CHAPTER XXXII

AUDUBON'S GREATEST TRIUMPH

Extension of his work—Financial panic and revolt of patrons—New western collections—His "Book of Nature" completed—Work on the letterpress in Edinburgh—Vacation in the Highlands—Commissions to Harris—Parting address to the reader—Dissolution of the Havell engraving establishment—The residuum of _The Birds of America_—Robert Havell, engraver, and his family—Lizars' first edition and the Havell reissues of plates—Brief manual for collectors—Appreciations—Total edition of _The Birds of America_—Past and present prices—The Rothschild incident.

After Audubon's return to England in the summer of 1837, the completion of his _magnum opus_ occupied but two years. Certain now of the ultimate success which would crown his efforts, he worked with a furious ardor, determined not only to execute his original plans, but to extend them, if necessary, to include every bird which had been discovered in America, or, at least, in the United States.

Audubon wrote Thomas Brewer in September that, for some unexplained cause, a large part of his collections made in Texas had probably been lost; when writing on October 29, the box containing all the eggs collected on the Gulf of Mexico had not come to hand. He continued:[145]

I authorize you to offer and to pay as much as _five dollars_ for an old _raven_, in the flesh, and perfect as far as _internals_ are concerned. European writers who a few years since were all agog to prove that our apparently analogous species were identical with those of Europe have suddenly "faced about," and pronounce our birds to be quite distinct species, and of course now say that our raven is indeed our raven! and all this because I proved that the _Corvus corone_ of Europe existed not in America. All this induces the present _natural_ student of nature to have his eyes and all his senses fully open, and to see into things further than we can into grindstones....

Charles Bonaparte, who has just this moment left me, has kindly proffered me his new North American species, and I hope to figure them all, thereby rendering my work the more complete, if not quite perfect, as far as truly well-known species are now thought to exist in the limits of our country, or indeed those of North America.

When writing his young friend again, on November 18, he implored him to proceed

with all possible industry, in procuring the birds of my list, in rum. I hope you will have a pair of pied ducks (_Fuligula labradora_) for me. Send me all the drawings of eggs you can so that they reach me here by the 1st to 10th of March next. If the birds arrive in London by the middle of April, it will do.... I send you inclosed the copy of an advertisement of my work, which I wish you to hand over to our most generous friend George Parkman, Esq., M.D., and ask him to have it inserted in one or more of the Boston newspapers as soon as convenient.

Again, on the 22nd, he admonished his friend not to send his "drawings of eggs by _letter_," but to forward all such to N. Berthoud, "and ask him to send them by captains of London packets. The postages are very heavy these hard times, and I am not a _prince_."

Although Audubon's "Prospectus" called for only eighty parts of 400 plates, by 1837 the number of new discoveries had multiplied to such an extent that he faced the dilemma of either enlarging his work or issuing it in an incomplete state. In the summer of that year large numbers of his British patrons discontinued their subscriptions, a result, no doubt, of the disastrous panic which had driven many into bankruptcy, and still more refused to take any plates in excess of the stipulated number. To alleviate this anticipated difficulty, he had already begun to admit composite plates, on which from two to six different kinds of birds were grouped together, much in the older style which he abhorred; but, in spite of this concession and omission of the eggs, colored figures of which he had hoped to give at the end, he was obliged to add seven parts, thus swelling the total number of large plates to 435, which represented 489 supposedly distinct species of American birds.

When Audubon was facing such protests in England, Dr. J. K. Townsend[146] returned to Philadelphia with a second great collection from the Far West. How eager he was, at this psychological moment, to gain access to these ornithological treasures is clearly shown in the following letter[147] to Edward Harris:

_Audubon to Edward Harris_

[Outside address] TO EDD HARRIS Esqr. Moorestown New Jersey 9 miles from Philadelphia Pennsylvania U. S. A.

Duplicate

LONDON, _Oct. 26th., 1837_.

I have this moment received your dear letter of the 4. instant, for the contents of which, I do indeed most truly thank you, but the most important point contained in it, Dr. Spencer is now at Paris quite well and happy. I have not heard of his supposed intentions to visit Russia, at least not until you have shown yourself in Europe for awhile. When will you come? I have not received one single letter from Dr. Morton since my return to England, and have been the more surprised at this, because I look upon _him_ as a worthy good man and as one whom, since my last visit to him, I cannot but consider as my friend.

The return of Dr. Townsend to our happy land has filled me with joy, and trebly so when you tell me that he is as friendly disposed to me as I ever have been towards him. I congratulate you my dear friend, in the step which you have so kindly taken in my favour, by first selecting all such Bird-skins as you or Townsend have considered as new, and also in having given freedom to Dr. Morton to pay Dr. Townsend Fifty Dollars for the skins selected by you, under the _prudent_ considerations or restrictions talked of in your letter. May I receive all the Bird skins very soon, for depend upon it, now or never is for me the period to push on my publication. If I have any regret to express it is, that Townsend or Dr. Morton or yourself did not at once forward to me the _whole_ of the Bird skins brought latterly by Townsend, for I can assure you that it has become a matter of the _greatest niceity_ to distinguish the slight though _positive_ species lines of demarkation between our species of Birds—and if on this reaching you, the least doubt exists amongst yourselves respecting any one, why send it to me at once by the very earliest conveyance. If by New York, with letter to N. Berthoud to lose not a day, provided a packet, either to _Liverpool_ or London, is ready to sail! Had Townsend sent me the _whole_ of his disposible birds, I might now have perhaps been able to have mad[e] him a remittance in cash, which the single arrival of the German Naturalists, who are now in California may hereafter put an end to. Mention this to him, nay, shew him this letter if you please and assure him that I am willing to exert myself in his behalf. Indeed, I wish you to urge him in forwarding me either his own manuscripts or a copy of all such parts as appertain to Birds, as soon as possible, knowing (I think) that he will not undertake to publish them himself under his present (I am sorry to say) embarrassed pecuniary circumstances. Tell him that I want all about the habits of _any_ Birds which he has written upon, especially, however, those found from the beginning of his journeys until his return, and appertaining to species belonging to our fauna or otherwise. Their exact measurements, dates, localities, migratories or vice versa inclinations, descriptions of nests, eggs &c. periods of breeding; in a word all that he can, or will be pleased to send me—and you may assure Townsend, that all he will confide to me will be published as coming from _him_, although I may think fit to alter the phraseology in some instances. Tell him to be extremely careful in naming his new species, and that [if] he thinks of difficulties in this matter, to leave it to me, as _here_ I am able to see all the late published works (and they are not a few) and work out the species with more advantage than any one can at present in Philadelphia. Do not take this as egotism far from it, it is in friendship and for his sake that I venture on undertaking such an arduous task. I am _exceedingly_ [anxious] to receive a letter from him (for Nuttall, though an excellent friend of mine and a most worthy man, will not answer me in time on this subject) of _all_ the birds contained in the _plates_ now at the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philada., _which he saw on the Rocky Mountains_, over those mountains, _on the Columbia River_ and off _the coast_ of our _Western boundaries_. This I want much, and if he would simply dictate to you plate 1, not there, plate 2, there, plate 3 there &c. &c. this would amply answer my purpose, and this I wish you not to neglect to forward me _as soon as possible by duplicate_! Of course I cannot speak upon any one of the new species of which you speak until I have examined them all. To talk of new species in London is a matter not now understood in any part of America, and sorry will you be as well as himself, when I assure you that out of the _twelve_ supposed to be, and published by Dr. Morton, from Townsend's first cargo, not more than six are actually undescribed, although I have taken upon myself the risk of publishing _his_ names to the Birds on my plate, but which of course I am obliged to correct in my letter press. _The little beautiful owl_, I would venture to say has been described by Vigors at least ten years ago, &c. &c. Swainson never goes to bed without describing some new species, and Charles Bonaparte, during his late visit to London, has published as many as 20 of a night at the Museum of the Zoological Society Insects &c. &c. Stir, work hard, [be] _prompt_ in every thing. My work _must_ soon be finished, and unless _all is received here_ by the month of May next, why I shall have to abandon to others what I might myself have accomplished. God bless you, many happy years. We are all well, thank God, just now. Remember me and us kindly to all around and every friend and believe me ever your most truly and sincerely attached friend,

