CHAPTER XXXV

FINAL WORK DAYS

Painting the _Quadrupeds_—Assistance of Bachman and Audubon's sons—Copper plates of the _Birds_ go through the fire in New York—Audubon a spectator at the ruins—Bachman's ultimatum—Success of the illustrations of the _Quadrupeds_—Bachman's letterpress—Recommendation of Baird—John W. Audubon in London—Bachman's assistants—His life and labors—Decline of Audubon's powers—Dr. Brewer's visit—Audubon's last letters—His death at "Minnie's Land."

After 1844 Audubon's remaining energies were devoted exclusively to his work on the _Quadrupeds_, in which it is necessary to discriminate between the large folio of illustrations, which began to appear, in parts, as early as 1842 and which was completed in 1846; the text, of which he lived to see but one volume finished; and lastly, the first and only composite edition of both text and plates, which was published by Victor Audubon in 1854.[199] This series of works, as already noticed, was produced in collaboration with the Reverend John Bachman, of Charleston, South Carolina; Bachman assumed entire responsibility for the text, but owing to his comparative isolation from large libraries, and to the demands of professional duties, he depended on the Audubons to supply him with specimens and books.

Honest John Bachman, whose motto was, "Nature, Truth, and no Humbug," was suffering sadly, he said, from lack of tools, when he wrote to Victor Audubon in November, 1844:[200]

The books are to be found in New York and Philadelphia, but are expensive. I would not have you buy them; but could you not copy for me such articles as we need?

I enclose my plan. I wish always, a month before the time, that you would give me notice of the species you intend to put into the hands of the engraver, and send me, at the same time, the specimen. I cannot describe without it; I will guess at nothing.

I find the labor greater than I expected, and fear that I may break down and, therefore, cry in time, "Help me Cassius or I sink!" Writing descriptions is slow and fatiguing work. I cannot, in the careful manner that I am doing them write more than three in a week. My son-in-law, Haskell, has copied forty-two closely written pages for me. I cannot shorten the articles, many of them I ought rather to lengthen. With patience and the help of all, I hope, however, to get on—the work may be lighter as we proceed.

The following is my daily practice: I am up at 4 A. M., and work till breakfast, and recently, when parochial duties would permit, have kept on until 3 P. M.

The brush of my old friend, Audubon, is a truth-teller. I regard his drawings as the best in the world. Let us be very careful to correct any errors of description that have crept in on the plates—I see a few in the lettering—they can be corrected in the letter-press; and let us be so cautious as to have nothing in the future to correct. There is but one principle on which a just man can act; that is, always to seek the truth and to abide by it.

Bachman wrote again on the 29th of that month:

About the little mouse—I cannot see a needle in a haystack; or give it a name without knowing what it is. Friend, descriptions cannot be written, as a man works at making Jews-harps—so many a dozen in a given time. My credit, as well as your father's, is so deeply concerned, that _I will not publish a day before I am ready_....

I have such confidence in you, that I believe that you will do all that I wish. In doing this, however, you will have your hands full. Mine are so—God knows! Will not my old friend, Audubon, wake up, and work as he used to do, when we banged at the Herons and the fresh water Marsh-hens?

Bachman explained that he was the "schoolmaster," and when the boys were a little lazy, he would have to apply the whip.

In March, 1844, Spencer Baird sent Audubon a live Pennant's Marten or Fisher, a rather rare animal even at that time, and now all but extinct. Said Baird:[201]

It was found in company with an older one, in Peter's mountain, six miles above Harrisburg about five weeks ago. After a most desperate resistance the old one was killed, having beaten off a large pack of dogs, to whose assistance the hunters were obliged to run. This individual ran up a tree, and being stoned by the men, jumped off to a distance of forty feet! when being a little stunned by the leap they ran up quickly and threw their coats over it, and then secured it. The old one measured three feet and a half from nose to end of tail, and was about one third larger than this.... It seems to be in very good health, and is without exception the most unmitigatedly savage beast I ever saw. The Royal Bengal Tiger, or the Laughing Hyena are neither of them circumstances to it.

Audubon used this marten as the model for his illustration of the species (shown in natural size, Plate xli of the _Quadrupeds_); in noticing its habits later, he said:[202]

We kept this individual alive for some days, feeding it on raw meat, pieces of chicken, and now and then a bird. It was voracious, and very spiteful, growling, snarling and spitting when approached, but did not appear to suffer much uneasiness from being held in captivity, as, like many other predacious quadrupeds it grew fat, being better supplied with food than when it had been obliged to cater for itself in the woods.

Baird also tried to secure for Audubon the "far-famed catamount" alive, which, from stories related by hunters, he thought might be different from the young of the panther or puma, and also a specimen of the true black fox in the flesh; though unsuccessful in either quest, his efficient aid was greatly appreciated by his friend. In February, 1845, Baird paid a visit to the Audubons at their Hudson River home, where he was warmly received; as his biographer relates,[203] upon leaving he was invited to select any duplicate bird skins he desired from the naturalist's collection, then at John G. Bell's taxidermist shop in New York; he accepted this generous offer, and chose about forty specimens.

