessons being over, to the
little brook, following which one gathered the early blos-
soms in their season, or in the autumn cleared out leaves,
that its waters might flow unimpeded, and in winter found
icicles of wondrous shape and beauty ; and just beyond its
source stood the painting house, where every child was
always welcome,^ where the wild flowers from hot little
hands were painted in the pictures of what we called " the
animals," to the everlasting pride and glory of their
finder.

It was hoped that only shorter trips would now be
taken, and a visit to Canada as far as Quebec was made
in August and September of 1842.

But even in this home after his own tastes, where hospi-
tality and simplicity ruled, Audubon could not stay, for
his heart had always been set on going farther west, and
though both family and friends thought him growing too
old for such a journey, he started in March, 1843, ^o^ St.
Louis, and thence up the Missouri on the steamboat
" Omega " of the American Fur Company, which left on its
annual trip April 25, 1843, taking up supplies of all
sorts, and returning with thousands of skins and furs.
Here again Audubon speaks for himself, and I shall not
now anticipate his account with words of mine, as the
Missouri journal follows in full. He was accompanied
on this trip by Mr. Edward Harris, his faithful friend of
many years, John G. Bell as taxidermist, Isaac Sprague

• " These little folk, of all sizes, sit and play in my room and do not
touch the specimens." (Letter of Dr. Bachman, May 11, 1848, to his family
in Charleston.)

AUDUBON 73

as artist, and Lewis Squires as secretary and general
assistant. With the exception of Mr. Harris, all were
engaged by Audubon, who felt his time was short, his
duties many, while the man of seventy (?) had no longer
the strength of youth.

November of 1843 saw him once more at Minniesland,
and the long journeys were forever over; but work
on the " Quadrupeds " was continued with the usual
energy. The next few years were those of great happi-
ness. His valued friend Dr. Thomas M. Brewer, of
Boston, visited him in 1846. Writing of him Dr. Brewer
says : ^ " The patriarch had greatly changed since I had
last seen him. He wore his hair longer, and it now hung
down in locks of snowy whiteness on his shoulders. His
once piercing gray eyes, though still bright, had already
begun to fail him. He could no longer paint with his
wonted accuracy, and had at last, most reluctantly, been
forced to surrender to his sons the task of completing the
illustrations to the " Quadrupeds of North America."
Surrounded by his large family, including his devoted wife,
his two sons with their wives,^ and quite a troop of grand-
children, his enjoyments of life seemed to leave him little
to desire. ... A pleasanter scene, or a more interesting
household it has never been the writer's good fortune to
witness."

Of this period one of his daughters-in-law ^speaks
in her journal as follows : " Mr. Audubon was of a most
kindly nature; he never passed a workman or a stranger
of either sex without a salutation, such as, ' Good-day,
friend,' 'Well, my good man, how do you do?' If a
boy, it was, ' Well, my little man,' or a little girl, ' Good
morning, lassie, how are you to-day?' All were noticed,

1 Harper's Monthly Magazine, October, 18S0, p. 665.
- Both sons had married a second time. Victor had married Georgiana
R. Mallory of New York, and John, Caroline Hall of England.
3 Mrs. V. G. Audubon.

74 AUDUBON

and his pleasant smile was so cordial that all the villagers
and work-people far and near, knew and liked him. He
painted a little after his return from the Yellowstone
River, but as he looked at his son John's animals, he said :
* Ah, Johnny, no need for the old man to paint any more
when you can do work like that.' He was most affection-
ate in his disposition, very fond of his grandchildren, and
it was a pleasant sight to see him sit with one on his
knee, and others about him, singing French songs in his
lively way. It was sweet too, to see him with his wife ;
he was always her lover, and invariably used the pro-
nouns ' thee ' and ' thou ' in his speech to her. Often have
I heard him say, ' Well, sweetheart ! always busy ; come
sit thee down a few minutes and rest.' "

My mother has told me that when the picture of the
Cougars came from Texas, where my father had painted it,
my grandfather's delight knew no bounds. He was be-
side himself with joy that " his boy Johnny " could paint
a picture he considered so fine ; he looked at it from every
point, and could not keep quiet, but walked up and down
filled with delight.

Of these years much might be said, but much has
already been written of them, so I will not repeat.^ Many
characteristics Audubon kept to the last; his enthusiasm,
freshness, and keenness of enjoyment and pain were never
blunted. His ease and grace of speech and movement
were as noticeable in the aged man as they had been in
the happy youth of Mill Grove. His courteous manners
to all, high and low, were always the same ; his chivalry,
generosity, and honor were never dimmed, and his great
personal beauty never failed to attract attention; always
he was handsome. His stepmother writes from Nantes
to her husband in Virginia : " He is the handsomest boy
in Nantes, but perhaps not the most studious." At Mill

* Reminiscences of Audubon, Scribner's Monthly, July, 1S76, p. 333;
Turf, Field, and Farm, Nov. iS, iSSl.

AUDUBON.

DATE UNKNOWN. FROM A DAGUERREOTYPE OWNED PV M. ELIZA AUDUBON.

AUDUBON 7S

Grove Mr. David Pawling wrote in January, 1805: "To-
day I saw the swiftest skater I ever beheld ; backwards
and forwards he went like the wind, even leaping over
large air-holes fifteen or more feet across, and continuing
to skate without an instant's delay. I was told he was
a young Frenchman, and this evening I met him at a
ball, where I found his dancing exceeded his skating;
all the ladies wished him as partner; moreover, a hand-
somer man I never saw, his eyes alone command atten-
tion; his name, Audubon, is strange to me."

Abroad it was the same ; Mr. Rathbone speaks of " his
beautiful expressive face," as did Christopher North, and
so on until the beauty of youth and manhood passed into
the " magnificent gray-haired man."

But " the gay young Frenchman who danced with all
the girls," was an old man now, not so much as the years
go, but in the intensity of his life. He had never done
anything by halves ; he had played and worked, enjoyed
and sorrowed, been depressed and elated, each and all
with his highly strung nature at fever heat, and the end
was not far. He had seen the accomplishment of his
hopes in the " Birds," and the " Quadrupeds " he was
content to leave largely to other hands; and surely no man
ever had better helpers. From first to last his wife had
worked, in more ways than one, to further the aim of his
life; Victor had done the weary mechanical business
work; John had hunted, and preserved specimens, taken
long journeys — notably to Texas and California — and
been his father's travelling companion on more than one
occasion. Now the time had come when he no longer
led; Victor had full charge of the publication of the
" Quadrupeds," besides putting in many of the back-
grounds, and John painted a large proportion of the
animals. But I think that none of them regarded their
work as individual, — it was always ours, for father and
sons were comrades and friends ; and with Dr. Bachman's

76 AUDUBON

invaluable aid this last work was finished, but not during
Audubon's life. He travelled more or less in the inter-
ests of his publications during these years, largely in New
England and in the Middle States.

In 1847 the brilliant intellect began to be dimmed; at
first it was only the difficulty of finding the right word to
express an idea, the gradual lessening of interest, and this
increased till in May, 1848, Dr. Bachman tells the pa-
thetic close of the enthusiastic and active life : " Alas,
my poor friend Audubon ! The outlines of his beautiful
face and form are there, but his noble mind is all in ruins.
It is indescribably sad."

Through these last years the devotion of the entire
household was his. He still loved to wander in the
woods, he liked to hear his wife read to him, and music
was ever a delight. To the very last his daughter-in-law,
Mrs. Victor G. Audubon, sang a little Spanish song to
him every evening, rarely permitting anything to interfere
with what gave him so much pleasure, and evening by
evening he listened to the Bucnas Noclies, which was so
soon to be his in reality.

His grandchildren, also, were a constant source of en-
joyment to him, and he to them, for children always found
a friend in him; and thus quietly did he pass through that
valley which had no shadows for him.

I wish to wholly correct the statement that Audubon
became blind. His sight became impaired by old age,
as is usually the case ; he abhorred spectacles or glasses
of any kind, would not wear them except occasionally,
and therefore did not get the right focus for objects near
by; but his far-sight was hardly impaired. That won-
derful vision which surprised even the keen-eyed Indian
never failed him.

Well do I remember the tall figure with snow-white
hair, wandering peacefully along the banks of the beautiful
Hudson. Already he was resting in that border land

AUDUP.ON MONUMENT IN TRIXITV CHURCH CEMETEKV, NEW YORK.

The reverse of the base bears the inscription —

Erected to the Memory' of

JOHN JAMES AUDUBON

In the year 1893, by subscriptions raised by the

New York Academy of Science.

AUDUBON J7

which none can fathom, and it could not have been far to
go, no long and weary journey, when, after a few days of
increasing feebleness, for there was no illness, just as sun-
set was flooding the pure, snow-covered landscape with
golden light, at five o'clock on Monday, January 27, 185 1,
the " pard-like spirit, beautiful and swift, . . . outsoared
the shadow of our night."

In a quiet spot in Trinity Church Cemetery, not far from
the home where Audubon spent his last years, the remains
of the naturalist were laid with all honor and respect, on
the Thursday following his death. Time brought changes
which demanded the removal of the first burial-place, and
a second one was chosen in the same cemetery, which is
now marked by the beautiful monument erected by the
New York Academy of Sciences.^

Now wife and sons have joined him ; together they rest
undisturbed by winter storms or summer heat; the river
they loved so well flows past their silent home as in
days long gone when its beauties won their hearts.

Truly the place where they dwelt shall know them no
more, but " while the melody of the mocking-bird is heard
in the cypress forests of Louisiana, and the squirrel leaps
from its leafy curtain like a thing of beauty, the name of
Audubon will live in the hearts of coming generations."

* Unveiled April 26, 1893, °" which occasion eulogies were pronounced by
Mr. D. G. Elliot, ex-president of the American Ornithologists' Union, and
Prof. Thomas Egleston of Columbia College.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS

1826-1829

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS

1826-1829

ON the 26th April, 1826, I left my beloved wife Lucy
Audubon, and my son John Woodhouse with our
friends the Percys at Bayou Sara. I remained at Doctor
Pope's at St. Francisville till Wednesday at four o'clock
P. M., when I took the steamboat " Red River," Captain
Kemble, for New Orleans, which city I reached at noon
on Wednesday, 27th, Visited many vessels for my pas-
sage to England, and concluded to go in the ship " Delos "
of Kennebunk, Captain Joseph Hatch, bound to Liverpool,
and loaded entirely with cotton. During my stay in New
Orleans, I lived at G. L. Sapinot's, and saw many of my
old friends and acquaintances, but the whole time of wait-
ing was dull and heavy. I generally walked from morning
till dusk. New Orleans, to a man who does not trade in
dollars or other such stuff, is a miserable spot. Finally,
discovering that the ship would not be ready for sea for
several days longer, I ascended the Mississippi again in
the " Red River," and arrived at Mrs. Percy's at three
o'clock in the morning, having had a dark ride through
the Magnolia woods. I remained two days, left at sunrise,
and breakfasted with my good friend Augustin Bourgeat.
Arrived at New Orleans, I called on the governor, who
gave me a letter bearing the seal of the State, obviating
the necessity of a passport. I received many letters of
introduction from different persons which will be of use to
me. Also I wrote to Charles Bonaparte, apprising him of
the box of bird skins forwarded to him.

VOL. I. — 6

82 AUDUBON

On the 17t]i of May, my baggage was put on board, I
following, and the steamboat " Hercules " came alongside
at seven P. M., and in ten hours put the " Delos " to sea. I
was immediately affected with sea-sickness, which, however,
lasted but a short time ; I remained on deck constantly,
forcing myself to exercise. We calculated our day of
departure to be May i8, 1826, at noon, when we first
made an observation. It is now the 28th ; the weather
has been generally fair with light winds. The first objects
which diverted my thoughts from the dear ones left behind
me, were the beautiful Dolphins that glided by the vessel
like burnished gold by day, and bright meteors by night.
Our captain and mate proved experts at alluring them with
baited hooks, and dexterous at piercing them with a five-
pronged instrument, generally called by seamen " grain."
If hooked, the Dolphin flounces desperately, glides off
with all its natural swiftness, rises perpendicularly out of
the water several feet, and often shakes off the hook and
escapes; if, however, he is well hooked, he is played about
for a while, soon exhausted, and hauled into the ship.
Their flesh is firm, dry, yet quite acceptable at sea.
They differ much in their sizes, being, according to age,
smaller or larger; I saw some four and a half feet long,
but a fair average is three feet. The paunch of all we
caught contained more or less small fishes of different
varieties, amongst which the flying-fish is most prevalent.
Dolphins move in companies of from four or five to
twenty or more. They chase the flying-fish, that with
astonishing rapidity, after having escaped their sharp
pursuer a while in the water, emerge, and go through
the air with the swiftness of an arrow, sometimes in a
straight course, sometimes forming part of a circle; yet
frequently the whole is unavailing, for the Dolphin bounds
from the sea in leaps of fifteen or twenty feet, and so
moves rapidly towards his prey, and the little fish falls, to
be swallowed by his antagonist. You must not suppose,

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 83

however, that the Dolphin moves through the seas without
risk or danger; he, as well as others has vigilant and
powerful enemies. One is the Barracouta, in shape much
like a Pike, growing sometimes to a large size ; one of
these cut off upwards of a foot of a Dolphin's tail, as if done
with an axe, as the Dolphin made for a baited hook; and I
may say we about divided the bounty. There is a degree
of sympathy existing between Dolphins quite remarkable;
the moment one of them is hooked or grained, all those in
company immediately make towards him, and remain close
to him till the unfortunate is hauled on board, then they
move off and will rarely bite. The skin of the fish is a tis-
sue of small scales, softer in their substance than is generally
the case in scaley fishes of such size; the skin is tough.

We also caught a Porpoise about seven feet in length.
This was accomplished during the night, when the moon
gave me a full view of all that happened. The fish, con-
trary to custom, was grained instead of harpooned, but
grained in such a way and so effectually, through the fore-
head, that it was then held and suffered to flounce and
beat about the bow of the ship, until the man who had first
speared it gave the line holding the grain to our captain,
slid along the bobstay with a rope, then, after some little
time and perhaps some difficulty, the fish was secured im-
mediately about its tail, and hoisted with that part up-
wards. Arrived at the deck it gave a deep groan, much
like the last from a dying hog, flapped heavily once or
twice, and died. I had never before examined one of
these closely, and the duck-bill-like snout, and the curious
disposition of the tail, with the body, were new and interest-
ing matters of observation to me. The large, sleek, black
body, the quantity of warm, black blood issuing from
the wound, the blowing apertures placed over the fore-
head, — all attracted my attention. I requested it might
be untouched till the next morning, and my wish was
granted. On opening it the intestines were still warm

84 AUDUBON

(say eight hours after death), and resembled very much
those of a hog. The paunch contained several cuttle-fish
partly decayed. The flesh was removed from the skeleton
and left the central bone supported on its sides by two
horizontal, and one perpendicular bone, giving it the ap-
pearance of a four-edged cutting instrument; the lower
jaw, or as I would prefer writing it, mandible, exceeds the
upper about three-fourths of an inch. Both were furnished
with single rows of divided conical teeth, about one-half
an inch in length, so parted as to admit those of the upper
jaw between each of those of the lower. The fish might
weigh about two hundred pounds. The eyes were small
in proportion to the size of the animal, and having a breath-
ing aperture above, of course it had no gills. Porpoises
move in large companies, and generally during spring and
early summer go in pairs. I have seen a parcel of them
leap perpendicularly about twenty feet, and fall with a
heavy dash in the sea. Our captain told us that there
were instances when small boats had been sunk by one of
these heavy fish falling into them. Whilst I am engaged
with the finny tribe (of which, however, I know little or
nothing), I may as well tell you that one morning when
moving gently, two miles per hour, the captain called me
to show me some pretty little fishes just caught from the
cabin window. These measured about three inches, were
broad, and moved very quickly through the water. We
had pin-hooks, and with these, in about two hours,
three hundred and seventy were caught ; they were sweet
and good as food. They are known ordinarily as Rudder-
fish, and always keep on the lee side of the rudder, as it
affords them a strong eddy to support them, and enable
them to follow the vessel in that situation ; when calm they
disperse about the bow and sides, and then will not bite.
The least breeze brings them all astern again in a compact
body, when they seize the baited hook the moment it
reaches the water.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 85

We have also caught two Sharks, one a female about
seven feet long, that had ten young, alive, and able to
swim well ; one of them was thrown overboard and made
off as if well accustomed to take care of himself. Another
was cut in two, and the head half swam off out of our
sight. The remainder, as well as the parent, were cut in
pieces for bait for Dolphins, which arc extremely partial to
that meat. The weather being calm and pleasant, I felt
desirous to have a view of the ship from a distance and
Captain Hatch politely took me in the yawl and had it
rowed all round the " Delos." This was a sight I had not
enjoyed for twenty years, and I was much pleased with it ;
afterwards having occasion to go out to try the bearings of
the current, I again accompanied him, and bathed in the
sea, not however without some fears as to Sharks. To try
the bearings of the current we took an iron pot fastened
to a line of one hundred and twenty fathoms, and made a
log-board out of a barrel's head leaded on one side to make
it sink perpendicularly on its edge, and tried the velocity
of the current with it fixed to a line by the help of a second
glass} whilst our iron pot acted as an anchor.

Let me change my theme, and speak of birds awhile.
Mother Carey's Chickens {Proccllaria) came about us,
and I longed to have at least one in my possession. I had
watched their evolutions, their gentle patting of the sea
when on the wing, with the legs hanging and the web
extended, seen them take large and long ranges in search
of food, and return for bits of fat thrown overboard for
them, I had often looked at different figures given by
scientific men ; but all this could not diminish for a moment
the long-wished for pleasure of possessing one in the flesh.
I fired, and dropped the first one that came alongside, and
the captain most courteously sent for it with the yawl.
I made two drawings of it; it proved to be a female with
eggs, numerous, but not larger than grains of fine powder,
1 This sounds involved, but is copied verbatim.

86 AUDUBON

inducing me to think that these birds must either breed
earher, or much later, than any in our southern latitude.
I should be inclined to think that the specimen I inspected
had not laid this season, though I am well satisfied that it
was an old bird. During many succeeding weeks I dis-
covered that numbers flew mated side by side, and occa-
sionally, particularly on calm, pleasant days caressed each
other as Ducks are known to do.

May 27, 182G. Five days ago we saw a small vessel
with all sails set coming toward us ; we were becalmed and
the unknown had a light breeze. It approached gradually;
suspicions were entertained that it might be a pirate, as
we had heard that same day reports, which came undoubt-
edly from cannon, and from the very direction from wliich
this vessel was coming. We were well manned, toler-
ably armed, and were all bent on resistance, knowing
well that these gentry gave no quarter, to purses at least,
and more or less uneasiness was perceptible on every face.
Night arrived, a squally breeze struck us, and off we
moved, and lost sight of the pursuing vessel in a short
time. The next day a brig that had been in our wake
came near us, was hailed, and found to be the " Gleaner,"
of Portland, commanded by an acquaintance of our com-
mander, and bound also to Liverpool. This vessel had
left New Orleans five days before us. We kept close
together, and the next day Captain Hatch and myself
boarded her, and were kindly received ; after a short stay
her captain, named Jefferson, came with us and remained
the day. I opened my drawings and showed a few of
them. Mr. Swift was anxious to see some, and I wanted
to examine in what state they kept, and the weather being
dry and clear I feared nothing. It was agreed the vessels
should keep company until through the Gulf Stream, for
security against pirates. So fine has the weather been
so far, that all belonging to the cabin have constantly
slept on deck; an awning has been extended to protect

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 8/

from the sun by day and the dampness by night. When
full a hundred leagues at sea, a female Rice Bunting came
on board, and remained with us one night, and part of a
day. A Warbler also came, but remained only a few
minutes, and then made for the land we had left. It
moved while on board with great activity and sprightli-
ness ; the Bunting, on the contrary, was exhausted, panted,
and I have no doubt died of inanition.

Many Sooty Terns were in sight during several days.
I saw one Frigate Pelican high in air, and could only judge
it to be such through the help of a telescope. Flocks of
unknown birds were also about the ship during a whole
day. They swam well, and preferred the water to the
air. They resembled large Phalaropes, but I could not
be certain. A small Alligator, that I had purchased for
a dollar in New Orleans, died at the end of nine days,
through my want of knowledge, or thought, that salt
matter was poisonous to him. In two days he swelled to
nearly double his natural size, breathed hard, and, as I
have said, died.

In latitude 24°, 27', a Green Heron came on board, and
remained until, becoming frightened, it flew towards the
brig "Gleaner;" it did not appear in the least fatigued.
The captain of the brig told me that on a former voyage
from Europe to New Orleans, when about fifty leagues
from the Balize, a fully grown Whooping Crane came on
board his vessel during the night, passing over the length
of his deck, close over his head, over the helmsman, and
fell in the yawl ; the next morning the bird was found
there completely exhausted, when every one on board
supposed it had passed on. A cage was made for it, but
it refused food, lingered a few days, and then died. It
was plucked and found free from any wound, and in good
condition; a very singular case in birds of the kind, that
are inured to extensive journeys, and, of course liable to
spend much time without the assistance of food.

88 AUDUBON

June 4- ^^ ^^^ ^ f'S^v miles south of the Line, for
the second time in my life. Since I wrote last we have
parted from our companion the " Gleaner," and are yet
in the Gulf of Mexico. I have been at sea three Sundays,
and yet we have not made the shores of Cuba. Since
my last date I have seen a large Sword-fish, but only saw
it, two Gannets, caught a live Warbler, and killed a
Great-footed Hawk. This bird, after having alighted sev-
eral times on our yards, made a dash at a Warbler which
was feeding on the flies about the vessel, seized it, and
ate it in our sight, on the wingy much like a Mississippi
Kite devouring the Red-throated Lizards. The warbler
we caught was a nondescript, which I named " The Cape
Florida Songster." Wc also saw two Frigate Pelicans at a
great height, and a large species of Petrel, entirely un-
known to me. I have read Byron's " Corsair " with much
enjoyment.

Jnne 17. A brig bound to Boston, called the " An-
dromache," came alongside, and my heart rejoiced at
the idea that letters could be carried by her to America.
I set to, and wrote to my wife and to Nicholas Bcrthoud.
A sudden squall separated us till quite late, but we boarded
her, I going with the captain ; the sea ran high, and the
tossing of our light yawl was extremely disagreeable to
my feelings. The brig was loaded with cotton, extremely
filthy, and I was glad to discover that with all onr dis-
agreeables we were comparatively comfortable on the
" Dclos." We have been in sight of Cuba four days; the
heat excessive. I saw three beautiful White-headed
Pigeons, or Doves, flying about our ship, but after sev-
eral rounds they shaped their course towards the Floridas
and disappeared. The Dolphins we catch here are said
to be poisonous ; to ascertain whether they are or not, a
piece of fish is boiled with a silver dollar till quite cooked,
when if the coin is not tarnished or green, the fish is safe
eating. I find bathing in the sea water extremely refresh-

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 89

ing, and enjoy this luxury every night and morning.
Several vessels are in sight.

yinie 26. We have been becalmed many days, and
I should be dull indeed were it not for the fishes and
birds, and my pen and pencil. I have been much in-
terested in the Dusky Petrels ; the mate killed four at
one shot, so plentiful were they about our vessel, and
I have made several drawings from these, which were
brought on board for that purpose. They skim over the
sea in search of what is here called Gulf Weed, of which
there are large patches, perhaps half an acre in extent.
They flap the wings six or seven times, then soar for
three or four seconds, the tail spread, the wings extended.
Four or five of these birds, indeed sometimes as many as
fifteen or twenty, will alight on this weed, dive, flutter, and
swim with all the gayety of ducks on a pond, which they
have reached after a weary journey. I heard no note
from any of them. No sooner have the Petrels eaten or
dispersed the fish than they rise and extend their wings
for flight, in search of more. At times, probably to rest
themselves, they alighted, swam lightly, dipping their bills
frequently in the water as Mergansers and fishy Ducks do
when trying, by tasting, if the water contains much fish.
On inspection of the body, I found the wings powerfully
muscular and strong for the size of the bird, a natural
requisite for individuals that have such an extent of water
to traverse, and frequently heavy squalls to encounter
and fight against. The stomach, or pouch, resembled a
leather purse of four inches in length and was much dis-
tended by the contents, which were a compound of fishes
of different kinds, some almost entire, others more or less
digested. The gullet was capable of great extension.
Fishes two and a half inches by one inch were found
nearly fresh. The flesh of these Petrels smelt strong, and
was tough and not fit to eat. I tasted some, and found
it to resemble the flesh of the Porpoise. There was no

90 AUDUBON

difference in the sexes, either in size or color; they are
sooty black above, and snowy white below. The exact
measurements are in my memorandum-book.

June 20. This morning we came up with the ship
"Thalia," of Philadelphia, Captain John R. Butler, from
Havana to Minorca up the Mediterranean, with many
passengers, Spaniards, on board. The captain very
politely offered us some fruit, which was gladly accepted,
and in return we sent them a large Dolphin, they having
caught none. I sent a Petrel, stuffed some days previ-
ously, as the captain asked for it for the Philadelphia
Society of Sciences.

jfune 30. Whilst sailing under a gentle breeze last
night, the bird commonly called by seamen "Noddy"
alighted on the boom of the vessel, and was very soon
caught by the mate. It then uttered a rough cry, not
unlike that of a young crow when taken from the nest.
It bit severely and with quickly renewed movement of
the bill, which, when it missed the object in view, snapped
like that of our larger Flycatchers. I found it one of the
same species that hovered over the seaweeds in company
with the large Petrel. Having kept it alive during the
night, when I took it in hand to draw it it was dull look-
ing and silent. I know nothing of this bird more than
what our sailors say, that it is a Noddy, and that they
often alight on vessels in this latitude, particularly in the
neighborhood of the Florida Keys. The bird was in
beautiful plumage, but poor. The gullet was capable of
great extension, the paunch was empty, the heart large for
the bird, and the liver uncommonly so.

A short time before the capture of the above bird, a
vessel of war, a ship that we all supposed to be a South
American Republican, or Columbian, came between us
and the " Thalia," then distant from us about one and a
half miles astern, fired a gun, and detained her for some
time, the reason probably being that the passengers were

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 9I

Spaniards, and the cargo Spanish property ; however, this
morning both vessels were in view making different routes.
The man-of-war deigned not to come to us, and none of
us were much vexed at this mark of inattention. This
day has been calm ; my drawing finished, I caught four
Dolphins ; how much I have gazed at these beautiful creat-
ures, watching their last moments of life, as they changed
their hue in twenty varieties of richest arrangement of tints,
from burnished gold to silver bright, mixed with touches
of ultramarine, rose, green, bronze, royal purple, quiver-
ing to death on our hard, broiling deck. As I stood and
watched them, I longed to restore them to their native
element in all their original strength and vitality, and yet
I felt but a few moments before a peculiar sense of pleas-
ure in catching them with a hook to which they were
allured by false pretences.

We have at last entered the Atlantic Ocean this morn-
ing and with a propitious breeze ; the land birds have left
us, and I — I leave my beloved America, my wife, my
children, my friends. The purpose of this voyage is to
visit not only England, but the continent of Europe, with
the intention of publishing my work on the " Birds of
America." If not sadly disappointed my return to these
shores, these happy shores, will be the brightest day I
have ever enjoyed. Oh ! wife, children, friends, America,
farewell ! farewell !

July 9. At sea. My leaving America had for some
time the feelings of a dream ; I could scarce make up
my mind fixedly on the subject. I thought continually
I still saw my beloved friends, and my dear wife and chil-
dren. I still felt every morning when I awoke that the land
of America was beneath me, and that I would in a short
time throw myself on the ground in her shady woods,
and watch for, and listen to the many lovely warblers.
But now that I have positively been at sea since fifty-one
days, tossing to and fro, without the sight or the touch of

92 AUDUBON

those dear to me, I feel fully convinced, and look forward
with an anxiety such as I never felt before, when I
calculate that not less than four months, the third of a
year, must elapse before my wife and children can receive
any tidings of my arrival on the distant shores to which I
am bound. When I think that many more months must
run from the Life's sand-glass allotted to my existence
before I can think of returning, and that my re-union with
my friends and country is yet an unfolded and unknown
event, I am filled with sudden apprehensions which I can-
not describe nor dispel.

Our fourth of July was passed near the Grand Banks,
and how differently from any that I can recollect. The
weather was thick, foggy, and as dull as m}-sclf; not a
sound of rejoicing reached my ears, not once did I hear
"Hail Columbia! Happy land." My companion pas-
sengers lay about the deck and on the cotton-bales, bask-
ing like Crocodiles, while the sun occasionally peeped
out of the smoky haze that surrounded us; yet the breeze
was strong, the waves moved majestically, and thousands
of large Petrels displayed their elegant, aerial movements.
How much I envied their power of flight to enable me to
be here, there, and all over the globe comparatively speak-
ing, in a few moments, throwing themselves edgeways
against the breeze, as if a well sharpened arrow shot with
the strength and grace of one sprung from the bow of an
Apollo. I had remarked a regular increase in the number
of these Petrels ever since the capes of Florida were
passed ; but here they were so numerous, and for part of
a day flew in such succession towards the west and
southwest, that I concluded they were migrating to some
well known shore to deposit their eggs, or perhaps leading
their young. These very seldom alighted; they were full
the size of a common gull, and as they flew they showed
in quick alternations the whole upper and under part of
their bodies, sometimes skimming low, sometimes taking

THE EUROPEAN JOURXALS 93

immense curves, then dashing along the deep trough of
the sea, going round our vessel (always out of gun-reach)
as if she had been at anchor. Their lower parts are
w^iite, the head all white, and the upper part of the body
and wings above sooty brown. I would imagine that one
of these Petrels flies over as much distance in one hour, as
one of the little black Petrels in our wake does in twelve.
Since we have left the neighborhood of the Banks, these
birds have gradually disappeared, and now in latitude 44°,
53' I see none. Our captain and sailors speak of them
as companions in storms, as much as their little relations
Mother Carey's chickens.

As suddenly as if we had just turned the summit of a
mountain dividing a country south of the equator from
Iceland, the weather altered in the present latitude and
longitude. My light summer clothing was not sufficient,
and the dews that fell at night rendered the deck, where I
always slept, too damp to be comfortable. This, however,
of two evils I preferred, for I could not endure the more
disagreeable odors of the cabin, where now the captain,
officers, and Mr. Swift, eat their meals daily. The length
of the days has increased astonishingly; at nine o'clock

1 can easily read large print. Dawn comes shortly after

2 A. M., and a long day is before us.

At Sea— July y 1826. We had several days a stiff
breeze that wafted us over the deep fully nine miles an
hour. This was congenial to my wishes, but not to my
feelings. The motion of the vessel caused violent head-
aches, far more distressing than any seasickness I had ever
experienced. Now, for the third or fourth time, I read
Thomson's " Seasons," and I believe enjoyed them better
than ever.

Among our live stock on board, we had a large hen.
This bird was very tame and quite familiar with the ins
and outs of the vessel, and was allowed all the privileges
of the deck. She had been hatched on board, and our

94 AUDUBON

cook, who claimed her as his property, was much attached
to her, as was also the mate. One morning she im-
prudently flew ov^erboard, while we were running three
miles an hour. The yawl was immediately lowered, four
men rowed her swiftly towards the floating bird that
anxiously looked at her place of abode gliding from her;
she was picked up, and her return on board seemed to
please every one, and I was gratified to see such kind
treatment to a bird ; it assured me, had I needed that
assurance, that the love of animals develops the better
side of all natures. Our hen, however, ended her life most
distressingly not long after this narrow escape ; she again
flew over the side, and the ship moving at nine knots,
the sea very high and rough, the weather rainy and
squally, the captain thought it imprudent to risk the men
for the fowl ; so, notwithstanding the pleadings of the cook,
we lost sight of the adventurous bird in a few moments.
We have our long boat as usual lashed to the deck; but
instead of being filled with lumber as is usually the case, it
now contained three passengers, all bound to Europe to
visit friends, with the intention of returning to America in
the autumn. One has a number of books which he
politely ofifcrcd me ; he plays most sweetly on the flute,
and is a man superior to his apparent situation. We have
a tailor also ; this personage is called a deck hand, but
the fact is, that two thirds of his time is spent sleeping on
the windlass. This man, however, like all others in the
world, is useful in his way. He works whenever called
on, and will most cheerfully put a button or a patch on
any one's clothing; his name is Crow, and during the entire
voyage, thus far, he has lived solely on biscuit and raw
bacon. We now see no fish except now and then a shoal
of porpoises. I frequently long for the beautiful Dolphins
in the Gulf of Mexico; Whales have been seen by the
sailors, but not by me. During this tedious voyage I
frequently sit and watch our captain at his w^ork; I do

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 95

not remember ever to have seen a man more industrious
or more apt at doing nearly everything he needs himself.
He is a skilful carpenter and turner, cooper, tin and black
smith, and an excellent tailor; I saw him making a pair
of pantaloons of fine cloth with all the neatness that a city
brother of the cross-legged faculty could have used. He
made a handsome patent swift for his wife, and a beautiful
plane for his own use, manufactured out of a piece of beech-
wood that probably grew on the banks of the Ohio, as I
perceived it had been part of a flat-boat, and brought on
board to be used for fuel. He can plait straw in all
sorts of ways, and make excellent bearded fishhooks out of
common needles. He is an excellent sailor, and the more
stormy it becomes, the gayer he is, even when drenched to
the skin. I was desirous of understanding the means of
ascertaining the latitude on land, and also to find the
true rising of the sun whilst travelling in the uninhabited
parts of America; this he showed me with pleasure, and I
calculated our latitude and longitude from this time,
though not usually fond of mathematics. To keep busy
I go often about the deck pencil in hand, sketching the
different attitudes of the sailors, and many a laugh is
caused by these rough drawings. Both the mates have
shown a kindness towards me that I cannot forget. The
first mate is S. L. Bragdon from Wells, the second Wm.
Hobart from Kennebunk.

To-day we came in with a new set and species of Petrels,
resembling those in the Gulf of Mexico, but considerably
larger; between fifty and sixty were at one time close to
the vessel, catching small fish that we guessed to be her-
rings; the birds swam swiftly over the water, their wings
raised, and now and then diving and dipping after the
small fry; they flew heavily, and with apparent reluctance,
and alighted as soon as we passed them. I was satisfied
that several in our wake had followed us from the Gulf of
Mexico ; the sudden change in the weather must have
been seriously felt by them.

g6 AUDUBON

July 12. I had a beautiful view of a Whale about five
hundred yards from the vessel when we first perceived it;
the water thrown from his spiracles had the appearance of
a small, thick cloud, twelve or fourteen feet wide. Never
have I felt the weather so cold in July. \Vc are well
wrapped up, and yet feel chilly in the drizzling rain.

July 16. Yesterday-night ended the ninth Sunday
passed at sea; the weather continues cold, but the wind is
propitious. We are approaching land, and indeed I
thought I smelt the " land smell." We have had many
Whales near us during the day, and an immense number of
Porpoises ; our captain, who prefers their flesh to the best
of veal, beef, or mutton, said he would give five dollars for
one ; but our harpoon is broken, and although several
handles were fastened for a while to the grain, the weapon
proved too light, and the fish invariably made their escape
after a few bounces, probably to go and die in misery.
European Hawks were seen, and two Curlews; these
gave me hope that we might see the long desired land
shortly.

July IS, 1836. The sun is shining clear over Ireland ;
that land was seen at three o'clock this morning by the
man at the helm, and the mate, with a stentorian voice,
announced the news. As we approached the coast a
small boat ncared us, and came close under our lee; the
boat looked somewhat like those employed in bringing in
heavy loads to New Orleans, but her sails were more
tattered, her men more fair in complexion. They hailed
us and offered for sale fresh fish, new potatoes, fresh eggs.
All were acceptable, I assure thee. They threw a light
line to us most dexterously. Fish, potatoes, and eggs were
passed to us, in exchange for whiskey, salt pork, and to-
bacco, which were, I trust, as acceptable to them as their
wares were to us. I thought the exchange a fair one, but
no ! — they called for rum, brandy, whiskey, more of every-
thing. Their expressions struck me with wonder ; it was

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 97

" Here 's to your Honor," — " Long life to your Honor,"
— "God bless your Honor," — Honors followed with
such rapidity that I turned away in disgust. The breeze
freshened and we proceeded fast on our way. Perhaps
to-morrow may see me safe on land again — perhaps to-
morrow may see us all stranded, perishing where the
beautiful " Albion " went ashore.

St. George's Cluninel, Thursday, July 20. lam approach-
ing very fast the shores of England, indeed Wales is
abreast of our ship, and we can plainly distinguish the
hedges that divide the fields of grain ; but what nakedness
the country exhibits, scarce a patch of timber to be seen ;
our fine forests of pine, of oak, of heavy walnut-trees, of
magnificent magnolias, of hickories or ash or maple, are
represented here by a diminutive growth called " furze."
But I must not criticise so soon ! I have not seen the
country, I have not visited any of the historic castles, or
the renowned parks, for never have I been in England nor
Scotland, that land made famous by the entrancing works
of Walter Scott. We passed yesterday morning the
Tuskar, a handsome light on a bare rock. This morning
we saw Holyhead, and we are now not more than twenty-
five miles from Liverpool; but I feel no pleasure, and
were it not for the sake of my Lucy and my children, I
would readily embark to-morrow to return to America's
shores and all they hold for me. . . . The pilot boat that
came to us this morning contained several men all dressed
in blue, with overcoats of oiled linen, — all good, hearty,
healthy-looking men. ... I have been on deck, and from
the bow the land of England is plainly distinguishable ;
the sight around us is a beautiful one, I have counted
fifty-six vessels with spreading sails, and on our right are
mountains fading into the horizon; my dull thoughts
have all abandoned me, I am elated, my heart is filled
with hope. To-morrow we shall land at the city of Liver-
pool, but when I think of Custom House officials, accep-

VOL. I. — 7

98 AUDUBON

tancy of Bills, hunting up lodgings, — again my heart fails
me; I must on deck,

Mersey River opposite Liverpool, 9.30 P.M. The night
is cloudy, and we are at anchor ! The lights of the city
show brightly, for we arc not more than two hundred
yards distant from them.