JOHN J. AUDUBON.

TO EDWARD HARRIS, Esqre.

Addressed, care "Messrs. Rathbone, Brothers & Co. Liverpool."

When you send to Liverpool.

If Townsend has brought Birds Eggs, ask him to send them me. I will return all to him that he may want. I greatly regret that you did not find me the _water_ Birds of which you speak, as I might have perchance found something new or curious among them. The Golden Eye Duck especially, if any be had?

In reference to the new species of birds which had come into his hands, Audubon said:

What was I to do? Why, to publish them, to be sure; for this I should have done, to the best of my power, even if every subscriber in Europe had refused to take them. What! said I, shall the last volume of the "Birds of America" be now closed, at a time when new species are in my hands? No! And in spite of threats from this quarter and that, that such and such persons would discontinue their subscriptions (which indeed they have done), and refuse to take the few numbers that would have rendered their copies complete, my wish to do all that was in my power has been accomplished.

Doubtless we should hesitate to blame many of Audubon's subscribers for wishing to be relieved from an obligation which for a period of ten years had cost them from $50 to $100 per annum, not to speak of any who had met financial disaster in the panic of that day, but at this juncture he really had no choice. When his eightieth Number, originally intended to be the last, appeared in 1837, many important kinds of birds, including ducks, swan, tern, and the Flamingo, as well as grouse, warblers and woodpeckers, were still calling loud for recognition. So generous of space had he been in the earlier phase of his undertaking that twenty species were each shown on two distinct plates, while in the end the need of compression compelled him to introduce thirty-five composite plates.

Subscribers to _The Birds of America_ at the beginning had been permitted to take a part or the whole, and many incomplete sets were circulated, upwards of 120, as Audubon declared in 1839, having then discontinued their subscriptions. Towards the end of his undertaking, owing to the great expense and uncertainty involved, he was disinclined to supply any but regular subscribers, as shown by the following letter written from London, May 25, 1838, to William A. Colman of New York:[148]

... We find that six of the plates you want are not only largest figs, but some of them extremely full and difficult to colour, and he [Mr. Havell] says that our Printers and our Colourers would not undertake to go throu them without charging a most extravagant price. I have no extra plates whatever on hand, and in consequence of this must be obliged to decline furnishing you with them.

If at the conclusion of my publication I find any of the plates you want they will be sent to you forthwith, but I wish you not to calculate upon this until you hear again from me, or from my sons on this subject.

My work will [be] entirely finished by the end of next month, when our engraving and Printing establishment will be broken up, and few will indeed there be copies to be had by any one, who has not subscribed to the "Birds of America."

Should you see any of my American subscribers who have not as yet seen any portion of the work, please to assure them that as soon as the fourth volume is quite finished, and _bound_ according to their desires, their copies will be forwarded at once to their respective homes, or to whomsoever they have directed me to send their copies.

On May 26 Audubon wrote Thomas M. Brewer that "Edward Harris, one of the best men of this world," had reached his house "yesterday at noon, after a pleasant passage of fourteen days and a few hours." "My illustrations," he said, "will be finished on the 20th of next month, and the fourth volume of text shortly afterward"; at the end he added: "When I return to our beloved land, I intend to spend a full season about the lakes in Northern Vermont, for, from what I hear, much knowledge is to be acquired there and thereabouts." After returning to New York in September of the following year, he again alluded to the ramble he would like to take "along the borders of the famous lakes of New Hampshire and Vermont," but was unable to bring it to pass at that time.

To depart but slightly from the chronological sequence, the last to be preserved of Audubon's letters to William Swainson,[149] written at a time when his great work was drawing to a close, will be given at this point:

_Audubon to William Swainson_

LONDON _11th Jan 1838_

MY DEAR MR SWAINSON,

The severe indisposition of my good wife which has continued almost unabated now since I had the pleasure of seeing you, is my excuse for not having ere this answered your two notes, especially the last of the 8th instant.—

Your box & contents came perfectly safe to hand, and I think will soon again be in your possession in like good order. I certainly should like to see the Buteo [?] vulgaris to compare it with mine (that at the mouth of the Columbia) and the one described by Nuttall before the return from America of D. [Dr. John] Richardson & of which it seems you were not aware.—I am glad nevertheless that if differing from the European bird of that name the Transatlantic bird will be honoured by your own name.

Charles Bonaparte is at Paris & is to remain there. I am well informed for about a fortnight.—He left London in great haste and I assure you has left no parcels or letters for you or anybody else either with us or with Havell.—I am sorry that he should have disapointed you & your dear Children but——.

I cannot say just now whether I have a specimen of Muscicapa Trailli "the Prince" having two of my giving, if however, I have another I will send it to you with great good will & pleasure—As regards your queries respecting several species of quiscalus or Crow black birds You are correct for I have myself discovered two in America one in the Floridas the other in the Arkansaw River, both of which will be given in my work.—That more exist I have no doubt especially further South and West.

You have described a swan in the Fauna Boriali Americana under the name of the Cygnus Bewicki, but as your measurements there and then given are very far from those of the swan now known under the name of Old Bewick I should feel obliged to you to let me know whether the specimen you described from was the identical bird procured by Captain Lyons, and of which that gentleman described the nest? And again I should like you to tell me whether you have seen the Clangula vulgaris of Linn. that in the months of April & May?