It is evident that some trouble-maker had disturbed the serenity of John Bachman's mind when the following interesting letter was written by Audubon to balm the feelings of his old friend. It is evident that Audubon at this time expected to collaborate in the letterpress of their work, but that plan, according to Bachman's own statement, was never carried out:

_Audubon to John Bachman_

[MINNIE'S LAND] _Jan. 8, 1845_.

MY DEAR FRIEND

Never have I been so much astonished as I have been at reading your letter to Victor, and to which I feel myself bound to answer at once.

In the first place you must have been most unmercifully misled by the "mutual friend" of whom you speak, when saying that through that individual _you did_ understand that I never used your name as a coadjutor in the work, which is now publishing on the Quadrupeds of North America under the names of both I and you—Why you should have taken such a report or saying as truth is actually beyond my most remote thought, and again, why did you not long ago, write to me at once on this mysterious subject.

But to put an end to all this stuff, let me assure you that nothing of the kind has ever taken place, and this I could well prove by upwards of one hundred of our last subscribers, all of whom would be ready to testify that before receiving their names on my list, I always mentioned your name to each of them, and many that know you were glad that I had so good and so learned a man at my elbow—I should amazingly be glad to know who the "mutual friend" is, as I think I could give him a lesson on propriety, being a mutual friend, that would serve that kind gentleman for the residue of his life—But enough of this, and all that I am sorry for is that you should not have answered "my short letters," in some of which I particularly requested you to forward me a fine black bear and one or two wolves, by which you would have saved me fully fifty dollars as I have had to pay sixty dollars for two of these vile rascals, and two hundred dollars for a pair of Elks besides paying the highest of prices to draw other animals—

Now my friend I wish you would set in real earnest, and whenever it is convenient to you in preparing the letter-press for our work. I have made a beginning and have written Ten articles already in — days, to wit all the plates of No 1, and the first of No 2 which are as follows—

Lynx Rufus—Wild-Cat Arctomys monax—Maryland Marmot Lepus Townsendii Neotoma Floridana Sciurus Richardsonii Canis (Vulpes) fulvus The Beaver The history of the Bison 28 pages and Fiber Zybethicus (muskrat) 12 pages, Tamias quadrivittatus

This will shew you that I have not been very Idle since I began and I should like to know from you, whether you would like to see what I have said of these, as if you do, I will have them copied as soon as I receive your letter, and will forward the whole, and the additional written in the interim, at the same time. I have a beautiful drawing of a fine male moose, that of the Elk is already engraved, and next week we will forward to the engraver no less than five or six drawings of the best quality. by the way I am sorry that you should look upon the Texan Skunk as a bad figure. The animal is an ungraceful one in its Singular Colouring, but it is nevertheless quite true to nature, with all its specific characters to a _T_.

Victor wrote to you that I was anxious to have your opinion about the Title page and I hope you will send me your ideas forthwith on that subject. I send you now by mail a long article about our work which I conceive and hope will prove to you that the "mutual friend" knew but very little of my feelings or actions or sayings as regards you—

I really & most truly regret that you should have been put out, and mis-led about this our work by a third party, who must to say the least of it [have] abused your credulity to the very extreme.

However, the sooner forgotten, the sooner mended. it is with deeply felt regret from every one of my Family that we read the account in your letter of the condition of your dear wife, but hope that she will accompany you early next spring to visit our humble but comfortable residence. Now do Come! Present our joint regards to every one of your family, and believe me when I say that none will ever feel more delighted than I, to hear of the welfare of the beautiful "Rabbit"—

And now that I am exceedingly fatigued, having been writing for upwards of seven hours, I will wish you good night & all the blessings that God may grant to [the] good man and to every member of his family—Do not forget me near your Sweet heart.

Your ever faithfully attached & Sincere friend

J. J. A.

In July, 1845, a destructive fire devastated a large section of the city of New York, including the warehouse in which the copperplates of Audubon's _Birds_ were stored; many believed that the plates had been ruined, and one of these was the writer who after witnessing the event gave the following dramatic account:[204]

But who had lost most of all that pale crowd that hung like ghosts around the scene, and gazed with watery eyes, and blue compressed lips, over the ruin? An erect old man, with long white hair, glanced his strong bright eye as coldly over the glowing, smoking desolation, as an eagle would, who watched the sunrise chasing mists up from the valley. J. J. Audubon looks over the grave of the labor of forty years!

_The Plates of the Birds of America_ are buried beneath those smoldering piles! Ye money changers dare not break the stillness with a sob, though the last cent of your sordid hoards be gone! ... go away! Ye have lost nothing!... Yet that dauntless old man is not dismayed; he and Fate knew each other's faces in battle long ago. Let those who know how to love and venerate such labors—to sympathize with such grievous calamities, exhibit it in their prompt patronage of the new work now issuing—The Quadrupeds of America—and in the care which shall be taken to preserve the volumes of the Plates of the Birds, now in existence—the value of which will be five-fold increased!