Liverpool, July 21. This morning when I landed it
was raining, yet the appearance of the city was agree-
able ; but no sooner had I entered it than the smoke
became so oppressive to my lungs that I could hardly
breathe ; it affected my eyes also. All was new to me.
After a breakfast at an inn with Mr. Swift for 26, we went
to the Exchange Buildings, to the counting-house of Gor-
don and Forstall, as I was anxious to deliver my letters
to Mr. Gordon from Mr. Briggs. I also presented during
the morning my bill of exchange. The rest of the day
was spent in going to the Museum, gazing about, and
clearing my brains as much as possible ; but how lonely I
feel, — not a soul to speak to freely when Mr. Swift leaves
me for Ireland. We took lodgings at the Commercial Inn
not far from the Exchange Buildings; we are well fed, and
well attended to, although, to my surprise, altogether by
women, neatly dressed and modest. I found the persons
of whom I enquired for different directions, remarkably
kind and polite ; I had been told this would not be the
case, but I have met with only real politeness from all.

Liverpool, July 22. The Lark that sings so sweetly,
and that now awakened me from happy dreams, is nearly
opposite my table, prisoner in a cage hanging by a win-
dow where from time to time a young person comes to
look on the world below ; I think of the world of the
West and — but the Lark, delightful creature, sings sweetly,
yet in a cage !

The Custom House suddenly entered my head, and
after considerable delay there, my drawings went through
a regular, strict, and complete examination. The officers

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 99

were all of opinion that they were free of duty, but the
law was looked at and I was obliged to pay two pence on
each drawing, as they were water-colored. My books
being American, I paid four "pence, per pound, and when all
was settled, I took my baggage and drawings, and went
to my lodgings. The noise of pattens on the sidewalk
startles me very frequently; if the sound is behind me I
often turn my head expecting to see a horse, but instead
I observe a neat, plump-looking maid, tripping as briskly
as a Killdeer. I received a polite note from Mr. Rath-
bone ^ this morning, inviting me to dine next Wednesday
with him and Mr. Roscoc.^ I shall not forget the appoint-
ment.

Sunday, Jidy 23. Being Sunday I must expect a
long and lonely day; I woke at dawn and lay for a few
moments only, listening to the sweet-voiced Lark ; the day
was beautiful; thermometer in the sun 65°, in the shade
41° ; I might say 40°, but I love odd numbers, — it is a fool-
ish superstition with me. I spent my forenoon with Mr.
Swift and a friend of his, Mr. R. Lyons, who was after-
wards kind enough to introduce us to the Commercial
Reading Room at the Exchange Buildings. In the after-
noon we went across the Mersey. The country is some-
what dull; we returned to supper, sat chatting in the coffee
room, and the day ended.

July 24, Monday. As early as I thought proper I

1 Mr. Wm. Rathbone, of the firm of Rathbone Bros. & Co., to whom
Audubon had a letter from Mr. Vincent Nolte. To Messrs. Wm. and
Richard Rathbone, and their father Wm. Rathbone, Sr., Audubon was more
deeply indebted than to any other of his many kind friends in England.
Their hospitality was only equalled by their constant and valuable assist-
ance in preparing for the publication of the " Birds," and when this was an
assured fact, they were unresting in their efforts to aid Audubon in pro-
curing subscribers. It is with pleasure that Audubon's descendants to-day
acknowledge this indebtedness to the "family Rathbone," which is ever
held in grateful remembrance.

2 William Roscoe, historical, botanical, and miscellaneous writer, 1753-
iS^ii.

lOO AUDUBON

turned my steps to No. 87 Duke Street, where the poHte
English gentleman, Mr. Richard Rathbone,^ resides. My
locks blew freely from under my hat in the breeze, and
nearly every lady I met looked at them with curiosity.
Mr. Rathbone was not in, but was at his counting-house,
where I soon found myself. A full dozen of clerks were
at their separate desks, work was going on apace, letters
were being thrown into an immense bag belonging to a
packet that sailed this day for the shores where I hope my
Lucy is happy — dearest friend ! My name was taken
to the special room of Mr. Rathbone, and in a moment I
was met by one who acted towards me as a brother. He
did not give his card to poor Audubon, he gave his hand,
and a most cordial invitation to be at his house at two
o'clock, which hour found me there. I was ushered into a
handsome dining-room, and Mr. Rathbone almost imme-
diately entered the same, with a most hearty greeting.
I dined with this hospitable man, his charming wife and
children, Mrs. Rathbone is not only an amiable woman,

1 In a charming letter written to me by Mr. Richard R. Rathbone, son of
this gentleman, dated Glan y Menai, Anglesey, May 14, 1897, he says:
"To us there was a halo of romance about Mr. Audubon, artist, naturalist,
quondam backwoodsman, and the author of that splendid work which I used
to see on a table constructed to hold the copy belonging to my Uncle
William, opening with hinges so as to raise the bird portraits as if on a
desk. Hut still more I remember his amiable character, though tinged with
melancholy by past sufferings ; and his beautiful, expressive face, kept alive
in my memory by his autograph crayon sketch thereof, in profile, with the
words written at foot, ' Audubon at Green Bank. Almost happy, 9th Sep-
tember, 1826.' Mr. Audubon painted for my father, as a gift, an Otter (in
oils) caught by the fore-foot in a steel trap, and after vainly gnawing at
the foot to release himself, throwing up his head, probably with a yell of
agony, and displaying his wide-open jaws dripping with blood. This pic-
ture hung on our walls for years, until my mother could no longer bear the
horror of it, and persuaded my father to part with it. We also had a full-
length, life-sized portrait of the American Turkey, striding through the
forest. Both pictures went to a public collection in Liverpool. I have also
a colored sketch by Mr. Audubon of a Robin Redbreast, shot by him at
Green Bank, which I saw him pin with long pins into a bit of board to fix
it into position for the instruction of my mother."

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS lOI

but a most intelligent and highly educated one. Mr.
Rathbone took me to the Exchange Buildings in order to
see the American consul, Mr. Maury, and others. Intro-
duction followed introduction ; then I was taken through
the entire building, the mayor's public dining-hall, etc.
I gazed on pictures of royalty by Sir Thomas Lawrence
and others, mounted to the dome and looked over Liver-
pool and the harbor that Nature formed for her. It was
past five when I went to keep my appointment with Mr.
Swift.

July 25. The day has passed quickly. In the morn-
ing I made a crayon portrait of Mr. Swift — or rather
began it — for his father, then took a walk, and on my
return found a note from Mr. Richard Rathbone awaiting
me. He desired me to come at once with one of my
portfolios to Duke Street. I immediately took a hackney
coach and found Mr. and Mrs. Rathbone with Mr. James
Pyke awaiting me, to take me to the home of Mr. Rath-
bone, Sr., who lives some miles out of Liverpool.^ Their
youngest boy, Basil, a sweet child, took a fancy to me and
I to him, and we made friends during our drive. The
country opened gradually to our view, and presently pass-
ing up an avenue of trees we entered the abode of the
venerable pair, and I was heartily made welcome. I felt
painfully awkward, as I always do in new company, but
so much kindness and simplicity soon made me more at
ease. I saw as I entered the house a full and beautiful
collection of the birds of England, well prepared and
arranged. What sensations I had whilst I helped to untie
the fastenings of my portfolio ! I knew by all around me
that these good friends were possessed of both taste' and
judgment, and I did not know that I should please. I
was panting like the winged Pheasant, but ah ! these kjnd
people praised my Birds, and I felt the praise to be honest ;
once more I breathed freely. My portfolio thoroughly
1 At Green Bank.

I02 AUDUBON

examined, we returned to Liverpool, and later the Rev,
Wm. Goddard, rector of Liverpool, and several ladies
called on me, and saw some drawings; all praised them.
Oh ! what can I hope, my Lucy, for thee and for us all?

July 26. It is very late, and I am tired, but I will not
omit writing on that account. The morning was beautiful,
but for some reason I was greatly depressed, and it
appeared to me as if I could not go on with the work
before me. However, I recollected that the venerable Mr.
Maury must not be forgotten. I saw him; Mr. Swift left
for Dublin with his crayon portrait ; I called at the post-
office for news from America, but in vain. I wrote for
some time, and then received a call from Mr. Rathbone
with his brother William ; the latter invited me to dine on
Friday at his house, which I promised to do, and this
evening I dined with Mr. Rd. Rathbone. I went at half-
past six, my heart rather failing me, entered the corridor,
my hat was taken, and going upstairs I entered Mr. Rath-
bone's drawing-room. I have frequently thought it strange
that my observatory nerves never give way, no matter how
much I am overcome by viatroaisc kontc, nor did they now.
Many pictures embellished the walls, and helped, with Mr.
Rathbone's lively mien, to remove the misery of the mo-
ment. Mr. Edward Roscoe came in immediately, — tall,
with a good eye under a well marked brow. Dinner
announced, we descended to the room I had entered on my
first acquaintance with this charming home, and I was
conducted to the place of honor. Mr. Roscoe sat next,
Mr. Barclay of London, and Mr. Melly opposite with Consul
Maury; the dinner was enlivened with mirth and boji mots,
and* I found in such good company infinite pleasure.
After we left the table Mrs. Rathbone joined us in the
parlor, and I had now again to show my drawings. Mr.
Roscoe, who had been talking to me about them at dinner,
would not give me any hopes, and I felt unusually gloomy
as one by one I slipped them from their case ; but after

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 103

looking at a few only, the great man said heartily : " Mr.
Audubon, I am filled with surprise and admiration." On
bidding me adieu he invited me to dine with him to-mor-
row, and to visit the Botanical Gardens. Later Mrs. Rath-
bone showed me some of her drawings, where talent has
put an undeniable stamp on each touch.

July 27 . I reached ]\Ir. Roscoe's place, about one and
a half miles distant from Liverpool, about three o'clock,
and was at once shown into a little drawing-room where all
was nature. Mr. Roscoe was drawing a very handsome
plant most beautifully. The room was ornamented with
many flowers, receiving from his hands the care and treat-
ment they required ; they were principally exotics from
many distant and different climes. His three daughters
were introduced to mc, and we then started for the Gar-
dens. Mr. Roscoe and I rode there in what he called his
little car, drawn by a pony so small that I was amazed to
see it pull us both with apparent ease. Mr. Roscoe is a
coinc-at-able person, who makes me feel at home immedi-
ately, and we have much in common. I was shown the
whole of the Gardens, which with the hot-house were in
fine order. The ground is level, well laid out, and beauti-
fully kept ; but the season was, so Mr. Roscoe said, a little
advanced for me to see the place to the best advantage.
On our return to the charming laboratoire of Mr. Roscoe
the large portfolio is again in sight. I will not weary you
with the details of this. One of the daughters draws well,
and I saw her look closely at me very often, and she finally
made known her wish to take a sketch of my head, to
which I gave reluctant consent for some future time. Mr.
Roscoe is very anxious I should do well, and says he will
try to introduce me to Lord Stanley, and assured me noth-
ing should be left undone to meet my wishes ; he told me
that the honorable gentleman "is rather shy." It was nine
o'clock when I said good-night, leaving my drawings with
him at his request. On my return to Dale Street I found

104 AUDUBON

the following note : " Mr. Martin, of the Royal Institution
of Liverpool, will do himself the pleasure to wait upon Mr.
Ambro to-morrow at eleven o'clock." Why do people
make such errors with my simple name?

July 28. A full grown man with a scarlet vest and
breeches, black stockings and shoes for the coloring of his
front, and a long blue coat covering his shoulders and back
reminds me somewhat of our summer red bird (^Tanagra
rubra). Both man and bird attract the eye, but the scien-
tific appellation of the man is unknown to me. At eleven
Mr. Martin (who I expect is secretary to the Royal Insti-
tution) called, and arranged with me a notice to the mem-
bers of the Institution, announcing that I would exhibit
my drawings for two hours on the mornings of Monday,
Tuesday, and Wednesday following, at the Institution.
Later, feeling lonely and sad, I called on Mrs. R. Rathbone,
whom I found putting away in a little box, a dissected
map, with which, Edgcivorth-likCy she had been transmit-
ting knowledge with pleasure. She is so truly delightful a
companion that had it been possible I should have made
my call long instead of short, but I walked home by a
roundabout way, and found a note from Mr. Wm. Rath-
bone reminding me of my promise to dine with him, and
adding that he wished me to meet a brother-in-law of his
from London who may be of use to me, so will I bring a
few drawings? At the hour named I found myself in
Abercrombie Street and in the parlor with two little
daughters of my host, the elder about thirteen, extremely
handsome. Mrs. Rathbone soon entered and greeted me
as if she had known me all my life ; her husband followed,
and the guests, all gentlemen, collected. Mr. Hodgson,
to whom I had a letter from Mr. Nolte^ was particularly
kind to me, but every one seemed desirous I should suc-
ceed in England. A Swiss gentleman urged me not to
waste time here, but proceed at once to Paris, but he was

^ Vincent Nolle, bom at Leghorn, 1779, traveller, merchant, adventurer.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 05

not allowed to continue his argument, and at ten I left
with Mr. Pyke for my lodgings.

July 29. To-day I visited Mr. Hunt/ the best landscape
painter of this city. I examined much of his work and
found some beautiful representations of the scenery of
Wales. I went to the Royal Institution to judge of the
light, for naturally I wish my work to have every possible
advantage. I have not found the population of Liverpool
as dense as I expected, and except during the evenings
(that do not at this season commence before eight o'clock)
I have not been at all annoyed by the elbowings of the
crowd, as I remember to have been in my youth, in the
large cities of France. Some shops here are beautifully
supplied, and have many customers. The new market is
in my opinion an object worth the attention of all travel-
ers. It is the finest I have ever seen — it is a large, high
and long building, divided into five spacious avenues, each
containing its specific commodities. I saw here viands of
all descriptions, fish, vegetables, game, fruits, — both in-
digenous and imported from all quarters of the globe, —
bird sellers, with even little collections of stuffed speci-
mens, cheeses of enormous size, butter in great abun-
dance, immense crates of hen's-eggs packed in layers of
oats imported from Ireland, twenty-five for one shilling.
This market is so well lighted with gas that this evening
at ten o'clock I could plainly see the colors of the irids of
living pigeons in cages. The whole city is lighted with
gas ; each shop has many of these illuminating fires, and
fine cambric can be looked at by good judges. Mr, A.
Hodgson called on me, and I am to dine with him on
Monday ; he has written to Lord Stanley about me. He
very kindly asked if my time passed heavily, gave me a
note of admittance for the Athenaeum, and told me he
would do all in his power for me. I dined at the inn to-
day for the second time only since my arrival.
1 William Henry Hunt (1790-1864).

Io6 AUDUBON

July 30. It is Sunday again, but not a dull one; I have
become better acquainted, and do not feel such an utter
stranger. I went to the church of the Asylum for the Blind.
K few steps of cut stone lead to an iron gate, and under a
colonnade; at the inner gate you pay whatever you please
over sixpence. Near the entrance is a large picture of
Christ healing the blind. The general structure is a well
proportioned oblong; ten light columns support the flat
ceiling. A fine organ is placed over the entrance in a
kind of upper lobby, which contains also the musicians,
who are blind. All is silent, and the mind is filled with
heavenly thoughts, when suddenly the sublime music glides
into one's whole being, and the service has begun. No-
where have I ever seen such devotion in a church. In the
afternoon the Rev. Wm. Goddard took me to some institu-
tions for children on the Lancastrian system ; all appeared
well dressed, clean, and contented. I dined with Mr. and
Mrs. Gordon;^ Anne advised me to have my hair cut, and
to buy a fashionable coat.

July 31. This day has been one of trial to me. At
nine of the morning I was quite busy, arranging and dis-
posing in sets my drawings, that they might be inspected
by the public. The doors were thrown open at noon, and
the ladies flocked in. I knew but one, Mrs. Richard
Rathbonc, but I had many glances to meet and questions
to answer. The time passed, however, and at two the
doors were closed. At half-past four I drove with Mr.
Adam Hodgson to his cottage, where I was introduced to
Mrs. Hodgson, a tall young woman with the freshness of
spring, who greeted me most kindly ; there were three
other guests, and we passed a quiet evening after the usual
excellent dinner. Soon after ten we retired to our rooms.

August 1. I arose to listen to the voice of an English
Blackbird just as the day broke. It was a little after
three, I dressed ; and as silently as in my power moved
1 Mrs. Alexander Gordon was Mrs. Audubon's sister Anne.

THE E UROPEA N JO URN A LS I O/

downstairs carrying my boots in my hand, gently opened
the door, and was off to the fields and meadows. I
walked a good deal, went to the seashore, saw a Hare,
and returned to breakfast, after which and many invi-
tations to make my kind hosts frequent visits, I was
driven back to town, and went immediately to the In-
stitution, where I met Dr. TrailP and many other per-
sons of distinction. Several gentlemen attached to the
Institution, wished me to be remunerated for exhibiting
my pictures, but though I am poor enough, God knows,
I do not think I should do that, as the room has been
given to me gratis. Four hundred and thirteen persons
were admitted to see my drawings.

August 2. I put up this day two hundred and twenty-
five of my drawings; the coup d'a'il wdiS not bad, and the
room was crowded. Old Mr. Roscoe did me the honor
to present me to Mr. Jean Sismondi,^ of Geneva. Mr,
and Mrs. Rathbone had gone to their country home,
" Green Bank," but I sent a note telling them how many
pictures I had added to the first day's exhibition. I have
decided to collect what letters I can for London, and go
there as soon as possible. I was introduced to Mr. Booth
of Manchester, who promised me whatever aid he could
in that city. After a call at Mr. Roscoe's, I went, with a
gentleman from Charleston, S. C., to the theatre, as I was
anxious to see the renowned Miss Foote. Miss Foote has
been pretty, nay, handsome, nay, beautiful, but — she has
been. The play was good, the playhouse bad, and the
audience numerous and fashionable.

August 4- I had no time to write yesterday; my morn-
ing was spent at the Institution, the room was again
crowded, I was wearied with bowing to the many to

1 Thomas Stewart Traill, M. D., Scottish naturalist, born in Orkney,
1781 ; edited the eighth edition of the " Enclyclopaedia Britannica," was asso-
ciated with the Royal Institute at Liverpool; he died 1S62.

2 The Swiss historian, born at Geneva, 1773, died 1S42.

Io8 AUDUBON

whom I was introduced. Some one was found copying
one of the pictures, but the doorkeeper, an alert Scotch-
man, saw his attempt, turned him out, and tore his sketch.
Mr. A. Hodgson invited me to dine with Lord Stanley-
to-morrow in company with Mr. VVm. Roscoe, Sr. Mr.
Sismondi gave me a letter to Baron von Humboldt, and
showed me a valuable collection of insects from Thibet,
and after this I took tea with Mr. Roscoe.

This morning I breakfasted with Mr. Hodgson, and met
Mrs. Wm. Rathbone somewhat later at the Institution;
never was a woman better able to please, and more dis-
posed to do so ; a woman possessed of beauty, good sense,
great intelligence, and rare manners, with a candor and
sweetness not to be surpassed. Mr. William Roscoe sent
his carriage for me, and I again went to his house, where
quite a large company had assembled, among others two
botanists who knew every plant and flower, and were most
obliging in giving me much delightful information. Hav-
ing to walk to " Green Bank," the home of Mr. William
Rathbone, Sr., I left Mr. Roscoe's at sunset (which by the
way was beautiful). The evening was calm and lovely,
and I soon reached the avenue of trees leading to the
house I sought. Almost immediately I found myself on
the lawn with a group of archers, and was interested in
the sport; some of the ladies shot very well. Mr. Rath-
bone, Sr., asked me much about Indians, and American
trees, the latter quite unknown here, and as yet I have
seen none larger than the saplings of Louisiana. When
the other guests had left, I was shown the new work on
the Birds of England ; I did not like it as well as I had
hoped ; I much prefer Thomas Bewick. Bewick is the
Wilson of England.

Aiigjist 5. Miss Hannah Rathbone^ drove me into
Liverpool with great speed. Two little Welsh ponies,
well matched, drew us beautifully in a carriage which is

1 Daughter of Mr. William Rathbone, Sr. ; married Dr. William Reynolds.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 109

the young lady's special property. After she left me my
head was full of Lord Stanley. I am a very poor fool, to
be sure, to be troubled at the idea of meeting an English
gentleman, when those I have met have been in kindness,
manners, talents, all I could desire, far more than I ex-
pected. The Misses Roscoe were at the Institution, where
they have been every day since my pictures were ex-
hibited. Mrs. VVm. Rathbone, with her daughter — her
younger self — at her side, was also there, and gave me
a packet of letters from her husband. On opening this
packet later I found the letters were contained in a hand-
some case, suitable for my pocket, and a card from Mr.
Rathbone asking me to use it as a token of his affectionate
regard. In the afternoon I drove with Mr. Hodgson to
his cottage, and while chatting with his amiable wife the
door opened to admit Lord Stanley.^ I have not the least
doubt that if my head had been looked at, it would have
been thought to be the body, globularly closed, of one of
our largest porcupines; all my hair — and I have enough
— stood straight on end, I am sure. He is tall, well
formed, made for activity, simply but well dressed; he
came to me at once, bowing to Mrs. Hodgson as he did
so, and taking my hand in his, said : " Sir, I am glad to
see you." Not the words only, but his manner put me at
once at my ease. My drawings were soon brought out.
Lord Stanley is a great naturalist, and in an instant he was
exclaiming over my work, " Fine ! " " Beautiful ! " and
when I saw him on his knees, having spread my drawings
on the floor, the better to compare them, I forgot he was
Lord Stanley, I knew only he too loved Nature. At
dinner I looked at him closely ; his manner reminded me
of Thomas Sully, his forehead would have suited Dr.

1 Edward, fourteenth Earl of Derby, 1799-1869. Member of Parliament,
Chief Secretary for Ireland, Secretary for the Colonies, First Lord of the
Treasury, and Prime Minister. Translated Homer's Iliad into blank verse.
His was a life of many interests : literature, art, society, public affairs, sport-
manship, and above all " the most perfect orator of his day."

no AUDUBON

Harlan, his brow would have assured that same old friend
of his great mental powers. He cordially invited me to
call on him in Grosvenor Street in town (thus he called
London), shook hands with me again, and mounting a
splendid hunter rode off. I called to thank Mr. Rathbone
for his letters and gift, but did so, I know, most awk-
wardly. Oh ! that I had been flogged out of this miser-
able shyness and viauvaise honte when I was a youth.

August 6, Sunday. When I arrived in this city I felt
dejected, miserably so; the uncertainty as to my recep-
tion, my doubts as to how my work would be received, all
conspired to depress me. Now, how different are my sen-
sations ! I am well received everywhere, my works praised
and admired, and my poor heart is at last relieved from
the great anxiety that has for so many years agitated it,
for I know now that I have not worked in vain. This
morning I went to church ; the sermon was not to my
mind, but the young preacher may improve. This after-
noon I packed up Harlan's "Fauna" for Mr. E. Roscoe,
and went to the Institution, where Mr. Munro was to meet
me and escort me to Mr. Wm. Roscoe, Jr., where I was to
take tea. Mr. Munro was not on hand, so, after a weary
waiting, I went alone to Mr. Roscoe's habitation. It was
full of ladies and gentlemen, all his own family, and I
knew almost every one. I was asked to imitate the calls
of some of the wild birds, and though I did not wish to
do so, consented to satisfy the curiosity of the company.
I sat between Mr. \Vm. Roscoe and his son Edward, and
answered question after question. Finally, the good old
gentleman and I retired to talk about my plans. He
strongly advises me not to exhibit my works without re-
muneration. Later more guests came in, and more ques-
tions were asked ; they appeared surprised that I have no
wonderful tales to tell, that, for instance, I have not been
devoured at least six times by tigers, bears, wolves, foxes;
no, I never was troubled by any larger animals than ticks

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS III

and mosquitoes, and that is quite enough. At last one
after another took leave. The well bred society of England
is the perfection of manners ; such tone of voice I never
heard in America. Indeed, thus far, I have great reason
to like England. My plans now are to go to Manchester,
to Derbyshire to visit Lord Stanley (Earl of Derby),
Birmingham, London for three weeks, Edinburgh, back to
London, and then to France, Paris, Nantes, to see my ven-
erable stepmother, Brussels, and return to England. I am
advised to do this by men of learning and excellent judg-
ment, who say this will enable me to find where my work
may be published with greatest advantage. I have letters
given me to Baron Humboldt, General La Fayette, Sir
Walter Scott, Sir Humphry Davy, Miss Hannah More,
Miss Edgeworth, Sir Thomas Lawrence, etc., etc. How I
wish Victor could be with me; what an opportunity to see
the best of this island; few ordinary individuals ever en-
joyed the same reception. Many persons of distinction
have begged drawing lessons of me at a guinea an hour.
I am astonished at the plainness of the ladies' dress; in
the best society there are no furbelows and fandangoes.

August 7. I am just now from the society of the learned
Dr. Traill, and have greatly enjoyed two hours of his in-
teresting company ; to what perfection men like him can
rise in this island of instruction. I dined at Mr. Edward
Roscoe's, whose wife wished me to draw something for her
while she watched me. I drew a flower for her, and one
for Miss Dale, a fine artist. I am grieved I could not
reach " Green Bank " this evening to enjoy the company
of my good friends, the Rathbones ; they with the Roscoes
and Hodgsons have done more for me in every way than I
can express. I must have walked twenty miles to-day on
these pavements ; that is equal to forty-five in the woods,
where there is so much to see.

Augusts. Although I am extremely fatigued and it is
past midnight, I will write. Mr. Roscoe spoke much of

112 AUDUBON

my exhibiting my drawings for an admission fee, and he,
as well as Dr. Traill and others, have advised me so
strongly to do so that I finally consented, though not quite
agreeable to me, and Mr. Roscoe drew a draft of a notice
to be inserted in the papers, after which we passed some
charming hours together.

August 9. The Committee of the Royal Institution met
to-day and requested me to exhibit my drawings by ticket
of admission. This request must and will, I am sure, take
off any discredit attached to the tormenting feeling of
showing my work for money.

A?igust 10. The morning was beautiful, and I was out
very early; the watchmen have, however, ceased to look
upon mc with suspicion, and think, perhaps, I am a harm-
less lunatic. I walked to the " Mound " and saw the city
and the country bej'ond the Mersey plainly; then I sat on
the grass and watched four truant boys rolling marbles
with great spirit; how much they brought before me my
younger days. I would have liked them still better had
they been clean ; but they were not so, and as I gave
them some money to buy marbles, I recommended that
some of it be spent in soap. I begin to feci most power-
fully the want of occupation at drawing and studying the
habits of the birds that I see about me; and the little Spar-
rows that hop in the streets, although very sooty with coal
smoke, attract my attention greatly ; indeed, I watched
one of them to-day in the dust of the street, with as much
pleasure as in far different places I have watched the play
of finer birds. All this induced me to begin. I bought
water colors and brushes, for which I paid dearer than in
New Orleans. I dined with Mr. Edward Roscoe. As you
go to Park Place the view is extensive up and down the
Mersey; it gives no extraordinary effects, but is a calming
vision of repose to the eyes wearied with the bustle of the
streets. There are plenty of steam vessels, but not to be
compared to those on the Ohio ; these look like smoky,

THE E UR OPE A N JO URN A LS 1 1 3

dirty dungeons. Immediately opposite Mr. Roscoe's dwell-
ing is a pond where I have not yet seen a living thing, not
even a frog. No moccasin nor copper-headed snake is near
its margin ; no snowy Heron, no Rose-colored Ibis ever
is seen here, wild and charming ; no sprightly trout, nor
waiting gar-fish, while above hovers no Vulture watching
for the spoils of the hunt, nor Eagle perched on dreary
cypress in a gloomy silence. No ! I am in England, and I
cannot but long with unutterable longing for America,
charming as England is, and there is nothing in England
more charming than the Roscoe family. Our dinner is
simple, therefore healthful. Two ladies and a gentleman
came in while we were at dessert, and almost as soon as we
left the table tea was announced. It is a singular thing
that in England dinner, dessert, wines, and tea drinking
follow each other so quickly that if we did not remove to
another room to partake of the last, it would be a constant
repast. 1 walked back to Liverpool, and more than once
my eyes were shocked whilst crossing the fields, to see
signs with these words : " Any person trespassing on these
grounds will be prosecuted with the rigor of the law."
This must be a mistake, certainly; this cannot be English
freedom and liberty, surely. Of this I intend to know
more hereafter ; but that I saw these words painted on
boards there is really no doubt.

Sunday, August 13. I am greatl}' disappointed that not
yet have I had letters from home, though several vessels
have arrived ; perhaps to-morrow may bring me what I
long for inexpressibly. This morning I went again to the
church for the blind, and spent the remainder of the day
at my kind friend's, Mr. Wm. Roscoe.

August 14- This day I have passed with the delightful
Rathbone family at Green Bank; I have been drawing for
Mrs. Rathbone,^ and after dinner we went through the

1 Mrs. Wm. Rathbone, Sr., whom Audubon often calls " Lady Rathbone,"
and also "The Queen Bee."
VOL. I. — 8

114 AUDUBON

greenhouse d^nd j'ardin potager. How charming is Green
Bank and the true hospitahty of these Enghsh friends. It
is a cold night, the wind blowing like November; it has
been the first day of my exhibition of pictures per card,
and one hundred and sixty-four persons were admitted.

August 15. Green Bank^ three miles from Liverpool. I
am now at this quiet country home ; the morning passed in
drawing, and this afternoon I took a long walk with Miss
Rathbone and her nephew ; we were accompanied by a
rare dog from Kamschatka. How I did wish / could have
conducted them towards the beech woods where we could
move wherever fancy led us ; but no, it could not be, and
we walked between dreary walls, without the privilege of
advancing towards any particular object that might attract
the eye. Is it not shocking that while in England all is
hospitality zuithin, all is so different without ? No one dare
trespass, as it is called. Signs of large dogs are put up ;
steel traps and spring guns are set up, and even ryes are
kept out by high walls. Everywhere we meet beggars, for
England though rich, has poverty gaping every way you
look, and the beggars ask for bread, — yes, absolutely for
food. I can only pray. May our Heavenly Father have
mercy on them.

Ajigust 17. Green Bank. This morning I lay on the
grass a long time listening to the rough voice of a Magpie;
it is not the same bird that we have in America. I drove
to the Institution with the Queen Bee of Green Bank, and
this afternoon began a painting of the Otter in a trap, with
the intention to present it (if it is good) to my friend Mr.
Roscoe's wife. This evening dined at Mr. Wm. Rathbone's,

and there met a Quaker lady, Mrs. Abigail , who

talked much and well about the present condition of Eng-
land, her poor, her institutions, etc. It is dreadful to know
of the want of bread here ; will it not lead to the horrors of
another revolution? The children of the very poor are
often forced by their parents to collect daily a certain

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS I15

amount by begging, or perhaps even stealing; failing to
obtain this they are cruelly punished on their return home,
and the tricks they resort to, to gain their ends, are num-
berless and curious. The newspapers abound with such
accounts, and are besides filled with histories of murders,
thefts, hangings, and other abominable acts ; I can scarce
look at them.

August 19. Dined with Mr. A. Melly in Grenville St.
The dinner was quite a la frangaise, all gayety, witticism,
and good cheer. The game, however, was what I call
highly tainted, the true flavor for the lords of England.

August 21. I painted many hours this day, finished my
Otter; it was viewed by many and admired. I was again
invited to remove to Green Bank, but declined until I have
painted the Wild Turkey cock for the Royal Institution,
say three days more.

September 4.. Having been too busy to write for many
days, I can only relate the principal facts that have taken
place. I have been to two very notable suppers, one at Dr.
Traill's in company with the French consul and two other
French gentlemen; I was much encouraged, and urged to
visit France at once. The other at the house of Mr. Moli-
neux ; there indeed my ears were feasted; such entertaining
conversation, such delightful music; Mr. Clementi^ and
Mr. Tomlinson from London were present. Many persons
came to my painting room, they wonder at the rapidity of
my work and that I can paint fourteen hours without
fatigue. My Turkeys are now framed, and hung at the
Institution which is open daily, and paying well. I have
made many small drawings for different friends. All my
Sundays are alike, — breakfast with Mr. Melly, church with
the blind, dinner with Mr. Roscoe. Every one is surprised
at my habits of early rising, and at my rarely touching
meat, except game.

^ Muzio Clementi, composer and pianist, bom in Rome, 1752, died in Lon-
don, 1S32. Head of the piano firm of that name.

Il6 AUDUBON

Green Bank, September G. When I reached this place
I was told that Lady Isabella Douglass, the sister of Lord
Selkirk, former governor of Canada, was here ; she is un-
able to walk, and moves about in a rolling chair. At
dinner I sat between her and Mrs, Rathbone, and I enjoyed
the conversation of Lady Douglass much, her broad Scotch
accent is agreeable tome; and I amused her by eating
some tomatoes raw; neither she, nor any of the company
had ever seen them on the table without being cooked.

September 9. Dr. Traill has ordered all my drawings to
be packed by the curator of the Institution, so that has
given me no trouble whatever. It is hard to say farewell
to all those in town and country who have been so kind,
so hospitable to me, but to-morrow I leave for Manchester,
where Mr. Roscoe advises me to go next.

MancJiester, County of Lancashire, September 10, 1S2G.
I must write something of my coming here. After
bidding adieu to many friends, I went to Dr. Traill, who
most kindly insisted on my taking Mr. Munro with me for
two days to assist me, and we left by coach with my
portfolios, my trunk to follow by a slower conveyance. I
paid one pound for our inside seats. I felt depressed at
leaving all my good friends, yet Mr. Munro did all in his
power to interest me. He made me remark Lord Stanley's
domains, and I looked on the Hares, Partridges, and other
game with a thought of apprehension that the apparent
freedom and security they enjoyed was very transient. I
thought it more cruel to permit them to grow tame and
gentle, and then suddenly to turn and murder them by
thousands, than to give them the fair show that our game
has in our forests, to let them be free and as wild as nature
made them, and to let the hunter pay for them by the
pleasure and work of pursuing them. We stopped, I
thought frequently, to renew the horses, and wherever w^e
stopped a neatly dressed maid offered cakes, ale, or other
refreshments for sale. I remarked little shrubs in many

THE E U ROPE A N JO URN A LS WJ

parts of the meadows that concealed traps for moles and
served as beacons for the persons who caught them. The
road was good, but narrow, the country in a high degree
of cultivation. We crossed a canal conducting from Liver-
pool here ; the sails moving through the meadows reminded
me of Rochester, N. Y. I am, then, now at Manchester,
thirty-eight miles from Liverpool, and nearly six thousand
from Louisiana.

Manchester, September 12. Yesterday was spent in de-
livering my letters to the different persons to whom I was
recommended. The American consul, Mr. J. S. Brookes,
with whom I shall dine to-morrow, received me as an Amer-
ican gentleman receives another, most cordially. The prin-
cipal banker here, Arthur Heywood, Esq., was equally
kind ; indeed everywhere I meet a most amiable reception.
I procured, through these gentlemen, a good room to
exhibit my pictures, in the Exchange buildings, had it
cleared, cleaned, and made ready by night. At five this
morning Mr. Munro (the curator of the Institution at
Liverpool and a most competent help) with several assis-
tants and myself began putting up, and by eleven all was
ready. Manchester, as I have seen it in my walks, seems
a miserably laid out place, and the smokiest I ever was
in. I think I ought not to use the words " laid out " at
all. It is composed of an astonishing number of small,
dirty, narrow, crooked lanes, where one cart can scarce
pass another. It is full of noise and tumult ; I thought
last night not one person could have enjoyed repose.
The postilion's horns, joined to the cry of the watchmen,
kept my eyelids asunder till daylight again gave me
leave to issue from the King's Arms. The population
appears denser and worse off than in Liverpool. The vast
number of youth of both sexes, with sallow complexions,
ragged apparel, and downcast looks, made me feel they
were not as happy as the slaves of Louisiana. Trade is
slowly improving, but the times are dull. I have heard

Il8 AUDUBON

the times abused ever since my earliest recollections. I
saw to-day several members of the Gregg family.

September 13, Wed7iesday. 1 have visited the Academy of
Sciences ; my time here was largely spoiled by one of those
busybodies who from time to time rise to the surface, —
a dealer in stuffed specimens, and there ends his history.
I wished him in Hanover, or Congo, or New Zealand, or
Bombay, or in a bomb-shell en route to eternity. Mr. Munro
left me to-day, and I removed from the hotel to the house
of a Mrs. Edge, in King Street, who keeps a circulating
library; here I have more quietness and a comfortable
parlor and bedroom. I engaged a man named Crookes,
well recommended, to attend as money receiver at the door
of my exhibition room. I pay him fifteen shillings per
week ; he finds himself, and copies letters for me. Two
men came to the exhibition room and inquired if I wished
a band of music to entertain the visitors. I thanked them,
but do not consider it necessary in the company of so
many songsters. My pictures here must depend on their
real value ; in Liverpool I kiieiv I was supported by my
particular friends. ... It is eleven o'clock, and I have
just returned from Consul Brookes' dinner. The company
were all gentlemen, among whom were Mr. Lloyd, the
wealthy banker, and Mr. Garnet. Our host is from Boston,
a most intelligent and polite man. Judge of my surprise
when, during the third course, I saw on the table a dish of
Indian corn, purposely for me. To see me cat it buttered
and salted, held as if I intended gagging myself, was a
matter of much wonder to the English gentlemen, who
did not like the vegetable. We had an English dinner
Americanized, and the profusion of wines, and the quan-
tity drank was uncomfortable to me ; 1 was constantly
obliged to say, " No." The gentleman next me was a good
naturalist ; much, of course, was said about my work and
that of Charles Bonaparte. The conversation turned on
politics, and Mr. Brookes and myself, the only Americans

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS II9

present, ranged ourselves and toasted " Our enemies in
war, but our friends in peace." I am particularly fond of
a man who speaks well of his country, and the peculiar
warmth of Englishmen on this subject is admirable. I
have had a note from Lord de Tabelay, who is anxious to
see my drawings and me, and begs me to go to his domain
fourteen miles distant, on my way to Birmingham. I ob-
served that many persons who visited the exhibition
room investigated my style more closely than at Liver-
pool. A Dr. Hulme spent several hours both yesterday
and to-day looking at them, and I have been asked many
times if they were for sale. I walked some four miles out
of the town ; the country is not so verdant, nor the country
seats so clean-looking, as Green Bank for instance. The
funnels raised from the manufactories to carry off the
smoke appear in hundreds in every direction, and as you
walk the street, the whirring sound of machinery is con-
stantly in your ears. The changes in the weather are
remarkable ; at daylight it rained hard, at noon it was
fair, this afternoon it rained again, at sunset was warm,
and now looks like a severe frost.