Many thanks for all your kind wishes & may you and yours enjoy the like return of many many new & happy years.—Call upon us when you come to Town and believe me my dear Mr Swainson ever sincerily

yours attached friend

JOHN J. AUDUBON

I have had the jawache for nearly one week & have not been out of the house

4 WIMPOLE STREET

Audubon's day of greatest triumph came on June 20, 1838, when he had the supreme satisfaction of seeing the last plate of his "Book of Nature," _The Birds of America_, completed. Having been begun virtually in the autumn of 1826, it was in press nearly twelve years. The sumptuous character of this work, its commanding beauty, as well as its surprising accuracy, considering all the obstacles of time and circumstance, mark it, when combined with its letterpress, as one of the most remarkable and interesting undertakings in the history of literature and science in the nineteenth century. Unique as it was in every detail of its workmanship, it will remain for centuries a shining example of the triumph of human endeavor and of the spirit and will of man. This is true in spite of any errors it may disclose, and even if it be conceded that bare bones and plain photographs are more valuable for elucidating the technicalities of science than the most artistic productions of the pen, pencil or brush.

Audubon's labors in England, however, did not end with the completion of his plates, for two volumes of his "Biographies" still remained to be published. He was in London during the early summer of 1838, when he recorded a visit from John Bachman, who had come to Europe for the recuperation of his health. He was then obliged to hasten to Edinburgh, where he was soon joined by both Bachman and Victor Audubon and later by other members of his family. For the convenience of work he took rooms near the museums, on the south side of the city, not far from Lauriston Place and within easy reach of "The Meadows," a well known recreation ground.

The following letter,[150] sent to his son John soon after his arrival at the Scottish capital, and addressed "No. 4 Wimpole Street, London," abounds in interesting personal details, but the student of birds would find more significant its clear statement of his relations with MacGillivray; it shows us the anatomist at work, and Audubon as his student and "secretary." "Under his kind tuition," he said, when writing at a little later time, "I think I have learned something of anatomy, which may enable me, at some future period, to produce observations that may prove interesting...."

_Audubon to his Son, John_

EDINBURGH, _July 1st, 1838, Sunday_.

MY DEAREST FRIENDS

Your joint letter of the 27th Wednesday, did not reach me until yesterday afternoon, probably because the steamer which brought it did not leave London on that evening on a/c of the coronation etc., Here the festivals were poor beyond description, and although scarcely anything was to be seen, the whole population was on foot the entire day, and nearly the whole night, gazing at each other like lost sheep.—No illuminations except at two shops, Mr. Henderson's and another close by him.—The fireworks at the castle consisted merely of about one hundred rockets, not a gun was fired from the batteries. MacGillivray & I went to see the fireworks at 10 p.m., and soon returned disgusted.—His museum (College of Surgeons) and the Edinburgh Museum were thrown open _gratis_, and were thronged to excess Upwards of 20000 in the first, and about 25000 in the other; all was however quite orderly. The day was showery; cloudy and dismal at times, but the evening was clear and fine.—Mr. Hill's father died on the morning of the 27th and I have not seen Alexander H., since. Many thanks to Maria for her bunch of letters, and the few lines of her own to me, I hope that everything will go on well with you all.

We begin printing _tomorrow 2d of July, 1838!!_ remember that Mesdames et Messieurs! and I intend to proceed with all possible despatch and care. _All_ the birds in rum will be inspected as far as internal or digestive organs, trachea &c are concerned, and as I am constantly present in the dissecting room, I think I shall know something about the matter anon.—I am almost in hopes to see Victor tomorrow night but cannot be sure. There are somewhere at home the nests of the birds found on the Columbia by Nuttall and Townsend, I believe that of Bewick's Wren is among them; send them _all_, very carefully packed. I want the journal of my first trip to the Floridas, which was cut out of my large leather journal, previous to going to Labrador, also a letter on the habits of the Yellow-bellied Cuckoo, by a gentleman at Charleston. If it cannot be found perhaps Maria will recollect his name, being a friend of John Bachman, if so send me that, _in full_ if possible. It is the gentleman in whose garden I procured the small and large cuckoos in the same nest.—

I have written fortyfour articles for my appendix and will continue whenever I am not otherwise engaged, so as to save time at last.—I am sorry for the death of poor Wickliffe but glad that his brother was with him at New York previously, and that we, at least, have done all that we could for him. MacGillivray is quite well, and works very hard, poor fellow—I am glad of John's repainting the head by VanDyke, two copies of such heads are valuable to him, besides his improving by so working—When Victor has left for this place, John must pay much attention to the colourers and call also at the bookbinder. Havell ought to exert himself in having some 4th vols; delivered as soon as possible.

My last letter which was written last Sunday, was put too late in the office, which closed on that day at two o'clock, and did not therefore leave this till four o'clock on Monday afternoon; this one will have a better chance, for I will take it myself to the general office. I have seen no one hardly since my last, I am indeed as busily engaged as ever, and rarely go to bed before eleven—being with Mr. MacGillivray until generally past ten, describing etc., I rise at four or earlier, he at ten; but I go to bed at eleven, he at two. I discovered that he was adverse to the examination of the intestinal canals etc., because many of my birds which are common to both countries will be published before his 2d vol., can now possibly be; but as soon as I told him that I had already said in my introduction, that the anatomical structure was declared to be _his_, he was much pleased and began on the instant.

Today is very dismal, and it will rain probably until night; I wish we had here some of the warm weather of which dearest Mamma speaks. I have had but one walk to Arthur's Seat, but now and then I stroll to the meadows which are close to me, and now look well.—From the window of my sitting room I overlook the garden of Mr. Frazer our printer, and now and then speak to him there, I have not yet however visited him.—I will recollect the Queen's farthing when next I see Professor Wilson, but doubt much if he will recollect the least idea of it. Has Charley written or said anything to Victor about the review of the work; remember me to Healey.—

I suppose that the crown of England sits very quietly down, and that all was very superfine. I have not so much as seen a paper since I left you.

God bless you all, dearest friends, and take good care of Mamma and Maria,

Ever your firmly attached father and friend

J. J. AUDUBON.

No. 7 Archibald Place, Lauriston.

Audubon's fourth volume, the printing of which was announced in this letter, was published in November, and at the conclusion of the introduction he said:

I believe the time to be fast approaching when much of the results obtained from the inspection of the exterior alone will be laid aside; when museums filled with the stuffed skins will be considered insufficient to afford a knowledge of birds; and when the student will go forth not only to observe the habits and haunts of animals, but to procure specimens of them to be carefully dissected.

These prophetic remarks, which were no doubt inspired by the studies of MacGillivray, have found ample justification in the later history of ornithology; to give a single illustration, it was through the aid of anatomy only, in this instance, of the vocal organs, that modern students have been able to define the true Passerine or Oscine birds, as distinguished from all others, and as the highest representatives of the avian class.

In the autumn of 1838, when Mrs. Audubon was still suffering from impaired health, the naturalist paused in his work to indulge in a short vacation, the first in many years. On September 14, he wrote to Edward Harris, who was then in Scotland:[151]

_Audubon to Edward Harris_

EDINBURGH, _14 Sep'., 1838_.

MY DEAR FRIEND:

Not having heard anything from you in answer to my last, I suppose that you may yet be away from Glasgow, but as we ourselves are going off tomorrow to the "Highlands," with a view to be at Glasgow on Thursday next, I write to you now, with the hope of meeting you _then_. Nothing of importance has occurred here since my last, but _the book_ has considerably swollen in its progress towards completion.