September IJf, Thursday. I have dined to-day at the
home of Mr. George W. Wood, about two miles from the
town. He drove me thither in company with four gentlemen,
all from foreign countries, Mexico, Sumatra, Constantinople,
and La Guayra ; all were English and had been travelling
for business or pleasure, not for scientific or literary pur-
poses. Mrs. Wood was much interested in her gardens,
which are very fine, and showed me one hundred bags of
black gauze, which she had made to protect as many
bunches of grapes from the wasps.

September 15. FROST. This morning the houses were
covered with frost, and I felt uncommonly cold and shiv-
ery. My exhibition was poorly attended, but those who
came seemed interested. Mr. Hoyle, the eminent chemist,
came with four very pretty little daughters, in little gray

I20 AUDUBON

satin bonnets, gray silk spencers, and white petticoats, as
befitted them, being Quakers ; also Mr. Heyvvood, the
banker, who invited me to dine next Sunday. I spent the
evening at the Rev. James I. Taylor's, in company with
himself, his wife, and two gentlemen, one a Parisian. I
cannot help expressing my surprise that the people of
England, generally speaking, are so unacquainted with the
customs and localities of our country. The principal con-
versation about it always turns to Indians and their ways,
as if the land produced nothing else. Almost every lady
in England draws in water-colors, many of them extremely
well, very much better than I ever will do, yet few of them
dare to show their productions. Somehow I do not like
Manchester.

September 17, Sunday. I have been thinking over my
stay in Liverpool; surely I can never express, much less
hope to repay, my indebtedness to my many friends there,
especially the Roscoes, the three families of Rathbone, and
Dr. Thomas S. Traill. My drawings were exhibited for
four weeks without a cent of expense to me, and brought
me ;{^ioo. I gave to the Institution a large piece, the
wild Turkey Cock; to Mrs. Rathbone, Sr., the Otter in a
trap, to Mr. Roscoe a Robin, and to many of my other
friends some small drawing, as mementos of one who will
always cherish their memories. I wrote a long letter to
my son John Woodhouse urging him to spend much of
his time at drawing from nature only, and to keep every
drawing with the date, that he may trace improvement, if
any, also to speak French constantly, that he may not for-
get a language in which he is now perfect. I have also
written to the Governor of New York, his Excellency De
Witt Clinton, to whose letters I am indebted for much of
my cordial reception here. At two I started for Cler-
mont, Mr. Heywood's residence, where I was to dine.
The grounds are fine, and on a much larger scale than
Green Bank, but the style is wholly different. The

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 121

house is immense, but I was kindly received and felt at
ease at once. After dinner the ladies left us early. We
soon retired to the library to drink tea, and IVIiss Hey-
wood showed me her portfolio of drawings, and not long
after I took my leave.

September 18, Monday. Mr. Sergeant came for me at
half-past three and escorted me to his house. I am de-
lighted with him — his house — his pictures — his books
— his guns — and his dogs, and very much so with a
friend of his from London, who dined with us. The
weather has been beautiful, and more persons than usual
at my rooms.

September 19, Tuesday. I saw Mr. Melly this morning
at the Exchange; he had not long arrived from Liverpool.
He had been to my door-keeper, examined the Book of
Income, and told me he was sorry and annoyed at my want
of success, and advised me to go at once to London or
Paris. He depressed me terribly, so that I felt really ill.
He invited me to dine with him, but I told him I had already
engaged to go to Mr. Samuel Gregg ^ at Quarry Bank, four-
teen miles distant, to pass the night. Mr. Gregg, who is the
father of a large family, met me as if he had known me
fifty years ; with him came his brother William and his
daughter, the carriage was ready, and off we drove. We
crossed a river in the course of our journey nearly fifty
feet wide. I was told it was a stream of great importance :
the name I have forgotten,- but I know it is seven miles
from Manchester en route to Derbyshire. The land is
highly improved, and grows wheat principally; the coun-
try is pretty, and many of the buildings are really beauti-
ful. We turn down a declivity to Quarry Bank, a most
enchanting spot, situated on the edge of the same river
we had crossed, — the grounds truly picturesque, and cul-
tivated to the greatest possible extent. In the drawing-
room I met three ladies, the daughters of Mr. Gregg, and
1 Relative of Mr. Wm. Rathbone, Sr. 2 The Invell.

122 AUDUBON

the second daughter of Mr. Wm. Rathbone. After tea I
drew a dog in charcoal, and rubbed it with a cork to give
an idea of the improvement over the common stumps ordi-
narily used. Afterwards I accompanied the two brothers
to a debating club, instituted on their premises for the ad-
vancement of their workmen; on the way we passed a
chapel and a long row of cottages for the work-people, and
finally reached the schoolroom, where about thirty men had
assembled. The question presented was " Which was the
more advantageous, the discovery of the compass, or that
of the art of printing ? " I listened with interest, and later
talked with the men on some of the wonders of my own
country, in which they seemed to be much interested.

Quarry Bank, September 20. Though the weather was
cloudy and somewhat rainy, I rose early, took an immense
walk, up and down the river, through the gardens, along
the road, and about the woods, fields, and meadows; saw
a flock of Partridges, and at half-past eight had done this
and daubed in a sketch of an Esquimau in a sledge,
drawn by four dogs. The offer was made me to join a
shooting party in the afternoon ; all was arranged, and the
pleasure augmented by the presence of Mr. Shaw, the
principal game-keeper of Lord Stanford, who obligingly
promised to show us many birds (so are Partridges called).
Our guns are no longer than my arm, and we had two
good dogs. Pheasants are not to be touched till the first of
October, but an exception was made for me and one was
shot, and I picked it up while his eye was yet all life, his
feathers all brilliancy. We had a fine walk and saw the
Derbyshire hills. Mr. Shaw pocketed five shillings, and
we the game. This was my first hunting on P^nglish soil,
on Lord Stanford's domain, where every tree — such as
we should call saplings — was marked and numbered, and
for all that I know pays either a tax to the government or
a tithe to the parish. I am told that a Partridge which
crosses the river, or a road, or a boundary, and alights on

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 23

ground other than Lord Stanford's, is as safe from his gun
as if in Guinea.

September 21. I returned to town this morning with
my Pheasant. Reached my exhibition room and received
miserable accounts. I see plainly that my expenses in
Manchester will not be repaid, in which case I must move
shortly. I called on Dr. Hulme and represented the
situation, and he went to the Academy of Natural History
and ordered a committee to meet on Saturday, to see if the
Academy could give me a room. Later I mounted my
pheasant, and all is ready for work to-morrow.

September 22. I have drawn all day and am fatigued.
Only twenty people to see my birds ; sad work this. The
consul, Mr. Brookes, came to see me, and advised me to
have a subscription book for my work. I am to dine with
him at Mr. Lloyd's at one next Sunday.

September 23. My drawing this morning moved rapidly,
and at eleven I walked to the Exchange and met Dr.
Hulme and several other friends, who told me the Com-
mittee had voted unanimously to grant me a room gratis
to exhibit my drawings. I thanked them most heartily,
as this greatly lessens my expenses. More people than
usual came to my rooms, and I dined with Mr. Samuel
Gregg, Senior, in Fountain Street. I purchased some chalk,
for which I paid more than four times as much as in
Philadelphia, England is so overdone with duty. I visited
the cotton mills of George Murray, Esq., where fifteen
hundred souls are employed. These mills consist of a
square area of about eight acres, built round with houses
five, six, and seven stories high, having in the centre of the
square a large basin of water from the canal. Two engines
of forty and forty-five horse-power are kept going from
6 A. M. to 8 P. M. daily. Mr. Murray himself conducted
me everywhere. This is the largest establishment owned
by a single individual in Manchester. Some others, be-
longing to companies, have as many as twenty-five hundred

124 AUDUBON

hands, as poor, miserable, abject-looking wretches as ever
worked in the mines of Golconda. I was asked to spend
Monday night at Mr. Robert Hyde Gregg's place, Higher
Ardwick, but I have a ticket for a fine concert, and I so
love music that it is doubtful if I go. I took tea at Mr.
Bartley's, and promised to write on his behalf for the
bones of an alligator of a good size. Now we shall see if
he gets one as quickly as did Dr. Harlan. I have con-
cluded to have a " Book of Subscriptions " open to receive
the names of all persons inclined to have the best illustra-
tions of American birds yet published ; but alas ! I am
but a beginner in depicting the beautiful works of God.

Sunday, September 2Jf. I drew at my Pheasant till near
eleven o'clock, the weather warm and cloudy. Then I
went to church and then walked to Mr. Lloyd's. I left
the city and proceeded two miles along the turnpike,
having only an imperfect view of the country; I remarked,
however, that the foliage was deeply colored with autum-
nal tints. I reached the home of Mr. Brookes, and together
we proceeded to Mr. Llo}'d's. This gentleman met us
most kindly at the entrance, and we went with him through
his garden and hot-houses. The grounds are on a declivity
affording a far view of agreeable landscape, the gardens
most beautifully provided with all this wonderful island
affords, and the hot-houses contain abundant supplies of
exotics, flower, fruit, and shrub. The coffee-tree was bear-
ing, the banana ripening; here were juicy grapes from
Spain and Italy, the sensitive plant shrunk at my touch,
and all was growth, blossom, and perfume. Art here helps
Nature to produce hei richest treasures at will, and man in
England, if rich, may be called the God of the present
day. Flower after flower was plucked for me, and again
I felt how perfectly an English gentleman makes a
stranger feel at home. We were joined by Mr. Thomas
Lloyd and Mr. Hindley as we moved towards the house,
where we met Mrs. Lloyd, two daughters, and a lady

THE E UROPEA N JO URNALS 1 2 5

whose name escapes me. We were, of course, surrounded
by all that is rich, comfortable, pleasing to the eye. Three
men servants in livery trimmed with red on a white ground
moved quietly as Killdeers; everything was choice and
abundant; the conversation was general and lively; but
we sat at the table five hours, two after the ladies left us,
and I grew restless ; unless drawing or out of doors I like
not these long periods of repose. After joining the ladies
in the library, tea and coffee were served, and in another
hour we were in a coach en route for Manchester.

September 25. Who should come to my room this
morning about seven whilst I was busily finishing the
ground of my Pheasant but a handsome Quaker, about
thirty years of age and very neatly dressed, and thus he
spoke : " My friends are going out of Manchester before
thee opens thy exhibition rooms ; can we see thy collec-
tion at nine o'clock ? " I answer, "Yes," and show him my
drawing. Now were all the people here Quakers, I might
perhaps have some encouragement, but really, my Lucy,
my times are dull, heavy, long, painful, and my mind much
harassed. Five minutes before nine I was standing wait-
ing for the Quaker and his friends in the lobby of the
Exchange, when two persons came in and held the follow-
ing discourse. " Pray, have you seen Mr. Audubon's col-
lections of birds? I am told it is well worth a shilling;
suppose we go now." " Pah ! it is all a hoax ; save your
shilling for better use. I Jiave seen them ; the fellow ought
to be drummed out of town." I dared not raise my head
lest I might be known, but depend upon it I wished my-
self in America. The Quakers, however, restored my
equilibrium, for they all praised my drawings so much that
I blushed in spite of my old age. I took my drawing of
the Pheasant to Mr. Fanetti's (?) shop and had it put in
a good light. I have made arrangements to have my
pictures in my new place in King Street, and hope to do
better next week. At four I took down two hundred and

126 AUDUBON

forty drawings and packed them ready for removal. Now
for the concert. It was six o'clock and raining when I left
for Fountain Street, where already carriages had accumu-
lated to a great number. I presented my ticket, and was
asked to write my name and residence, for this is not
exactly a public affair, but most select; so I am told.
The room is full of red, white, blue, and green turbans well
fitted to the handsome heads of the ladies. I went to one
side where my ear and my intellect might be well satisfied,
and where I should not be noticed ; but it would not do,
my long hair and unfashionable garments were observed
far more than was agreeable to me. But the music soon
began, and I forgot all else for the time ; still between the
various performances I felt myself gazed at through lor-
gnettes, and was most ill at ease. I have passed many un-
comfortable evenings in company, and this one may be
added.

Quarry Bank, September 26. Whilst putting up my
pictures in my newly granted " apartment " I received a
note from Mrs. Gregg inviting me here for the night to
meet Professor Smyth. ^ He is a tall, fine-looking gentle-
man from Cambridge, full of knowledge, good taste, and
kindness. At dinner the Professor sat opposite the
Woodsman, and America was largely the topic of conver-
sation. One evening spent with people such as these
is worth a hundred fashionable ones.

Wednesday, September 27. It is a strange atmosphere,
warm, damp, rainy, then fair again, all in less than two
hours, which was the time consumed by my early walk.
On my return soon after eight I found four of the ladies
all drawing in the library ; that in this country is generally
the sitting-room. At about ten we had breakfast, when
we talked much of duels, and of my friend Clay ^ and

1 William Smyth, 1766-1S49, poet, scholar, and Professor of Modern
History at Cambridge.

2 Henry Clay.

THE EUROPEAN JOURiYALS 12/

crazy Randolph.^ Much is unknown about our country,
and yet all are deeply interested in it. To-morrow I am
off to Liverpool again; how much I shall enjoy being once
again with the charming Rathbones.

Green Bank, near Liverpool, September 28. At five this
morning I left Manchester and its smoke behind me; but
I left there the labors of about ten years of my life, fully
one half of my collection. The ride was a wet one, heavy
rain falling continuously. I was warmly welcomed by my
good Liverpool friends, and though completely drenched
I felt it not, so glad was I to be in Liv^erpool again. My
being here is soon explained. I felt it best to see Dr.
Traill and Mr. Roscoe, and I dined with the latter; we
talked of Manchester and our friends there, and Mr.
Roscoe thought well of the subscription book. From
here to Green Bank, where I am literally at home. Mr.
Rathbone and Mr. Roscoe will both aid me in the drawing
up of a prospectus for my work.

Green Bank, September 29. It rained during the night
and all the early portion of the day. I breakfasted early,
and at half-past nine Mr. Rathbone and I drove in the
gig to Mrs. Wm. S. Roscoe.^ After a little conversation
we decided nothing could be done about the prospectus
without more definite knowledge of what the cost of pub-
lication would be, and I was again referred to Dr. Traill.
It happened that here I met a Mr. Bohn, from London,
not a publisher, but a bookseller with an immense es-
tablishment, two hundred thousand volumes as a regular
stock. He advised me to proceed at once to London,
meet the principal naturalists of the day, and through
them to see the best engravers, colorists, printers, paper-
merchants, etc., and thus form some idea of the cost;
then to proceed to Paris, Brussels, and possibly Berlin,

1 John Randolph of Roanoke, 1773-1833, American orator and states-
man.

2 William S. Roscoe, son of William Roscoe, 1781-1843.

128 AUDUBON

with proper letters, and follow the same course, thereby
becoming able to judge of the advantages and disad-
vantages attached to each country and to detcnniiic viyself
wheiiy where, and hoiu the work should be undertaken;
to be during this time, through the medium of friends,
correspondence, and scientific societies, announced to the
world in some of the most widely read periodical publica-
tions. " Then, Mr. Audubon, issue a prospectus, and bring
forth one number of your work, and I think you will
succeed and do well ; but remember my observations on
the size of your book, and be governed by this fact, that
at present productions of taste are purchased with delight,
by persons who receive much company particularly, and
to ha\'e j'our book laid on the table as a pastime, or an
evening's entertainment, will be the principal use made
of it, and that if it needs so much room as to crowd out
other things or encumber the table, it will not be pur-
chased by the set of people who now are the very life of
the trade. If large public institutions only and a few
noblemen purchase, instead of a thousand copies that may
be sold if small, not more than a hundred will find their
way out of the shops; the size must be suitable for
the EnglisJi market'' (such was his expression), "and
ought not to exceed that of double Wilson." This con-
versation took place in the presence of Dr. Traill, and
both he and Mr. Roscoe are convinced it is my only plan.
Mr. Bohn told Dr. Traill, as well as myself, that exhibiting
my pictures would not do well ; that I might be in London
a year before I should be known at all, but that through
the scientific periodicals I should be known over Europe
in the same time, when probably my first number would
be published. He strongly advised me to have the work
printed and finished in Paris, bring over to England say
two hundred and fifty copies, to have it bound and the
titlcpage printed, to be issued to the world of England
as an English publication. This I will tiot do ; no work of

c/^ - /^a^:

FROM A PENCIL SKETCH OF AUDUBON.

DRAWN BY HIMSELF FOR MRS. RATHBOXE.
Now in the possession of Mr. Richard R. Rathbone. Glan-y-Menai, Anglesey.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 129

mine shall be other than true metal — if copper, copper,
if gold, gold, but not copper gilded. He admitted it
would be a great undertaking, and immensely laborious,
but, he added, my drawings being so superior, I might
rest assured success would eventually be mine. This plan,
therefore, I will pursue with the same perseverance that
since twenty-five years has not wavered, and God's will
be done. Having now determined on this I will return
to Manchester after a few days, visit thy native place,
gaze on the tombs of thy ancestors in Derby and Leicester,
and then enter London with a head humbly bent, but
with a heart intently determined to conquer. On return-
ing to this abode of peace, I was overtaken by a gentleman
in a gig, unknown to me quite, but who offered me a seat.
I thanked him, accepted, and soon learned he was a Mr.
Dearman. He left me at Green Bank, and the evening
was truly delightful.

September jo, Woodcraft. I am now at Mr. Richard
Rathbone's ; I did not leave Green Bank this morning
till nearly noon. The afternoon was spent with Dr. Traill,
with whom I dined ; there was only his own family, and
I was much entertained by Dr. Traill and his son. A man
of such extensive and well digested knowledge as Dr.
Traill cannot fail to be agreeable. About eight his son
drove me to Woodcroft, where were three other guests,
Quakers. The remainder of the evening was spent with
a beautiful microscope and a Diamond Beetle. Mr. Rath-
bone is enthusiastic over my publishing plans, and I will
proceed with firm resolution to attempt the being an
author. It is a terrible thing to me ; far better am I fitted
to study and delineate in the forest, than to arrange
phrases with suitable grammatical skill. For the present
the public exhibiting of my work will be laid aside, —
/ hope, forever. I now intend going to Matlock, and from
there to my Lucy's native place, pass through Oxford,

and so reach the great London, and once more become
VOL. I. — 9

130 AUDUBON

the man of business. From there to France, but, except
to see my venerable mother, I shall not like France,
I am sure, as I now do England ; and I sincerely hope
that this country may be preferred to that, on financial
grounds, for the production of my work. Yet I love
France most truly, and long to enter my old garden on
the Loire and with rapid steps reach my mother, — yes,
my mother! the only one I truly remember; and no son
ever had a better, nor more loving one. Let no one
sp^ak of her as my " stepmother." I was ever to her
as a son of her own flesh and blood, and she to me a true
mother. I have written to Louisiana to have forwarded
from Bayou Sara six segments of magnolia, yellow-poplar,
beech, button-wood or sycamore, sassafras, and oak, each
about seven or eight inches in thickness of the largest
diameter that can be procured in the woods; to have
each segment carefully handled so as not to mar the bark,
and to have each name neatly painted on the face, with
the height of the tree. These are for the Liverpool Royal
Institution.

Green Bank, Oetober 1. Though the morning was bright
it was near four before I left my room and stepped into
the fresh air, where I could watch the timid birds fly from
bush to bush before me. I turned towards the Mersey
reflecting the calm, serene skies, and listened to the voice
of the Quail, here so shy. I walked to the tide-beaten
beach and watched the Solan Goose in search of a retreat
from the destroyer, man. Suddenly a poorly dressed man,
in somewhat of a sailor garb, and carrying a large bag
dashed past me ; his movement suggested flight, and in-
stinctively I called, " Stop thief! " and made towards him
in a style that I am sure he had never seen used by the
eentlemen of the customs, who at this hour are doubtless
usually drowsy. I was not armed, but to my surprise he
turned, fell at my feet, and with eyes starting from his head
with apprehension, begged for mercy, said the bag only

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 131

contained a few leaves of rotten tobacco, and it was the
first time he had ever smuggled. This, then, was a smug-
gler ! I told him to rise, and as he did so I perceived the
boat that had landed him. There were five men in it, but
instead of landing and defending their companion, they
fled by rowing, like cowards, swiftly away. I was aston-
ished at such conduct from Englishmen. I told the abject
creature to bring his bag and open it; this he did. It was
full of excellent tobacco, but the poor wretch looked ill
and half starved, and I never saw a human being more
terrified. He besought me to take the tobacco and let
him go, that it was of the rarest quality. I assured him I
never had smoked a single cigar, nor did I intend to, and
told him to take care he did not offend a second time.
One of my pockets was filled with the copper stuff the
shop-keepers here give, which they call penny. I gave
them all to him, and told him to go. He thanked me many
times and disappeared through a thick hedge. The bag
must have contained fifty pounds of fine tobacco and two
pistols, which were not loaded, or so he said. I walked
back to Green Bank thinking of the smuggler. When I
told Mr. Rathbone of my adventure he said I had been
extremely rash, and that I might have been shot dead on
the spot, as these men are often desperadoes. Well ! I
suppose I might have thought of this, but dear me ! one
cannot always think over every action carefully before com-
mitting it. On my way back I passed a man digging
potatoes ; they were small and indifferently formed. The
season has been uncommonly dry and hot — so the English
say ; for my part I am almost freezing most of the time,
and I have a bad cough.

October 2. This^morning Mrs. Rathbone asked me if I
would draw her a sketch of the Wild Turkey, about the
size of my thumb-nail. I assured her I would with pleasure,
but that I could perhaps do better did I know for what
purpose. She colored slightly, and replied after a moment

132 AUDUBON

that it was for something she desired to have made ; so
after I had reached the Institution and finished my business
there, I sat opposite my twenty-three hours' picture and
made the diminutive sketch in less than twenty-three
minutes. The evening was spent at Woodcroft, and Mr.
Rathbone sent his servant to drive me in the gig to Green
Bank, the night being cold and damp. The man was quite
surprised I did not make use of a great coat which had
been placed at my disposal. How little he knew how
often I had lain down to rest, wet, hungry, harassed and
full of sorrow, with millions of mosquitoes buzzing round
me as I lay awake listening to the Chuckmill's Widow, the
Horned Owl, and the hoarse Bull-frog, impatiently awaiting
the return of day to enable me to hunt the forests and
feast my eyes on their beautiful inhabitants. I thought of
all this and then moved the scene to the hunter's cabin.
Again wet, harassed, and hungry, I felt the sudden warmth
of the " Welcome, stranger! " saw the busy wife unhook
dry clothes from the side of the log hut, untie my moc-
casins, and take my deerskin coat; I saw the athletic
husband wipe my gun, clean the locks, hang all over the
bright fire; the eldest boy pile on more wood, whilst my
cars were greeted with the sound of the handmill crushing
the coffee, or the rye, for my evening drink ; I saw the lit-
tle ones, roused by the stranger's arrival, peeping from
under the Buffalo robe, and then turn over on the Black Bear
skin to resume their slumbers. I saw all this, and then
arrived at Green Bank to meet the same hearty welcome.
The squatter is rough, true, and hospitable ; my friends
here polished, true, and generous. Both give what they
have, freely, and he who during the tough storms of life
can be in such spots may well say he has known
happiness.

Green Bank, October 3. To-day I have visited the jail
at Liverpool. The situation is fine, it is near the mouth of
the estuary that is called the river Mersey, and from its

AUDUBON IN INDIAN DRESS.

From a pencil sketch drawn by himself for Miss Rathbone, 1826. Xow in the possession of Mrs. Abraham
Dixon («« Rathbone), London, England.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 33

walls is an extensive view of the Irish Channel. The area
owned by this institution is about eight acres. It is built
almost circular in form, having gardens in the court in the
centre, a court of sessions on one side and the main en-
trance on the other. It contains, besides the usual cells, a
chapel, and yards in which the prisoners take exercise,
kitchens, store-rooms, etc., besides treadmills. The tread-
mills I consider infamous; conceive a wild Squirrel in a
round cage constantly moving, without progressing. The
labor is too severe, and the true motive of correction de-
stroyed, as there are no mental resources attached to this
laborious engine of shame. Why should not these crimi-
nals — if so they are — be taught different trades, enabling
them when again thrown into the world to earn their living
honestly? It would be more profitable to the government,
and the principle would be more honorable. It is besides
injurious to health ; the wheel is only six feet in diameter,
therefore the motion is rapid, and each step must be taken
in quick succession, and I know a quick, short step is more
fatiguing than a long one. The emaciated bodies of the
poor fellows proved this to my eyes, as did my powers of
calculation. The circulation of air was much needed ; it
was painful to me to breathe in the room where the mill
was, and I left it saddened and depressed. The female
department is even more lamentable, but I will say no
more, except that my guide and companion was Miss
Mary Hodgson, a Quakeress of great benevolence and
solid understanding, whose labors among these poor un-
fortunates have been of immense benefit. I dined with
her, her sister and brother, the latter a merchant of this
busy city.

Manchester, October 6. This morning after four hours'
rest I rose early. Again taking my boots in my hand, I
turned the latch gently, and found myself alone in the
early dawn. It was one of those mornings when not suffi-
ciently cold for a frost ; the dew lay in large drops on each

134 AUDUBON

object, weighing down the points of every leaf, every blade
of grass. The heavens were cloudless, all breezes hushed,
and the only sound the twitterings of the Red-breasted
Warbler. I saw the Blackbird mounted on the slender
larch, waiting to salute the morning sun, the Thrush on the
grass by the mulberry tree, and the Lark unwilling to bid
farewell to summer. The sun rose, the Rook's voice now
joined with that of the Magpie. I saw a Stock Pigeon fly
over me, and I started and walked swiftly into Liverpool.
Here, arriving before six, no one was up, but by repeated
knockings I aroused first Mr. Pillet, and then Mr. Melly.
On my return to tlie country I encountered Mr. Wm.
Roscoe, also out for an early walk. For several days past
the last Swallows have flown toward the south, frosts have
altered the tints of the foliage, and the mornings have been
chilly ; and I was rubbing my hands to warm them when I
met Mr. Roscoe. " A fine, warm morning this, Mr. Audu-
bon." " Yes," I replied, " the kind of morning I like a
fire with half a cord of wood." He laughed and said I
was too tropical in my tastes, but I was glad to keep warm
by my rapid walking. At eleven I was on my way to
Manchester, this time in a private carriage with Mrs. Rath-
bone and Miss Hannah. We changed horses twelve miles
from Green Bank; it was done in a moment, up went a
new postilion, and off" we went. Our luncheon had been
brought with us, and was really well served as we rolled
swiftly along. After plenty of substantial, our dessert
consisted of grapes, pears, and a melon, this last by no
means so frequently seen here as in Louisiana. We
reached smoky Manchester and I was left at the door of
the Academy of Natural History, where I found the man
I had left in charge much intoxicated. Seldom in my life
have I felt more vexed. When he is sober I shall give him
the opportunity of immediately finding a new situation.

Quarry Bank, October 7, Saturday. From Green Bank
to Quarry Bank from one pleasure to another, is not like

THE E UR OPE A N JO URN A LS 1 3 5

the butterfly that skips from flower to flower and merely
sees their beauties, but more, I hope, as a bee gathering
honeyed stores for future use. My cold was still quite
troublesome, and many remedies were ofl'ered me, but I
never take physic, and will not, even for kind Mrs. Gregg,

Sunday, October 8. I went to church at Mr. Gregg's
chapel ; the sermon was good, and the service being over,
took Miss Helen a long ramble through the gardens, in
which even now there is much of beauty,

October 9. As soon as possible a male Chaffinch was
procured, and I sat to draw it to give an idea of what
Mrs. Gregg calls " my style." The Chaffinch was outlined,
daubed with water-colors, and nearly finished when we
were interrupted by callers. Dr. Holland among them, with
whom I was much pleased and interested, though I am
neither a craniologist nor a physiognomist. Lord Stan-
ford's gamekeeper again came for us, and we had a long
walk, and I killed a Pheasant and a Hare,

October 10. To-day I returned to Manchester to meet
Mr. Bohn. We went to the Academy together, and
examined my drawings, Mr. Bohn was at first simply
surprised, then became enthusiastic, and finally said they
must be published the full size of life, and he was sure
they would pay, God grant it ! He strongly advised me
to leave Manchester, and go to London, where he knew I
should at once be recognized. I dined at the good
Quaker's, Mr. Dockray, where my friends Mrs. and Miss
Rathbone are visiting; there is a large and interesting
family. I sketched an Egret for one, a Wild Turkey for
another, a Wood Thrush for a third.

Bakewcll, October 11. I am at last, my Lucy, at the
spot which has been honored with thy ancestor's name.
Though dark and rainy I have just returned from a walk
in the churchyard of the village, where I went with Miss
Hannah Rathbone, she and her mother having most kindly
accompanied me hither. It was perhaps a strange place

136 AUDUBON

to go first, but we were attracted by the ancient Gothic
edifice. It seemed to me a sort of illusion that made me
doubt whether I lived or dreamed. When I think how fre-
quently our plans have been laid to come here, and how
frequently defeated, it is no great wonder that I find it
hard to believe I am here at last. This morning at break-
fast. Lady Rathbone spoke of coming to Matlock, and in
a {q\v moments all was arranged. She, with her niece,
Mrs. Dockray, and Miss Hannah, with several of the
children and myself, should leave in two chaises at noon.
I spent the time till then in going over Mr. Dockray's
wool mill. He procures the wool rough from the sheep,
and it is cloth when he disposes of it; he employs about
seventy weavers, and many other people in the various
departments. I was much interested in the dyeing appara-
tus. I packed up a few of my drawings to take with me.
We started, seven of us, in two chaises ; all was new, and
therefore interesting. We reached Stockport, a manufac-
turing town lying between two elongated hillsides, where
we changed horses, and again at Chapel En-La-Frith,
thirty miles from the point of departure. I saw a good
deal of England that I admired very much. The railways
were new to me, but the approach of the mountains damp-
ened my spirits ; the aridity of the soil, the want of
hedges, and of course of birds, the scarcity of cattle, and
the superabundance of stone walls cutting the hills in all
sorts of distorted ways, made me a very unsocial companion,
but the comfortable inn, and our lively evening has quite
restored my cheerfulness.

Matlock, October 12. This morning I was out soon after
sunrise ; again I walked round the church, remarked its
decaying state, and that of all the thatched roofs of the
humble cottages. I ascended the summit of the hill, cross-
ing a bridge which spanned a winding stream, and had a
lovely view of the country just lighted by the sun's first
beams, and returned to the inn, the Rutland Arms, in

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 137

time for the hour of departure, seven. The weather was
now somewhat fitful, but the road good, and the valley-
charming. We passed the seat of the Duke of Devonshire,
and Matlock opened to our eyes in all its beauty, the hills
dotted with cottages and gentlemen's seats, the autumnal
tints diversifying the landscape and enriching beautiful
nature ; the scenery reminds me of that part of America
on the river called the Clear Juniata. All is remarkably-
clean ; we rise slowly to more elevated ground, leave the
river and approach the New Baths Hotel, where our host,
Mr. Saxton, has breakfast ready. After this we took a
long walk, turning many times to view the delightful
scenery, though the weather had become quite rainy.
We visited the celebrated cave, each carrying a lighted
candle, and saw the different chambers containing rich
minerals and spars ; the walls in many places shone like
burnished steel. On our return, which was down-hill, I
heard with much pleasure the repeated note of the Jack-
daws that constantly flew from hole to hole along the
rocky declivities about us. After dinner, notwithstanding
the rain, we rowed in a boat down the stream, to a dam
and a waterfall, where we landed, walked through the
woods, gathered some beautiful mosses, and saw some Hares,
heard a Kestrell just as if in America, returned to our boat
and again rowed, but this time up-stream, and so left the
Derwent River.

Matlock, October 13. Still rainy, but I found a sheltered
spot, and made this sketch. We entered part of the
grounds of Sir Thomas Arkwright, saw his castle, his
church, and his meadows. The Rooks and Jackdaws were
over our heads by hundreds. The steep banks of the
Derwent were pleasantly covered with shrubby trees; the
castle on the left bank, on a fine elevation, is too regular
to be called (by me) well adapted to the rich natural
scenery about it. We passed along a canal, by a large
manufactory, and a coal-yard to the inn, the Crumford,

138 AUDUBON

and the rest of the day was employed in drawing. The
sketch I took was from "The Heights of Abraham," and
I copied it for Miss Hannah. About sunset we visited
the Rutland Cave, which surpassed all my expecta-
tions ; the natural chambers sparkled with brilliancy, and
lights were placed everywhere. I saw there some little
fishes which had not seen the daylight for three years, and
yet were quite sprightly. A certain portion of the roof
represented a very good head of a large tiger. I imitated,
at Mrs. Rathbone's request, the Owl's cry, and the Indian
yell. This latter music never pleased my fancy much,
and I well know the effects it produces previous to and
during an attack whilst the scalping knife is at work. We
had a pleasant walk back to the inn, for the evening was
calm and clear, and the moon shone brightly ; so after a
hasty tea we all made for the river, took a boat, and seated
ourselves to contemplate the peace around us. I rowed,
and sung many of the river songs which I learned in
scenes far from quiet Matlock.

Jilanc/ustcr, October I4, ^/''. Dockrays House, Hardwick.
By five o'clock this morning I was running by the Der-
went; cver}'thing was covered with sparkling congealed
dew. The fog arising from the little stream only per-
mitted us to see its waters when they made a ripple
against some rock. The vale was all mist, and had I not
known where I was, and heard the notes of the Jackdaws
above my head, I might have conceived myself walking
through a subterraneous passage. But the sun soon
began to dispel the mist, and gradually the tops of the
trees, the turrets of the castle, and the church pierced
through, and stood as if suspended above all objects
below. All was calm till a bell struck my ear, when I
soon saw the long files of women and little girls mov-
ing towards Arkwright's Mills. Almost immediately we
started for Bakcwell, and breakfasted at the Rutland
Arms. Proceeding we changed our route, and made

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 39

for the well known watering place, Buxton, still in Derby-
shire. The country here is barren, rocky, but so pictu-
resque that the want of trees is almost atoned for. The
road winds along a very narrow valley for several miles,
bringing a vast variety of detached views before us, all
extremely agreeable to the sight. The scantiness of
vegetable growth forces the cattle to risk much to obtain
food, and now and then when seeing a bull, on bent knee
with outstretched neck, putting out his tongue to seize
the few grasses hanging over the precipices, I was alarmed
for his safety. The Hawk here soars in vain ; after re-
peated rounds he is forced to abandon the dreary steep,
having espied only a swift Kingfisher. Suddenly the view
was closed, a high wall of rock seemed to put an end to
our journey, yet the chaise ran swiftly down-hill, and turn-
ing a sharp angle afforded delight to our eyes. Here we
alighted and walked to view the beauties around at our
leisure, and we reached the large inn, the Crescent,
where I met the American consul, my friend Mr. Maury,
who has visited this place regularly for twenty-five years.
We had what my friends called a luncheon ; I considered
it an excellent dinner, but the English eat heartily. On
our resuming our journey a fine drizzle set in, and as we
neared Manchester the air became thick with coal smoke,
the carts, coaches, and horsemen gradually filled the road,
faces became less clean and rosy, and the children had
none of the liveliness found amongst those in the Derby-
shire Hills. I dreaded returning to the town, yet these
days among the beauties of England in such delightful
society are enough to refresh one after years of labor.

Manchester^ October 15, Sunday. I went to the Unita-
rian Chapel to hear a sermon from the Rev. John Taylor,
but to my regret he had gone to preach elsewhere, and I
was obliged to content myself with another, — not quite so
practical a sermon as I care for. I dined and spent the
night at Mr. Bentley's ; after retiring to my room I was

140 AUDUBON

surprised at a knock; I opened my door and there stood
Mr. Bentley, who said he thought he heard me asking for
something as he passed by. I told him I prayed aloud
every night, as had been my habit from a child at my
mother's knees in Nantes. He said nothing for a moment,
then again wished me good-night, and was gone.

October 18. This evening I was to dine with Dr. Hulme
and (as he said) ''a few friends ;" so when at four
o'clock I entered his sitting-room, I was surprised to find
it filled with ladies and gentlemen, and felt awkward for a
moment. Some of my drawings were asked for, and at
five we went to dinner; after the ladies had retired, wine
and wit flowed till a late hour.

Quarry Bank, 12 miles from Manchester, October ig. At
five, my cane in hand, I made my way from Manchester,
bound on foot for Quarry Bank; the morning was pleasant
and I enjoyed my walk very much, but found myself quite
out of the right road; therefore, instead of twelve miles, I
measured sixteen, and was hungry enough when I reached
my destination. I was soon put at my drawing, and drew
the whole day; in the afternoon I began a sketch of Mr.
Gregg, and felt quite satisfied with my work, but not so
everybody else. Faults were found, suggestions made,
and I enjoyed the criticisms very much, especially those
of an Irish nephew of Mr. Gregg's, who, after several
comments, drew me confidentially aside, and asked who
it was intended to represent; after this, amid hearty
laughter, I concluded to finish it next day. Later we
took a walk and I entered a cottage where dwelt a
silk weaver; all was clean and well arranged, and I saw
the weaving going on for the first time since I left
France.

October 20. Drawing again all morning, and a walk
later. I was taken to a cottage, where to my great surprise
I saw t^vo cases of well stuffed birds, the work of the
weaver who lived in the cottage. I was taken to the dairy,

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 14I

where I saw the finest cattle I have yet met with in
England.

October 21. This has been a busy day. On my return
from Quarry Bank I saw Mr. Bentley, Mr. Heywood, and
other friends, Mr. H. gave me a letter to Professor Jame-
son, of Edinburgh. Called on Dr. Hulme; paid, in all,
twenty visits, and dined with Mr. Bentley,^ and with his as-
sistance packed up my birds safe and snug, though much
fatigued; it was late when we parted; he is a brother
Mason and has been most kind to me, I wrote down for
Mrs. Rathbone a brief memorandum of the flight of birds,
with a few little pencil sketches to make my figures more
interesting: Swallows, two and a half miles a minute;
Wild Pigeons, when travelling, two miles per minute ; Swans,
ditto two miles, Wild Turkeys, one mile and three quarters.

Manchester, October 23, 182G, Alonday. This day was ab-
solutely all spent packing and making ready for my start for
Edinburgh ; my seat in the coach taken and paid for, —
three pounds fifteen shillings. I spent my last evening
with Mr. Bentley and his family. As the coach leaves at
5 A. M., I am sleeping at the inn to be ready when called.
I am leaving Manchester much poorer than I was when I
entered it.

Carlisle, Tuesday, October 24-. The morning was clear
and beautiful, and at five I left Manchester ; but as no
dependence can be placed on the weather in this country,
I prepared for rain later. I was alone in the coach, and
had been regretting I had no companion, when a very tall
gentleman entered, but after a few words, he said he was
much fatigued and wished to sleep ; he composed himself
therefore and soon slept soundly. How I envied him !
We rolled on, however, and arrived at the village of
Preston, where we breakfasted as quickly as if we had
been Kentuckians. The coaches were exchanged, packages
transferred, and I entered the conveyance and met two

^ I believe Mr. Robert Bentley, the publisher.

142 AUDUBON

new gentlemen whose appearance I liked ; we soon com-
menced to chat, and before long were wandering all over
America, part of India, and the Atlantic Ocean. We dis-
cussed the emancipation of the slaves, and the starvation
of the poor in England, the Corn Law, and many other
topics, the while I looked frequently from the windows.
The approach to Lancaster is beautiful ; the view of the
well placed castle is commanding, and the sea view bounded
by picturesque shores. VVc dined at Kendal, having passed
through Bolton and Burton, but before this my two inter-
esting companions had been left behind at a place where
we stopped to change horses, and only caught up with the
coach by running across some fields. This caused much
altercation between them, the driver, and the guard ; one of
the proprietors of the coach who was on board interfered,
and being very drunk made matters worse, and a complaint
was lodged against driver and guard. The tall gentleman
was now wide awake; he introduced himself as a Mr.
Walton, and knew the other gentlemen, who were father and
son, the Messrs. Patison from Cornwall ; all were extremely
polite to me, a stranger in their land, but so have I ever
found the tnie English gentleman.

Wc now entered a most dreary country, poor beyond
description, immense rolling hills in constant succession,
dotted here and there with miserable cots, the residences of
poor shepherds. No game was seen, the weather was
bleak and rainy, and I cannot say that I now enjoyed the
ride beyond the society of my companions. We passed
through Penrith and arrived at Carlisle at half-past nine,
having ridden one hundred and twenty-two miles, I was
told that in hard winters the road became impassable, so
choked with snow, and that when not entirely obstructed
it was customary to see posts painted black at the top,
every hundred yards or so, to point out the road surely.
We had a miserable supper, but good beds, and I enjoyed
mine, for I felt very wearied, my cold and cough having

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 143

been much increased from my having ridden outside the
coach some thirty miles, to see the country.

Edinburgh, Scotland, October 25, Weducsday. We
breakfasted at Carlisle, left there at eight, but I was sadly
vexed at having to pay twelve shillings for my trunk and
portfolio, as I had been positively assured at Manchester
that no further charge would be made. For perhaps ten
miles we passed through an uncommonly flat country,
meandering awhile along a river, passed through a village
called Longtown, and entered Scot/and at ten minutes
before ten. I was then just six miles from the spot where
runaway matches are rendered lawful. The country
changed its aspect, and became suddenly quite woody;
we ran along, and four times crossed a beautiful little
stream like a miniature Mohawk; many little rapids were
seen in its windings. The foliage was about to fall, and
looked much as it does with us about our majestic western
streams, only much less brilliant. This scenery, however,
lasted only one stage of perhaps twelve miles, and again we
entered country of the same dreariness as yesterday, mere
burnt mountains, which were not interesting. The number
of sheep grazing on these hills was very great, and they
all looked well, though of a very small species; many of
them had black heads and legs, the body white, with no
horns ; others with horns, and still others very small,
called here " Cheviots." The shepherds were poor,
wrapped up in a thin piece of plaid, and did not seem of
that noble race so well painted by Sir Walter Scott. I
saw the sea again to-day. We dined at Hawick on ex-
cellent sea fish, and for the first time in my life, I tasted
Scotch whiskey. It appeared very potent, so after a few
sips I put it down, and told Mr. Patison I suspected his
son of wishing to make me tipsy ; to which he replied that
probably it was to try if I would in such a case be as
good-natured as I was before. I took this as quite a com-
pliment and forgave the son. The conversation at dinner

144 AUDUBON

was very agreeable, several Scotch gentlemen having
joined us ; some of them drank their native whiskey pure,
as if water, but I found it both smoky and fiery; so much
for habit. We passed through Selkirk, having driven
nearly the whole day through the estates of the young

Duke of , a young fellow of twenty who passes his

days just now shooting Black-cock ; he has something like
two hundred thousand pounds per annum. Some of the
shepherds on this astonishing estate have not probably more
than two hundred pounds of oatmeal, a terrible contrast.
We passed so near Sir Walter Scott's seat that I stood up
and stretched my neck some inches to see it, but in vain,
and who knows if I shall ever see the home of the man to
whom I am indebted for so much pleasure? We passed a
few miles from Melrose ; I had a great wish to see the old
abbey, and the gentleman to whom Dr. Ruttcr had given
me a letter, but the coach rolled on, and at ten o'clock I
entered this splendid city. I have seen yet but a very
small portion of it. and that by gaslight, yet I call it a
splendid city ! The coach stopped at the Black Bull
Hotel, but it was so full no room could be procured, so we
had our baggage taken to the Star. The clerk, the guard,
the driver, all swore at my baggage, and said that had I
not paid at Carlisle, I would have been charged more here.
Now it is true that my trunk is large and heavy, and so is
the portfolio I carry with me, but to give an idea of the
charges and impositions connected with these coaches
(or their owners) and the attendants, remark the price I
paid; to begin with, —

at Manchester, .£3 15 00,

at Carlisle, 12 oo, and during the

two days to drivers and guards, 18 06,

£5 5 06,

nearly twenty-seven dollars in our money for two days'
travellinjr from Manchester to Edinburgh. It is not so

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 45

much the general amount, ahhougli I am sure it is quite
enough for two hundred and twelve miles, but the beggarl}-
manners used to obtain about one half of it; to see a fel-
low with a decent coat on, who calls himself an independent
free-born Englishman, open the door of the coach every
ten or twelve miles, and beg for a shilling each time, is
detestable, and quite an abuse ; but this is not all : they
never are satisfied, and if you have the appearance of
wealth about you, they hang on and ask for more. The
porters here were porters indeed, carrying all on their
backs, the first I have seen in this island. At the Star we
had a good supper, and chatted a long time, and it was
near one before the Messrs. Patison and I parted ; Mr.
Walton had gone on another course. I thought so much
of the multitude of learned men that abound in this place,
that I dreaded the delivery of my letters to-morrow.

George St., Edinburgh, Oetober 2G. It was ten o'clock
when I breakfasted, because I wished to do so with the
Patisons, being so much pleased with their company. I was
much interested in the different people in the room, which
was quite full, and the waiters were kept skipping about
with the nimblencss of Squirrels. My companions, who
knew Edinburgh well, offered to accompany me in search of
lodgings, and we soon entered the second door in George
Street, and in a few minutes made an arrangement with
Mrs. Dickie for a fine bedroom and a well furnished sitting-
room. I am to pay her one guinea per week, which I
considered low, as the situation is fine, and the rooms
clean and comfortable. I can see, from where I am now
writing, the Frith, and the boats plying on it. I had my
baggage brought by a man with a tremendous beard, who
imposed on me most impudently by bringing a brass shil-
ling, which he said he would swear I had given him. I
gave him another, threw the counterfeit in the fire, and
promised to myself to pay some little attention hereafter
to what kind of money I give or receive. I walked to
VOL. I. — 10

146 AUDUBON

Professor Jameson's^ in the Circus, — not at home; to
James Hall, Advocate, 128 George St., — absent in the
country. Dr. Charles Henry of the Royal Infirmary was
sought in vain, Dr. Thompson was out also, and Professor
Duncan 2 could not be seen until six o'clock. I only saw
Dr. Knox in Surgeon's Square, and Professor Jameson at
the college. This latter received me, I thought, rather
coolly; said that Sir Walter Scott was now quite a recluse,
and was busy with a novel and the Life of Napoleon, and
that probably I should not see him. " Not see Walter
Scott f thought I ; " I SHALL, if I have to crawl on all-fours
for a mile ! " But I was a good deal surprised when he
added it would be several da)'s before lie could pay me a
visit, that his business was large, and must be attended to;
but I could not complain, as I am bent on doing the same
towards myself; and besides, why should I expect any
other line of conduct? I have been spoiled by the ever-to-
be-remcmbered families of Roscoes and Rathbones. Dr.
Knox came at once to see me, dressed in an overgown
and with bloody fingers. He bowed, washed his hands,
read Dr. Traill's letter, and promised me at once to do
all in his power for me and my drawings, and said he
would bring some scientific friends to meet me, and to
examine my drawings. Dr. Knox is a distinguished anat-
omist, and a great student; Professor Jameson's special
science is mineralogy. I walked a good deal and admired
the city very much, the great breadth of the streets, the
good pavements and footways, the beautiful buildings,
their natural gray coloring, and wonderful cleanliness ; per-
haps all was more powerfully felt, coming direct from dirty

* Robert Jameson, the eminent Scotch naturalist, 1774-1854. Regius
Professor of Natural History in the University of Edinburgh. Founder of
the Wemerian Society of that city, and with Sir David Brewster originated
the " Edinburgh Philosophical Review." Wrote many works on geology and
mineralogy.

- Andrew Duncan, M. D., 1745-1828. Lecturer in the University of
Edinburgh.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 147

Manchester, but the picturesqueness of the toute ensemble
is wonderful. A high castle here, another there, on to a
bridge whence one looks at a second city below, here a
rugged mountain, and there beautiful public grounds,
monuments, the sea, the landscape around, all wonderfully-
put together indeed ; it would require fifty different views
at least to give a true idea, but I will try from day to day
to describe what I may see, either in the old or new part
of the town. I unpacked my birds and looked at them
with pleasure, and yet with a considerable degree of fear
that they would never be published. I felt very much
alone, and many dark thoughts came across my mind ; I
felt one of those terrible attacks of depression to which I
so often fall a prey overtaking me, and I forced myself to
go out to destroy the painful gloom that I dread at all
times, and of which I am sometimes absolutely afraid.
After a good walk I returned more at ease, and looked at
a pair of stuffed pheasants on a large buffet in my present
sitting-room, at the sweetly scented geraniums opposite to
them, the black hair-cloth sofa and chairs, the little cherubs
on the mantelpiece, the painted landscape on my right
hand, and the mirror on my left, in which I saw not only
my own face, but such strong resemblance to that of my
venerated father that I almost imagined it was he that I
saw ; the thoughts of my mother came to me, my sister, my
young days, — all was at hand, yet how far away. Ah ! how
far is even the last moment, that is never to return again.
Edinburgh, October 27, 1826. I visited the market this
morning, but to go to it I first crossed the New Town into
the Old, over the north bridge, went down many flights of
winding steps, and when at the desired spot was positively
under the bridge that has been built to save the trouble of
descending and mounting from one side of Edinburgh to
the other, the city being mostly built on the slopes of
two long ranges of high, broken hills. The vegetable mar-
ket was well arranged, and looked, as did the sections for

148 AUDUBON

meats and fruits, attractive; but the situation, and the nar-
row booths in which the articles were exhibited, was, com-
pared with the Liverpool market, nothing. I ascended the
stairs leading to the New Town, and after turning to the
right, saw before me the monument in honor of Nelson,
to which I walked. Its elevated situation, the broken,
rocky way along which I went, made it very picturesque ;
but a tremendous shower of rain accompanied by a heavy
gust of cold wind made me hurry from the spot before I
had satisfied myself, and I returned Jiomc to breakfast. I was
struck with the resemblance of the women of the lower
classes to our Indian squaws. Their walk is precisely the
same, and their mode of carrying burdens also ; they have
a leather strap passed over the forehead attached to large
baskets without covers, and waddle through the streets,
just like the Shawanees, for instance. Their complexion, if
fair, is beyond rosy, partaking, indeed, of purple —dull, and
disagreeable. If dark, they are dark indeed. Many of
the men wear long whiskers and beards, and are extremely
uncouth in manners, and still more so in language. I had
finished breakfast when Messrs. Patison came to see my
drawings, and brought with them a Miss Ewart, who was
said to draw beautifully. She looked at one drawing after
another, but remained mute till I came to the doves ; she
exclaimed at this, and then told me she knew Sir Walter
Scott well, " and," she added, " he will be delighted to
see your magnificent collection." Later I called again at
Dr. Thompson's, but as he was not at home, left the letter
and my card ; the same at Professor Duncan's. I then
walked to the fish market, where I found Patrick Neill, Esq.,^
at his desk, after having passed between two long files of
printers at their work. Mr. Neill shook hands cordially,
gave me his home address, promised to come and see me,
and accompanied me to the street, begging me not to visit

1 Patrick Neill, 1776-1851, Scottish naturalist and horticulturalist. Was
a printer in Edinburgh at this time.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 149

the Museum until Professor Jameson had sent me a gen-
eral ticket of admission. I went then to the Port of Leith,
distant not quite three miles, but missing my way, reached
the Frith of Forth at Trinity, a small village on the bay,
from whence I could see the waters of the German Ocean ;
the shore opposite was distant about seven miles, and
looked naked and hilly. During my walk I frequently
turned to view the beautiful city behind me, rising in grad-
ual amphitheatre, most sublimely backed by mountainous
clouds that greatly improved the whole. The wind was
high, the waters beat the shore violently, the vessels at an-
chor pitched, — all was grand. On inquiry I found this
was no longer an admiral's station, and that in a few more
weeks the steamboats that ply between this and London,
and other parts of the north of this island, would stop
their voyages, the ocean being too rough during the winter
season. I followed along the shores, and reached Leith in
about twenty minutes. I saw a very pretty iron jetty with
three arches, at the extremity of which vessels land pas-
sengers and freight. Leith is a large village apparently,
mostly connected with Hamburg and the seaports of
Holland. Much business is going on. I saw here great
numbers of herring-boats and the nets for capturing these
fishes; also some curious drags for oysters, clams, and
other shellfish. The docks are small, and contain mostly
Dutch vessels, none of them large. An old one is fitted
up as a chapel for mariners. I w^aited till after sunset be-
fore returning to my lodgings, when I told my landlady I
was going to the theatre, that I might not be locked out,
and went off to see " Rob Roy." The theatre not opening
till half-past six, I spent some little time in a bookseller's
shop, reading an account of the Palace and Chapel of
Holyrood. The pit, where I sat, was crowded with gen-
tlemen and ladies ; for ladies of the second class go to
the pit, the superior classes to the boxes, and those of
neither class way above. The house is small but well

150 AUDUBON

lighted. " God save the King " was the overture, and
every one rose uncovered. " Rob Roy " was represented
as if positively in the Highlands; the characters were nat-
ural, the scenery perfectly adapted, the dress and manners
quite true to the story. I may truthfully say that I saw a
good picture of the great outlaw, his Ellen, and the unre-
lenting Dougal. I would, were it possible, always see
" Rob Roy" in Edinburgh, " Le Tartuffe " in Paris, and
*' She Stoops to Conquer " in England. ** Rob Roy," as
exhibited in America, is a burlesque; we do not even
know how the hardy mountaineer of this rigid country
throws on his plaid, or wears his cap or his front piece,
beautifully made of several tails of the red deer; neither
can we render the shrill tone of the horn bugle that hangs
at his side, the merry bagpipe is wanted, also the scenery.
I would just as soon see "Le Tartuffe" in broken French,
by a strolling company, as to see " Rob Roy" again as I
have seen it in Kentucky. It is almost to be regretted
that each country does not keep to its own productions;
to do otherwise only leads to fill our minds with ideas far
different from the truth. I did not stay to see " Rosina; "
though I liked Miss Stephens pretty well, yet she is by no
means equal to Miss Foote.

Edinburgh, October 28, 1826. To-day I have visited the
Royal Palace of Holyrood ; it is both interesting and curi-
ous, especially the chapel and the rooms where the present
King of France resided during his exile. I find Professor
Jameson is engaged with Mr. Selby^and others in a large
ornithological publication, and Mr, Ed. Roscoe has written,
suggesting that I try to connect myself with them; but my
independent spirit does not turn to the idea with any
pleasure, and I think if my work deserves the attention of
the public, it must stand on its own legs, not on the repu-
tation of men superior in education and literary acquire-

1 Prideaux John Selby, English ornithologist, author of "British
Birds " and other works ; died 1S67.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 151

ments, but possibly not so in the actual observation of Nature
at her best, in the wilds, as I certainly have seen her,

October 29, Sunday. With the exception of the short
walk to the post-office with my letters, I have been as
busy as a bee all day, for I have written much. Yester-
day at ten Messrs. Patison brought twelve ladies and the
Messrs. Thomas and John Todd of this city to see my
drawings ; they remained full two hours. Professor Dun-
can came in and was truly a kind friend. After my com-
pany had left, and I had been promised several letters for
Sir Walter Scott, I took a walk, and entered a public gar-
den, where I soon found myself a prisoner, and where,
had I not found a pretty maid who took pity on my
^tourderie, I certainly would have felt very awkward, as I
had neither letter nor pocket-book to show for my identi-
fication. I then went in search of a Scotch pebble ; one
attracted me, but a boy in the shop said his father could
make one still handsomer. I wanted not pebbles made by
man, I wanted them the result of nature, but I enquired
of the lad how they were made. Without hesitation the
boy answered: "by fire-heat, and whilst the pores of the
pebbles are open colored infusions are impregnated."
Now what will not man do to deceive his brother? I
called on Mr. Jeffrey,^ who was not in; he comes from
his Hall, two and a half miles off, every day for two hours,
from two to four o'clock ; therefore I entered his sanctum
sanctorum, sealed the letter, and wrote on my card that I
would be happy to see him. What a mass of books,
papers, portfolios, dirt, beautiful paintings, engravings,
casts, with such parcels of unopened packages all di-
rected " Francis Jeffrey, Esq." Whilst I looked at this
mass I thought. What have / done, compared with what
this man has done, and has to do? I much long to see
the famous critic. As I came away my thoughts reverted to

1 Lord Francis Jeffrey, 1773-1850, the distinguished Scottish critic and
essayist.

152 AUDUBON

Holyrood Palace. What a variety of causes has brought
king after king to that spot; what horrors have been com-
mitted there ! The general structure is not of a defensive
nature; it lies in a valley, and has simply its walls to guard
it. I was surprised that the narrow stairs which led to the
small chamber where the murder was committed, com-
municated at once with the open country, and I was also
astonished to see that the mirrors were positively much
superior to those of the present day in point of intrinsic
purity of reflection ; the plates cannot be less than three-
fourths of an inch in thickness. The furniture is all de-
caying fast, as well as the paintings which are set into the
walls. The great room for the King's audience contains a
throne by no means corresponding with the ideas dc luxe
that I had formed. The room, however, being hung in
scarlet clotii, had a \'cry warm effect, and I remember
it with pleasure. I also recall the view I then had from a
high hill, of the whole city of Edinburgh and the country
around the sea; the more I look on Edinburgh the better
I like it. To-day, as I have said, I have been in my rooms
constantly, and after much writing received Dr. Knox and
a friend of his. The former pronounced my drawings the
finest of their kind in the world. No light praise this.
They promised to see that I was presented to the Wcr-
nerian Society, and talked very scientifically, indeed quite
too much so for the poor man of the woods. They as-
sured me the ornithological work now about being pub-
lished by Messrs, " Selby, Jameson, and Sir Somebody^
and Co.," was a "job book." It is both amusing and dis-
tressing to see how inimical to each other men of science
are ; and why are they so ?

October 30. Mr. Neill took me to a Mr. Lizars,^ in
St. James Square, the engraver for Mr. Selby, who came

1 Sir William Jardine.

2 W. H. Lizars, the engraver who made a few of the earliest plates of
the " Birds of America."

THE EUROPEAN JOURXALS 1 53

with us to see my work. As we walked along under an
umbrella he talked of nothing else than the astonishing
talent of his employer, how quickly he drew and how well,
until we reached my lodgings. I lost hope at every step,
and I doubt if I opened my lips. I slowly unbuckled my
portfolio, placed a chair for him, and with my heart like a
stone held up a drawing. Mr. Lizars rose from his seat,
exclaiming: "My God! I never saw anything like this
before." He continued to be delighted and astonished,
and said Sir William Jardine ^ must see them, and that he
would write to him ; that Mr. Selby must see them ; and
when he left at dark he went immediately to Mr. Wm.
Heath, an artist from London, who came at once to see
me. I had gone out and missed him ; but he left a note.
Not knowing who he might be, I went to see him, up three
pairs of stairs, a V artisan ; met a brunette who was Mrs.
Heath, and a moment after the gentleman himself We
talked together, he showed me some of his work and will
call on me to-morrow.

October 31. So at last Professor Jameson has called on
me ! That warm-hearted Mr. Lizars brought him this
morning, just as I was finishing a letter to Victor. He
was kind to me, very kind, and yet I do not understand
the man clearly; he has a look quite above my reach, I
must acknowledge, but I am to breakfast with him to-
morrow at nine. He says he will, with my permission,
announce my work to the world, and I doubt not I shall
find him an excellent friend. Dr. Thompson's sons came
in, tall, slender, and well-looking, made an apology for
their father, and invited me to breakfast on Thursday;
and young Dr. Henry called and also invited me to break-
fast. Mr. Patrick Symes, a learned Scotchman, was with
me a long time, and my morning was a very agreeable
one within, though outside it was cold and rained. Edin-

^ Scottish naturalist, 1S00-1S74. Published " Naturalists' Library " and
other works.

154 AUDUBON

burgh even in the rain, for I took a walk, is surprisingly
beautiful, picturesque, romantic; I am delighted with it.
Mr. Lizars has invited me to call at nine to spend the
evening with him ; now I call it much more as if going to
spend the night. I met Mrs. Lizars when I stopped at
his house for a moment to-day; she is the first lady to
whom I have been introduced here, and is a very beauti-
ful one. Eleven and a half o'clock and I have just returned
from Mr. Lizars, where my evening has been extremely
pleasant. I have seen some of Mr. Selby's original draw-
ings, and some of Sir William Jardine's, and I no longer
feel afraid. But I must to rest, for I hate late hours and
love to be up before daylight.

November 1. I breakfasted at Professor Jameson's.
A most splendid house, splendid everything, breakfast to
boot. The professor wears his hair in three distinct, dif-
ferent courses; when he sits fronting the south, for
instance, the hair on his forehead bends westwardly, the
hair behind castwardl)', and the very short hair on top
mounts directly upward, perhaps somewhat like the quills
of the " fretful porcupine." But never mind the ornamen-
tal, external appendages of his skull, the sense zvitJiin is
great, and full of the nobleness which comes from a kind,
generous heart. Professor Jameson to-day is no more
the man I took him to be when I first met him. He
showed me an uncommon degree of cordiality, and prom-
ised me his powerful assistance so forcibly that I am sure
I can depend upon him. I left him and his sister at ten,
as we both have much to do besides talking, and drinking
hot, well creamed coffee; but our separation was not long,
for at noon he entered my room with several gentlemen
to see my drawings. Till four I was occupied showing
one picture after another, holding each one at arm's-length,
and was very tired, and my left arm once I thought had
an idea of revolutionizing. When my guests had gone I
walked out, took plenty of needed exercise, often hearing

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 155

remarks about myself such as "That's a German physi-
cian ; " " There 's a French nobleman." I ended my walk at
Mr. Lizars', and while with him expressed a wish to secure
some views of beautiful Edinburgh; he went to another
room and brought in a book of views for me to look
at, which I did with interest. He then asked me to draw
something for him, and as I finished a vignette he pushed
the book of superb Edinburgh towards me; on the first
leaf he had written, " To John J. Audubon, as a very im-
perfect expression of the regard entertained for his abilities
as an artist, and for his worth as a friend, by William H.
Lizars, engraver of the ' Views of Edinburgh.' " I saw
— though by gas-light — some of Mr. Lizars' work, print-
ing from copper, coloring with water-color and oils, etc.,
on the same, for the first time in my life. How little I
know ! how ignorant I am ! but I will learn. I went to
bed after reading Sir Walter's last novel till I was so
pleased with the book that I put it under my pillow to
dream about, as children do at Christmas time ; but my
dreams all went another way and I dreamed of the beech
woods in my own dear land.

November 2, Thursday. I drew the bell at the door of
No. 80 George Street, where lives Dr. Thompson, just as
the great bell of St. Andrews struck nine, and we soon sat
down to breakfast. Dr. Thompson is a good, and good-
looking man, and extremely kind ; at the table were also
his wife, daughter, son, and another young gentleman;
and just as my second cup of coffee was handed to me a
certain Dr. Fox entered with the air of an old friend, and
at once sat down. He had been seventeen years in
France, and speaks the language perfectly, of course.
After having spoken somev/hat about the scrubbiness of
the timber here, and the lofty and majestic trees of my
country dear, I rose to welcome Mrs. Lizars, who came in
with her husband and some friends. Mr. Lizars had not
seen one of my largest drawings; he had been enamoured

156 AUDUBON

with the Mocking-birds and Rattle-snake, but, Lucy, the
Turkeys — her brood, the pose of the Cock Turkey — the
Hawk pouncing on seventeen Partridges, the Wliooping
Crane devouring alhgators newly born — at these he ex-
claimed again and again. All were, he said, wonderful
productions; he wished to engrave the Partridges; but
when the Great-footed Hawks came with bloody rags at
their beaks' ends, and cruel delight in the glance of their
daring eyes, he stopped mute an instant, then said, " That
I will engrave and publish," We were too numerous a
party to transact business then, and the subject was ad-
journed. Fatigued and excited by this, I wrote for some
hours, and at four walked out and paid my respects to
young Dr. Henry at the Infirmary, — a nice young man, —
and at five I found myself at Mr. Lizars', who at once
began on the topic of my drawings, and asked why I did
not publicly exhibit them. I told him how kind and
generous the Institution at Liverpool had been, as well as
Mancliestcr, and that I had a letter of thanks from the
Committees. He returned with me to my lodgings, read
the letter, and we marched arm in arm from Mrs. Dickie's
to Professor Jameson, who kept the letter, so he said, to
make good use of it ; I showed Mr. Lizars other letters
of recommendation, and as he laid down the last he said :
" Mr. Audubon, the people here don't know who you are
at all, but depend upon it they shall know." We then
talked of the engraving of the Hawks, and it seems that it
will be done. Perhaps even yet fame may be mine, and
enable me to provide all that is needful for my Lucy and
my children. Wealth I do not crave, but comfort ; and
for my boys I have the most ardent desire that they may
receive the best of education, far above any that I possess;
and day by day science advances, new thoughts and new
ideas crowd onward, there is always fresh food for enjoy-
ment, study, improvement, and I must place them where
all this may be a possession to them.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 57

November 3, Friday. My birds were visited by many
persons this day, among whom were some ladies, artists,
of both ability and taste, and with the numerous gentle-
men came Professor James Wilson,^ a naturalist, an agree-
able man, who invited me to dine at his cottage next
week. Mr. Lizars, who is certainly inon ban cJicval de
bataille, is exerting himself greatly in my behalf. At half-
past three good Mr. Neill came, and together we walked
towards his little hermitage, a sweet spot, quite out of
town ; nice garden, hot-house filled with exotics, and
house-walls peopled by thousands of sparrows secure in
the luxuriant masses of ivy that only here and there suffer
the eye to see that the habitat is of stone. The Heron's
sharp lance lay on his downy breast while he balanced
on one leg, silent and motionless ; the Kittiwakc Gull
screamed for food ; the Cormorant greedily swallowed it;
whilst the waddling Gannet welcomed her master by
biting his foot, the little Bantams and the great rooster
leaped for the bread held out, the faithful Pigeon cooed
to his timid mate, and the huge watch-dog rubbed
against the owner's legs with joy. We entered the house,
other guests were there, and full of gayety we sat down to
a sumptuous dinner. Eyes sparkled with wit, sense,
knowledge. Mr. Combe ^ who was present has a head
quite Hke our Henry Clay. My neighbor, Mr. Bridges, ^ is
all life ; but after a few observations concerning the birds
of our woods he retired to let the world know that many
of them are arrived in Scotland. It is unanimously agreed
that I must sit for my portrait to Mr. Syme,* and that
friend Lizars must engrave it to be distributed abroad.
On my return to my lodgings I was presented with some

^ James \Yilson, brother of Professor John Wilson (Christopher North),
naturalist and scientific writer, 1795-1S56.

- George Combe, an eminent phrenologist and author on that subject.
Bom and died in Edinburgh, 178S-1856.

^ David Bridges, editor of one of the Edinburgh newspapers.

* John Syme. His portrait of Audubon was the first one ever engraved.

158 AUDUBON

pears and apples of native growth, somewhat bigger than
green peas ; but ah ! this is both ungrateful and discour-
teous. To-morrow I am to meet Lord Somebody, and
Miss Stephens; she was called "that delicious actress"
so fervently and so frequently by my learned friends
that I reverse my judgment, or will at least suspend it,
until I see more of her.

November 4., Saturday. Now had I the faculties of my
good friend Mr. Bridges, I should be able to write all that
I feel towards him and the good people of this romantic
Edina's Academic Halls; I would set to, and write long
accounts of all I haye enjoyed this day. But, alas ! poor
me! I can only scratch a few words next to unintelligible,
and simply say that my little room has been full all day of
individuals good, great, and friendly, and I am very wearied
to-night; it is now past one. I dined at Mr. Lizars', where
were beauties, music, conviviality, and wit. I am working
hard withal; I do with four hours' sleep, keep up a great
correspondence, keep up my journal, and write many hours
on the letter-press for my " Birds," which is almost done.

November 5, Sunday. At ten o'clock my room was
filled with visitors. Friend Bridges came, and stayed a
long time. Miss Stephens the actress and her brother
also paid me a visit. Mr. Bridges insisted on my going
home to dine with him at four, and I never perceived I
was in my slippers till I reached the port of destination.
A Mr. Hovey dined with us. Mrs. Bridges is a stately,
handsome lady, and the diuer en famillc pleased me
exceedingly. I saw quite a stock of pictures and engrav-
ings, well selected by my knowing friend. I returned
home early and found a note from Mr. John Gregg, who
came himself later bringing me a scrubby letter from
Charles VVaterton,^ and a sweet little sketch from fair Ellen
of Quarry Bank. I was delighted to see him ; it seemed

^ Charles Waterton, English naturalist and traveller, 1782-1865, — al-
ways an enemy of Audubon's.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 59

like old times to me. With all this I am by no means
in spirits to write, I am so alone in this strange land,
so far from those I love the best, and the future rises
ofttimes dark before me.

Monday, November 6. The same sad heart to-day, and
but little work and much company. I was glad, however,
to see those who came, among others my coach com-
panion from Manchester, Mr. Walton, who invited me
in a very friendly manner to see him often. It snowed
this morning, and was quite a new sight to me, for I have
not seen any for about five years — I think. The papers
give such accounts of my drawings and of myself that
I am quite ashamed to walk the streets ; but I am dis-
pirited and melancholy.

Sunday, November 19. I do not know when I have thus
pitilessly put away my journal for nearly two weeks. My
head and heart would not permit me to write, so I must
try to incmorajiduin now all I have seen. What I have
felt is too much for me to write down, for when these
attacks of depression overwhelm me life is almost unen-
durable. Every day I exhibited my drawings to those
who came to see them. I had many noblemen, among
whom I especially liked Sir Patrick Walker and his lady;
but I welcomed all ladies, gentlemen, artists, and, I dare
say, critics. At last the Committee of the Royal Institu-
tion invited me to exhibit publicly in their rooms; I owe
this invitation, I know, to the astonishing perseverance
of some unknown friends. When my pictures were re-
moved there I was no longer "At Home." I painted
from dawn to dark, closely, and perhaps more attentively
than I ever have done before. The picture was large,
contained a Turkey Cock, a hen, and nine young, all the
size of life. Mr. Lizars and his amiable wife visited me
often ; often I spent the evenings with them. Mr. David
Bridges, Mr. Cameron, and several others had regular
admittance, and they all saw the regular progress of my

l6o AUDUBON

work ; all, apparently, admired it. I dined at many houses,
was always kindly received, and as far as my isolated
condition and unfortunate melancholy permitted, enjoyed
myself. It was settled by Mr. Lizars that he would under-
take the publication of the first number of the " Birds of
America," and that was enough to put all my powers
of acting and thinking at fever heat. The papers also
began to be more eulogistic of the merits of myself and
my productions, and I felt bewildered with alternate uncer-
tainties of hope and fear. I have received many letters
from my dear Liverpool friends, and one, most precious
of all, from the wonderful "Queen Bee" of Green Bank,
with a most beautiful seal of the Wild Turkey and the
motto " America, my country." ^ When my drawings
were exhibited to the public, professors, students, artists,
spoke well of them. I forwarded by post seventy-five
tickets to the principal persons who had been kind to me,
and to all the artists in Edinburgh. I sat once for my
portrait, but my picture kept me at home ever since.
I saw, and dined, and dined again with Sir William
Jardinc, and like him very much. He visited me fre-
quently, and sat and stood watching me painting during
his stay in the city. The famous phrenologist George
Combe visited me also; spoke much of the truth of
his theory as exhibited and verified by my poor skill;
begged I would allow a cast of my head to be taken,
etc., etc., and sent me a card of admission to his lectures
this winter. The famous Professor Wilson of " Blackwood "
fame, I might almost say the author of " Blackwood's
Magazine," visited me also, and was very friendly; indeed,
every one is kind, most truly so. How proud I feel that
in Edinburgh, the seat of learning, science, and solidity
of judgment, I am liked, and am received so kindly. How
much I wish my Lucy could also enjoy it, that our sons

* This seal Audubon always used afterwards, and it is still in the posses-
sion of the family.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS l6r

might have partaken of it, this would have rendered each
moment an age of pleasure. I have now determined to
remain here till my first number is published, when I shall
go to Liverpool again, with proofs in hand. I will forward
some of this number to the friends at home as well as
abroad, and will continue painting here the while, and watch
the progress of the engravers and colorists ; two drawings
are now under the hand of the engraver, and God grant
me success. I am going to try to find time to spend
a week at Jardine Hall, and some days at Mrs. Fletcher's ;
it will remove me from the pressure and excitement to
which I am hourly subjected, and be a complete change
for me in every way.

November 20. Whilst my breakfast was preparing, and
daylight improving, I sat at my little table to write a
notice of descriptive import about my painting of the
Wild Turkeys that now leaned against the wall of my
room, finished. My breakfast came in, but my pen car-
ried me along the Arkansas River, and so much did I long
for my beloved country that not a morsel could I swallow.
While writing, Mr. Bridges, who usually pays me a daily
visit, happened to come in. I read my description and told
him it was my intention to have it printed, or written out
in a clear hand, to lay on the table of the exhibition room,
for the use of the public. He advised me to go to Pro-
fessor Wilson for criticism ; so I went at once to his resi-
dence, and reached " Blackwood's " door about ten o'clock.
I did not even ask if Professor Wilson was in; no, I simply
told the man to say Mr. Audubon from America wished
to speak with him. In a moment I was conducted to a
room where I wished that all that had been written in it
was my own to remember, to enjoy, to profit by ; but I
had not been here many minutes before a sweet child, a
happy daughter of this great man, asked me to go up-
stairs, saying, " Papa will be there in a minute ; " and truly,
almost at once the Professor came in, with freedom and

VOL. I. 11

1 62 AUDUBON

kindness of manner, life in his eye, and benevolence in
his heart. My case was soon explained ; he took my
paper, read it, and said if I would allow him to keep it,
he would make one or two alterations and return it in
good time. Back to my lodgings and hungry by this
time, and cooled off, my mind relieved, my painting
finished, I dressed more carefully and walked to the
Royal Institution, and was pleased at seeing there a good
deal of company. But the disagreeable part of my day
is yet to come. I had to dine at Professor Graham's,^ it
was five o'clock when I reached there, a large assembly
of ladies and gentlemen were there, and I was intro-
duced to Mrs. Graham only, by some oversight I am sure,
but none the less was my position awkward. There I
stood, motionless as a Heron, and when I dared, gazed
about mc at my surroundings, but no one came near me.
There I stood and thought of the concert at Manchester ;
but there was this difference : there I was looked at rudely,
here I was with polite compan\' ; so I waited patiently for
a change of situation, and the change came. A woman,
aye, an angel, spoke to me in such a quiet, easy way that in
a few moments vay mal aisc was gone; then the ringing
of a bell summoned us to the dining-room ; I sat near the
blue satin lady (for her name I do not know) who came

to my rescue, and a charming young lady, Miss M , was

my companion. But the sumptuous dinners of this coun-
try are too much for me. They are so long, so long, that
I recall briefer meals that I have had, with much more
enjoyment than I eat the bountiful fare before me. This
is not a gouter with friend Bourgeat on the Flat Lake,
roasting the orange-fleshed Ibis, and a few sun-perch ;
neither is it on the heated banks of Thompson's Creek, on
the Fourth of July, swallowing the roasted eggs of a large
Soft-shelled Turtle ; neither was I at Henderson, at good

1 Robert Graham, Scottish physician and botanist, born at Stirling, 1786,
died at Edinburgh, 1845.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 163

Dr. Rankin's, listening to the bowlings of the Wolves,
while sitting in security, eating well roasted and jellied
venison, — no, alas! it was far from all these dear spots,
in Great King Street, No. 62, at Dr. Graham's, a dis-
tinguished professor of botany, with a dinner of so many
rich dishes that I cannot remember them.

November 2Jf. I have just finished a long letter to Mr.
VVm. Rathbone, telling him of my reception in beautiful
Edinburgh, and my present plans, which are to publish
one number at my own expense and risk, and with it
under my arm, make my way. If I can procure three
hundred good substantial names of persons or associa-
tions or institutions, I cannot fail doing well for my family ;
but, to do this, I must abandon my life to its success, and
undergo many sad perplexities, and perhaps never again
— certainly not for some years — see my beloved Amer-
ica. The work, from what I have seen of Mr. Lizars'
execution, will be equal to anything in the world at
present, and of the rest the world must judge for itself.
I shall superintend both engraving and coloring per-
sonally, and I pray my courage may not fail ; my industry
I know will not. It is true the work will be procured only
at a great expense, but then, a number of years must
elapse before it is completed, so that renders payment an
easier task. This is what I shall try ; if I do not succeed
I can return to my woods and there in peace and quiet
live and die. I am sorry that some of my friends, particu-
larly Dr. Traill, are against the pictures being the size of
life, and I must acknowledge it renders the work rather
bulky, but my heart was always bent on it, and I cannot
refrain from attempting it. I shall publish the letter-
press in a separate book, at the same time with the
illustrations, and shall accompany the descriptions of the
birds with many anecdotes and accounts of localities con-
nected with the birds themselves, and with my travels in
search of them. I miss my " Wild Turkeys," on which I

1 64 AUDUBON

worked steadily and from dawn to dark, a long time
here, — for sixteen days. It would be impossible for me
to write down all my feelings and thoughts about my
work, or my life here ; it may be that in time I shall be
reconciled or habituated to the life I now lead, but I can
scarce believe this, and often think the woods the only
place in which I truly live.