We all unite in best wishes to you and I remain as ever your most truly attached and sincere friend,

JOHN J. AUDUBON

We intend being home again on Saturday next.

[Addressed] To EDWARD HARRIS Esqr. Comrie's Royal Hotel, Glasgow.

With MacGillivray as guide, Audubon and his family visited Stirling, Doun and Callander, where they "marched in a body to the Falls of Bracklin, guided by a rosy-cheeked Highland lassie, stopping now and then by the way to pick up a wild flower,—a blue-bell, a 'gowan,' or a dog-rose, or to listen to the magpies and titmice." From Callander they ascended to Loch Katrine, and explored the Trossachs, "admired by many, chiefly or entirely on account of Scott's description of them"; at the tavern there, said Audubon, "with that most curious innate desire which there is in us of becoming older, for the purpose of enjoying the morrow, I went to rest, anxious to see the morn, and discover what existed beyond the crags that had bounded my view."

From the wild and beautiful scenes about Loch Katrine, which stirred the naturalist's emotions and evoked the desire to remain until the curtain of night had gradually and peacefully closed the landscape from their view, they proceeded to the rocky shores of Loch Lomond, where they found "a few small stone cabins, some fat bairns, abundance of ale, and a sufficiency of capital whisky." After crossing to Tarbet and examining both the head and the foot of the lake, they went on from Balloch to Dumbarton by stage, and thence by steamer to Glasgow; there they spent a few days, and returned to Edinburgh by way of Dumbarton and Lanark. Steamers and coaches, slow as they then were, were all too fast for Audubon on this journey, and he declared that if ever again he visited the Highlands, it should be on foot, "for no man, with nerve and will, and an admirer of the beauties of nature, can ever truly enjoy the pleasures of travelling, unless he proceed in this manner."

Mrs. Audubon's health had not improved by the journey, for shortly after their return she was again taken ill; she was placed in the care of Dr. John Argyle Robertson, for whose efficient aid and "kind and gentle treatment," said Audubon, "we can never cease to cherish the most lively feelings of affection." "It is a curious part of my history," he continues, "that during the whole of my sojourn in Britain, none of the principal medical advisers whom we had occasion to employ would receive any recompense from us."

By the 5th of November, 1838, but a few days after the issue of the fourth volume of his "Biographies," the printing of the fifth and last had already begun. The following letter[152] is interesting for its personal details, and in showing that his confidence in the existence of the "bird of Washington"[153] had not been shaken:

_Audubon to Edward Harris_

EDINBURGH _December 19th., 1838_.

MY DEAR FRIEND:

Your letter of the 13th. instant to Victor reached us this morning, and glad were we all to hear from you.

My object in writing to you is, for the purpose of assuring you that I feel great [pleasure] in preparing a box of bird skins for you according to your desire. It is true, however, that I am now on the eve of commencing my synoptical arrangement of our birds, I shall not be able to show you as many of my specimens [as] I could otherwise have done, but you must take the will for the deed. The Box will be taken as far as London by Victor, who will leave us on the first of January. You will find in it a list of the contents, and I trust such bird skins as may answer your purpose well. Besides these Victor will also attend to your request as soon as in New York and will ship to you by way of Havre as you direct.

I am glad that you should have seen what you conceive to be the great rara avis F. Washingtonii. I am sorry you could not have pocketed it, but who knows if it is not left yet in store for you—and I to shoot a pair of these noble birds at The West, and that, after having satisfactorily examined its habits, its eggs, or its young! _Bonaparte_, between you and I, is exceedingly ignorant as regards our birds, as I found to my cost when he was in London, and where he pumped me sadly too much, but it is now over and I forgive him as I do all others who have or who _may_ try to injure me.

John Bachman wrote to me that he had left in commission to Trudeau, the purchase for me of a copy of Vieillot's Oiseaux de l'Amérique Septentrionale, and also a copy of Boié or Bojé work[154] on birds generally, but I have received neither books or promises of them from Trudeau as yet, perhaps you would undertake the task yourself, and show to Havell as soon as possible, for I shall be sadly in want of them in a few weeks more. I should also like you to try to find Mr. Augustus Thorndike of Boston, to whom Victor wrote a few days ago, with the view to inquire from that Gentleman when he wished _his_ copy of the Birds of America to be delivered. Victor addressed his letter to "his Hotel" or to the care of the "American Embassy." We are not sure, however, whether he is in Paris at present, and let me know what discoveries you have made as regards this.—Victor will remain ten days in London and wishes you, should you write to him there, to put your letter _under cover_ to _Havell_ and request him to _keep_ it. Victor will write you from thence.

I cannot account why Trudeau has not written to me in answer to my last, now full two months old? Should you _perchance_ discover a specimen of the Bird of Washington in Paris and purchase the same, I should like you to send it to me _on loan_ to enable me to compare it with mine, and the Immature of the _F. Albicilla of Europe_!

I have got twelve sheets of the 5th. Vol. of Biographies already printed, and I expect to have quite finished by the 1st. of April next. I have decided on the _Trichas_ resembling _Sylvia Philadelphia_ of Wilson. It is a distinct species, but what will probably surprise you more, the _S. Agilis_ of the same author is also perfectly distinct from either. All this you will plainly see when you read their separate descriptions and compare the three species.

I wish you would ask Trudeau whether _he_ recollects the specimen of an Eagle send by Townsend in his first collection, numbering 54 and which the latter has lost, though he considered it as a new species. It was procured in California. Townsend speaks sorrowfully of the loss of this specimen. It never came under my eye, did it come under yours? Ask Trudeau whether he ever saw my Hirundo Serripennis in America. Bachman wrote to me that Trudeau thought he had in the skins of Frederick Ward. I think Trudeau will be pleased with the anatomy of our birds, as it opens misteries hitherto unknown in connection with the relative affinities of some species toward others and assists in the formation of groups &c., in what some day or other, will be called a _Natural arrangement_!

I wish I could have spent a few weeks in Paris with you and Trudeau, as I readily imagine that some new species of North American birds, may yet be found there unknown to the World of Science. I have written to Mr. Chevalier and to Townsend, but will not, I dare say, hear anything more of the former until through Victor, who intends to see him very shortly after his arrival in America.

My Dear Wife is much better than when you saw her, and I hope that when once again she has been safely landed on our shores and enjoyed the warmth of our own Summers, her health will be quite restored.

The _Little_ Lucy has grown as fat as butter, and the rest of us are well.

We all unite in kindest best wishes to you and to Trudeau, and I remain as ever, my Dear Friend,

Yours,

JOHN J. AUDUBON.

6 Alva Street.

In May, 1839, Audubon's fifth and last volume of the _Ornithological Biography_, consisting of 704 pages, was issued. It was followed almost immediately by _A Synopsis of the Birds of North America_, in which the efficient aid of MacGillivray was again enlisted. On May 4 Audubon wrote to Havell that this work was in press and would be ready in about a month's time; again, on the 30th of June he announced that it was finished and in the hands of the binder. With this methodical catalogue of the birds of North America then known and described, to the number of 491, fifty-two of which were new, Audubon's life and labors in England were brought to a close.