November 23, 1826. I have been drawing all day at
some Wood Pigeons, as they are emphatically called here,
though woods there are none. The day was cold, wet, and
snowy. Mr, Lizars, however, called with Dr. Brewster,^
an eminent and entertaining man. I received a note from
Geo. Combe, Esq., the phrenologist, who wishes to plaster
my poor head to take an impression of the bumps, ordi-
nary and extraordinary ; he also invited me to sup with
him on Monday next. I was to dine at Dr. Monroe's, Craig-
lockhart, near Slateford, so I dressed and sent for a coach
that took me two and a half vaWcs for twelve shillings, and
I had to pay one shilling toll, — a dear dinner this. I
arrived and entered a house richly furnished, and was pre-
sented to three ladies, and four gentlemen. The ladies
were Mrs. Monroe, Miss Maria Monroe, and Mrs. Murray;
amongst the gentlemen I at once recognized the amiable
and learned Staff-Surgeon Lyons. Mrs. Monroe I found
a woman of most extraordinary powers, a brilliant conver-
sationalist, highly educated, and most attractive. She sat
by me, and entertained me most charmingly, and the rest
of her company as well. I need not say the dinner was
sumptuous, for I find no other kind in hospitable Edin-
burgh. After dinner we had music from Miss Monroe, a
skilled songstress, and her rich voice, with the pathetic
Scotch ballads which she sang so unaffectedly, brought
tears to my eyes. My return to my lodgings was very
cold, for snow lies all about the hills that surround this
enchanting city.

* David Brewster, author, scientist, and philosopher, Edinburgh, 17S1-

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 65

Sunday, November 26. I went to a Scotch church this
morning, but it was cold and the services seemed to me
cold also, but it may have been that I was unaccustomed
to them. Snow lay thick on the ground and my lodgings
looked cheerless, all but my picture, at which I worked on
my return. I had put my work on the floor, and was
standing on a chair to see the effect at a good distance,
when Mrs. Lizars entered with her husband ; they had
come to invite me to dine with them on roasted sheep's-
head (a Scotch dish), and I was glad to accept, for I was
on the verge of a fit of depression, one of those severe
ones when I am almost afraid to be alone in my lodgings ;
alone indeed I am, without one soul to whom I can open
my heart. True, I have been alone before, but that was
in beloved America, where the ocean did not roll between
me and my wife and sons. At four, therefore, I reached
James' Square and dined with these good people without
pomp or ostentation ; it is the only true way to live. Found
the sheep's-head delicious, and spent the evening most
agreeably. I was shown many beautiful sketches, and two
plates of my birds well advanced. Mr. Lizars walked
home with me ; the weather was intensely cold, and the
wind blew a gale ; on turning a corner it almost threw me
down, and although warmly dressed I felt the chill keenly.
This morning seems a long way off, so many things have I
thought of this day.

Monday, November 27 . As soon as it dawned I was up
and at work, and quite finished my drawing before break-
fast. Mr. Syme came to see me, and was surprised to
find it done. I had also outlined my favorite subject, the
Otter in a trap. At twelve I went to stand np for my
picture, and sick enough I was of it by two ; at the request
of Mr. Lizars I wear my wolf-skin coat, and if the head is
not a strong likeness, perhaps the coat may be ; but this is
discourteous of me, even to my journal. Mr. Lizars
brought a Mr. Key, an artist, to throw a sky over my

1 66 AUDUBON

drawing, and the gentleman did it in handsome style, giv-
ing me some hints about this kind of work for which I am
grateful. I dined at home on herrings, mutton-chops,
cabbage, and fritters. As I am now going to sup with Mr.
George Combe, I will write to-morrow what I may hear to-
night. A kind note from Professor Jameson, whom I have
not seen for some time, for he is a busy man, with a card
of admittance to the Museum.

Tuesday, 28th. After writing thus far I left my room
and went to watch the engravers at work on my birds. I
was delighted to see how faithfully copied they were, and
scarcely able to conceive the great ''adroit'' required to
form all the lines exactly contrary to the model before
them. I took a cup of coffee with Mr. and Mrs. Lizars,
went home to dress, and at nine was again with Mr. Lizars,
who was to accompany me to Mr. Combe's, and reaching
Brovver Square we entered the dwelling of Phrenology !
Mr. Scot, the president of that society, Mr. D. Stewart,^
Mr. McNalahan, and many others were there, and also a
German named Charles N. Weiss, a great musician. Mr.
George Combe immediately asked this gentleman and
m)'self if we had any objection to have our heads looked at
by the president, who had not yet arrived. We both signi-
fied our willingness, and were seated side by side on a
sofa. When the president entered Mr. Combe said : " I
have here two gentlemen of talent ; will you please tell us
in what their natural powers consist?" Mr. Scot came up,
bowed, looked at Mr. Weiss, felt his head carefully all
over, and pronounced him possessed of musical faculty in
a great degree ; I then underwent the same process, and
he said : " There cannot exist a moment of doubt that
this gentleman is a painter, colorist, and compositor, and
I would add an amiable, though quick-tempered man."
Much conversation ensued, we had supper, Miss Scot

1 Dugald Stewart, Professor of Moral Philosophy, author, etc., Edinburgh,
1753-182S.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 167

and Miss Combe were present, the only ladies. After-
wards Mr. Weiss played most sweetly on the flute, Mr.
Scot sang Scotch airs, glees and madrigals followed, and
it was after one o'clock when " Music and Painting " left
the company arm in arm. I soon reached my lodgings.
Mr. Weiss gave me a ticket to his concert, and Mrs. Dickie,
who kindly sat up for me, gave me a ship letter. I
hoped it was from my Lucy, but no, it was from Governor
DeWitt Clinton; it was dated thirty days previous to my
receiving it.

Tuesday, 28th. The fog was so dense this morning that
at nine o'clock I could hardly see to write. I put the
drawing of the Stock Pigeons in the Institution, framed
superbly, and it looked well, I thought, even though so
dark a day. I again stood for my picture, two dreadfully
long hours, and I am sure I hope it may prove a good re-
semblance to my poor self. Whilst yet in my hunting-
dress, I received word that Sir Walter Scott was in the
Institution and wished to see me ; you may depend I was
not long in measuring the distance, and reached the build-
ing quite out of breath, but to no purpose. Sir Walter
had been compelled to go to preside at a meeting upstairs,
and left an apology for me, and a request that unless too
dark for him to see my work I would wait ; but it very
soon became quite dark, and I therefore abandoned all
thought of meeting him this time. I dined at Mr. Lizars',
and saw the first-proof impression of one of my drawings.
It looked pretty well, and as I had procured one sub-
scriber. Dr. Meikleham of Trinidad, I felt well contented.

Wednesday, 29th. The day was cloudy, and sitting for my
portrait has become quite an arduous piece of business. I
was positively in " durance vile " for two and a half hours.

Just as I was finishing my dinner, Mrs. F , the cousin

of Mr. Gregg, called ; ladies having the right to command,
I went immediately, and found a woman whose features
had more force and character than women generally show

1 68 AUDUBON

in their lineaments. Her eyes were very penetrating, and
I was struck with the strength of all she said, though noth-
ing seemed to be studied- She showed the effects of a
long, well learned round of general information. She, of
course, praised my work, but I scarce thought her candid.
Her eyes seemed to reach my very soul ; I knew that at
one glance she had discovered my inferiority. The group
of children she had with her were all fine-looking, but not
so gracefully obedient as those of the beautiful Mrs. Rath-
bone of W'oodcroft. She invited me to her home, near
Roslyn, and I shall, of course, accept this courtesy, though
I felt, and feel now, that she asked me from politeness
more than because she liked me, and I must say the more
I realized her intelligence the more stupid did I become.
Afterwards I went to Mr. Lizars' to meet Dr. Meiklcham,
who wishes mc to go with him to Trinidad, where I shall
draw, so he says, four hundred birds for him, for a publi-
cation of" Birds of the West Indies." On Friday I go to
Mrs. Isabella Murray's, to see her and some fine engrav-
ings. I have omitted to say that the first impression of
the beautiful seal sent mc b}- Mrs. Rathbone was sent to
my beloved wife; the seal itself is much admired, and the
workmanship highly praised. Mr. Combe has been to see
me, and says my poor skull is a greater exemplification of
the evidences of the truth of his system than any he has
seen, except those of one or two whose great names only
are familiar to me ; and positively I have been so tormented
about the shape of my head that my brains are quite out
of sorts. Nor is this all ; my eyes will have to be closed
for about one hour, my face and hair oiled over, and plas-
ter of Paris poured over my nose (a greased quill in each
nostril), and a bust will be made. On the other hand, an
artist quite as crazy and foolishly inclined, has said that
my head was a perfect Vandyke's, and to establish this
fact, my portrait is now growing under the pencil of the
ablest artist of the science here. It is a strange-looking

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 69

figure, with gun, strap, and buckles, and eyes that to me
are more those of an enraged Eagle than mine. Yet it is
to be engraved. Sir Walter Scott saw my drawings for a
few moments yesterday, and I hope to meet him to-mor-
row when I dine with the Antiquarian Society at the Wat-
erloo Hotel, where an annual feast is given. My work is
proceeding in very good style, and in a couple of days
colored plates will be at the exhibition rooms, and at the
different booksellers ; but with all this bustle, and my
hopes of success, my heart is heavy, for hopes are not
facts. The weather is dull, moist, and disagreeably cold at
times, and just now the short duration of the daylight
here is shocking ; the lamps are lighted in the streets at
half-past three o'clock P. M., and are yet burning at half-
past seven A. M.

November 30. My portrait was finished to-day. I can-
not say that I think it a very good resemblance, but it
is a fine picture, and the public must judge of the rest.
I had a bad headache this morning, which has now passed ;
to be ill far from home would be dreadful, away from my
Lucy, who would do more for me in a day than all the
doctors in Christendom in a twelvemonth. I visited the
exhibition rooms for a few minutes; I would like to go
there oftener, but really to be gazed at by a crowd is, of
all things, most detestable to me. Mr. Gregg called
about four, also Mr. Bridges and an acquaintance of the
famous " Alligator Rider," and I was told that Mr.
Waterton said that Joseph Bonaparte imitated the man-
ners and habits of his brother Napoleon; that is much
more than I know or saw. But St. Andrew's Day and my
invitation to dine with the Antiquarians was not forgotten.
At five I was at Mr. Lizars', where I found Mr. Moule
and we proceeded to the W^aterloo Hotel. The sitting-
room was soon filled ; I met many that I knew, and a few
minutes after the Earl of Elgin ^ made his entree, I was
^ Thomas Bruce, seventh Earl of Elgin. 1777-1841.

I/O AUDUBON

presented to him by Mr. Iniies of Stow; he shook hands
with me and spoke in a very kind and truly compHmentary
manner about my pencil's productions. At six we walked
in couples to the dining-room ; I had the arm of my good
friend Patrick Neill, Mr. Lizars sat on my other side, and
there was a sumptuous dinner indeed. It at first consisted
entirely of Scotch messes of old fashion, such as marrow-
bones, codfish-heads stuffed with oatmeal and garlic,
black puddings, sheep's-heads smelling of singed wool,
and I do not know what else. Then a second dinner was
served quite aVanglaise. I finished with a bit of grouse.
Then came on the toasts. Lord Elgin, being president
and provided with an auctioneer's mallet, brought all the
company to order by rapping smartly on the table with
the instrument. He then rose, and simply said: "The
King! four times four ! " Every one rose to drink to the
monarch's health, and the president saying, " Ip, ip, ip,"
sixteen cheers were loudly given. The Dukes of York,
Argyle, and many others had their healths drunk, then
Sir Walter Scott (who, to my great regret, was not able
to be present), and so on and on, one and another, until
mine was proposed by Mr. Skene,^ the first secretary of
the society. Whilst he was engaged in a handsome pan-
egyric the perspiration poured from me, I thought I should
faint ; and I was seated in this wretched condition when
everybody rose, and the Earl called out: " Mr. Audubon."
I had seen each individual when toasted, rise, and deliver
a speech; that being the case, could I remain speechless
like a fool? No ! I summoned all my resolution, and for
the first time in my life spoke to a large assembly, saying
these few words: "Gentlemen, my command of words in
which to reply to your kindness is almost as humble as
that of the birds hanging on the walls of }'Our institution.
I am truly obliged for your favors. Permit me to say, May
God bless you all, and may this society prosper." I felt
1 Wm. Forbes Skene, Scottish historian.

THE E U ROPE A N JO URNALS 1 7 1

my hands wet with perspiration. Mr. Lizars poured me
out a glass of wine and said: " Bravo ! take this," which I
gladly did. More toasts were given, and then a delightful
old Scotch song was sung by Mr. Innes ; the refrain was
" Put on thy cloak about thee," Then Air. McDonald
sang. Wm. Allan, Esq.,^ the famous painter, told a beautiful
story, then rose, and imitated the buzzing of a bumble-bee
confined in a room, and followed the bee (apparently) as
if flying from him, beating it down with his handkerchief;
a droll performance most admirably done. At ten, the
Earl rose, and bid us farewell, and at half-past ten I pro-
posed to Mr. Lizars to go, and we did. I was much
pleased at having been a guest at this entertainment, par-
ticularly as Lord Elgin expressed a wish to see me again.
I went to Mr. Lizars', where we sat chatting for an hour,
when I returned to my lodgings and took myself to bed.
December 1. My portrait was hung up in the exhi-
bition room ; I prefer it to be gazed at rather than the
original from which it was taken. The day was shock-
ingly bad, wet, slippery, cold. I had to visit Lord Clan-
carty and his lady at noon, therefore I went. I met Mrs.

M and her children and the eldest daughter of Mr.

Monroe. Mrs. M began a long speech, telling me of

her father, Lord S , and his loyalty to the Stuarts ; the

details not only of that royal family but all the kings of
England were being poured out, and I should probably
be there yet, merely saying " Yes" from time to time, if a
lucky interruption had not come in the form of a message
from Lord Elgin, to say he desired to see me at the Insti-
tution. I soon reached that place, where I met Lord Elgin,
in company with Secretary Skene and Mr. Hall the advo-
cate, in the art room. Mr. Hall is nephew to Lady Doug-
las, and this gave me an opportunity to hand him her
letter. But the best thing to relate is my breakfast with

1 Afterwards Sir William Allan, historical painter; in 1S33 was elected
president of the Scottish Royal Academy, Edinburgh. 1782-1850.

172 AUDUBON

that wonderful man David Bridges. I was at his house at
a quarter before nine ; a daughter was practising the piano,
the son reading, his wife, well-dressed, was sewing. I
conversed with her and looked at the pictures till the door
opened and my friend came in, attired in his robe de
chambrc, shook my hand warmly, and taking his handker-
chief from his pocket, he began whisking and wiping
chimney mantel, tables, chairs, desk, etc., to my utter
annoyance, for I felt for the wife whose poor housewifery
was thus exposed. After breakfast we walked to see my
portrait and to criticise it, for both Mr. Lizars and Mr,
Bridges arc connoisseurs. In the evening I visited Mr.
Howe, the editor of the " Courant " and then to the theatre
with Mr. Bridges to see Wairner (?) perform " Tyke" in
" The School of Reform." We met at the Rainbow
Tavern, and soon entered the theatre, which was thinly
attended ; but I was delighted with the piece, and the per-
formance of it, though we left before it was concluded to
attend Mr. VVeiss's concert in the Assembly Rooms in
George Street. The flute playing was admirable both in
execution and tone ; Mr. Bridges supped with me. It is
now again one o'clock, and I am quite worn out.

December J, Satia-day. The weather was a sharp frost
till evening, when it rained. I was busy painting all day,
and did not put foot out of doors till I went to dine with
Dr. Brown, the professor of theology.^ Mr. Bridges went
with mc, and told me that Professor Wilson had prepared
a notice for " Blackwood's Magazine" respecting myself and
my work. I think the servant who called out my name at
Dr. Brown's must have received a most capital lesson in
pronunciation, for seldom in my travels did I hear my
name so clearly and well pronounced. Several other
guests were present, Professor Jameson among them, and
we passed a most agreeable evening. I must not forget

1 An eminent divine 1784-1858; father of Dr. John Brown, author of
" Rab and his Friends," etc.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 73

that Sir James Hall and his brother called to receive infor-
mation respecting the comfort that may be expected in
travelling through my dear country.

Sunday, December 3. My good friends, Mr. and Mrs.
Lizars came in as usual after church ; they like the Otter
better than the Turkeys. It was nearly finished, to the
great astonishment of Mr. Syme and Mr. Cameron, who
came to announce that the rooms at the Institution were
mine till the 20th inst. Mr. Cameron looked long at the
picture and said : " No man in either England or Scotland
could paint that picture in so short a time." Now to me
this is all truly wonderful ; I came to this Europe fearful,
humble, dreading all, scarce able to hold up my head and
meet the glance of the learned, and I am praised so highly !
It is quite unaccountable, and I still fear it will not last ;
these good people certainly give me more merit than I am
entitled to ; it can only be a glance of astonishment or sur-
prise operating on them because my style is new, and
somewhat different from those who have preceded me.
Mr. Bridges, who knows everybody, and goes everywhere,
went with me to dine with Mr. Witham of Yorkshire.
We dined — had coffee — supped at eleven. At twelve
the ladies left us ; I wished to leave, but it was impossible.
Dr. Knox said he wished to propose me as an honorary
member of the Wernerian Society ; our host said he would
second the motion ; my health was drunk, and I finally
retired with Dr. Knox, leaving Mr. Bridges and the other
gentlemen making whiskey toddy from that potent Scotch
liquor which as yet I cannot swallow. It was now half-
past two ; what hours do I keep ! Am I to lead this
life long? If I do I must receive from my Maker a new
supply of strength, for even my strong constitution cannot
stand it.

Monday, December Jf.. I gave early orders to Mrs.
Dickie to have a particularly good breakfast ready by nine
o'clock because Mr. Witham had offered last night to come

1/4 AUDUBON

and partake of it with me ; I then took to my brushes and
finished my Otter entirely. I had been just thirteen hours
at it, and had I labored for thirteen weeks, I do not think
I should have bettered it. Nine o'clock — ten o'clock —
and no Mr. VVitham. I was to accompany him to Dr.
Knox, whose lecture on Anatomy he was to hear. At last
he came with many apologies, having already breakfasted,
and giving me but ten minutes for my miorning meal. We
then hurried off, the weather beautiful, but extremely cold.
Wc ascended the stairs and opened the door of the lecture
room, where were seated probably one hundred and fifty
students; a beating of feet and clapping of hands took
place that quite shocked me. We seated ourselves and
each person who entered the room was saluted as we had
been, and during the intervals a low beating was kept up
resembling in its regularity the footsteps of a regiment on
a flat pavement. Dr. Knox entered, and all was as hushed
as if silence had been the principal study of all present.
I am not an anatomist. Unfortunately, no ! I know
almost less than nothing, but I w^as much interested in the
lecture, which lasted three quarters of an hour, when the
Dr. took us through the anatomical Museum, and his dis-
secting-room. The sights were extremely disagreeable,
many of them shocking beyond all I ever thought could
be. I was glad to leave this charnel house and breathe
again the salubrious atmosphere of the streets of " Fair
Edina." I was engaged most certainly to dine out, but
could not recollect where, and was seated trying to remem-
ber, when the Rev. W. J. Bakewell, my wife's first cousin,
and the son of Robert Bakewell the famous grazier and
zoologist of Derbyshire, came in to see me. He asked
many questions about the family in America, gave me his
card and invited me to dine with him next Monday week,
which is my first unengaged day. I had a letter from Mr.
Monroe at Liverpool telling me I had been elected a mem-
ber of the Literary and Philosophical Societies of that

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 75

city. Not being able to recall where I was to dine, I was
guilty of what must seem great rudeness to my intended
hosts, and which is truly most careless on my part ; so I
went to Mr. Lizars, where I am always happy. The wild
Turkey-cock is to be the large bird of my first number, to
prove the necessity of the size of the work. I am glad to
be able to retire at an early hour. It seems to me an
extraordinary thing, my present situation in Edinburgh ;
looked upon with respect, receiving the attentions of the
most distinguished people, and supported by men of
science and learning. It is wonderful to me; ami, or is
my work, deserving of all this?

Tuesday, December 5. After I had put my Otter in the
exhibition room, I met Mr. Syme and with him visited
Mr. Wm. Nicholson,^ a portrait painter, and there saw,
independent of his own work, a picture from the far-famed
Snyders, intended for a Bear beset with dogs of all sorts.
The picture had great effect, fine coloring, and still finer
finishing, but the Bear was no Bear at all, and the dogs
were so badly drawn, distorted caricatures that I am sure
Snyders did not draw from specimens put in real postures,
in my w^ay. I was quite disappointed, so much had I
heard of this man's pictures of quadrupeds, and I thought
of Dr. Traill, who, although well acquainted with birds
scientifically, told me he had an engraving of birds where
both legs of each individual were put on the same side,
and that he never noticed the defect till it was pointed out
to him. This made me reflect how easily man can be im-
pressed by general effect and beauty. I returned to the
Institution and had the pleasure of meeting Captain Basil
Hall,2 of the Royal Navy, his wife, and Lady Hunter.
They were extremely kind to me, and spoke of my dear
friends the Rathbones and Greggs in terms which de-

1 William Nicholson, First Secretary of the Scottish Academy and por-
trait painter. 17S4-1844.

2 Traveller and author. 17S8-1844.

\^6 AUDUBON

lighted me. The captain asked if I did not intend to
exhibit by gaslight, and when I replied that the Institution
had granted me so much favor already that I could not
take it upon myself to speak of that, said that he should
do so at once, and would let me know the answer from
Mr. Skene, the secretary. I wrote the history of my pic-
ture of the Otter, and sent with a note to Professor Wilson,
who had asked for it,

Wednesday, December 6. After breakfast I called on
Professor Jameson, and as the Wild Turkey is to be in my
first number, proposed to give him the account of the
habits of the Turkey Buzzard instead ; he appeared anxious
to have any I would give. I spoke to him about the pre-
sentation of my name to the Wernerian Society ; he said
it was desirable for me to join it as it would attach me to
the country, and he would give his aid gladly. I visited
Captain Basil Hall of the Royal Navy; as I ascended the
stairs to his parlor I heard the sweet sounds of a piano,
and found Mrs. Hall was the performer. Few women have
ever attracted me more at first sight; her youth and her
fair face are in unison with her manners; and her husband
also received me most kindly, especially when I recalled
our previous slight acquaintance. I spent here a most
agreeable hour. They spoke of visiting the States, and I
urged them to do so. Captain Hall, a man of extraordi-
nary talents, a great traveller, and a rich man, has made
the most of all, and I found him the best of company.
From thence to friend Neill's establishment in the Old
Town to see at what time my memoranda must be ready for
the press ; to my astonishment I was told that to-morrow
was my last day, and I ran home to scribble. Professor
Monroe called on me with a friend and asked me what I
would take to draw skulls, etc., for him; then Mr. Syme
brought an engraver to consult with me on the subject of
my portrait being immortalized. Young Gregg paid me a
visit, and at last I dressed in a hurry and ran to Mr. Lizars'

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 177

to know the way to Mr. Ritchie's, where I was to dine.
Mr. Lizars sent a young man to show me the way, and I
arrived at the appointed spot just one hour too late. I
dined however, and dined well. Miss Scott was there. Miss
Combe, Mr. Weiss, and several others ; but when dinner
was over and we ascended to the tea room, a crowd of
ladies and gentlemen not before seen were in waiting to
see the " Woodsman from America." We had music and
dancing, and I did not leave till a late hour and must now
write more for the printers. I must tell thee that some-
one gave a false note of one pound at my exhibition rooms,
and therefore / paid him well to see my birds. A man
who met me to-day at the door of the Institution asked
me if they were very well worth seeing. Dost thou think I
said " Yes " ? Not I ! I positively said " No ! " and off he
went; but a few yards off I saw him stop to talk to another
man, when he returned and went in.

Thursday, December 7. I wrote as hard as I could
till early this morning, and finished the paper for Professor
Jameson, who sent me a note desiring me to put down the
University of Edinburgh as a subscriber to my work.
I was highly pleased with this, being a powerful leader.
I saw in this day's paper that Charles Bonaparte had ar-
rived at Liverpool in the " Canada " from New York.
How I longed to see him ! Had I been sure of his remain-
ing at Liverpool a few days, I positively would have gone
there by the evening mail-coach. I saw to-day two of
my drawings in proof; I was well pleased with them;
indeed one of them I liked better than the first that were
done. My dinner was at Mr. Howe's, the editor of the
" Courant." Mr. Allan the artist came in at nine, when his
lessons were just ended at the Academy of Arts, — an ex-
tremely agreeable man, full of gayety, wit, and good sense,
a great traveller in Russia, Greece, and Turkey.

Friday, December 8, 1826. Men and their lives are
very like the different growths of our woods ; the noble
VOL. I. — 12

178 AUDUBON

magnolia, all odoriferous, has frequently the teasing nettle
growing so near its large trunk as to sometimes be touched
by it. Edinburgh contains a Walter Scott, a Wilson,
a Jameson, but it contains also many nettles of the genus
Mammalia, amongst which vieii hold a very prominent
station. Now I have run into one of these latter gentry.
To speak out at once, one of my drawings was gently pur-
loined last evening from the rooms of the Institution. So
runs the fact; perhaps a few minutes before the doors
closed a somebody in a large cloak paid his shilling, en-
tered the hall and made his round, and with great caution
took a drawing from the wall, rolled it up, and walked off.
The porter and men in attendance missed it almost im-
mediately, and this morning I was asked if I or Mr. Lizars
had taken it to be engraved. I immediately told Mr.
Lizars; we went to Mr. Bridges, and by his advice to the
court, where Captain Robeson — who, by the way, was at
the battle of New Orleans — issued a warrant against a

young man of the name of I , deaf and dumb, who was

strongly suspected. Gladly would I have painted a bird for
the poor fellow, and I certainly did not want him arrested,
but the Institution guards were greatly annoyed at the
occurrence. However, I induced ]\Ir. Lizars to call on
the family of the youth, which is a very good one and well
known in Edinburgh. I returned to my lodgings and on
the stairs met a beggar woman with a child in her arms,
but passed her without much notice beyond pitying her
in her youth and poverty, reached my door, where I saw
a roll of paper ; I picked it up, walked in, opened it, and
found my drawing of the Black-poll Warbler ! Is not
this a curious story? The thief — whoever he may be,
God pardon him — had, we conceived, been terror-struck
on hearing of the steps we had taken, and had resorted to
this method of restoring the drawing before he was ar-
rested. I was in time to stop the warrant, and the affair
was silenced. Durine: the afternoon I was called on twice

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 79

by Capt. Basil Hall, who was so polite as to present me
with a copy of his work, two volumes, on South America,
with a kind note, and an invitation to dine with him on
Thursday next at eight o'clock. The weather is miserable.

Saturday, December 0. I wrote closely all morning
from six to twelve, only half dressed, and not stopping for
breakfast beyond a cup of coffee, and while thus busily
employed Mr. Hall came in and handed me a note from
Lady Hunter, requesting the honor of my company on
Saturday next to dine at six ; he looked at me with sur-
prise and doubtless thought me the strangest-looking man
in the town. I had much running about with Professor
Jameson to the printer, and with my manuscript to Mr.
Lizars, who took it to Professor Brewster. We visited the
jNIuseum together, called on a Mr. Wilson, where I saw a
most beautiful dead Pheasant that I longed to have to
paint. Then to Dr. Lizars' lecture on anatomy, and with
him to the dissecting-rooms, but one glance was enough
for me, and I hastily, and I hope forever, made my escape.
The day was extremely wet, and I was glad to be in my
room. I hear Mr. Selby is expected next Monday night.

December 10, Sunday. My situation in Edinburgh bor-
ders almost on the miraculous. With scarce one of
those qualities necessary to render a man able to pass
through the throng of the learned people here, I am
positively looked on by all the professors and many of the
principal persons here as a very extraordinary man. I
cannot comprehend this in the least. Indeed I have re-
ceived here so much kindness and attention that I look
forward with regret to my removal to Glasgow, fifty miles
hence, where I expect to go the last of this month. Sir
William Jardine has been spending a few days here pur-
posely to see me, and I am to meet Mr. Selby, and with
these two gentlemen discuss the question of a joint publi-
cation, which may possibly be arranged. It is now a
month since my work was begun by Mr. Lizars ; the paper

l8o AUDUBON

is of unusual size, called " double elephant," and the
plates are to be finished in such superb style as to eclipse
all of the same kind in existence. The price of each
number, which will contain five prints, is two guineas, and
all individuals have the privilege of subscribing for the
whole, or any portion of it. The two plates now finished
are truly beautiful. This number consists of the Turkey-
cock, the Cuckoos on the pawpaws, and three small draw-
ings, which in the centre of the large sheet have a fine
efifect, and an air of richness, that I think must ensure suc-
cess, though I do not yet feel assured that all will go well.
Yet on the other hand, all things bear a better aspect than
I expected to see for many months, if ever. I think that
if my work takes in Edinburgh, it will anywhere. I have
strong friends here who interest themselves in me, but I
must wait patiently till the first number is finished. Mr.
Jameson, the first professor of this place, and the conductor
of the " Philosophical Journal," gives a beautiful announce-
ment of my work in the present number, with an account,
by me, of the Turkey Buzzard. Dr. Brewster also an-
nounces it, with the introductory letter to my work, and
Professor Wilson also, in " Blackwood's Magazine." These
three journals print upwards of thirty thousand copies, so
that my name will spread quickly enough. I am to deliver
lectures on Natural History at the Wernerian Society at
each of the meetings while I am here, and Professor
Jameson told me I should soon be made a member of all
the other societies here, and that would give my work a
good standing throughout Europe. Much as I find here
to enjoy, the great round of company I am thrown in has
become fatiguing to me in the extreme, nor does it agree
with my early habits. I go out to dine 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 immense correspondence which increases daily, makes
my head feel like an immense hornet's-nest, and my

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS l8l

body wearied beyond all calculation ; yet it has to be
done ; those who have my interests at heart tell me I must
not refuse a single invitation.

December 11, Monday. Though I awoke feeling much
depressed, my dull feelings were soon dissipated by letters
from my sweet wife and sons. What joy to know them well
and happy on the 14th and 27th of September. My day
was a busy one, and at seven I went to Mr. Lizars', having
engaged to go with him to the Antiquarian Society, where
I met many of my friends, saw a gun-barrel and other
things that had belonged to the Spanish Armada, and heard
a curious and interesting account of that vast fleet read by
Dr. Hibbert, and saw the Scottish antiquities belonging to
the society.

Tuesday, December 12. This morning at ten I went to
the house of Dr. Brewster, whom I found writing in a large
room with several fine pictures on the walls. He re-
ceived me very kindly, and in a few minutes I began
reading my paper on the habits of the Carrion Crow,
Vultur atratus. About midway my nervo'usness affected
my respiration ; I paused a moment, and he was good
.enough to say it was highly interesting. I resumed, and
went on to the end, much to my relief. He who has been
brought up an auctioneer, or on the boards of some
theatre, with all the knowledge of the proper usage of the
voice, and all the aplomb such a life would give, knows
nothing of the feelings of bashfulness which agitated me, a
man who never looked into an English grammar and who
has forgotten most of what he learned in French and
Spanish ones — a man who has always felt awkward and
shy in the presence of a stranger — a man habituated to
ramble alone, with his thoughts usually bent on the
beauties of Nature herself — this man, me, to be seated
opposite Dr. Brewster in Edinburgh, reading one of my
puny efforts at describing habits of birds that none but
an Almighty Creator can ever know, was ridiculously ab-

152 AUDUBON

surd in my estimation, during all the time ; besides, I also
felt the penetrating looks and keen observation of the
learned man before me, so that the cold sweat started
from me. As I wiped my forehead on finishing my
paper, a large black dog came in, caressed his master, and
made a merciful diversion, and as my agitation gradually
subsided I was able to talk with Dr. Brewster and was
afterwards introduced to his lady, who put me soon at my
ease, and told me I was to be introduced to Sir Walter
Scott on Monday next at the Royal Academy. Poor
me ! — far from Sir Walter I could talk to him ; hun-
dreds of times have I spoken to him quite loudly in
the woods, as I looked on the silvery streamlets, or the
dense swamps, or the noble Ohio, or on mountains
losing their peaks in gray mists.- How many times have I
longed for him to come to my beloved country, that he
might describe, as no one else ever can, the stream, the
swamp, the river, the mountain, for the sake of future
ages. A century hence they will not be here as I see
them. Nature will have been robbed of many brilliant
charms, the rivers will be tormented and turned astray
from their primitive courses, the hills will be levelled with
the swamps, and perhaps the swamps will have become a
mound surmounted by a fortress of a thousand guns.
Scarce a magnolia will Louisiana possess, the timid Deer
will exist nowhere, fish will no longer abound in the rivers,
the Eagle scarce ever alight, and these millions of lovely
songsters be driven away or slain by man. Without Sir
Walter Scott these beauties must perish unknown to the
world. To the great and good man himself I can never
say this, therefore he can never know it, or my feelings
towards him — but if he did? What have I to say more
than a world of others who all admire him, perhaps are
better able to do so, because more enlightened. Ah !
Walter Scott ! when I am presented to thee my head will
droop, my heart will swell, my limbs will tremble, my lips

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 83

will quiver, my tongue congeal ; nevertheless I shall feel
elevated if I am permitted to touch the hand to which the
world owes so much.

December IS, Wednesday. I have spent the greater
portion of this day in the company of Mr. Selby the
ornithologist, who, in appearance is well formed, and in
manners clever and polite, yet plain and unassuming.
We w^ere together some hours at the Institution, — he was
greatly pleased with my drawings, — and we then dined at
Mr. Lizars' in company with Dr. Lizars, and we all talked
ornithology. I wish I possessed the scientific knowledge
of the subject that Mr. Selby does. He wished to hear
my paper on the " Buzzard," and after doing so, took it
with him to read to Sir Wm. Jardine, to whom he goes
to-morrow, but will return on Monday. Later Dr. Brewster
came to my room with the proof of the paper on the
" Carrion Crow." He read it, and we both corrected.
He told me it was a question whether or no I could be
made a member of the Royal Academy, for only tJiirty
foreigners were allowed by law, and the number was
already complete; still he hoped an exception would be
made in my case. He thanked me very cordially for my
paper, and said Sir Walter Scott wished to meet me, and
would do so on Monday at the Royal Academy. Mr.
Bridges gave me a very fine notice in the Scotsman, and
has again invited me to dine with him to meet some
distinguished Germans, and before that I must call at
Lord Clancarty's to see Mrs. Murray.

Thursday, December llf.. I paid my visit to Mrs. Murray
this forenoon, but the lady was out ; so I handed my card
to the slender youth who had opened the door and who
stood before me looking at my hair like an ass at a fine
thistle, and then made off quickly to Dr. Brewster. My
business was before him in an instant ; I wished not to be
introduced to Sir Walter in a crowd, and he promised me
not to do so. Much relieved I went to the University to

1 84 AUDUBON

see Dr. Andrew Brown, Professor of Rhetoric. I found
him a very polished man, and after some conversation he
asked me to write him a paper on the manners and cus-
toms of Indians. But I must promise less writing of this
kind, for I am too busy otherwise; however, immediately
on my return home I sat down to write a long list of mem-
oranda for a journey in America which I had promised Cap-
tain Basil Hall, and I wrote till my head ached. Mr. Daniel
Lizars has invited me to dine with him on Friday at three,
and has procured two cats, which he wishes me to paint.
Now this suits me to a " T " — a long morning's work,
a short meal, and some hours more of work ; very different
from to-day, for it was five minutes of seven when I reached
Captain Hall's. We dined delightfully with just the com-
pany he had promised me, and I was not compelled to
ask any one to take wine with me, a thing in my opinion
detestable quite, a foppish art I cannot bear. I wish
everybody was permitted to drink when he is thirsty, or at
least only when he likes, and not when he dislikes it.
The ladies having left us, the map of my native land was
put on the table ; I read my notes, the Captain followed
the course with his pencil from New York to New Orleans,
visiting besides Niagara, St. Louis, and a hundred other
places. We talked of nothing but his journey in my dear
country, and Mrs. Hall is delighted at the prospect. The
Captain wishes to write a book, and he spoke of it with as
little concern as I should say, " I will draw a duck ; " is it
not surprising? He said to me, " Why do not you write
a little book telling what you have seen ? " I cannot write
at all, but if I could how could I make a little book, when
I have seen enough to make a dozen large books? I will
not write at all.

Friday, December 15. I have just returned from the the-
atre, where I saw for the first time " The Beggars' Opera "
and " The Lord of the Manor." They were both badly
represented, most certainly. Only one lady could sing, or

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 85

act her part at all well. It was most truly a Beggars'
Opera; I went with Mr. Daniel Lizars and his wife and
brother-in-law. They were all desirous to see a certain
Mr. St. Clair perform ; but I truly think that the gentle-
man in question had drank too much brandy this day, or
was it of the smoky whiskey which these Scots relish? I
did little work this day, but walked much to refresh myself
after all the hard work and constant writing I have lately
done. The weather was most inviting, and as pleasant
as Louisiana at this season. Upwards of two hundred
people were at my exhibition, and to-morrow it closes.
Baron Stokoe called whilst I was absent and left word he
wished to see me, that he had heard from a friend of mine,
whom I suppose to be Charles Bonaparte. Baron Stokoe
was formerly a physician of eminence in the British
service ; when Dr. O'Meara was taken away from St.
Helena, where he was physician to Napoleon, this gentle-
man was put in his place, but did not suit the peculiar
ideas of his barbarous governor, and was also dismissed,
not only from the island, but from the service, with a
trifling pension. He had become acceptable to Napoleon
even in the short time they were together, and when he
returned from that lonely rock was employed by Joseph
Bonaparte to attend his daughters from Rome to Phila-
delphia. I met him with Charles Bonaparte during his
stay in America. So pleased was Joseph Bonaparte with
his conduct that he is now one of his pcnsionnaircs, and
his general agent in Europe.