The introduction to the last volume of his "Biographies" begins as follows:

How often, Good Reader, I have longed to see the day on which my labours should be brought to an end! Many times, when I had laid myself down in the deepest recesses of the western forests, have I been suddenly awakened by the apparition of dismal prospects that have presented themselves to my mind. Now, sickness, methought, had seized me with burning hand, and hurried me away, in spite of all my fond wishes, from those wild woods in which I had so long lingered, to increase my knowledge of the objects which they offered to my view. Poverty, too, at times walked hand in hand with me, and on more than one occasion urged me to cast away my pencils, destroy my drawings, abandon my journals, change my ideas, and return to the world.

Later on he says: "You may well imagine how happy I am at this moment, when ... I find my journeys all finished, my anxieties vanished, my mission accomplished;" and he concludes: "I have pleasure in saying that my enemies have been few, and my friends numerous. May the God who granted me life, industry, and perseverance to accomplish my task, forgive the former, and forever bless the latter!"

Audubon's introductions to the five volumes of his "Biographies," from which we have frequently quoted, are characteristic; in them he cheers his subscribers, calls all his helpers and correspondents by name, and takes the public into his confidence by recording the acts which marked the steady progress of his work. Frequent appeals to the "good" and "gentle reader" have gone out of fashion, but in this instance they seem in keeping with the style and character of the man, and they were not made in vain. Audubon's belief in his mission was so plainly sincere, his power so manifest and his enthusiasm so ardent, that there were few who did not gladly acclaim the extraordinary success of the man who twelve years before had landed in Liverpool poor and unknown.

In the winter and spring of 1839, while Audubon was engaged in Edinburgh and Victor was in America, the settlement of his business affairs in London was entrusted mainly to Robert Havell, his engraver. At that time Havell was also pulling up roots, for he had caught the spirit of his patron and had decided to emigrate with his family to the United States; this involved disposing of his stock and breaking up his engraving and printing establishment at 77 Oxford Street. Havell had acquired distinction as well as a competence through his long engagement with Audubon, and being then in his forty-sixth year, he doubtless looked to America as a field for the fuller expression of his artistic aspirations and talents. How anxious Audubon was at this juncture regarding the disposition of the residual stock of his plates, his drawings, and his books, then in Havell's hands, is seen by the following letter,[155] written at Edinburgh, in the winter of this year.

_Audubon to Robert Havell_

EDINBURGH, _Feb. 20th, Monday, 1839._

MY DEAR MR. HAVELL

I perceive by the date of your letter of the 16th instant that you must have been some days beyond my expectations, in the receiving of my parcel to you, and that on that account my letter of Saturday last crossed yours of the same date. I thank you for what you say as regards the balance in my favor at Wright and Co.

Does Henry sail from _London Docks_ or from _Portsmouth_? and pray what is the name of the Captain of the "Wellington"? I do not precisely understand what you mean by the _loose sets_ which you desire to know how they should be packed? let me hear what they are and how many of them by return of mail. The _five_ perfect sets I think might all go into one case, tinned as usual and insured of course to the full amount of their value, as well as all others and to which I pray you to attend as if for your own self. It is impossible for me to go to London at present and indeed I cannot exactly tell when I will, and I trust to you entirely for the seeing that all the volumes are fair and good and passed through _your own_ inspection of them before they are packed. No volumes of Biographies must be put in the same boxes.

When you have disposed of your business, what will you do with what you have on hand belonging to us? This requires an answer from you at once. You have a great number of volumes of Biographies, Pictures, &c. &c., a regular list of which you ought to send me. I cannot yet say when the 5th vol. of Biographies will be finished, but will let you know as soon as I can. I received yesterday morning a letter from a gentleman who has procured a copy of the work through Mr. Eame the bookseller, he says that he has called upon you to say that he is missing _one plate_ and begs to have a copy of the plate struck and remitted to Mr. Eame who will pay you whatever price the extra trouble on this account may amount to, but he does not say what plate it is, and I therefor suppose that you do? If so as he is the brother-in-law of Mr. Walker of Ravensfield Park, one of our _good_ subscribers I would say do it for him! My wife begs of you to save all the loose prints which were returned to you by our son Victor, as well as any others whatever, perhaps among them you might find one to send Mr. Eame's subscriber?

On the 4th of this month the 'Great Western' was nearly half way across the Atlantic!! Sir William Jardine has published a capital review of the work! What a strange world we do learn in! Be sure to let me know about the original drawings at Henry's, if he has finished them, where they are &c. &c. We all remain as usual with kind good wishes to you all,

Your friend

JOHN J. AUDUBON. 6 Alva St.

[Superscribed] ROBERT HAVELL Esq. Engraver. 77 Oxford st London.

How fully Audubon's injunctions in regard to his residual stock, and particularly to scattered plates of the _Birds_, were followed, is not known, but it is certain that a part of this residuum remained in England, where it is occasionally turned up even at the present day. In a considerable number of the original plates which were found in a bookshop in New Oxford Street in August, 1912, twelve were in the uncolored state, and several had the appearance of rejects; moreover, in a collection of these plates received from England in 1910, there were nine copies of the same subject, the Painted Bunting (No. 11, Plate 53). Though a complete set of the plain plates is known,[156] and a considerable number were probably dispersed in America, they are very rare.

Audubon wrote to Havell again on the 13th of March, when he complained of the gross mistakes made by the "idle rascals" who were employed in filling orders in his shop, and who had so sadly mixed matters that no less than twelve numbers of his _Birds_ had come back to him, some of them containing one, three, and five copies of the same plate, instead of a "Number," and mixtures of the most incongruous sort; he thought that "a clever young man as a clerk was worth a hundred thick heads," and begged Havell again to send him "a correct list of what he shipped to America on his account, and that list not made by any other person than either himself or Mrs. Havell." His next injunction, on May 4, was to insure his copper-plates of _The Birds of America_ for £5,000, and to send them to either Victor Audubon or Mr. N. Berthoud, Number 2 Hanover Street, New York. At that moment Audubon was planning to return to America with his family by the _Great Western_ on July 6. In writing again on June 30, he remarked that he was not at all certain that Havell, who was then visiting at his native Reading, in Berkshire, would really sail on the 25th of July, since he had already postponed the journey so many times; he added that it would not even surprise him if his work on the _Quadrupeds_ of America might not be out before they could fish and shoot together in his "native land."