Saturday, December 16. I have really done much to-
day. At half-past nine I faced the inclement weather,
crossed the bridge, passed the college regretting such a
curious and valuable monument was quite buried among the
antiquated, narrow streets, and dismal houses that surround

it, then rang the bell, and was admitted to Baron S 's

parlor. He was still snug asleep ; so that I had enjoyed
four and a half hours of life while he slept. He saw me

1 86 AUDUBON

at once in his bedroom and told me that if I wrote to
the Prince of Musignano at London this morning, the let-
ter would probably reach him. I returned home, wrote
my letter, or rather began it, when I received several
pages from my good friend Mr. Rathbone which quite
depressed me. He feared my work would not succeed
on account of the unusual size; and Mrs. Rathbone, Senior,
refused me the pleasure of naming a bird after her, on
account of the publicity, she said ; yet I longed to do so,
for what greater compliment could I pay any lady than
to give her name to one of the most exquisite creations
of the Almighty? The whole made me most dismal, but
yet not in the least discouraged or disheartened about my
work. If Napoleon by perseverance and energy rose from
the ranks to be an emperor, why should not Audubon with
perseverance and energy be able to leave the woods of
America for a time and publish and sell a book? — always
supposing that Audubon has some knowledge of his work,
as Napoleon had great knowledge of his. No, no, I shall
not cease to work for this end till old age incapacitates me.
I thought long over Mr. Rathbone's letter, then finished
mine to Charles and put it in the post-office. I then pur-
chased a Pigeon, killed it, packed up my wires and hammer,
and at one o'clock took these things with my " position
board," called a coach, and went to the meeting of the Wer-
nerian Society at the University. Lady Morton had joined
me, hence my need for the coach. Mr. Skene met me at
the door, where I parted from Lady Morton, who made me
promise to visit her at Dalmahoy. She is a small, hand-
some woman, who speaks most excellent French. Mr.
Lizars joined me, and we all entered the room of the Wer-
nerian Society of Edinburgh! The room is a plain one;
two tables, one fireplace, many long benches or seats, and a
chair for the president were all the furniture I saw, except
a stuffed sword-fish, which lay on one of the tables for ex-
amination that day. Many persons were already present,

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 1 87

and I unrolled the drawing of the Buzzard for them to see.
Professor Jameson came in, and the meeting began. My
paper on the Buzzard was the first thing, read by Patrick
Neill, — not very well, as my writing was not easy reading
for him. Professor Jameson then rose, and gave quite a
eulogy upon it, my works, and lastly — myself I then had
the thanks of the society, and showed them my manner of
putting up my specimens for drawing birds, etc. ; this they
thought uncommonly ingenious. Professor Jameson then
offered me as an honorary member, when arose a great
clapping of hands and stamping of feet, as a mark of ap-
probation. Then Professor Jameson desired that the usual
law requiring a delay of some months between the nomina-
tion and the election be laid aside on this occasion ; and
again the same acclamations took place, and it was decided
I should be elected at the next meeting; after which the
meeting was ended, I having promised to read a paper on
the habits of the Alligator at the following assembly of
the society. Then came my dinner at Lady Hunter's.

At precisely six I found m}'self at No. 16 Hope St
I was shown upstairs, and presented to Lady Mary Clark,
who knew both General Wolfe and General Montgomery,
a most amiable English lady eighty-two years of age.
Many other interesting people were present, and I had the
pleasure of taking Mrs. Basil Hall to dinner, and was
seated next her mother. Lady Hunter, and almost opposite
Lady Mary Clark. I did not feel so uncomfortable as
usual ; all were so kind, affable, and truly well-bred. At
nine the ladies left us, and Captain Basil Hall again
attacked me about America, and hundreds of questions
were put to me by all, which I answered as plainly and
briefly as I could.

At eleven we joined the ladies, and tea and coffee were
handed round ; other guests had come in, card-tables were
prepared, and we had some music. Portfolios of prints
were ready for those interested in them. I sat watching

AUDUBON

all, but listening to Mrs. Hall's sweet music. This bustle
does not suit me, I am not fitted for it, I prefer more sol-
itude in the woods, I left at last with young Gregg, but
I was the first to go, and we stepped out into the rainy-
Sunday morning, for it was long, long past midnight, and
I hastened to my lodgings to commit murder, — yes, to
commit murder; for the cats Mr. Daniel Lizars wished me
to paint had been sent, and good Mrs. Dickie much objected
to them in my rooms ; her son helped me, and in two min-
utes the poor animals were painlessly killed. I at once
put them up in fighting attitude, ready for painting when
daylight appeared, which would not be long. Good-night,
or good-morning; it is now nearly three o'clock.

Sunday, December 17. I painted all day, that is, during
all the time I could see, and I was up at six this morning
writing by candle-light, which I was compelled to use till
nearly nine. Mr. Bridges called, and I dined at home on
fried oysters and stewed Scotch herrings, then went to
Mr. Lizars', where I nearly fell asleep; but a cup of coffee
thoroughly awakened me, and I looked at some drawings
of birds, which I thought miserable, by Mr. Pellctier. Mr.
Lizars walked home with me to see my cats.

Monday^ DeccDiher IS. My painting of two cats fight-
ing like two devils over a dead Squirrel was finished at
three o'clock. I had been ten hours at it, but should not
call it by the dignified title of " painting," for it is too rap-
idly done for the more finished work I prefer; but I can-
not give more time to it now, and the drawing is good. I
dressed, and took the painting — so I continue to call it —
to Mrs. Lizars', who wished to see it, and it had rained so
hard all day she had not been able to come to my rooms.
At five I dined with George Combe, the conversation
chiefly phrenology. George Combe is a delightful host,
and had gathered a most agreeable company. At seven
Mr. Lizars called for me, and we went to the meeting of
the Royal Academy. Two of my plates were laid on the

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 189

table. Dr. Brewster and Mr. Allan wished the Academy
to subscribe for my work, and the committee retired to
act on this and other business. The meeting was very
numerous and no doubt very learned ; Sir William Jardine
and Mr. Selby arrived a little before the society was
seated. The door of the hall was thrown open and we all
marched in and seated ourselves on most slippery hair-
cloth seats. The room is rich and beautiful ; it is a large
oblong, the walls covered with brilliant scarlet paper in
imitation of morocco. The ceiling is painted to represent
oak panels. The windows are immensely large, framed to
correspond with the ceiling, and with green jalousies ; large
chandeliers, with gas, light every corner brilliantly. The
president sat in a large arm-chair lined with red morocco,
and after the minutes of the last meeting had been read,

Professor gave us a long, tedious, and labored lecture

on the origin of languages, their formation, etc. It seemed
a very poor mess to me, though that was probably be-
cause I did not understand it. My friend Ord would have
doubtless swallowed it whole, but I could make neither
head nor tail of it. A few fossil bones were then ex-
hibited, and then, thank heaven ! it was over. Sir William
Jardine brought some birds with him from Jardine Hall,
and to-morrow will see my style of posing them for paint-
ing. As I had promised to go to supper with Dr. Russell,
I left soon after ten, without knowing what decision the
committee had reached as to subscribing to my work. I
met several of the Academicians at Dr. Russell's, as well
as others whom I knew ; but I am more and more sur-
prised to find how little these men, learned as they are,
know of America beyond the situation of her principal
cities. We sat down to supper at eleven, — everything
magnificent; but I was greatly fatigued, for I had been at
work since before five this morning, either painting or
writing or thinking hard. We left the table about one, and
I was glad to come home and shall now soon be asleep.

190 AUDUBON

Tuesday, December 19. My writing takes me full two
hours every morning, and soon as finished to-day, I dressed
to go to breakfast with Sir William Jardine and Mr. Selby
at Barry's Hotel. It was just nine, the morning fine and
beautiful, the sun just above the line of the Old Town, the
horizon like burnished gold, the walls of the Castle white
in the light and almost black in the shade. All this made
a beautiful scene, and I dwelt on the power of the great
Creator who formed all, with a thought of all man had
done and was doing, when a child, barefooted, ragged, and
apparently on the verge of starvation, altered my whole
train of ideas. The poor child complained of want, and,
had I dared, I would have taken him to Sir William Jar-
dine, and given him breakfast at the hotel ; but the world
is so strange I feared this might appear odd, so I gave the
lad a shilling, and then bid him return with me to my
lodgings. I looked over all my garments, gave him a
large bundle of all that were at all worn, added five shil-
lings, and went my way feeling as if God smiled on me
through the face of the poor boy. The hotel was soon
reached, and I was with my friends; they had brought
Ducks, Hawks, and small birds for me to draw. After
breakfast we all went to my room, and I showed these
gentlemen how I set up my specimens, squared my paper,
and soon had them both at work drawing a Squirrel,
They called this a lesson. It was to me like a dream, that
I, merely a woodsman, should teach men so much my
superiors. They worked very well indeed, although I per-
ceived at once that Mr. Selby was more enthusiastic, and
therefore worked faster than Sir William ; but he finished
more closely, so that it was hard to give either the su-
premacy. They were delighted, especially Mr. Selby,
who exclaimed, " I will paint all our quadrupeds for my
own house." They both remained with me till we could
see no more. At their request I read them my letter on
the " Carrion Crow ; " but Dr. Brewster had altered it so

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 191

much that I was quite shocked at it, it made me quite sick.
He had, beyond question, greatly improved the style {iox
I have none), but he had destroyed the matter.

I dined at Major Dodd's with a complete set of military
gentry, generals, colonels, captains, majors, and, to my
surprise, young Pattison, my companion in the coach from
Manchester; he was Mrs. Dodd's cousin. I retired rather
early, for I did not care for the blustering talk of all these
warriors. Sir William Jardine and Mr. Lizars came to my
lodgings and announced that I was elected by universal
acclamation a member of the Society of Arts of the city
of Edinburgh.

Wednesday, December 20. Phrenology was the order of
the morning. I was at Brown Square, at the house of
George Combe by nine o'clock, and breakfasted most
heartily on mutton, ham, and good coffee, after which we
walked upstairs to his sanctum sanctornm. A beautiful
silver box containing the instruments for measuring the
cranium, was now opened, — the box and contents were a
present from the ladies who have attended Mr. Combe's
lectures during the past two years, — and I was seated front-
ing the light. Dr. Combe acted as secretary and George
Combe, thrusting his fingers under my hair, began search-
ing for miraculous bumps. My skull was measured as
minutely and accurately as I measure the bill or legs of
a new bird, and all was duly noted by the scribe. Then
with most exquisite touch each protuberance was found
as numbered by phrenologists, and also put down accord-
ing to the respective size. I was astounded when they
both gave me the results of their labors in writing, and
agreed in saying I was a strong and constant lover, an
affectionate father, had great veneration for talent, would
have made a brave general, that music did not equal
painting in my estimation, that I was generous, quick-
tempered, forgiving, and much else which I know to be
true, though how they discovered these facts is quite a

192 AUDUBON

puzzle to me. They asked my permission to read the
notes at their next meeting, to which I consented. I then
went to court to meet Mr. Simpson the advocate, who was
to introduce me to Francis JeftVey. I found ]\Ir. Simpson
and a hundred others in their raven gowns, and powdered,
curled wigs, but Mr. Jeffrey was not there. After doing
many things and writing much, I went this evening to Mr.
Lizars', and with him to Dr. Greville, the botanist.^ He
rarely leaves his house in winter and suffers much from
asthma; I found him wearing a green silk night-cap, and
we sat and talked of plants till 2 A. M. When I entered
my rooms 1 found Mr. Selby had sent me three most
beautiful Pheasants, and to-morrow I begin a painting of
these birds attacked by a Fox for the Exhibition in Lon-
don next March. Also I had a note from the Earl of
Morton to spend a day and night at his home at Dalma-
hoy, saying he would send his carriage for me next
Wednesday, one week hence.

Thursday, December 21. To-day I received letters from
De Witt Clinton and Thomas Sully in answer to mine in
forty-two days ; it seems absolutely impossible the distance
should have been covered so rapidly; yet it is so, as I
see by my memorandum book. I have written already
in reply to Thomas Sully, promising him a copy of my
first number when finished, say a month hence, with the
request that he forward it, in my name, to that Institution
which thought me unworthy to be a member. There is
no malice in my heart, and I wish no return or acknowl-
edgment from them. I am now determined never to be
a member of that Philadelphia Society, but I still think
talents, no matter how humble, should be fostered in one's
own country. The weather is clear, with a sharp frost.
What a number of Wild Ducks could I shoot on a morning
like this, with a little powder and plenty of shot ; but I had

^ Robert Kaye Greville, author of "Plants of Edinburgh" and other
botanical works, 1 794-1 866.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 193

other fish to fry. I put up a beautiful male Pheasant, and
outlined it on coarse gray paper to pounce it in proper
position on my canvas. Sir Wm. Jardine and Mr. Selby
were here drawing under my direction most of the day.
My time is so taken up, and daylight so short, that
though four hours is all I allow for sleep, I am behind-
hand, and have engaged an amanuensis. I go out so much
that I frequently dress three times a day, the greatest bore
in the world to me ; why I cannot dine in my blue coat as
well as a black one, I cannot say, but so it seems. Mrs.
Lizars came with a friend, Mr. Simpson, to invite me to a
phrenological supper, Dr. Charles Fox, looking very ill,
and two friends of Mr. Selby; the whole morning passed
away, no canvas came for me, and I could not have left my
guests to work, if it had. I looked often at the beautiful
Pheasant, with longing eyes, but when the canvas came and
my guests had gone, daylight went with them, so I had
lost a most precious day ; that is a vast deal in a man's
life-glass. The supper was really a phrenological party;
my head and Mr. Selby's were compared, and at twelve
o'clock he and I went home together. I was glad to feel
the frosty air and to see the stars. I think Mr. Selby one
of those rare men that are seldom met with, and when
one is found it proves how good some of our species may
be. Never before did I so long for a glimpse of our rich
magnolia woods ; I never before felt the want of a glance
at our forests as I do now ; could I be there but a moment,
hear the mellow Mock-bird, or the Wood-thrush, to me
always so pleasing, how happy should I be ; but alas ! I
am far from those scenes. I seem, in a measure, 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.

December '22, Friday. I painted a good portion to-day
though it was quite dark by three of the afternoon ; how
I long for the fair days of summer. My room to-day was

VOL. I. — 13

194 AUDUBON

a perfect levee ; it is Mr. Audubon here, and Mr. Audubon
there ; I only hope they will not make a conceited fool
of Mr. Audubon at last. I received every one as politely
as I could, palette and brushes in hand, and conducted
each in his turn to the door. I was called from my work
twenty-five times, but I was nevertheless glad to see one
and all. I supped with Sir William Jardine, Mr. Lizars,
and Mr. Moule, Sir William's uncle, at Barry's Hotel ;
we talked much of fish and fishing, for we were all sports-
men. I left at midnight and found at my room a long
letter from Charles Bonaparte.

Saturday, December 23. 1 had to grind up my own
colors this morning; I detest it, it makes me hot, fretful,
moody, and I am convinced has a bad effect on my mind.
However, I worked closely, but the day was shockingly
short; I cannot see before half-past nine, and am forced
to stop at three. . . .

The 24th and 25th I remained closely at my work
painting; on the 24th my drawings were all taken down
and my paintings also. I wrote to the president of the
Royal Institution and presented that society with my
large painting of the " Wild Turkeys." I should have
hesitated about offering it had I not been assured it had
some value, as Gaily, the picture dealer, offered me a
hundred guineas for it the previous day; and I was glad
to return some acknowledgment of the politeness of the
Institution in a handsome manner. My steady work
brought on a bad headache, but I rose early, took a walk
of many miles, and it has gone.

December 26. My steady painting, my many thoughts,
and my brief nights, bring on me now every evening
a weariness that I cannot surmount on command. This
is, I think, the first time in my life when, if needed, I could
not rouse myself from sleepiness, shake myself and be
ready for action in an instant; but now I cannot do that,
and I have difficulty often in keeping awake as evening

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 195

comes on ; this evening I had to excuse myself from
a gathering at Lady Hunter's, and came home intending
to go at once to bed ; but I lay down on my sofa for
a moment, fell asleep, and did not wake till after midnight,
when I found myself both cold and hungry. I have taken
some food and now will rest, though no longer sleepy,
for to-morrow I go to Earl Morton's, where I wish, at
least, to keep awake.

Dalmahoy, eight miles from EdinbiirgJi, December 27,
Wednesday. I am now seated at a little table in the
Yellow Bedchamber at Earl Morton's, and will give an
account of my day. After my breakfast, not anxious to
begin another Pheasant, I did some writing and paid some
visits, returned to my lodgings and packed a box for
America with various gifts, some mementos I had received,
and several newspapers, when Lord Morton's carriage was
announced. My porte-feuille and valise were carried
down, and I followed them and entered a large carriage
lined with purple morocco ; never was I in so comfortable
a conveyance before ; the ship that under easy sail glides
slowly on an even sea has a more fatiguing motion; I
might have been in a swinging hammock. We passed
the castle, through Charlotte Square, and out on the
Glasgow road for eight miles, all so swiftly that my
watch had barely changed the time from one hour to
another when the porter pushed open the gate of Dal-
mahoy. I now began to think of my meeting with the
man who had been great Chamberlain to the late Queen
Charlotte. I did not so much mind meeting the Countess,
for I had become assured of her sweetness of disposition
when we had met on previous occasions, but the Cham-
berlain I could not help dreading to encounter. This,
however, did not prevent the carriage from proceeding
smoothly round a great circle, neither did it prevent
me from seeing a large, square, half Gothic building with
two turrets, ornamented with great lions, and all the signs

196 AUDUBON

of heraldry belonging to Lord Morton. The carriage
stopped, a man in livery opened the door, and I walked
in, giving him my hat and gloves and my American stick
(that, by the bye, never leaves me unless I leave it). Up-
stairs I went and into the drawing-room. The Countess
rose at once and came to greet me, and then presented
Lord Morton to me — yes, really not me to him ; for
the moment I was taken aback, I had expected something
so different. I had formed an idea that the Earl was
a man of great physical strength and size ; instead I 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 his situation and
begged he would be seated, after which I was introduced
to the mother of the Countess, Lady Boulcar, and I took
a seat on a sofa that I thought would swallow me up,
so much down swelled around mc. 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, and a telescope, with hundreds of ornaments.'
As I glanced at the pictures I could sec the Queen of
England fronting Mary of Scotland, a chamberlain here,
a duke there, and in another place a beautiful head
by Rembrandt. Van Dyke had not been forgotten ;
Claude Lorraine had some landscapes here also; while
the celebrated Titian gave a lustre to the whole. I rose
to take a closer view, the Countess explaining all to me,
but conceive my surprise when, looking from the middle
window, I saw at the horizon the castle and city of Edin-
burgh, a complete miniature eight miles off, a landscape
of fields, water, and country between us and it. Luncheon
was announced ; I am sure if my friends complain that

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 197

I eat but little, they must allow that I eat often ; never
were such lands for constant meals as England and Scot-
land. The Countess of Boulcar rolled Lord Morton in
his castored chair, I gave my arm to Lady Morton, we
crossed a large antechamber, into a dining-room quite
rich in paintings, and at present with a sumptuous re-
past. Three gentlemen, also visitors, entered by another
door, — Messrs. Hays, Ramsay, and a young clergyman
whose name I forget. After luncheon my drawings were
produced, the Earl was rolled into a good position for
light, and my " Book of Nature " was unbuckled. I am
not going to repeat praises again. The drawings seen,
we adjourned to the drawing-room and the Countess
begged me to give her a lesson to-morrow, which I shall
most gladly do. The Countess is not exactly beautiful,
but she is good-looking, with fine eyes, a brilliant com-
plexion, and a good figure ; she is a woman of superior
intellect and conversation, and I should think about forty
years of age ; she was dressed in a rich crimson gown,
and her mother in black satin. At six I re-entered the
house, having taken a short walk with the gentlemen, and
was shown to my room. " The yellow room," I heard
the Countess say to the lackey who showed me the way.
My valise had been unpacked, and all was most com-
fortable, and truly yellow in this superb apartment. The
bed was hung with yellow of some rich material, and
ornamented with yellow crowns, and was big enough for
four of my size ; a large sofa and large arm-chairs, all
yellow, the curtains, dressing-table, all indeed was yellow,
intensified by the glow of a bright wood fire. My even-
ing toilet is never a very lengthy matter, — for in my
opinion it is a vile loss of time to spend as many minutes
in arranging a cravat as a hangman does in tying his
knot, — and I was ready long before seven, when I again
gave the Countess my arm, and Lord Morton was again
rolled in, in his chair. The waiters, I think there were

198 AUDUBON

four, were powdered and dressed in deep red, almost
maroon liveries, except the butler, who was in black, and
who appeared to me to hand fresh plates continuously.
After a dinner of somewhat more than an hour, the ladies
retired with the Earl, and I remained with the three
gentlemen to talk and drink wine. The conversation was
entirely of antiquities. Mr. Hays is a deeply learned and
interesting man, besides being quite an original. At the
hour of ten we joined the Countess, the Earl having
retired, and I have been much interested looking at the
signatures of the kings of old, as well as that of Marie,
Queen of Scots, and those of many other celebrated men
and women, while two of the gentlemen were examining
a cabinet of antique coins. The Countess looked very
brilliant, being attired in white satin with a crimson turban.
At midnight (coffee having been served about eleven),
the ladies bid us good-night, and we sat down to talk,
and drink, if we wished to, Madeira wine. What a life!
I could not stand this ceremony daily, I long for the
woods; but I hope this life will enable me to enjoy them
more than ever at a future period, so I must bear it
patiently. After a few moments I left the gentlemen, and
came to my yellow room.

Thursday, December 28. Daylight came and I opened
all my yellow curtains, and explored my room by daylight;
and I have forgotten to tell thee that the dressing-room,
with its large porcelain tub and abundance of clear water,
opened from it, and was warm with crimson of the color of
the Countess's turban. The chimney-piece was decorated
with choice shells, and above it a painting representing
Queen Mary in her youth. The house seemed very still,
but after dressing I decided to go down, for the morning
was clear and the air delightful. As I entered the drawing-
room I saw two housemaids busily cleaning; the younger
saw me first, and I heard her say, " The American gentle-
man is down already," when they both vanished. I went

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 199

out to look about the grounds, and in about an hour was
oined by the young clergyman, and a walk was immedi-
ately undertaken. The Hares started before our dogs, and
passing through various woods, we came by a turn to the
stables, where I saw four superbly formed Abyssinian
horses, with tails reaching to the earth, and the legs of one
no larger than those of an Elk. The riding-room was yet
lighted, and the animals had been exercised that morning.
The game-keeper was unkennelling his dogs; he showed
me a large tame Fox.

Then through other woods we proceeded to the Manor,
now the habitat of the great falconer JoJin Anderson and
his Hawks. He had already received orders to come to
the Hall at eleven to show me these birds in their full
dress. We visited next the hot-houses, where roses were
blooming most sweetly, and then following a brook reached
the Hall about ten. The ladies were in the drawing-room,
and the Earl came in, when we went to breakfast. Neither
at this meal nor at luncheon are seen any waiters. The
meal over, all was bustle in the drawing-room ; chalks,
crayons, papers, all required was before me in a few
minutes, and I began to give the Countess a most unneces-
sary lesson, for she drew much better than I did ; but I
taught her how to rub with cork, and prepare for water-
color. The Earl sat by watching us, and then asked to see
my drawings again. The falconer came, and I saw the
Falcons ready for the chase. He held the birds on his
gloved hands, with bells and hoods and crests ; but the
morning was not fit for a flight, so I lost that pleasure.
The Countess asked for my subscription book and wrote
with a steel pen, " The Countess of Morton ; " she wished
to pay for the first number now, but this I declined. She
promised me letters for England, with which offer I was
much pleased. Desiring some fresh Pheasants for my
work, she immediately ordered some killed for me. After
luncheon I walked out to see a herd of over a hundred

200 AUDUBON

brown Deer, that like sheep were feeding within a few
hundred paces of the Hall. I approached quite close to
them, and saw that many had shed their horns ; they
scampered off when they sighted me, knowing perhaps
what a hunter I was ! Lady Morton wished me to remain
longer, but as I had promised to dine with Captain Hall I
could not do so; it was therefore decided that I should
return next week to spend another night and give another
lesson. My ride to Edinburgh was soon over, and a letter
and a book from Charles Bonaparte were at my lodgings.
Captain Hall told me at dinner that he was a midshipman
on board the Leander when Pierce was killed off New
York, and when I was on my way from France, when our
captain, seeing the British vessel, wore about round Long
Island and reached New York by Hell Gate. There is a
curious notice about me by Professor Wilson in " Black-
wood's Magazine."

Friday, December 29. I painted all day, and did this most
happily and cheerfully, for I had received two long letters
from my Lucy, of October 14 and 23. The evening was
spent with Captain Hall, Mr. Lizars, and his brother.

Saturday, December 30. So stormy a day that I have
not been disturbed by visitors, nor have I been out, but
painted all day.

Sunday, December 31. This evening I dined at Captain
Hall's, especially for the purpose of being introduced to
Francis Jeffrey, the principal writer in the " Edinburgh
Review." P'ollowing the advice given me I did not take
my watch, lest it should be stolen from me on my return,
for I am told this is always a turbulent night in Edinburgh.
Captain Hall and his wife received me with their usual
cordiality, and we were soon joined by Mr. McCulloch, a
writer on Political Economy and a plain, agreeable man.
Then Francis Jeffrey and his wife entered ; he is a small
(not to say tiny) being, with a woman under one arm and
a hat under the other. He bowed very seriously indeed,

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 20I

so much so that I conceived him to be fully aware of his
weight in society. His looks were shrewd, but I thought
his eyes almost cunning. He talked a great deal and very
well, yet I did not like him ; but he may prove better than
I think, for this is only my first impression. Mrs. Jeffrey
was nervous and very much dressed. If I mistake not
Jeffrey was shy of me, and I of him, for he has used me
very cavalierly. When I came I brought a letter of intro-
duction to him; I called on him, and, as he was absent, left
the letter and my card. When my exhibition opened I
enclosed a card of admittance to him, with another of my
own cards. He never came near me, and I never went
near him; for \{ he was Jeffrey, /was Audubon, and felt
quite independent of all the tribe of Jeffreys in England,
Scotland, and Ireland, put together. This evening, how-
ever, he thanked me for my card politely. At dinner he
sat opposite to me and the conversation was on various
topics. America, however, was hardly alluded to, as when-
ever Captain Hall tried to bring that country into our
talk, Mr. Jeffrey most skilfully brought up something else.
After coffee had been served Mr. Jeffrey made some in-
quiries about my work, and at ten I took my leave, having
positively seen the little man whose fame is so great both
in Scotland and abroad. I walked home briskly ; this was
the eve of a New Year, and in Edinburgh they tell me it
is rather a dangerous thing to be late in the streets, for
many vagabonds are abroad at this time, and murders and
other fearful deeds take place. To prevent these as far as
possible, the watch is doubled, and an unusual quantity of
gas-lights are afforded. I reached my room, sat down and
outlined a Pheasant, to save daylight to-morrow, and was
about going to bed, when Mrs. Dickie came in and begged
I would wait till twelve o'clock to take some toddy with
her and Miss Campbell, my American boarding com-
panion, to wish all a happy New Year. I did so, of course,
and had I sat up all night, and written, or drawn, or sat

202 AUDUBON

thinking by my fire, I should have done as well, for the
noise kept increasing in the streets, and the confusion was
such that until morning I never closed my eyes. At early
morning this first day of January, 1827, I received from
Captain Hall three volumes of his voyages, and from the
Countess of Morton four beautiful Pheasants and a basket
of rare hot-house flowers.

Edinbicrgh, January 1, 1827, Monday} A Happy New
Year to you, my book. Bless me ! how fair you look this
very cold day. Which way, pray, are you travelling? Trav-
elling wherever chance or circumstance may lead you?
Well, I will take you for my companion, and we will talk
together on all kinds of subjects, and you will help me to
remember, for my memory is bad, very bad. I never can
recollect the name of an enemy, for instance ; it is only my
friends whom I can remember, and to write down some-
what of their kind treatment of me is a delight I love to
enjoy.

Jannaij 6, Saturday. Ever since the first day of this
month I have been most closely engaged at my painting of
the " Pheasants Attacked by a Fox." I have, however,
spent another day and night at Dalmahoy. I have written
a long paper for the Wcrnerian Society on the habits of
Alligators, and am always very weary at night.

January 7. I keep at my painting closely, and for a
wonder was visited by Dr. Bridges. I have labored hard,
but my work is bad ; some inward feeling tells me when it
is good. No one, I think, paints in my method ; I, who
have never studied but by piecemeal, 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 of the truth of the position,
I take my palette and work as rapidly as possible ; the

1 This entry begins a new blank book, in shape and size like a ledger,
every line of which is closely written.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 203

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.

Monday, 8th. I rose this morning t^vo and a half hours
before day, and wrote much before breakfast. Thanks to
my good spirit not a soul called upon me this day, and I
brushed away without losing a moment of the precious
light of these short days. This evening I saw my plate of
the Wild Turkey, and went to hear Captain Basil Hall lec-
ture at the Royal Society on the Trade Winds. The prac-
tical as well as theoretical knowledge of this learned man
rendered this a most valuable evening to me, I was intro-
duced to Mr. Perceval, the son of the King of England's
Secretary of State,^ who was shamefully and barbarously
murdered some years since.

Tuesday, 9th. Mr. Ha}'s, the Dalmahoy antiquarian,
called on me, and brought me a copy of Bewick's " Quadru-
peds." At eight this evening I went to the Society of Arts,
of which I have been elected a member. Here I saw a
capital air-gun, and a steam-carriage in full motion ; but /
had to operate, and showed my manner of putting up my
birds with wires, and I positively shook so that I feared I
should not be able to proceed to the termination ; this
bashfulness is dreadful, how am I ever to overcome it?

January 10. The weather has been most strange, at
times so dark that I could not see to paint, and suddenly
the sun shone so brightly that I was dazzled. It rained,
it blew, it snowed ; we have had all seasons. A Mr. Bu-
chanan from London came to see my work, and Professor
Wilson at the same time ; both liked my painting, and
strangely enough the two had known each other twenty
years ago. I went to the theatre to see Miss Foote and
Mr. Murray ; both were much applauded, and the house
was crowded. I am very fond of the theatre ; I think it

^ Spencer Perceval, bom 1762, assassinated in the lobby of the House
of Commons, May 11, 1812.

204 AUDUBON

the best of all ways to spend an evening for dclassemcnt.
I often find myself when there laughing or crying like a
child.

Jamiary 11. Scarce daylight at half-past seven, but I
was up and away with a coal porter and his cart into the
country. I wanted some large, rough stones for my fore-
ground ; this was my reason for my excursion. I passed a
small, dirty, and almost lost building, where the union be-
tween Scotland and England was ratified. At one o'clock
Professor Russell called in his carriage with Mr. Lizars, then
we went to see a picture of the famous Hondekoeter. To
me the picture was destitute of life ; the animals seemed
to me to be drawn from poorly stuft"ed specimens, but the
coloring, the finish, the manner, the effect, was most beau-
tiful, and but for the lack of Nature in the animals was
a picture which commanded admiration and attention.
Would that I could paint like Hondekoeter ! At eight
I went to the Phrenological Society, and may safely say
that never before was I in such company; the deepest
philosophers in this city of learning were there, and
George Combe read an essay on the mental powers of
man, as illustrated by phrenological researches, that as-
tounded me; it lasted one and a half hours, and will re-
main in my mind all my life.

January 12. I\Iy painting has now arrived at the diffi-
cult point. To finish highly without destroying the gen-
eral eft"ect, or to give the general effect and care not about
the finishing? I am quite puzzled. Sometimes I like the
picture, then a heat rises to my face and I think it a mis-
erable daub. This is the largest piece I have ever done ;
as to the birds, as far as tJicy are concerned I am quite sat-
isfied, but the ground, the foliage, the sky, the distance are
dreadful. To-day I was so troubled about this that at two
o'clock, when yet a good hour of daylight remained, I left
it in disgust, and walked off to Dr. Bridges. I passed on
my way the place where a man was murdered the night

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 205

before last; a great multitude of people were looking at
the spot, gazing like fools, for there was nothing to be
seen. How is it that our sages tell us our species is much
improved? If we murder now in cool blood, and in a most
terrifying way, our brother, we are not a jot forward since
the time of Cain.

January 13. Painted five hours, and at two o'clock
accompanied by Mr. Lizars, reached the University and
entered the rooms of the Wernerian Society with a paper
on the habits of Alligators in my pocket, to be read to the
members and visitors present. This I read after the busi-
ness of the meeting had been transacted, and, thank God,
after the effort of once beginning, I went on unfalteringly
to the end. In the evening I went with Air. Lizars to see
"As You Like It." Miss Foote performed and also Mr.
Murray, but the house was so crowded that I could scarce
see.

January 1^. Could not work on my picture, for I have
no white Pheasant for a key-stone of light, but Professor
Jameson called and said he would write for one for me to
the Duke of Buccleugh. After receiving many callers I went
to Mr. O'Neill's to have a cast taken of my head. My
coat and neckcloth were taken off, my shirt collar turned
down, I was told to close my eyes; Mr. O'Neill took a
large brush and oiled my whole face, the almost liquid
plaster of Paris was poured over it, as I sat uprightly till
the whole was covered ; my nostrils only were exempt. In
a few moments the plaster had acquired the needful con-
sistency, when it was taken off by pulling it down gently.
The whole operation lasted hardly five minutes; the only
inconvenience felt was the weight of the material pulling
downward over my sinews and flesh. On my return from
the Antiquarian Society that evening, I found my face on
the table, an excellent cast.

January 17 to Sunday, 21st. John Syme, the artist, asked
me if I did not wish to become an associate member of

206 AUDUBON

the Scottish Artists. I answered, "Yes." I have promised
to paint a picture of Black Cock for their exhibition, and
with that view went to market, where for fifteen shillings I
purchased two superb males and one female. I have been
painting pretty much all day and every day. Among my
visitors I have had the son of Smollett, the great writer, a
handsome young gentleman. Several noblemen came to
see my Pheasants, and all promised me a white one. Profes-
sor Russell called and read me a letter from Lord ,

giving me leave to see the pictures at his hall, but I, poor
Audubon, go nowhere without an invitation.

January 22, Monday. I was painting diligently when
Captain Hall came in, and said: " Put on your coat, and
come with me to Sir Walter Scott ; he wishes to see you
now." In a moment I was ready, for I really believe my
coat and hat came to me instead of my going to them.
My heart trembled ; I longed for the meeting, yet wished
it over. Had not his wondrous pen penetrated my soul
with the consciousness that here was a genius from God's
hand? I felt overwhelmed at the thought of meeting Sir
Walter, the Great Unknown. We reached the house, and
a powdered waiter was asked if Sir Walter were in.^ We
were shown forward at once, and entering a very small
room Captain Hall said : " Sir Walter, I have brought Mr,
Audubon." Sir Walter came forward, pressed my hand
warmly, and said he was " glad to have the honor of meet-
ing me." His long, loose, silvery locks struck me ; he
looked like Franklin at his best. He also reminded me of

* "Jan. 22, 1827. A visit from Basil Hall with Mr. Audubon the orni-
thologist, 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, no glim-
mer 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 sim-
plicity is the predominant characteristic." ( Journal of Sir Walter Scott,
vol. i., p. 343.)

AUDUBON.

From the portrait by Henry Inman. Now in the possebsion of the family.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 20/

Benjamin West ; he had the great benevolence of Wm.
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.
After a few minutes had elapsed he begged Captain Hall
to ring a bell ; a servant came and was asked to bid Miss
Scott come to see Mr. Audubon, Miss Scott came, black-
haired and black-dressed, not handsome but said to be
highly accomplished, and she is the daughter of Sir Walter
Scott. There was much conversation. I talked little, but,
believe me, I listened and observed, careful if ignorant. I
cannot write more now. — I have just returned from the
Royal Society. Knowing that I was a candidate for the
electorate of the society, I felt very uncomfortable and
would gladly have been hunting on Tawapatee Bottom.

Jamcary 23, Tuesday. My first visitor was Mr. Hays
the antiquarian, who needed my assistance, or rather my
knowledge of French in the translation of a passage re-
lating to " le droit du seigneur." Dr. Combe called later
and begged me to go to Mr. Joseph, the sculptor, with
him, and through a great fall, of snow we went through
Windsor Street, one of the handsomest in this beautiful
city. Mr. Joseph was in, and I saw an uncommonly good
bust of Sir Walter, one of Lord Morton, and several
others. I have powerfully in my mind to give my picture
of the " Trapped Otter " to Mrs. Basil Hall, and, by Wash-
ington, I will. No one deserves it more, and I cannot
receive so many favors without trying to make some
return.

208 A UDUBON

January 2!{.. My second visit to Sir Walter Scott was
much more agreeable than my first. My portfolio and its
contents were matters on which I could speak substan-
tially,^ and I found him so willing to level himself with me
for a while that the time spent at his home was agreeable
and valuable. His daughter improved in looks the mo-
ment she spoke, having both vivacity and good sense.

Jamiary 28. Yesterday I had so many visitors that I
was quite fatigued ; my rooms were full all the time, yet I
work away as if they were so many cabbages, except for a
short time taken to show them a few drawings, give them
chairs, and other civil attentions. In the evening I went to
the theatre to see the " Merchant of Venice ; " the night
was violently stormy, the worst I remember for years. I
thought of the poor sailors, what hard lives they have.

January 30, Tuesday. The days begin to show a val-
uable augmentation. I could this morning begin work at
eight, and was still at my easel at four. A man may do a
good deal on a painting in eight hours provided he has the
power of laying the true tints at once, and does not muddy
his colors or need glazing afterwards. Now a query arises.
Did the ancient artists and colorists ever glaze their work?
I sometimes think they did not, and I am inclined to think
thus because their work is of great strength of standing,
and extremely solid and confirmed on the canvas — a proof
with me that they painted clean and bright at once, but
that this once they repeated, perhaps, as often as three
times. Glazing certainly is a beautiful w'ay of effecting
transparency, particularly over shadowy parts, but I fre-

^ "Januar}- 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. . . . This sojourner
of the desert had been in the woods for months together. He preferred as-
sociating with the Indians to the company of the settlers; verj' justly, I
daresay, for a civilized man of the lower order when thrust back on the
savage state becomes worse than a savage." ( Journal of Sir Walter Scott,
vol. i., p. 345.)

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 209

quently fear the coating being so thin, and that time preys
on these parts more powerfully than on those unglazed, so
that the work is sooner destroyed by its appHcation than
without it. I am confident Sir Joshua Reynolds' pictures
fade so much in consequence of his constant glazing.
Lord Hay, who has only one arm, called this morning, and
promised me White Pheasants by Saturday morning. So
many people have called that I have not put a foot out
to-day.

January 31, Wednesday. I had the delight of receiv-
ing letters from home to-day ; how every word carried me
to my beloved America. Oh, that I could be with you
and see those magnificent forests, and listen to sweet
Wood Thrushes and the Mock-Birds so gay !

February 1. I have just finished a picture of Black
Cock sunning and dusting themselves, with a view in the
background of Loch Lomond, nine feet by six, for which
I am offered two hundred guineas. It will be exhibited at
the Ro}'al Institute rooms next week, and the picture of
the Pheasants, the same size, at the Scottish Society of
Artists, of which I am now an associate member.

February 5. None of my promised White Pheasants
have come, but I have determined the picture shall be
finished if I have to paint in a black Crow instead. Dr.
Brewster spoke to me of a camera lucida to enable me to
outline birds with great rapidity. I would like such an
instrument if merely to save time in hot weather, when
outlining correctly is more than half the work. At eight
o'clock I entered the rooms of the Royal Society. I opened
my large sheets and laid them on the table ; the astonish-
ment of every one was great, and I saw with pleasure many
eyes look from them to me. The business of the society
was then done behind closed doors ; but when these were
opened and we were called into the great room. Captain
Hall, taking my hand, led me to a seat immediately oppo-
site to Sir Walter Scott; then, Lucy, I had a perfect view of

VOL. I. — 14

2IO AUDUBON

that great man, and I studied from Nature Nature's noblest
work. After a lecture on the introduction of the Greek
language into England, the president. Sir Walter, rose and
we all followed his example. Sir Walter came to me, shook
my hand cordially, and asked me how the cold weather of
Edinburgh agreed with me. This mark of attention was
observed by other members, who looked at me as if I had
been a distinguished stranger.

February 9. I have been, and am yet, greatly depressed,
yet why I am so it is impossible for me to conceive,
unless it be that slight vexations, trifling in themselves, are
trying to me, because, alas ! I am only a very, very com-
mon man. I dined to-night at Professor Jameson's, and
as my note said " with a few friends," was surprised to

find thirty besides myself. The engineer, Mr. S , was

here, and many other noted men, including the famous
Professor Leslie, ^ an enormous mass of flesh and an ex-
tremely agreeable man, who had been in Virginia many
years ago, but recollects those days well.

February 10. I visited the Royal Institution this morn-
ing, and saw my Black Cocks over the first of the first-
room doors. I know well that the birds are drawn as well
as any birds ever have been; but what a difference exists
between drawing one bird or a dozen and amalgamating
them with a sky, a landscape, and a well adapted foreground.
Who has not felt a sense of fear while trying to combine
all this? I looked at my work long, then walked round the
room, when my eyes soon reached a picture by Landseer,
the death of a stag. I saw much in it of the style of those
men who know how to handle a brush and carry a good
effect; but Nature was not there, although a Stag, three
dogs, and a Highlander were introduced on the canvas.
The Stag had his tongue out and his mouth shut ! The
principal dog, a greyhound, held the Deer by one car

1 Sir John Leslie, 1766-1832, Scottish geometer and natural philosopher
and voluminous author on these subjects.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 211

just as if a loving friend ; the young hunter has 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. To me, or to my friends Dr. Pope or Mr,
Bourgeat such a picture is quite a farce ; not so here how-
ever. Many other pictures drew my attention, and still
more so the different artists who came in with brushes
and palettes to tickle their pictures. I was to read a paper
at the Wernerian Society on the Rattlesnake, but had not
had time to finish it; nevertheless I went to the society
rooms, which were crowded. I was sorry I was not pre-
pared to read to those assembled that a Rattlesnake
rattled his tail, not to give knowledge to man of his pres-
ence, but because he never strikes without rattling, and
that destitute of that appendage he cannot strike at all.
The wind blows a doleful tune and I feel utterly alone.

Mo7iday, February 12. Mr. Lizars insisted on my going
to the Antiquarian Society, saying it was usual for a mem-
ber newly elected to be present on the first occasion
possible. I went, of course, but felt very sheepish withal.
We had an excellent paper by Mr. Hays respecting a bell
found in Argyle, of very ancient date.

Tuesday, February 13. This was the grand, long prom-
ised, and much wished-for day of the opening of the
Exhibition at the rooms of the Royal Institution. At one
o'clock I went, the doors were just opened, and in a few
minutes the rooms were crowded. Sir Walter Scott was
present; he came towards me, shook my hand cordially,
and pointing to Landseer's picture said : " Many such
scenes, Mr. Audubon, have I witnesssd in my younger
days." We talked much of all about us, and I would
gladly have joined him in a glass of wine, but my foolish
habits prevented me, and after inquiring of his daughter's
health, I left him, and shortly afterwards the rooms ; for I
had a great appetite, and although there were tables
loaded with delicacies, and I saw the ladies particularly

212 AUDUBON

eating freely, I must say to my shame / dared not lay my
fingers on a single thing. In the evening I went to the
theatre where I was much amused by " The Comedy of
Errors," and afterwards " The Green Room." I admire
Miss Neville's singing very much; and her manners also;
there is none of the actress about her, but much of the
lady.

Ticesday, 20th. A week has passed without writing here
because I have done nothing else but write — many letters
for Captain Hall, and at his request a paper to be read at
the Natural History Society. I pitched on the " Habits of
the Wild Pigeon." I began on Wednesday, and it took me
until half-past three of the morning, and after a few hours'
sleep I rose to correct it, which was needed, I can assure
thee. Were it not for the facts it contains, I would not
give a cent for it, nor anj'body else, I dare say. I positively
brought myself so much among the Pigeons and in the
woods of America that my ears were as if really filled
with the noise of their wings; I was tired and my eyes
ached. I dined at a Mr. Tytlcr's and met among the guests
Mr. Cruden, brother of the compiler of the famous con-
cordance. On Sunday I made for the seashore, and walked
eight miles; the weather was extremely cold, my ears and
nose I thought would drop off, yet I went on. Monday
Captain Hall called to speak to me about my paper on
Pigeons; he complained that I expressed the belief that
Pigeons were possessed of affection and tcnderest love, and
that this raised the brute species to a level with man. O
man ! misled, self-conccitcd being, when wilt thou keep
within the sphere of humility that, with all thy vices and
wickedness about thee, should be thine. At the exhibi-
tion rooms I put up my drawing of the Wild Pigeons and
Captain Hall read my paper. I was struck with the silence
and attention of the audience. The president invited me
to supper with him, but I was too excited, so excused
myself.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 213

February 21. I wrote again nearly all day, and in the
evening went to the theatre to see " The School for Grown
Children."

February 23. Young Hutchinson came about the middle
of the day, and I proposed we should have an early dinner
and a long walk after for the sake of exercise, that I now
find much needed. VVe proceeded towards the village of
Portobello, distant three miles, the weather delightful, the
shore dotted with gentlemen on horseback galloping over
the sand in all directions. The sea calm and smooth, had
many fishing-boats. The village is a summer resort, built
handsomely of white stone, and all was quietness. From
here we proceeded across country to Duddingston, about
a mile and a half, to see the skaters on the lake, a mere
duck puddle; but the ice was too thin, and no skaters
were there. We gradually ascended the hill called Arthur's
Seat, and all of a sudden came in full view of the fair city.
We entered in the Old Town and reached my lodgings
by the North Bridge. I was quite tired, and yet I had
not walked more than ten miles. I thought this strange,
and wondered if it could be the same body that travelled
over one hundred and sixty-five miles in four days without
a shade of fatigue. The cities do not tempt me to walk,
and so I lose the habit.

February 2^. To the Wernerian Society at two o'clock,
my drawing of the Mocking-Bird with me. The room was
completely filled, and a paper on the rhubarb of commerce
was read ; it was short, and then Professor Jameson called my
name. I rose, and read as distinctly as I could my paper
on Rattlesnakes, a job of three quarters of an hour. Hav-
ing finished I was cheered by all, and the thanks of the
Assembly unanimously voted. My cheeks burned, and after
a few questions had been put me by the president and some
of the gentlemen present, I handed my manuscript to
Professor Jameson, and was glad to be gone. Young Mur-
ray, the son of the London publisher, accompanied me to

214 AUDUBON

the Scottish Society Exhibition, but I soon left him as so
many eyes were directed to me that I was miserable.

February 27. It blew and rained tremendously, and
this morning I parted from Captain Hall, who goes to
London. His leaving Edinburgh affects me considerably;
he is a kind, substantial friend, and when we finally shook
hands, I doubt not he knew the feeling in my heart. This
evening was spent at Mr. Joseph's the sculptor. There
were a number of guests, and music and dancing was pro-
posed. My fame as a dancer produced, I am sure, false
expectations ; nevertheless I found myself on the floor
with Mrs. Joseph, a lively, agreeable little lady, much my
junior, and about my Lucy's age. After much dancing,
during which light refreshments were served, we sat down
to supper at twelve o'clock, and we did not leave till
three.

February 28. I have been reading Captain Hall's "Voy-
ages and Travels," and going m jch about to rest my eyes
and head ; but these few days of idleness have completely
sickened me, and have given me what is named the Blue
Devils so effectually that the sooner I drive them off the
better.

March 1. Mr. Kidd,^ the landscape artist, breakfasted
with me, and we talked painting a long time. I admired
him for his talents at so early a period of life, he being
only nineteen. What would I have been now if equally
gifted by nature at that age? But, sad reflection, I have
been forced constantly to hammer and stammer as if in
opposition to God's will, and so therefore am nothing
now but poor Audubon. I asked him to come to me
daily to eat, drink, and give me the pleasure of his com-
pany and advice. I told him my wish was so intense to
improve in the delightful art of painting that I should be-
gin a new picture to-morrow, and took down my portfolio
to look for one of my drawings to copy in oil. He had
1 Joseph B. Kidd, who later copied many of Audubon's birds.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 21 5

never seen my work, and his bright eyes gazed eagerly on
what he saw with admiration.

Alarch 2. Mr. Kidd breakfasted with me, and we
painted the whole day,

March 3. I painted as constantly to-day, as it snowed
and blew hard outside my walls. I thought frequently
that the devils must be at the handles of y^iolus' bellows,
and turned the cold blasts into the Scotch mists to freeze
them into snow. It is full twenty years since I saw the
like before. I dined at Mr. Ritchie's, reaching his house
safely through more than two feet of snow.

March 4- The weather tolerably fair, but the snow lay
deep. The mails from all quarters were stopped, and the
few people that moved along the streets gave a fuller idea
of winter in a northern clime than anything I have seen
for many years. Mr. Hays called for me, and wc went to
breakfast with the Rev. Mr. Newbold, immediately across
the street. I was trundled into a sedan chair to church.
I had never been in a sedan chair before, and I like to
try, as well as see, all things on the face of this strange
world of ours ; but so long as I have two legs and feet
below them, never will I again enter one of these machines,
with their quick, short, up-and-down, swinging motion, re-
sembling the sensations felt during the great earthquake in
Kentucky. But Sydney Smith preached. Oh ! what a
soul there must be in the body of that great man. What
sweet yet energetic thoughts, what goodness he must pos-
sess. It was a sermon to me. He made me smile, and he
made me think deeply. He pleased me at times by painting
my foibles with due care, and again I felt the color come
to my cheeks as he portrayed my sins. I left the church
full of veneration not only towards God, but towards the
wonderful man who so beautifully illustrates his noblest
handiwork. After lunch Mr. Hays and I took a walk
towards Portobello, tumbling and pitching in the deep
snow. I saw Sky-Larks, poor things, caught in snares as

2l6 AUDUBON

easily — as men are caught. For a wonder I have done
no work to-day.

March 5, As a lad I had a great aversion to anything
English or Scotch, and I remember when travelling with
my father to Rochefort in January, iSoo, I mentioned this
to him, for to him, thank God, I always told all my
thoughts and expressed all my ideas. How well I re-
member his reply : " Laforest, thy blood will cool in
time, and thou wilt be surprised to see how gradually pre-
judices are obliterated, and friendships acquired, towards
those that at one time we held in contempt. Thou hast
not been in England ; I have, and it is a fine country."
What has since taken place? I have admired and esteemed
many English and Scotch, and therefore do I feel proud
to tell thee that I am a Fellow of the Royal Society of
Edinburgh. My day has been rather dull, though I painted
assiduously. This evening I went to the Society of Arts,
where beautiful experiments were shown by the inventors
themselves; a steam coach moved with incomprehensible
regularity. I am undetermined whether to go to Glasgow
on my way to Dublin, or proceed overland to Newcastle,
Liverpool, Oxford, Cambridge, and so on to London, but
I shall move soon.

March 7. This evening I was introduced to Sydney
Smith, the famous preacher of last Sunday, and his fair
daughters, and heard them sing most sweetly. I offered
to show them some of my drawings and they appointed
Saturday at one o'clock. The wind is blowing as if intent
to destroy the fair city of Edinburgh.

March 8. The weather was dreadful last night and still
continues so ; the snow is six feet deep in some parts of
the great roads, and I was told at the Post Office that
horsemen sent with the mail to London had been obliged
to abandon their horses, and proceed on foot. Wrote a
letter to Sir Walter Scott requesting a letter of introduc-
tion, or shall I S2cy cndorsciiietii, and his servant brought me

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 2iy

a gratifying reply at eight of the evening. At one Dr.
Spence came with Miss Neville, the delightful singer at
the theatre, her mother, and Miss Hamilton. They sat
with me some time, and I was glad to see near-by the
same Miss Neville whom I admire so much at the play. I
found her possessed of good sense and modesty, and like
her much; her mother asked me to spend the evening of
next Saturday with them, and said her daughter would
sing for me with pleasure. Had a note from Sydney
Smith; the man should study economy; he would destroy
more paper in a day than Franklin in a week; but all great
men are more or less eccentric. Walter Scott writes a
diminutive hand, very difficult to read. Napoleon a large,
scrawling one, still more difficult, and Sydney Smith goes
up-hill all the way with large strides.

March 9. My first work this day was to send as a
present to Miss Anne Scott a copy of my first number.
Professor Wilson called and promised to come again on
Monday.

March 10. I visited Mr. James B. Fraser, ^ a great
traveller in Asia and Africa, and saw there a large col-
lection of drawings and views in water-colors of the
scenery of these countries. The lecture at the Wernerian
Society was very interesting ; it was on the uses of cotton
in Egypt, and the origin of the name in the English lan-
guage. I dined at Mr. Neill's ; among the guests was a Mr.
Blair, the superintendent of the Botanical Gardens here ;
he has been in different parts of America frequently. There
were several other gentlemen present interested in like
subjects, and we talked of little else than trees and exotic
plants, birds and beasts ; in fact it was a naturalists* dinner,
but a much better one than naturalists generally have who
study in the woods. I was obliged to leave early, as I had
an engagement at Miss Neville's. Tea was served, after
which Miss Neville rose, and said she would open the
1 James Baillie Fraser, 1783-1S56, Scottish writer of travels.

2l8 AUDUBON

concert. I was glad to see her simply but beautifully
dressed in a plain white gown of fine muslin, with naught
but her fine auburn hair loose in large curls about her neck,
and a plain scarf of a light-rose color. She sang and
played most sweetly ; the gentlemen present were all more
or less musical, and we had fine glees, duets, trios. The
young lady scarcely left off singing, for no sooner was a
song finished than some one asked for another ; she im-
mediately replied, " Oh, yes," and in a moment the room
was filled with melody. I thought she must be fatigued,
and told her so, but she replied: " Mr. Audubon, singing
is like painting ; it never fatigues if one is fond of it, and I
am." After a handsome supper we had more singing, and
it was past two o'clock when I rose, shook hands with
Miss Neville, bowed to the company, and made my exit.

MarcJi 12. I can scarcely believe that this day, there
is in many places six feet of snow, yet with all this no
invitation is ever laid aside, and last evening I went to
dinner in a coach drawn by four horses. At noon to-day
I went with Mr. Lizars to the Assembly Rooms, to see the
fencing. About a thousand persons, all in full dress,
gathered in a few minutes, and a circle being formed,
eight young men came in, and went through the first
principles of fencing; we had fine martial music and a
succession of fencing turns till two o'clock, when the assault
began between the two best scholars. Five hits were
required to win the prize — a fine sword — and it was
presented to the conqueror, a Mr. Webster. At half-past
six I dined at Mr. Hamilton's, where a numerous and
agreeable party was assembled. At ten Miss Neville and
her mother came with still others. We had dancing and
singing, and here I am, quite wearied at half-past three ;
but I must be up early to-morrow morning.

March 13. The little I slept had a bad effect on me, for
I rose cross of mind and temper. I took a long walk on
the London road, returned and reached Brae House, and

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 219

breakfasted with the famous Mrs. Grant,^ an old lady very-
deaf, but very agreeable withal. Her son and daughter
and another lady formed our party. We talked of nothing
but America; Mrs. Grant is positively the only person I
have met here who knows anything true about my country.
I promised to call again soon. This evening I dined at
Sir James Riddell's, and I do not know when I have
spent a more uncomfortable evening; the company were
all too high for me, though Sir James and his lady did all
they could for me. The ton here surpassed that at the
Earl of Morton's ; five gentlemen waited on us while at
table, and two of these put my cloak about my shoul-
ders, notwithstanding all I could say to the contrary.
Several of these men were quite as well dressed as
their master. What will that sweet lady, Mrs. Basil
Hall think of a squatter's hut in Mississippi in contrast
with this? No matter! whatever may be lacking, there
is usually a hearty welcome. Oh ! my America, how
dearly I love thy plain, simple manners.

March 1//-. I have been drawing all day, two Cat-birds
and some blackberries for the Countess of Morton, and
would have finished it had I not been disturbed by visitors.
Mr. Hays came with his son ; he asked me if it would not
be good policy for me to cut my hair and have a fashion-
able coat made before I reached London. I laughed, and
he laughed, and my hair is yet as God made it.

March 17. I had long wished to visit Roslyn Castle
and the weather being beautiful I applied to Mrs. Dickie
for a guide, and she sent her son with me. We passed
over the North Bridge and followed the turnpike road,
passing along the foot of the Pentland Hills, looking back
frequently to view Edinburgh under its cloud of smoke,
until we had passed a small eminence that completely hid
it afterwards from our sight. Not an object of interest lay

1 Mrs. Anne Grant, poetess and miscellaneous writer. Bom 1755, died
1838.

220 AUDUBON

in our way until we suddenly turned southeast and
entered the little village of Roslyn. I say little, because
not more than twenty houses are there, and these are all
small except one. It is high, however, so much so that
from it we looked down on the ruined castle, although the
elevation of the castle above the country around is very
great. On inquiry, we were assured that the chapel was
the only remaining edifice worthy of attention. We
walked down to it and entered an enclosure, when before
us stood the remains of the once magnificent Chapel of
Roslyn. What volumes of thoughts rushed into my mind.
I, who had read of the place years before, who knew by
tradition the horrors of the times subsequent to the found-
ing of the edifice, now confronted reality. I saw the
marks of sacrilegious outrage on objects silent themselves
and which had been raised in adoration to God. Strange
that times which produced such beautiful works of art
should allow the thief and the murderer to go almost un-
punished. This Gothic chapel is a superb relic; each
stone is beautifully carved, and each difters from all the
others. The ten pillars and five arches are covered with
the finest fret-work, and all round are seen the pedestals
that once supported the images that Knox's party were
wont to destroy without thought or reason. I went down
some mouldering steps into the Sacristy, but found only
bare walls, decaying very fast; yet here a curious plant
was growing, of a verdigris color. To reach the castle we
went down and along a narrow ridge, on each side of
which the ground went abruptly to the bottom of a narrow,
steep valley, through which a small, petulant stream
rushed with great rapidity over a rocky bed. This guards
three sides of the promontory on which Roslyn Castle
once was ; for now only a few masses of rubbish were to be
seen, and a house of modern structure occupies nearly the
original site. In its day it must have been a powerful
structure, but now, were it existing, cannon could destroy

/-:?

^^/2^^,

'a^^^^y^^ /f^y^.

^^ ^'S'.a

:^t

^. ^-cr/^Z^

FACSIMILE OF ENTKV IN JOURNAL.

THE E UR OPE A N JO URNALS 2 2 1

it in a few hours, if they were placed on the opposite
hills. A large meadow lay below us, covered with bleach-
ing linen, and the place where we stood was perfectly
lonely, not even the reviving chirp of a single bird could
be heard, and my heart sank low while my mind was en-
gaged in recollections of the place. In silence we turned
and left the Castle and the little village, and returned by
another route to busy Edinburgh. The people were just
coming out of church, and as I walked along I felt a tap
on my shoulder and heard good Mr. Neill say, " Where
are you going at the rate of six miles an hour? " and he
took me home to dine with him, after we had been to my
lodgings, where I put my feet in ice cold water for ten
minutes, when I felt as fresh as ever.

March 19, 1827. This day my hair was sacrificed, and
the will of God usurped by the wishes of man. As the
barber clipped my locks rapidly, it reminded me of the
horrible times of the French Revolution when the same
operation was performed upon all the victims murdered at
the guillotine ; my heart sank low.

John J. Audubon.i

Shortly after breakfast I received a note from Captain
Hall, and another from his brother, both filled with entrea-
ties couched in strong terms that I should aiter my hair
before I went to London. Good God ! if Thy works are
hated by man it must be with Thy permission. I sent for
a barber, and my hair was mowed off in a trice. I knew I
was acting weakly, but rather than render my good friend
miserable about it, I suffered the loss patiently.

March 20. I visited Mr. Hays at his office, and had
the pleasure of seeing all the curious ancient manuscripts,
letters, mandates. Acts of Parliament, etc., connected with
the oflEicial events of Scotland with England for upwards

1 This entry is the only one on a large page, of which a facsimile is given.
It is written in the centre, and all around the edge of the paper is a heavy
black border, an inch in depth.

222 AUDUBON

of three hundred years past. Large volumes are written
on parchment, by hand, and must have been works of
immense labor. The volumes containing the mere trans-
fers of landed estates filed within the last forty years
amounted to almost three thousand, and the parcels of
ancient papers filled many rooms in bundles and in bags of
leather, covered with dust, and mouldering with age. The
learned antiquarian, Mr. Thompson, has been at great
pains to put in order all these valuable and curious docu-
ments. The edifice of the Registry is immense, and the
long, narrow passages proved a labyrinth to me. Mr.
Hays' allotted portion of curiosities consists of Heraldry,
and I saw the greatest display of coats of arms of all sorts,
emblazoned in richest style on sleek vellum and parch-
ment.

March 21. Called on Miss D , the fair American.

To my surprise I saw the prints she had received the
evening before quite abused and tumbled. This, how-
ever, was not my concern, and I regretted it only on her
account, that so little care should be taken of a book that
in fifty years will be sold at immense prices because of its
rarity.^ The wind blew great guns all morning. Finding
it would be some days before my business would permit
me to leave, I formed an agreement to go to see the
interior of the Castle, the regalia, and other curiosities of
the place to-morrow. I received a valuable letter of
introduction to the Secretary of the Home Department,
Mr. Peel, from the Lord Advocate of Scotland, given me
at the particular request of the Countess of Morton, a most
charming lady ; the Earl of Morton would have written
himself but for the low state of his health.

March 22. After lunch the Rev. VVm. Newbold and I
proceeded to the Castle ; the wind blew furiously, and con-

1 A distinguished ornithologist said of the book in 1895 '• " I' is one of the
few illustrated books, if not the only one, that steadily increases in price as
the years go on."

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 223

sequently no smoke interfered with the objects I wished
to see. We passed a place called the " Mound," a thrown-
up mass of earth connecting now the New with the Old
city of Edinburgh. We soon reached the gates of the
Castle, and I perceived plainly that I was looked upon as
an officer from the continent. Strange ! three days ago I
was taken for a priest, quick transition caused only by the
clipping of my locks. We crossed the drawbridge and
looked attentively at the deep and immense dried ditches
below, passed through the powerful double gates, all
necessary securities to such a place. We ascended con-
tinually until we reached the parapets where the King
stood during his visit, bowing, I am told, to the gaping
multitude below, his hat off, and proud enough, no doubt,
of his high station. My hat was also off, but under differ-
ent impulses ; I was afraid that the wind would rob me of
it suddenly. I did not bow to the people, but I looked
with reverence and admiration on the beauties of nature
and of art that surrounded me, with a pleasure seldom felt
before. The ocean was rugged with agitated waves as far
as the eye could reach eastwardly; not a vessel dared
spread its sails, so furious was the gale. The high moun-
tains of wild Scotland now and then faintly came to our
view as the swift-moving clouds passed, and suffered the
sun to cast a momentary glance at them. The coast of
the Frith of Forth exhibited handsome villas, and noble-
men's seats, bringing at once before me the civilization of
man, and showing how weak and insignificant we all are.
My eyes followed the line of the horizon and stopped at a
couple of small elevations, that I knew to be the home of
the Countess of Morton; then I turned to the immense
city below, where men looked like tiny dwarfs, and horses
smaller than sheep. To the east lay the Old Town, and
now and then came to my ears the music of a band as the
squall for a moment abated. I could have remained here
a whole day, but my companion called, and I followed

224 AUDUBON

him to the room where the regaHa are kept. We each
wrote our names, paid our shilHng, and the large padlock
was opened by a red-faced, bulky personage dressed in a
fanciful scarlet cloth, hanging about him like mouldering
tapestry. A small oblong room, quite dark, lay before us ;
it was soon lighted, however, by our conductor. A high
railing of iron, also of an oblong form, surrounded a table
covered with scarlet cloth, on which lay an immense sword
and its scabbard, two sceptres, a large, square, scarlet
cushion ornamented with golden tassels, and above all
the crown of Scotland. All the due explanations were
cried out by our conductor, on whose face the reflection
of all the red articles was so powerfully displayed just now
that it looked like a large tomato, quite as glittering, but
of a very different flavor, I assure thee. We looked at all
till I was tired ; not long did this take, for it had not one
thousandth portion of the beauties I had seen from the
parapet. We left the Castle intending to proceed to the
stone quarries three miles distant, but the wind was now so
fierce, and the dust so troubled my eyes, that the jaunt was
put off till another day. I paid young Kidd three guineas
for his picture. Have just had some bread and butter and
will go to bed.

March 23. Young Kidd breakfasted with me, and no
sooner had he gone than I set to and packed up. I felt very
low-spirited ; the same wind keeps blowing, and I am now
anxious to be off to Mr. Selby's Newcastle, and my dear
Green Bank. My head was so full of all manner of
thoughts that I thought it was Saturday, instead of Friday,
and at five o'clock I dressed in a great hurry and went to
Mr. Henry Witham's with all possible activit}'. My Lucy,
I was not expected till to-morrow ! Mr. Witham was not
at home, and his lady tried to induce me to remain and
dine with her and her lovely daughter ; but I declined, and
marched home as much ashamed of my blunder as a fox
who has lost his tail in a trap. Once before I made a

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 225

sad blunder; I promised to dine at three different houses
the same day, and when it came I discovered my error,
and wrote an apology to all, and went to none.

Twizel House, Belford — NortJiiimberland, April 10,
1827. Probably since ten years I have not been so long
without recording my deeds or my thoughts ; and even
now I feel by no means inclined to write, and for no par-
ticular reason. From Friday the 23d of ]\Iarch till the 5th
of April my time was busily employed, copying some of my
drawings, from five in the morning till seven at night. I
dined out rarely, as I found the time used by this encroached
too much on that needed by my ardent desire to improve
myself in oil and in perspective, which I wished to study
with close attention. Every day brought me packets of
letters of introduction, and I called here and there to make
my adieux. I went often in the evening to Mr. Lizars' ;
I felt the parting with him and his wife and sister would
be hard, and together we attended meetings of the differ-
ent societies. The last night I went to the Royal Society.
Sir Wm. Hamilton ^ read a paper against phrenology,
which would seem to quite destroy the theory of Mr.
Combe. I left many things in the care of my landlady,
as well as several pictures, and at six o'clock on the morn-
ing of April 5, left Edinburgh, where I hope to go again.
The weather was delightful. We passed Dunbar and Ber-
wick, our road near the sea most of the time, and at half-
past four, the coach stopped opposite the lodge of Twizel
House. I left my baggage in the care of the woman at
the lodge, and proceeded through some small woods
towards the house, which I saw after a few minutes, — a
fine house, commanding an extensive view of the country,
the German Ocean, and Bamborough Castle. I ascended
the great staircase with pleasure, for I knew that here
was congeniality of feeling. Hearing the family were

1 One of the greatest metaphysicians of modern times. Born at Glasgow
1788, died in Edinburgh, 1856.

VOL. I. — 15

226 AUDUBON

out and would not return for two hours, I asked to be
shown to the library, and told my name. The man said
not a word, went off, and about ten minutes after, whilst
I was reading the preface of William Roscoe to his " Leo
X.," returned and said his master would be with me in a
moment. I understood all this. Mr. Selby came in, in
hunting-dress, and we shook hands as hunters do. He
took me at once out in his grounds, where Mrs. Selby,
his three daughters, and Captain Mitford his brother-in-
law were all engaged transplanting trees, and I felt at
home at once. When we returned to the house Mr. Selby
conducted me to his laboratory, where guns, birds, etc.,
were everywhere. I offered to make a drawing and Cap-
tain Mitford went off to shoot a Chafifiinch. We had supper,
after which the eagerness of the young ladies made me
open my box of drawings; later we had music, and the
evening passed delightfully. I thought much of home
I assure thee, and of Green Bank also, and then of my
first sight of thee at Fatland, and went to bed thanking
God for the happy moments he has granted us. The
next morning I felt afraid my early habits would create
some disturbance in the repose of the family, and was
trying to make good my outing at five, and thought I
had already done so, when to my surprise and consterna-
tion the opening of the hall door made such a noise as I
doubted not must have been heard over the whole estab-
lishment; notwithstanding, I issued into the country fresh
air, and heard all around me the Black-birds, Thrushes,
and Larks at their morning songs. I walked, or rather
ran about, like a bird just escaped from a cage ; plucked
flowers, sought for nests, watched the fishes, and came
back to draw. All went well ; although the shooting season
(as the English please to call it) was long since over, we
took frequent walks with guns, and a few individuals were
the sufferers from my anxiety to see their bills, and eyes,
and feathers ; and many a mile did I race over the moors

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 22/

to get them. More or less company came daily to see
my drawings, and I finished a drawing for Mr. Selby of
three birds, a Lapwing for Mrs. Selby, who drew fully
as well as I did, and who is now imitating my style, and
to whom I have given some lessons. Also I finished a
small picture in oil for the charming elder daughter
Louise; the others are Jane and Fanny. So much at home
did we become that the children came about me as freely
as if I had long known them ; I was delighted at this, for
to me to have familiar intercourse with children, the most
interesting of beings, is one of my greatest enjoyments,
and my time here was as happy as at Green Bank ; I can
say no more. The estate is well situated, highly orna-
mented, stocked with an immensity of game of the country,
and trout abound in the little rivulets that tumble from~
rock to rock towards the northern ocean. To-morrow I
leave this with Captain Mitford for his country seat.

Mitford Castle, near Morpeth^ Northumberland, April 11,
1827. I rose as early as usual, and not to disturb my
kind friends, I marched down the staircase in my stock-
ings, as I often do where the family are not quite such
early risers ; instead of opening the hall door I sat down
in the study, and outlined a Lapwing, in an extremely
difficult position, for my friend Selby, and did not go
on my walk until the servants made their appearance,
and then I pushed off to the garden and the woods to
collect violets. I felt quite happy, the fragrance of the
air seemed equal to that of the little blue flowers which
I gathered. We breakfasted, and at ten o'clock I bid
farewell to Mrs. Selby; good, amiable lady, how often
she repeated her invitation to me to come and spend
a goodly time with them. Mr. Selby and the children
walked down to the lodge with the captain and me, and
having reached the place too early we walked about the
woods awhile. The parting moment came at last, all too
soon, our baggage was put on the top of the " Dart," an

228 AUDUBON

opposition coach, and away we rolled. My good com-
panion Captain Mitford kept my spirits in better plight
than they would otherwise have been, by his animated
conversation about game, fishing, America, etc., and after
a ride of about twelve miles we entered the small village
of Alnwick, commanded by the fine castle of the Duke
of Northumberland. Having to change horses and wait
two hours, we took a walk, and visited the interior of that
ancient mass of buildings, the whole being deserted at
present, the Duke absent. I saw the armory, the dun-
geons, the place for racking prisoners, but the grotesque
figures of stone standing in all sorts of attitudes, defensive
and offensive, all round the top of the turrets and bastions,
struck me most. They looked as if about to move, or to
take great leaps to the ground, to cut our throats. This
castle covers five acres of ground, is elevated, and therefore
in every direction are good views of the country. From
it I saw the cross put up in memory of King Malcolm
killed by Hammond. At two precisely (for in England
and Scotland coaches start with great punctuality) we
were again en route. We passed over the Aln River, a
very pretty little streamlet, and reached Felton, where
we changed horses. The whole extent of country we
passed this day was destitute of woods, and looked to me
very barren. We saw little game ; about five we arrived
within two miles of Morpeth, where the captain and I
alighted; we walked to a pretty little vale and the ruins
of the old castle lay before us, still doomed to moulder
more, and walking on reached the confluence of two
small, pretty streams from which originated the name
of my friend's ancestors, Meetingford. We reached the
house, and having heard of his brother's indisposition,
the captain and I entered quietly, and I was presented to
the owner of the hall. I saw before me a thin, pale, emaci-
ated being who begged I would go to him, as he could
not rise. I shook his withered hand and received his

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 229

kind welcome. During the evening I had ample oppor-
tunity to observe how clever and scientific he was, and
regretted the more his frail body. He was extremely
anxious to see my drawings, and he examined them more
closely than I can ever remember any one to have done
before, and was so well acquainted with good drawing
that I felt afraid to turn them over for his inspection.
After looking at probably a hundred without saying a
single word, he exclaimed suddenly: "They are truly
beautiful ; our King ought to purchase them, they are too
good to belong to a sbigle individual." We talked much
on subjects of natural history, and he told me that he
made it a rule that not a gun was ever fired during the
breeding season on any part of his beautiful estate;
he delighted to see the charming creatures enjoy life
and pleasure without any annoyance. Rooks, Jackdaws,
Wood-Pigeons, and Starlings were flying in hundreds
about the ruined castle. We sat up till after twelve, when
hot water and spirits were produced, after which we said
good-night; but I needed nothing to make me sleep, for
in five minutes after I lay down I was — I know not where.
April 12. I am now at last where the famous Bewick
produced his handsome and valuable work on the birds of
England. It is a dirty-looking place, this Newcastle, and
I do not know if it will prove at all pleasant. This morn-
ing early the captain and myself took a good ramble about
Mitford Hall grounds; saw the rookery, the ruins of the
castle, and walked some way along the little river front.
We breakfasted about ten with his brother, who wished to
see my drawings by daylight. Afterwards my baggage
was taken to Morpeth, and the captain and I walked
thither about twelve. Our way was along a pretty little
stream called the Wansbeck, but the weather changed and
the rain assured me that none of the persons we expected
to see in the village would come, on this account, and I was
not mistaken. At half-past four I mounted the coach for

2^0 AUDUBON

this place, and not an object of interest presented itself in
the journey of thirteen miles.

Newcastle-upon-Tyne, April 13. At ten o'clock I left
the inn, having had a very indifferent breakfast, served on
dirty plates ; therefore I would not recommend the " Rose
and Crown," or the hostess, to any friend of mine. Yet
my bed was quite comfortable, and my sleep agreeably
disturbed about one hour before day by some delightful
music on the bugle. I often, even before this, have had a
wish to be a performer on this instrument, so sure I am
that our grand forests and rivers would re-echo its sonorous
sounds with fine effect. I passed through many streets,
but what a shabby appearance this Newcastle-upon-Tyne
has, after a residence of nearly six months in the beautiful
city of Edinburgh. All seems dark and smoky, indeed I
conceive myself once more in Manchester. The cries of
fish, milk, and vegetables, were all different, and I looked
in vain for the rosy cheeks of the Highlanders. I had
letters to the members of the Johnson family, given me by
Captain Mitford, and therefore went to St. James Square,
where I delivered them, and was at once received by a tall,
fine-looking young gentleman, who asked me if I had
breakfasted. On being answered in the affirmative, he
requested me to excuse him till he had finished his, and
I sat opposite the fire thinking about the curious pil-
grimage I had now before me. Will the result repay the
exertions? Alas! it is quite impossible for me to say, but
that I shall carry the plan out in all its parts is certain
unless life departs, and then I must hope that our Victor
will fall into my place and accomplish my desires, with
John's help to draw the birds, which he already does well.
Mr. Edward Johnson soon re-entered, bringing with him
Mr. John Adamson, secretary to the Literary and Philoso-
phical Society of this place. I presented the letter for him
from Mr. Selby, but I saw at once that he knew me by
name. Soon after he very kindly aided me to find suit-

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 231

able lodgings, which I did in Collingwood Street. We
then walked to Mr. Bewick's, the engraver, son of the
famous man, and happily met him. He is a curious-look-
ing man ; his head and shoulders are both broad, but his
keen, penetrating eyes proved that Nature had stamped
him for some use in this world. I gave him the letters I
had for him, and appointed a time to call on his father. I
again suffered myself to be imposed upon when I paid my
bill at the inn on removing to my lodgings, and thought of
Gil Bias of Santillane. Five persons called to see my
drawings this afternoon, and I received a note from Mr.
Bewick inviting me to tea at six; so I shall see and talk
with the wonderful man. I call him wonderful because I
am sincerely of the opinion that his work on wood is
superior to anything ever attempted in ornithology. It is
now near eleven at night. Robert Bewick (the son) called
for me about six, and we proceeded to his father's house.
On our way I saw an ancient church with a remarkably
beautiful Lanterne at top, St. Nicholas' Church I was told,
then we passed over the Tyne, on a fine strong bridge of
stone, with several arches, I think six or seven. This is
distant from the sea, and I must say that the Tyne Jicre is
the only stream I have yet seen since my landing resem-
bling at all a river. It is about as large as Bayou Sara
opposite the Beech Woods, when full. I saw some of the
boats used in carrying coals down the stream ; they are
almost of oval shape, and are managed with long, sweeping
oars, and steerers much like our flat-boats on the Ohio.
My companion did not talk much; he is more an acting
man than a talker, and I did not dislike him for that.
After ascending a long road or lane, we arrived at Bewick's
dwelling, and I was taken at once to where he was at work,
and saw the man himself He came to me and welcomed
me with a hearty shake of the hand, and took off for a
moment his half-clean cotton night-cap tinged with the
smoke of the place. He is tall, stout, has a very large

232 AUDUBON

head, and his eyes are further apart than those of any man
I remember just now. A complete EngHshman, full of
life and energy though now seventy-four, very witty and
clever, better acquainted with America than most of his
countrymen, and an honor to England. Having shown
me the work he was at, a small vignette cut on a block of
box-wood not more than three by two inches, representing
a dog frightened during the night by false appearances of
men formed by curious roots and branches of trees, rocks,
etc., he took me upstairs and introduced me to his three
daughters — all tall, and two of them with extremely fine
figures ; they were desirous to make my visit an agreeable
one and most certainly succeeded. I met there a Mr.
Goud, and saw from his pencil a perfect portrait of Thomas
Bewick, a miniature, full-length, in oil, highly finished, well
drawn and composed. The old gentleman and I stuck to
each other; he talked of my drawings, and I of his wood-
cuts, till we liked each other very much. Now and then
he would take off his cotton cap, but the moment he be-
came animated with the conversation the cap was on, yet
almost off, for he had stuck it on as if by magic. His eyes
sparkled, his face was very expressive, and I enjoyed him
much more, I am sure, than he supposed. He had heard
of my drawings and promised to call early to-morrow
morning with his daughters and some friends. I did not
forget dear John's wish to possess a copy of his work on
quadrupeds, and having asked where I could procure one,
he answered " Here." After coffee and tea had been
served, young Bewick, to please me, brought a bagpipe
of a new construction, called a " Durham," and played
simple, nice Scotch and English airs with peculiar taste;
the instrument sounded like a hautboy. Soon after ten
the company broke up, and we walked into Newcastle.
The streets were desolate, and their crookedness and
narrowness made me feel the more the beauty of fair
Edinburgh.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 233

April llf.. The weather is now becoming tolerable and
spring is approaching. The Swallows glide past my win-
dows, and the Larks are heard across the Tyne. Thomas
Bewick, his whole family, and about a hundred others have
kept me busy exhibiting drawings. Mr. Bewick expressed
himself as perfectly astounded at the boldness of my under-
taking. I am to dine with him to-morrow, Mr. Adamson
to-day, and Mr. Johnson on Wednesday if I do not go on
to York that day.