Havell eventually came to America with his wife and daughter on the ship _Wellington_, in September, 1839; they landed at New York after the 15th of that month, and for a time were the guests of the Audubons at Number 86 White Street. His brother, Henry,[157] who visited the United States in 1829, returned at about this time and established a print shop in Broadway, New York, but according to Robert's biographer, his enterprise was ruined by a fire, when he went back to England and he died there about 1840. After a brief residence in Brooklyn, Robert Havell settled at Sing Sing, now Ossining, at a beautiful spot on the Hudson, overlooking the Palisades, which he named "Rocky Mount." There he devoted himself with characteristic energy to painting and sketching, but he also engraved and published a number of excellent views of his favorite river, the Hudson, as well as of New York and other American cities. In 1857 he established himself at Tarrytown, where he built a house and studio, and where in his later years he produced many meritorious works in oils. "He never tired," says his biographer, "of the great, broad, sweeping Hudson, and propped up in bed, that he might gaze at will on this mighty river," he died at the age of eighty-five, November 11, 1878.[158]

Havell has been described as quite the opposite of Audubon in many of his characteristics, calm, deliberate, not easily discouraged, and fully his equal in industry, perseverance and determination. Audubon sometimes complained of his friend's lax business habits, but their long sustained and cordial relations were never broken during life, and their mutual debt was great. The engraver's first son, who lived but a year, was named Robert Audubon, and the naturalist, who was his godfather, held the child at its baptism at old St. James Church, Oxford Street, in 1827. A descendant of Luke Havell, who was a drawing master at Reading, uncle of Robert the second, possesses a silver loving-cup which Audubon presented to his engraver upon the completion of the second volume of his illustrations; it is inscribed "To Robert Havell, from his friend J. J. A. 1834."

When we consider the size of Audubon's plates, which required for the portrayal of his largest subjects, such as the Whooping Crane or Wild Turkey, an area of no less than five square feet, it will be seen that his engraver was compelled to adopt the most expeditious methods. This and kindred difficulties were overcome by Havell's skillful union of aquatint with etching and line engraving, but some of his smaller figures, as the Snow Birds (Plate 13), appear to have been etched in the usual way, with but slight use of either aquatint, dry-point or burin. In aquatinting the plate was usually bitten to the desired depth for the softer shading of feathers or foliage, or for the entire expression of sky, water or landscape. Says George Alfred Williams:[159]

Aquatint proper consists entirely of gradations of tone produced by biting with aquafortis into the copper through a resinous ground broken into a multitude of fine granules, that render the personal touch practically negligible, and in consideration of this we can appreciate the exceptionally skillful use Havell, Junior, made of the difficult process. The graining of the aquatint grounds is produced by allowing fine dust particles to settle upon the freshly prepared plate. It is to these grainings of different degrees of fineness that the engraver must look for the subtlety of the tonal surfaces, but strength is obtained usually through the use of the etched line. The chief limitation of the aquatint process lies in the great difficulty of getting more than a few differences of shade, as the ground goes to pieces rather rapidly under successive bitings, and the transitions from one tone to another are very few, so that half tones are not readily obtainable. It is in the economical use of these half tones that Havell, Junior, achieved so much and thereby produced a chiaroscuro seldom, if ever, equaled in aquatint.

Artists have sometimes frowned upon this combination of aquatint with other forms of engraving, especially when executed with the burin, for "like the permanent misery of a quarrelling married couple, they may ruin everything with discord"; but any such lack of harmony, when not overcome by Havell's skill, was usually completely subdued by the color which was subsequently applied to the printed sheet. This is seen by a comparison of the plain proof of such an elaborate plate as that of the rattlesnake attacking the mocking birds (Plate xxi) with the result attained in the finished impression. In replying to a criticism of Havell's work in 1830, Audubon expressed his conviction that "no birds were ever so beautifully and softly represented on copper," and any hardness, which his plates rarely showed, was not due to aquatinting, the inherent quality of which is softness. To quote our authority again:

In Havell's hands aquatint gave the essential structure of forms by a judicious use of the process called "feathering." This he often did upon the bare copper plate without a ground, allowing the acid to bite its own granular surface. In this way he produced the soft gradations and telling accents so necessary to the portrayal of birds, but by a further judicious use of line the accurate forms of both bird and plant life were given with great force and delicacy.

When Audubon first proposed to present the Congressional Library at Washington with a copy of his _Birds_, he asked Havell to do all the coloring himself; Havell

colored his prints in the usual manner by flowing washes of pure water-color tints over the monochrome proof which was printed from the copper plate. In this phase of the process the great charm of his genuine talent for water-color painting asserted itself. Aside from the first crude washes, put on by artists or colorists employed for the purpose, he himself applied the salient tones and all the more delicate tints.

Much misunderstanding has arisen in regard to the engraving and publication of Audubon's earlier plates owing to the complex relations which existed between Lizars, the two Havells of the same name, and the naturalist himself; this involved the reissue of the first two numbers of the work, and a confusing series of legends upon the plates themselves, occasioned partly by a division of labor between father and son, and by the death of Robert Havell, Senior, in 1832. The errors into which some commentators have fallen, however, are due to their examination of but one set of plates. The account which follows is based upon a collation of complete copies at the British Museum, the Radcliffe Library, Oxford, the Jardin des Plantes, Paris, and the Boston Society of Natural History, and of numerous scattered plates. Lizars engraved the first ten plates only of the large folio, but before the summer of 1827 a considerable number of these early impressions had been distributed. The Havells, as we have seen, started the work anew, and Robert, the younger, retouched the greater part of Lizars' plates, so that their reissue in London constitutes for the bibliophile a second, and in some cases a third, edition. Moreover, the plates which were eventually executed by the younger Havell, to the number of 425, were repeatedly printed from to meet the requirements of new subscribers; on such occasions errors were corrected, minor changes in the artist's or engraver's name introduced, and the nomenclature of the birds and plants more or less completely revised. Frequently the Whatman water-marks, or, indirectly, Audubon's titles, postdate the year of publication as printed on the plate itself. Conflicting legends, particularly on the earlier plates, which have often puzzled collectors, are mainly due to one or another of the conditions named. Nearly every plate underwent alterations of some sort, but the various legends show conclusively whether the print belongs to a first or a subsequent impression. In the British Museum copy, the younger Havell's first independent legend appears on Plate lxxvi (Virginia Partridge), as "Engraved, Printed, & Coloured by R. Havell Junr. 1830." The word "London" was later added, but was eventually discarded. After the senior Havell's death in 1832, the son naturally dropped the suffix from his own name; thereafter his brief designation of name and date became gradually stereotyped. It should be noticed, however, that when Robert Havell needed to reprint from plates which were executed before his father's death, he would frequently remove only the "Junior," and let the original date stand, so that legends like the following are not uncommon: "Engraved, Printed, & Coloured by R. Havell, —— London—1831"; to avoid the lacuna, designation of place and date were, at times, erased also. The naturalist's name underwent a different evolution on the plates, but after 1830, the date of his election to membership in the Royal Society, his designation gradually settled into the phrase: "Drawn from nature by J.J. Audubon, F.L.S. F.R.S." (as in Plate lxxxi, 1830); accordingly, all plates which bear these titles, but an earlier date, are second or later editions. The previous hints, with examples to be given presently, will enable collectors to determine whether a given plate is a first or subsequent impression.