April 15. Mr. Adamson called for me at church time,
and we proceeded a short distance and entered St.
Nicholas' church. He ordered an officer to take me
to what he called the mansion house and I was led along
the aisles to a place enclosed by an iron railing and
showed a seat. In looking about me I saw a large
organ over the door I had entered, and in front of this
were seated many children, the lasses in white, the lads
in blue. An immense painting of the Lord's Supper
filled the end opposite the entrance, and the large Gothic
windows were brilliant with highly colored glass. A few
minutes passed, when a long train of office bearers and the
magistrates of the town, headed by the mayor, came in pro-
cession and entered the mansion hojise also ; a gentleman
at my elbow rose and bowed to these and I followed his
example ; I discovered then that I was seated in the most
honorable place. The service and sermon were long and
tedious ; often to myself I said, " Why is not Sydney Smith
here? " Being in church I sat patiently, but I must say I
thought the priest uncommonly stupid. Home to lunch-
eon and afterwards went to Heath, the painter,^ who with
his wife received me with extreme kindness. He showed
me many sketches, a number of which were humorous-
He likes Newcastle better than Edinburgh, and I would
not give an hour at Edinburgh, especiall}^ were I with
friend Lizars, his wife, and sister, for a year here. So

1 Possibly Charles Heath, engraver, 1784-1S48.

234 AUDUBON

much for difference of taste. — I have just returned from
old Bewick's. We had a great deal of conversation, all
tending towards Natural History; other guests came in as
the evening fell, and politics and religion were touched
upon. Whilst this was going on old Bewick sat silent
chewing his tobacco; the son, too, remained quiet, but
the eldest daughter, who sat next to me, was very interest-
ing, and to my surprise resembles my kind friend Hannah
Rathbone so much, that I frequently felt as if Miss Hannah,
with her black eyes and slender figure, were beside me. I
was invited to breakfast to-morrow at eight with Mr.
Bewick to see the old gentleman at work.

April 16. I breakfasted with old Bewick this morning
quite saus ceremonic, and then the old man set to work to
show me how simple it was to cut wood! But cutting wood
as he did is no joke ; he did it with as much case as I can
feather a bird ; he made all his tools, which are delicate
and very beautiful, and his artist shop was clean and at-
tractive. Later I went with Mr. Plummer, the officiating
American consul at this place, to the court-rooms, and
Merchant Coffee House, also to a new fish market, small
and of a half-moon form, contiguous to the river, that I
have forgotten to say is as dirty and muddy as an alligator
hole. The coal boats were moving down by hundreds,
with only one oar and a stcercr, to each of which I saw
three men. We then went to the Literary and Philosoph-
ical Society rooms ; the library is a fine, large room with
many books — the museum small, but in neat order, and
well supplied with British specimens. Since then I have
been showing my drawings to at least two hundred persons
who called at my lodgings. I was especially struck with
a young lady who came with her brother. I saw from my
window a groom walking three fine horses to and fro, and
almost immediately the lady and gentleman entered, whip
in hand, and spurred like fighting-cocks; the lady, with a
beaver and black silk neckerchief, came in first and alone,

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 235

holding up with both hands her vohiminous blue riding-
habit, and with a ton very unbecoming her fine eyes and
sweet face. She bowed carelessly, and said : " Compli-
ments, sir; " and perceiving how much value she put on
herself, I gave her the best seat in the room. For some
time she sat without a word ; when her brother began to
put questions, however, she did also, and so fast and so
searchingly that I thought them Envoies Extraordinaires
from either Temminck or Cuvier. Mr. Adamson, who sat
by all the time, praised me, when they had gone, for my
patience, and took me home to dine with him en faviille.
A person (a glazier, I suppose), after seeing about a
hundred pictures, asked me if I did not want glass and
frames for them. How I wish I was in America's dark
woods, admiring God's works in all their beautiful ways.

April 17. Whilst I was lying awake this morning wait-
ing for it to get light, I presently recollected I was in
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and recalled the name of Smollett,
no mean man, by the bye, and remembered his eulogium
of the extraordinary fine view he obtained when travelling
on foot from London to this place, looking up the Tyne
from Isbet Hill, and I said, " If Smollett admired the
prospect, I can too," and leaped from my bed as a hare
from his form on newly ploughed ground at the sound
of the sportsman's bugle, or the sight of the swift grey-
hound. I ran downstairs, out-of-doors, and over the
Tyne, as if indeed a pack of jackals had been after me.
Two miles is nothing to me, and I ascended the hill
where poor Isbet, deluded by a wretched woman, for her
sake robbed the mail, and afterwards sufi'ered death on
a gibbet ; and saw — the sea ! Far and wide it extended ;
the Tyne led to it, with its many boats with their coaly
burdens. Up the river the view was indeed enchanting;
the undulating meadows sloped gently to the water's edge
on either side, and the Larks that sprang up before me,
welcoming the sun's rise, animated my thoughts so much

236 AUDUBON

that I felt tears trickling down my cheeks as I gave praise
to the God who gave life to all these in a day. There was
a dew on the ground, the bees were gathering honey from
the tiniest flowerets, and here and there the Blackbird so
shy sought for a fibrous root to entwine his solid nest of
clay. Lapwings, like butterflies of a larger size, passed
wheeling and tumbling over me through the air, and had
not the dense smoke from a thousand engines disturbed
the peaceful harmony of Nature, I might have been there
still, longing for my Lucy to partake of the pleasure with
me. But the smoke recalled me to my work, and I turned
towards Newcastle. So are all transient pleasures fol-
lowed by sorrows, except those emanating from the
adoration of the Supreme Being. It was still far from
breakfast time ; I recrossed the Tync and ascended the
east bank for a couple of miles before returning to my
lodgings. The morning afterward was spent as usual.
I mean, holding up drawings to the company that came
in good numbers. Morning here is the time from ten to
five, and I am told that in London it sometimes lengthens
to eight of the evening as we term it. Among these vis-
itors was a Mr. Donkin, who remained alone with me when
the others had left, and we had some conversation ; he is
an advocate, or, as I would call it, a chancellor. He
asked me to take a bachelor's dinner with him at five ; I
accepted, and he then proposed we should drive out and
see a house he was building two miles in the country. I
again found myself among the rolling hills, and we soon
reached his place. I found a beautiful, low house of
stone, erected in the simplest st}'lc imaginable, but so
well arranged and so convenient that I felt satisfied he
was a man of taste as well as wealth. Garden, grounds,
all was in perfect harmony, and the distant views up and
down the river, the fine woods and castle, all came in
place, — not to satiate the eye, but to induce it to search
for further beauties. On returning to town Mr. Donkin

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 237

showed me the old mansion where poor Charles the First
was deliv^ered up to be beheaded. He could have escaped
through a conduit to the river, where a boat was waiting,
but the conduit was all darkness and his heart failed him.
Now I should say that he had no heart, and was very unfit
for a king. At Mr. Donkin's house I was presented to
his partners, and we had a good dinner; the conversation
ran much on politics, and they supported the King and Mr,
Canning. I left early, as I had promised to take a cup of
tea with old Bewick. The old gentleman was seated as
usual with his night-cap on, and his tobacco pouch in one
hand ready to open ; his countenance beamed with pleas-
ure as I shook hands with him. " I could not bear the
idea of your going off without telling you in written
words what I think of your ' Birds of America; ' here it is
in black and white, and make whatever use you may of
it, if it be of use at all," he said, and put an unsealed
letter in my hand. We chatted away on natural-history
subjects, and he would now and then exclaim : " Oh that
I was young ^ again! I would go to America. What a
country it will be." " It is now, Mr. Bewick," I would
retort, and then we went on. The young ladies enjoyed
the sight and remarked that for years their father had
not had such a flow of spirits.

Apj'il 19. This morning I paid a visit of farewell to Mr.
Bewick and his family ; as we parted he held my hand
closely and repeated three times, " God preserve you."
I looked at him in such a manner that I am sure he under-
stood I could not speak. I walked slowly down the hilly
lane, and thought of the intrinsic value of this man to the
world, and compared him with Sir Walter Scott. The
latter will be forever the most eminent in station, being
undoubtedly the most learned and most brilliant of the
two ; but Thomas Bewick is a son of Nature. Nature

1 Thomas Bewick was at this time nearly seventy-four. He died Nov. 8,
1828, being then past seventy-five.

238 AUDUBON

alone has reared him under her peaceful care, and he in
gratitude of heart has copied one department of her works
that must stand unrivalled forever ; I say " forever " because
imitators have only a share of real merit, compared with in-
ventors, and Thomas Bewick is an inventor, and the first
wood-ciittcr in the world ! These words, " first wood-cutter "
would, I dare say, raise the ire of many of our hearty squat-
ters, who, no doubt, on hearing me express myself so
strongly, would take the axe, and fell down an enormous tree
whilst talking about it; but the moment I would explain to
them that each of their chips would produce under his chisel
a mass of beauties, the good fellows would respect him quite
as much as I do. My room was filled all day with people
to see my works and inc, whom some one had said resem-
bled in physiognomy Napoleon of France. Strange simile
this, but I care not whom T resemble, if it be only in looks,
if my heart preserves the love of the truth.

Saturday, April 21. I am tired out holding up draw-
ings, I may say, all day; but have been rewarded by an
addition of five subscribers to my work. Am off to-morrow
to York. God bless thee, my Lucy.

York, Siuiday, April 23, 1S27. Left Newcastle at eight ;
the weather cold and disagreeable, still I preferred a seat
on top to view the country. Passed through Durham, a
pretty little town with a handsome castle and cathedral,
planted on an elevated peninsula formed by a turn of the
river Wear, and may be seen for many miles. It is a roll-
ing country, and the river wound about among the hills;
we crossed it three times on stone bridges. Darlington,
where we changed horses, is a neat, small place, supported
by a set of very industrious Quakers ; much table linen
is manufactured here. As we approached York the woods
became richer and handsomer, and trees were dispersed
all over the country ; it looked once more like England,
and the hedges reminded me of those about " Green Bank."
They were larger and less trimmed than in Scotland. I

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 239

saw York Minster six or seven miles before reaching the
town, that is entered by old gates. The streets are disgust-
ingly crooked and narrow, and crossed like the burrows of
a rabbit-warren. I was put down at the Black Swan.
Though the coach was full, not a word had been spoken
except an occasional oath at the weather, which was indeed
very cold ; and I, with all the other passengers, went at
once to the fires. Anxious to find lodgings not at the
Black Swan, I went to Rev. VVm. Turner, son of a gen-
tleman I had met at Newcastle, for information. His
father had prepared him for my visit at my request, and I
was soon installed at Mrs. PuUeyn's in Blake Street. My
present landlady's weight, in ratio with that of her husband,
is as one pound avoirdupois to one ounce apothecary!
She looks like a round of beef, he like a farthing candle.
Oh that I were in Louisiana, strolling about the woods, look-
ing in the gigantic poplars for new birds and new flowers !

April 23, ATonday. The weather looked more like ap-
proaching winter than spring; indeed snow fell at short
intervals, and it rained, and was extremely cold and misty.
Nothwithstanding the disagreeable temperature, I have
walked a good deal. I delivered my letters as early as
propriety would allow, but found no one in ; at least I was
told so, for beyond that I cannot say with any degree of
accuracy I fear. The Rev. Mr. Turner called with the
curator of the Museum, to whom I showed some drawings.
After my dinner, eaten sohis, I went out again ; the Minster
is undoubtedly the finest piece of ancient architecture I
have seen since I was in France, if my recollection serves
me. I walked round and round it for a long time, examin-
ing its height, form, composition, and details, until my neck
ached. The details are wonderful indeed, — all cut of the
same stone that forms the mass outwardly. Leaving it
and going without caring about my course, I found myself
in front of an ancient castle,^ standing on a mound,
1 Probably St. Mary's Abbey.

240 AUDUBON

covered with dark ivy, fissured by time and menacing its
neighborhood with an appearance of all tumbling down at
no remote period. I turned east and came to a pretty
little stream called the Ouse, over which I threw several
pebbles by way of exercise. On the west bank I found a
fine walk, planted with the only trees of size I have seen in
this country; it extended about half a mile. Looking up
the stream a bridge of fine stone is seen, and on the
opposite shores many steam mills were in operation. I
followed down this mighty stream till the road gave out,
and, the grass being very wet and the rain falling heavily,
1 returned to my rooms. York is much cleaner than
Newcastle, and I remarked more Quakers ; but alas ! how
far both these towns are below fair Edinburgh. The
houses here are low, covered with tiles, and sombre-look-
ing. No birds have I seen except Jackdaws and Rooks.
To my surprise my host waited upon me at supper ; when
he enters my room I think of Scroggins' ghost. I have
spent my evening reading " Blackwood's Magazine."

April 24. How doleful has this day been to me! It
pleased to rain, and to snow, and to blow cold all day.
I called on Mr. Phillips, the curator of the Museum, and
he assured me that the society was too poor to purchase
my work. I spent the evening by invitation at the Rev.
Wm. Turner's in company with four other gentlemen.
Politics and emancipation were the chief topics of conver-
sation. How much more good would the English do by
revising their own intricate laws, and improving the con-
dition of their poor, than by troubling themselves and their
distant friends with what does not concern them. I feel
nearly determined to push off to-morrow, and yet it would
not do ; I may be wrong, and to-morrow may be fairer to
me in every way ; but this " hope deferred " is a very
fatiguing science to study. I could never make up my
mind to live and die in England whilst the sweet-scented
jessamine and the magnolias flourish so purely in my

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 241

native land, and the air vibrates with the songs of the
sweet birds.

April 25. I went out of the house pretty soon this morn-
ing; it was cold and blowing a strong breeze. I pushed
towards the river with an idea of following it downwards
two hours by my watch, but as I walked along I saw a
large flock of Starlings, at a time when I thought all birds
were paired, and watched their motions for some time, and
thereby drew the following conclusion, namely: that the
bird commonly called the Meadow Lark with us is more
nearly related to the Starling of this country than to any
other bird. I was particularly surprised that a low note, re-
sembling the noise made by a wheel not well greased, was
precisely the same in both, that the style of their walk and
gait was also precisely alike, and that in short flights the
movement of the wings had the same tremulous action
before they alighted. Later I had visitors to see my pict-
ures, possibly fifty or more. It has rained and snowed
to-day, and I feel as dull as a Martin surprised by the
weather. It will be strange if York gives me no sub-
scribers, when I had eight at Newcastle. Mr. P called

and told me it would be well for me to call personally on
the nobility and gentry in the neighborhood and take
some drawings with me. I thanked him, but told him
that my standing in society did not admit of such conduct,
and that although there were lords in England, we of
American blood think ourselves their equals. He laughed,
and said I was not as much of a Frenchman as I looked.

April 26. I have just returned from a long walk out of
town, on the road toward Newcastle. The evening was
calm, and the sunset clear. At such an hour how often have
I walked with my Lucy along the banks of the Schuylkill,
Perkiomen Creek, the Ohio River, or through the fra-
grant woods of Louisiana; how often have we stopped
short to admire the works of the Creator; how often have
we been delighted at hearing the musical notes of the timid

VOL. I. — 16

242 AUDUBON

Wood Thrush, that appeared to give her farewell melody
to the disappearing day ! We have looked at the glitter-
ing fire-fly, heard the Whip-poor-will, and seen the vigilant
Owl preparing to search field and forest ! Here the scene
was not quite so pleasing, though its charms brought youth
and happiness to my recollection. One or two W^arblers
perched on the eglantine, almost blooming, and gave
their little powers full vent. The shrill notes of Thrushes
(not ours) came from afar, and many Rooks with loaded
bills were making fast their way towards the nests that
contained their nearly half-grown offspring. The cattle
were treading heavily towards their pens, and the sheep
gathered to the lee of each protecting hedge. To-day
have I had a great number of visitors, and three subscribers.

April 27. A long walk early, and then many visitors,
Mr. Vernon ^ among them, who subscribed for my work.
All sorts of people come. If Matthews the comic were now
and then to present himself at my levees, how he would act
the scenes over. I am quite worn out; I think sometimes
my poor arms will give up their functions before I secure
five hundred subscribers.

SatJirday, 2Sth. During my early walk along the Ouse
I saw a large butterfly, quite new to me, and attempted to
procure it with a stroke of my cane; but as I whirled it
round, off went the scabbard into the river, more than half
across, and I stood with a naked small sword as if waiting
for a duel. I would have swam out for it, but that there
were other pedestrians ; so a man in a boat brought it to
me for sixpence. I have had a great deal of company, and
five subscribers. Mr. Wright took me all over the Min-
ster, and also on the roof. We had a good spy-glass, and
I had an astonishing view of the spacious vales that sur-
round the tile-covered city of York. I could easily follow
the old walls of defence. It made me giddy to look di-
rectly down, as a great height is always unpleasant to me.

* Mr. Vemon was the president of the Philosophical Society of York.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 243

Now I have packed up, paid an enormous bill to my land-
lady. I expect to be at Leeds to-morrow.

Leeds, Sunday, April 28. The town of Leeds is much
superior to anything I have seen since Edinburgh, and I
have been walking till I feel quite exhausted. I break-
fasted in York at five this morning; the coach did not
start till six, so I took my refreshing walk along the Ouse,
The weather was extremely pleasant ; I rode outside, but
the scenery was little varied, almost uniformly level, well
cultivated, but poor as to soil. I saw some " game " as
every bird is called here. I was amused to see the great
interest which was excited by a covey of Partridges. What
would be said to a gang of Wild Turkeys, — several hundred
trotting along a sand-bar of the Upper Mississippi? I
reached Leeds at half-past nine, distant from York, I be-
lieve, twenty-six miles. I found lodgings at once at 39
Albion Street, and then started with my letters.

April 30. Were I to conclude from first appearances as
to the amount of success I may expect here, compared with
York, by the difference of attention paid me at both places
so soon after my arrival, I should certainly expect much
more here ; for no sooner was breakfast over than Mr.
Atkinson called, to be followed by Mr. George and many
others, among them a good ornithologist,^ — not a closet
naturalist, but a real true-blue, who goes out at night and
watches Owls and Night-jars and Water-fowl to some pur-
pose, and who knows more about these things than any
other man I have met in Europe. This evening I took a
long walk by a small stream, and as soon as out of sight
undressed and took a dive smack across the creek ; the water
was so extremely cold that I performed the same feat back
again and dressed in a hurry ; my flesh was already quite
purple. Following the stream I found some gentlemen
catching minnows with as much anxiety as if large trout,
playing the little things with beautiful lines and wheels.
1 Mr. John Backhouse.

244 AUDUBON

Parallel to this stream is a canal ; the adjacent country
is rolling, with a number of fine country-seats. I wish I
had some one to go to in the evenings like friend Lizars.

May 1, 1827. This is the day on which last year I left
my Lucy and my boys with intention to sail for Europe.
How uncertain my hopes at that time were as to the final
results of my voyage, — about to leave a country where
most of my life had been spent devoted to the study of
Nature, to enter one wholly unknown to me, without a
friend, nay, not an acquaintance in it. Until I reached
Edinburgh I despaired of success; the publication of a
work of enormous expense, and the length of time it must
necessarily take ; to accomplish the whole has been suffi-
cient to keep my spirits low, I assure thee. Now I feel like
beginning a New Year. My work is about to be known, I
have made a number of valuable and kind friends, I have
been received by men of science on friendly terms, and
now I have a hope of success if I continue to be honest,
industrious, and consistent. My pecuniary means are
slender, but I hope to keep afloat, for my tastes are simple;
if only I can succeed in rendering thee and our sons happy,
not a moment of sorrow or discomfort shall I regret

May 2. Mr. George called very early, and said that
his colleague, the Secretary of the Literary and Philosophi-
cal Society, would call and subscribe, and he has done so.
I think I must tell thee how every one stares when they
read on the first engraving that I present for their inspec-
tion this name : " The Bonaparte Fly-catcher," — the very
bird I was anxious to name the " Rathbone Fly-catcher,"
in honor of my excellent friend " Lady " Rathbone, but
who refused to accept this little mark of my gratitude. I
afterwards meant to call it after thee, but did not, because
the world is so strangely composed just now that I feared
it would be thought childish; so I concluded to call it
after my friend Charles Bonaparte. Every one is struck
by the name, so explanations take place, and the good

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 245

people of England will know him as a great naturalist, and
my friend. I intend to name, one after another, every one
of my new birds, either for some naturalist deserving this
honor, or through a wish to return my thanks for kindness
rendered me. Many persons have called, quite a large

party at one time, led by Lady B . I am sorry to say

I find it generally more difficult to please this class of per-
sons than others, and I feel in consequence more reserved
in their presence, I can scarcely say why. I walked out
this evening to see Kirkstall Abbey, or better say the
ruins of that ancient edifice. It is about three miles out
of Leeds and is worthy the attention of every traveller. It
is situated on the banks of the little river Ayre, the same
I bathed in, and is extremely romantic in its appearance,
covered with ivy, and having sizable trees about and
amongst its walls. The entrance is defended by a board
on which is painted : " Whoever enters these ruins, or
damages them in the least, will be prosecuted with all the
rigor of the law." I did not transgress, and soon became
very cautious of my steps, for immediately after, a second
board assured every one that spring-guns and steel-traps are
about the gardens. However, no entreaty having been ex-
pressed to prevent me from sketching the whole, I did so
on the back of one of my cards for thee. From that spot
I heard a Cuckoo cry, for I do not, like the English, call it
singing. I attempted to approach the bird, but in vain; I
believe I might be more successful in holding a large
Alligator by the tail. Many people speak in raptures of the
sweet voice of the Cuckoo, and the same people tell me in
cold blood that we have no birds that can sing in America.
I wish they had a chance to judge of the powers of the
Mock-bird, the Red Thrush, the Cat-bird, the Oriole, the
Indigo Bunting, and even the Whip-poor-will. What
would they say of a half-million of Robins about to take
their departure for the North, making our woods fairly
tremble with melodious harmony? But these pleasures are

246 AUDUBON

not to be enjoyed in manufacturing towns like Leeds and
Manchester ; neither can any one praise a bird who sings
by tuition, hke a pupil of Mozart, as a few Linnets and
Starlings do, and that no doubt are here taken as the
foundation stone of the singing powers allotted to European
birds generally. Well, is not this a long digression for thee?
I dare say thou art fatigued enough at it, and so am L

May a. Until two o'clock this day I had only one
visitor, Mr. John Marshall, a member of Parliament to whom
I had a letter ; he told mc he knew nothing at all about
birds, but most generously subscribed, because, he told me,
it was such a work as every one ought to possess, and to
encourage enterprise. This evening I dined with the
Messrs. Davy, my old friends of Mill Grove ; the father, who
for many months has not left his bed-chamber, desired to
see me. We had not met since 18 10, but he looked as fresh
as when I last saw him, and is undoubtedly the handsomest
and noblest-looking man I have ever seen in my life, ex-
cepting the Marquis de Dupont de Nemours. I have at
Leeds only five subscribers, — poor indeed compared with
the little town of York.

ATay 5. I breakfasted with young Mr. Davy, who after
conducted mc to Mr. Marshall's mills. We crossed the
Ayre in a ferry boat for a half-penny each, and on the
west bank stood the great works. The first thing to see
was the great engine, 150 horse-power, a stupendous struc-
ture, and so beautiful in all its parts that no one could, I
conceive, stand and look at it without praising the ingenu-
ity of man. Twenty-five hundred persons of all ages and
both sexes are here, yet nothing is heard but the burr of
machinery. All is wonderfully arranged ; a good head
indeed must be at the commander's post in such a vast
establishment.

Manchester, May 6, 1827. My journey was uneventful
and through the rain. I reached Mr. Bentley's soon after
noon, and we were both glad to meet.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 247

May 7. The rooms of the Natural History Society
were offered to me, to show my work, but hearing acciden-
tally that the Royal Institution of Manchester vv^as hold-
ing an exhibition at the Messrs. Jackson's and thinking
that place better suited to me, I saw these gentlemen and
was soon installed there. I have had five subscribers.
I searched for lodgings everywhere, but in vain, and was
debating what to do, when Dr. Harlan's friend, INIr. E. W.
Sergeant, met me, and insisted on my spending my time
under his roof He would take no refusal, so I accepted.
How much kindness do I meet with everywhere. I have
had much running about and calling on different people,
and at ten o'clock this evening was still at Mr. Bentley's,
not knowing where Mr. Sergeant resided. Mr. Surr was
so kind as to come with me in search of the gentleman;
we found him at home and he gave me his groom to go
for my portmanteau. Of course I returned to Mr. Bent-
ley's again, and he returned with me to see mc safely
lodged. Mr. Sergeant insisted on his coming in; we had
coffee, and sat some time conversing ; it is now past two
of the morning.

May 8. I saw Mr. Gregg and the fair Helen of Quarry
Bank this morning; they met me with great friendship. I
have saved myself much trouble here by exhibiting no
drawings, only the numbers of my work now ready. Mr.
Sergeant has purchased my drawing of the Doves for
twenty pounds.

May 13, Sunday. My time has been so completely
occupied during each day procuring subscribers, and all
my evenings at the house of one or another of my friends
and acquaintances that my hours have been late, and
I have bidden thee good-night without writing it down.^
Manchester has most certainly retrieved its character, for

^ Nearly every entry in all the journals begins and ends with a morning
greeting, and an affectionate good-night. These have been omitted with
occasional exceptions.

248 AUDUBON

I have had eighteen subscribers in one week, which is more
than anywhere else.

Liverpool, Monday, May IJf. I breakfasted with my
good friend Bentley, and left in his care my box contain-
ing 250 drawings, to be forwarded by the " caravan," — the
name given to covered coaches. I cannot tell how ex-
tremely kind Mr. Sergeant has been to me during all my
stay. He exerted himself to procure subscribers as if the
work had been his own, and made my time at his house
as pleasant as I could desire. I was seated on top of the
coach at ten o'clock, and at three was put down safely
at Dale St. I went immediately to the Institution, where I
found Mr. Munro. I did not like to go to Green Bank
abruptly, therefore shall spend the night where I am, but
sent word to the Rathbones I was here. I have called on
Dr. Chorley and family, and Dr. Traill ; found all well and
as kind as ever. At six Mr. Wm. Rathbone came, and
gave me good tidings of the whole family; I wait im-
patiently for the morrow, to see friends all so dear.

]\Iay 19, Saturday night. I leave this to-morrow morn-
ing for London, a little anxious to go there, as I have
oftentimes desired to be in sight of St. Paul's Church.
I have not been able to write because I felt great pleasure
in letting my good friends the Rathbones know what I
had done since I was here last; so the book has been in
the fair hands of my friend Hannah. " Lady " Rathbone
and Miss Hannah are not at Green Bank, but at Woodcroft,
and there we met. While I waited in the library how
different were my thoughts from those I felt on my first
entry into Liverpool. As I thought, I watched the well-
shaped Wagtails peaceably searching for food within a few
paces of me. The door opened, and I met my good,
kind friends, the same as ever, full of friendship, benev-
olence, and candor. I spent most of the morning with them,
and left my book, as I said, with them. Thy book, I
should have written, for it is solely for thee. I was driven

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 249

into Liverpool by Mr, Rd. Rathbone, with his mother and
Miss Hannah, and met Mr. Chorley by appointment, that
we might make the respectful visits I owed. First to
Edward Roscoe's, but saw only his charming wife ; then to
William Roscoe's. The venerable man had just returned
from a walk, and in an instant our hands were locked.
He asked me many questions about my publication,
praised the engraving and the coloring. He has much
changed. Time's violent influence has rendered his cheeks
less rosy, his eye-brows more bushy, forced his fine eyes
more deeply in their sockets, made his frame more bent,
his walk weaker; but his voice had all its purity, his lan-
guage all its brilliancy. I then went to the Botanic
Gardens, where all was rich and beautiful ; the season
allows it. Then to Alexander Gordon's and Mr. Hodgson.
Both out, and no card in my pocket. Just like me. I
found the intelligent Swiss ^ in his oflfice, and his " Ah,
Audubon! Comment va?" was all-sufficient. I left him to
go to Mr. Rathbone's, where I have spent every night except
the last. As usual I escaped every morning at four for
my walk and to write letters. I have not done much work
since here, but I have enjoyed that which I have long
desired, the society of my dear friends the Rathbones.
Whilst writing this, I have often wished I could take in the
whole at one glance, as I do a picture; this need has fre-
quently made me think that writing a good book must be
much more difficult than to paint a good picture. To my
great joy, Mr. Bentley is going with me to London. With
a heavy heart I said adieu to these dear Rathbones, and
will proceed to London lower in spirits than I was in
Edinburgh the first three days.

Shrewsbury, May 20. After all sorts of difficulties with
the coach, which left one hour and a half late, we reached
Chester at eleven, and were detained an hour. I therefore
took a walk under the piazzas that go all through the

1 Mr. Melly.

250 AUDUBON

town. Where a street has to be crossed we went down
some steps, crossed the street and re-ascended a few steps
again. Overhead are placed the second stories of every
house ; the whole was very new and singular to me. These
avenues are clean, but rather low; my hat touched the top
once or twice, and I want an inch and a half of six feet,
English measure. At last we proceeded ; passed the vil-
lage of Wrexham, and shortly after through another village,
much smaller, but the sweetest, neatest, and pleasantest
spot I have seen in all my travels in this country. It was
composed of small, detached cottages of simple appear-
ance, divided by gardens sufficiently large for each house,
supplied with many kinds of vegetables and fruit trees,
luxuriant with bloom, while round the doors and windows,
and clambering over the roofs, were creeping plants and
vines covered with flowers of different hues. At one spot
were small beds of variegated tulips, the sweet-scented
lilies at another, the hedges looked snowy white, and
everywhere, in gentle curves, abundance of honeysuckle.
This village was on a gentle declivity from which, far over
the Mersey, rising grounds were seen, and the ascending
smoke of Liverpool also. I could not learn the name of this
little terrestrial paradise, and must wait for a map to tell
me. We dined in a hurry at Eastham, and after passing
through a narrow slip in Wales, and seeing what I would
thus far call the most improved and handsomest part of
England, we are now at Shrewsbury for five hours. Mr.
Bentley and I had some bread and butter and pushed out
to sec the town, and soon found ourselves on the bank of
the Severn, a pretty little stream about sixty yards wide.
Many men and boys were doing what they called fishing,
but I only saw two sprats in one of the boys' hats during
the whole walk. Some one told us that up the river we
should find a place called the " Quarry " with beautiful
trees, and there we proceeded. About a dozen men, too
awkward to be sailors, were rowing a long, narrow, pleas-

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 251

ure boat, while one in the bow gave us fine music with
the bugle. We soon reached the Quarry, and found our-
selves under tall, luxuriant, handsome trees forming broad
avenues, following the course of the river, extremely agree-
able. Indeed, being a woodsman, I think this the finest
sight I have seen in England. How the Severn winds
round the town, in the form of a horse-shoe ! About the
centre of this horse-shoe, another avenue, still more beau-
tiful, is planted, going gently up the hill towards the town.
I enjoyed this walk more than I can tell thee, and when I
thought of the disappointment I had felt at five hours delay
at Shrewsbury, and the pleasure I now felt, I repeated
for the more than one thousand and first time, " Cer-
tainly all is for the best in this world, except our own sins."
London, May 21, 1827. I should begin this page per-
haps with a great exclamation mark, and express much
pleasure, but I have not the wish to do either ; to me
London is just like the mouth of an immense monster,
guarded by millions of sharp-edged teeth, from which if
I escape unhurt it must be called a miracle. I have many
times longed to see London, and now I am here I feel a
desire beyond words to be in my beloved woods. The
latter part of the journey I spent closely wrapped in both
coat and cloak, for we left Shrewsbury at ten, and the
night was chilly ; my companions were Mr. Bentley and
two Italians, one of whom continually sang, and very well,
while the other wished for daylight. In this way we con-
tinued till two of the morning, and it was then cold. From
twelve until four I was so sleepy I could scarcely hold up
m}' head, and I suffered much for the want of my regu-
lar allowance of sleep which I take between these hours ;
it is not much, yet I greatly missed it We breakfasted
at Birmingham at five, where the worst stuff bearing the
name of coffee that I ever tasted w^as brought to us. I
say tasted, for I could do no more. The country con-
stantly improved in beauty; on we drove through Strat-

252 AUDUBON

ford-on-Avon, Woodstock, and Oxford. A cleaner and
more interesting city I never saw ; three thousand students
are here at present. It was ten o'clock when we entered
the turnpike gate that is designated as the line of demar-
cation of London, but for many miles I thought the road
forming a town of itself. We followed Oxford Street its
whole length, and then turning about a few times came to
the Bull and Mouth tavern where we stay the night.

May 23. Although two full days have been spent in
London, not a word have I written ; my heart would not
bear me up sufficiently. Monday was positively a day of
gloom to me. After breakfast Mr. Bentley took a walk
with me through the City, he leading, and I following as
if an ox to the slaughter. Finally we looked for and
found lodgings, at 55 Great Russell Street, to which wc at
once removed, and again I issued forth, noting nothing but
the great dome of St. Paul's Cathedral. I delivered sev-
eral letters and was well received by all at home. With
Mr. Children * I went in the evening to the Linnaean Society
and exhibited my first number. All those present pro-
nounced my work unrivalled, and warmly wished me
success.

Siiuday, May 28. Ever since my last date I have been
delivering letters, and attending the meetings of different
societies. One evening was spent at the Royal Society,
where, as in all Royal Societies, I heard a dull, heavy
lecture. Yesterday my first call was on Sir Thos. Law-
rence ; it was half-past eight, as I was assured later would
not do. I gave my name, and in a moment the servant
returned and led me to him. I was a little surprised to
see him dressed as for the whole day. He rose and shook
hands with me the moment I pronounced my good friend
Sully's name. While he read deliberately the two letters
I had brought, I examined his face; it did not exhibit the

^ John George Children, 1777-1852, English physicist and naturalist, at
this time secretary of the Royal Society.

THE EUROPEAN JOURNALS 253

look of genius that one is always expecting to meet with
in a man of his superior talents ; he looked pale and pen-
siv^e. He wished much to see my drawings, and appointed
Thursday at eight of the morning, when, knowing the
value of his time, I retired. Several persons came to see
me or my drawings, among others Mr. Gallatin, the Amer-
ican minister. I went to Covent Garden Theatre with Mr.
Bentley in the evening, as he had an admittance ticket.
The theatre opens at six, and orders are not good after
seven. I saw Madame Vestris ; she sings middling well,
but not so well in my opinion as Miss Neville in Edin-
burgh. The four brothers Hermann I admired very
much; their voices sounded like four flutes.

May 29. I have been about indeed like a post-boy,
taking letters everywhere. In the evening I went to
the Athenaeum at the corner of Waterloo Place, expecting
to meet Sir Thomas Lawrence and other gentlemen ; but
I was assured that about eleven or half-past was the fash-
ionable time for these gentlemen to assemble ; so I re-
turned to my rooms, being worn out ; for I must have
walked forty miles on these hard pavements, from Idol
Lane to Grosvenor Square, and across in many different
directions, all equally far apart.

Tuesday, May 30. At twelve o'clock I proceeded with
some of my drawings to see Mr. Gallatin, our Envoy cx-
traordmaire. He has the ease and charm of manner of a
perfect gentleman, and addressed me in French. Seated
by his side we soon travelled (in conversation) to Amer-
ica; he detests the English, and spoke in no measured
terms of London as the most disagreeable place in Europe.
While we were talking Mrs. and Miss Gallatin came in, and
the topic w^as changed, and my drawings were exhibited.
The ladies knew every plant, and Mr. Gallatin nearly every
bird. I found at home that new suit of clothes that my
friend Basil Hall insisted upon my procuring. I looked
this remarkable black dress well over, put it on, and thus

254 AUDUBON

attired like a mournful Raven, went to dine at Mr. Chil-
dren's. On my return I found a note from Lord Stanley,
asking me to put his name down as a subscriber ; this
pleased me exceedingly, as I consider Lord Stanley a man
eminently versed in true and real ornithological pursuits.
Of course my spirits are better; how little does alter a
man. A trifle raises him, a little later another casts him
down. Mr. Bentley has come in and tells me three poor
fellows were hanged at Newgate this morning for stealing
sheep. My God ! how awful are the laws of this land, to