Lizars' first edition of plates, Numbers i to x, bore no dates, and, so far as known, the first date of the entire series was "1828," which was added to Plate 31 (the White-headed Eagle), but was erased from later issues. When Robert Havell, Junior, retouched Lizar's engraving of the Turkey Hen (No. II, Plate vi), he added the date "1829," but in a third or later edition the name was changed and the date removed. This same date appears also on the retouched Plate ii, of the Yellow-billed Cuckoo, and on that of the Purple Grackle or Crow Blackbird (Plate vii). A curious error crept into the first impressions of the former plate, which was mislabeled "Black-billed Cuckoo," a bird then recognized as quite distinct.[160] Plates xxxi to lxxv (1828-29) were all dated in the first issue, and bore the names of both Havells; the legends are: "Engraved, Printed & Coloured by R. Havell & Son, London, 1828," and "Engraved by Robt. Havell, Junr. Printed & Coloured by R. Havell Senr. London, 1828," or "1829" (British Museum copy), but when later printed by Robert, the younger, the dates were erased. All subsequent dating of the plates was somewhat irregular until 1834 (Plate ccii), but from that point to the end of the series, the year of issue was consistently added to each plate. Ornithologists are specially interested in the time of publication, since forty-seven new specific names occur on Audubon's large plates, and should date from them and not from the letterpress which followed.

To illustrate what has been said of successive editions of Audubon's plates, we shall give the legends of two or three of the most famous, taken from copies in the British Museum and Boston Society of Natural History libraries or from detached plates obtained in London, in 1903:

Plate i (1st edit., Lizars; Brit. Mus.).—"Great American Cock Male—Vulgo (Wild Turkey) Meleagris Gallopavo. Drawn by J. J. Audubon, M. W. S. Engraved by W. H. Lizars Edinr."

Plate i (2nd or later edit., Havell; Boston Soc. Nat. Hist.).—"Wild Turkey. Meleagris Gallopavo. Linn. Male American Cane. Miegia macrosperma. Drawn from nature by J. J. Audubon F.R.S., F.L.S. Engraved by W. H. Lizars Edinr. Retouched by R. Havell Junr."

Plate vi (1st edit., Lizars; Brit. Mus.).—"Great American Hen & Young, Vulgo, Female Wild Turkey—Meleagris Gallopavo. Drawn from Nature by John J. Audubon F.R.S.E. M.W.S. Engraved by W. H. Lizars Edinr."

Plate vi (2nd or later edit., Havell; detached plate).—The same with the exception of "F.L.S.," added to Audubon's name, and "Retouched by R. Havell. Junr. London, 1829."

Plate vi (3rd or later edit., Havell; Bost. Soc. Nat. Hist.).—"Wild Turkey, Meleagris Gallopavo. Linn. Female and Young." (Artist's name apparently cut off by binder.) "Engraved by W. H. Lizars. Retouched by R. Havell. Junr."

Plate 31. (1st edit., Havell. Brit. Mus.).—"White-headed Eagle, male. Falco Leucocephalus. Fish Fulgo—Yellow mud Cat. Drawn from Nature & Published by John J. Audubon, F.R.S.E., F.L.S., M.W.S. Engraved, Printed & Coloured by R. Havell & Son, London, 1828."

Plate xxxi (2nd or later edit., Havell; Bost. Soc. Nat. Hist.).—"White-headed Eagle, Falco Leucocephalus. Linn. Male. Yellow Cat-fish. Drawn from Nature and Published by John J. Audubon. F.R.S. F.L.S. Engraved, Printed & Coloured, by R. Havell."

Plates which were wholly the work of Lizars have naturally become extremely rare; they were evidently disregarded by Audubon when he recorded on July 2, 1827, that he had given Mr. Children a proof of his first number, which he called "the first in existence," and declared that the two guineas then received was the first money that had been returned to his hands. Lizars' initial number had actually been finished in the previous winter, and a copy of this is recorded as having been given to the daughter of Sir Walter Scott on the 9th of March, 1827.

When Audubon had finally closed all his business affairs in Edinburgh and London, late in the summer of 1839, he returned to America, with the remaining members of his family, and settled in New York, where he purchased a house at Number 84 White Street, then in the uptown district.

An anonymous writer in the London _Athenæum_[161] in giving a final review of Audubon's labors in 1839, paid this interesting tribute:

It seems but as yesterday that we were walking about with a transatlantic stranger, picturesque enough in his appearance and garb, to arrest the eye of every passing gazer; a tall stalwart man, with hair sufficiently long to qualify him to serve as a model to Gray's "Bard," and trousers ample almost as petticoats of "good Harmony cloth," so absorbed in the enthusiastic prosecution of his gigantic plan—a life's labour—as to be heedless of the singularity of those meteoric locks, and those liberal nether garments. Some dozen of years, however, have elapsed since that day; the American Woodsman's hair—long since cut short—has grown white; his magnificent undertaking is completed, and he is now on the point of quitting England, to settle himself for the remainder of his days whether by the side of a bayou, in some forest clearing, or as an inhabitant of one of the American cities which have learned to know his value, report saith not.

We shake hands with the author, tendering him our hearty congratulations on the completion of a task almost as arduous as has ever been proposed to a literary man....

The confidential simplicity of Mr. Audubon's own prefaces would make yet more personal leave-takings and farewells, on the critic's part, natural and graceful,—but it must suffice to say, that few have quitted England, carrying with them a larger portion of honest regard and sincere good wishes.

Possibly it was the same writer who gave this striking picture of Audubon in the pages of the same journal, thirty years later:[162]

We can remember when his portfolio excited delight in Edinburgh, London, and Paris, rivalling in smaller circles a new Waverley novel. The man also was not a man to be seen and forgotten, or passed on the pavement without glances of surprise and scrutiny. The tall and somewhat stooping form, the clothes not made by a West-end but by a Far West tailor, the steady, rapid, springing step, the long hair, the aquiline features, and the glowing angry eyes,—the expression of a handsome man conscious of ceasing to be young, and an air and manner which told you that whoever you might be he was John Audubon, will never be forgotten by anyone who knew or saw him.

We will add to this the musings of an anonymous American writer[163] in the _North American Review_ for the following year (1840):

It must have been with mingled and varied feelings that Audubon published his concluding volume. He was sure then that he had raised an imperishable monument to commemorate his own renown. All anxieties and fears which overshadowed his work in its beginning had passed away. The prophecies of kind but overprudent friends, who did not understand his self-sustaining energy, had proved untrue; the malicious hope of his enemies, for even the gentle lover of nature has enemies,—had been disappointed; he had secured a commanding place in the respect and gratitude of men; he had secured a treasure of rich and glowing recollections, to warm his own heart in his declining years, and to kindle enthusiasm in his children's children....

On the other hand he had lost an employment which for years had kept all the powers of body and mind in healthy though intense exertion; whatever else he might do, the great work of his intellectual life was finished.... His trumpet of victory at the result must have given an uncertain sound, partly exulting in his success, and partly lamenting that his great work was finished.

It has often been asked, how many complete sets of Audubon's folio of _The Birds of America_ were distributed, and how many are in existence today. No definite answer can be given to either question. His final lists, appended to the last volume of his "Biographies" in 1839, and reproduced in Appendix III to the present work, gave the number of standing names as 161 (calling for 166 copies), of which 79 (with 84 copies) pertained to Europe, and 82 were American; inasmuch as 118 subscribers had dropped off, with incompleted sets on their hands, this brought the total number of original patrons at that time to 279, and the number of copies which had been originally ordered to 284. On the other hand, the following advertisement, evidently from the hand of Audubon himself, appeared in _The Athenæum_, under date of "London, November 1, 1837," and was reprinted in America a few weeks later:[164]

The number of perfect copies at present subscribed for does not exceed 190, of which upwards of 80 are subscribed for in America; and the expense of getting them up is so great, that not more than ten or fifteen copies, above the number subscribed for, will be prepared.

The Establishment necessary for its publication will be broken up when the last Number is coloured; and any application for the Work must be made to the Author, 4, Wimpole—street, London; or Mr. R. Havell, Engraver, 77 Oxford—street, before the first of May next, as after that time no subscription can be received.

Assuming that Audubon's final published lists, calling for 166 copies, were correct, and that ten additional sets were prepared, this would bring the total original number known to have been complete to 176, which agrees with an estimate attributed to Victor Audubon, who once expressed the belief that "about 175 copies" were in existence, of which about 80 were in America.[165] It is probable, however, that of the 118 persons who allowed their subscriptions to lapse, a number completed their sets from the residual stock, which must have been great, though the later plates would be the hardest to obtain; in this event the number of perfect sets of Audubon's _Birds_ probably never exceeded 190 or 200.

The proprietor of a well known Philadelphia bookshop[166] has stated that during his experience as an antiquary, he has had personal knowledge of forty or fifty copies of the folio edition of Audubon's _Birds_ in America, and he thought it probable that a single New England print dealer, in the course of twenty years, had broken up thirty or forty volumes for the purpose of selling the plates. This is not surprising, since from the sale of a single volume upwards of $1,500 might be realized in this way, but no reputable dealer would now think of breaking up an unimpaired set.

Mr. Ruthven Deane, who has compiled a careful record of copies of _The Birds of America_ known to exist in the United States, recorded in 1908 that he had ascertained the resting-place of seventy-five sets which, with few exceptions, were complete and in good condition. "A set in the library of the Mechanics-Mercantile Institute, San Francisco, California, which had been there for some thirty years, and another set in the San Francisco Art Association, presented in 1894 by Mr. Edward F. Searles, Methuen, Massachusetts, were both destroyed by the disastrous earthquake and fire which visited that city April 18, 1906."[167]

Audubon's own copy of his _Birds_, the plates of which were naturally selected with the greatest care, was sold by Mrs. Audubon after the death of her last surviving son, in 1862, to John T. Johnson, of New York, for $1,200; the subsequent history of these volumes has not been traced. Havell brought with him to America a copy, every plate of which is said to have been selected by himself, and it is undoubtedly one of the finest sets in existence. It passed from the family's possession to the hands of the publishers and booksellers, Messrs. C. S. Francis & Company, of 554 Broadway, New York, who in 1856 had charge of the sale of all of Audubon's works,[168] and was later purchased by Dr. W. Gurdon Russell, of Hartford, Connecticut, who presented it to Trinity College, July 10, 1900.[169]

After recording the facts of the case, so far as they have been ascertained, the following extract from the minutes of a meeting of the New York Historical Society, held October 3, 1865, will be read with interest:[170]

The Librarian presented the following copy of a manuscript memorandum preserved in the first volume of Audubon's Ornithological Biography, formerly belonging to the late J. Prescott Hall,[171] and now in possession of David G. Francis, Esq.:

"This work is presented to J. Prescott Hall by his poor Friend and sincerely attached servant

JOHN J. AUDUBON"

"New York April 4, 1844."

"Mr Audubon told me in the year 184— that he did not sell more than 40 copies of his great work in England, Ireland, Scotland, and France, of which Louis Phillippe took 10.

"The following received their copies but never paid for them: George IV., Dutchess of Clarence, Marquis of Londonderry, Princess of Hesse Homburg.

"An Irish lord whose name he would not give, took two copies and paid for neither. Rothschild paid for his copy, but with great reluctance.

"He further said that he sold 75 copies in America, 26 in New York and 24 in Boston; that the work cost him £27,000 and that he lost $25,000 by it.

"He said that Louis Phillippe offered to subscribe for 100 copies if he would publish the work in Paris. This he found could not be done, as it would have required 40 years to finish it as things were then in Paris. Of this conversation I made a memorandum at the time which I read over to Mr. Audubon and he pronounced it correct.

"J. PRESCOTT HALL."

As regards the subscription of Rothschild the following account of his interview with the famous banker has been recorded by Audubon himself.[172] The naturalist, it appears, received a letter to Baron Rothschild from the American banking-house of Prime, Ward & King, and presented it in the summer of 1834. The banker was not in when Audubon and his son, Victor, called upon him, but "soon a corpulent man appeared, hitching up his trousers, and a face red with the exertion of walking, and without noticing any one present, dropped his fat body into a comfortable chair, as if caring for no one else in this wide world but himself." When Audubon presented his credentials, the banker asked: "Is this a letter of business, or is it a mere letter of introduction?'" As Audubon had not read the letter, he was obliged to answer rather awkwardly that he could not tell. "The banker then opened the letter, read it with the manner of one who was looking only at the temporal side of things, and after reading it said, 'This is only a letter of introduction, and I expect from its contents that you are the publisher of some book or other and need my subscription.'" Audubon continues:

Had a man the size of a mountain spoken to me in that arrogant style in America I should have indignantly resented it; but where I then was it seemed best to swallow and digest it as well as I could. So in reply ... I said I should be _honored_ by his subscription to the "Birds of America." "Sir," he said, "I never sign my name to any subscription list, but you may send in your work and I will pay for a copy of it. Gentlemen, I am busy, I wish you good morning." We were busy men, too, and so bowing respectfully, we retired, pretty well satisfied with the small slice of his opulence which our labor was likely to obtain.

A few days afterwards I sent the first volume of my work half bound, and all the numbers besides, then published. On seeing them we were told that he ordered the bearer to take them to his house, which was done directly. Number after number was sent and delivered to the Baron, and after eight or ten months my son made out his account and sent it by Mr. Havell, my engraver, to his banking-house. The Baron looked at it with amazement, and cried out, "What, a hundred pounds for birds! Why, sir, I will give you five pounds, and not a farthing more!" Representations were made to him of the magnificence and expense of the work, and how pleased his Baroness and wealthy children would be to have a copy; but the great financier was unrelenting. The copy of the work was actually sent back to Mr. Havell's shop, and as I found that instituting legal proceedings against him would cost more than it would come to, I kept the work, and afterwards sold it to a man with less money but a nobler heart. What a distance there is between two such men as Baron Rothschild of London and the merchant of Savannah!