When Baird heard the untoward news, he wrote from Carlisle, August 4, 1845: "It is with sincerest regret that I see by the papers that your copper plates were injured or perhaps ruined by the fire which occurred a few weeks ago. Various reports are circulated respecting your loss, and among so many contradictory ones it is difficult to get at the truth of the case. Might I ask you to let me know the truth of the matter." In a postscript to this letter he added: "I forgot to say that I have been elected professor of Natural History in Dickinson College. The situation is entirely nominal, nothing to do & no salary whatever." Audubon replied promptly on the 7th of August:[205] "You have been too well-informed about the plates of our large work. They have indeed passed through the great fire of the 19 ul°; but we are now engaged in trying to restore them to their wonted former existence; although a few of them will have to be reingraved for use, if ever that work is republished in its original size at all."

Bachman, who paid a long visit to the Audubons in the late summer or early autumn of 1845, said that while he was at "Minnie's Land," Audubon painted "Le Conte's Pine Mouse" with his usual facility and skill, but he detected a change in his mental powers. For a long time Bachman had complained of the want of books, which the younger Audubons failed to supply, and of lack of specimens, which no doubt their father wished to retain for use in his own studies, until at length his patience was gone and he tried another form of appeal. The following letter[206] to their mutual friend, Edward Harris, shows that he was then determined to throw up the responsibility which had been assumed in the _Quadrupeds_ unless what he regarded as "reasonable requests" were complied with forthwith:

_John Bachman to Edward Harris_

CHARLESTON, _Decem. 24_, 1845.

Friend Harris, you can be of service to me, to the Audubons & the cause of science. I will tell you how.

I find the Audubons are not aware of what is wanted in the publication of the Quadrupeds. All they care about is to get out a No. of engravings in two months. They have not sent me one single book out of a list of 100 I gave them and only 6 lines copied from a book after having written for them for 4 years. When he published his birds he collected hundreds of thousands of specimens. In his Quadrupeds—tell it not in Gath—He never collected or sent me one skin from New York to Louisiana along the whole of the Atlantic States. Now he is clamorous for the letter press—on many of the Quadrupeds he has not sent me one line & and on others he has omitted even the geographical range—I know nothing of what he did in the West having never received his journal & not twenty lines on the subject. I am to write a book without the information he promised to give—without books of reference & above all what is a sine qua non to me without specimens. In the meantime my name is attached to the book, and the public look to us to settle our American species, and alas I have not the materials to do so.

Now this you can do for me. I am willing to write every description and every line of the book. I do it without fee or reward. But—1. Books of reference or copies of them he must obtain. 2. He must publish no species without my approbation. He has made some sad mistakes already. 3. He must procure such information as I shall write for. 4. _He must send some person—say when John returns—to make a tour for collecting specimens through the states of the west especially._ I find the smaller Rodentia differing every 600 miles. Richardson's species differ from those of New York—ours are once more different from those of N. Y. Leib [?] found a number of new species in Illinois. The New Orleans squirrels differ from ours—California once more new. Now on this last particular—the necessity of giving me specimens to describe from I wish you to speak to Audubon. I cannot consent to impose on the public. I cannot settle the species without specimens. [Tell] him what I have written and [of what I have] complained. Show him this letter if you should [think] it will accomplish the end. I shall soon have the volume finished as well as I am able from the scanty materials with which I am furnished. Then they will be clamorous for the second volume. Now I do not like to make any threats, but if my reasonable requests are not complied with I have made up my mind not to write another line at the end of the first volume. I have not made up my mind hastily. It is the result of four years remonstrance, mortification, and disappointment. Once and for nearly a year I gave up the matter in hopeless despair. I again resumed it on the solemn promise of Victor to do all I wished. Three months have since gone round and not one book sent—only ten lines copied—and a constant clamor for the letter press. But I am called off.

If Audubon was remiss in supplying the necessary materials, it is possible that Bachman, in turn, may have failed to appreciate the load which his friend's shoulders had carried for the five years then past. To Bachman specimens and books were, of course, absolutely essential, but Audubon needed them also, as well as subscribers and the large sums of money necessary to keep his great enterprises in orderly movement. At all events, Bachman's ultimatum brought immediate results, and it might not be wide of the mark to affirm that to the tactful Harris we virtually owe the completion of that admirable work, _The Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America_. It should be noticed that at the time the complaining letter was sent, John W. Audubon was in Texas, engaged in making collections, though, as it proved, with little success; Victor searched the country for the needed books, and his father's Missouri River journal was despatched to Charleston, without delay.

On New Year's Day, 1846, Bachman wrote to his friend:

As I do not like to disappoint you in anything, I send you one of the articles. It is about a fair sample of the whole.... I try to incorporate as much as I can of your own, but, in most cases, your notes have come too late.

You see how plain Haskell writes: I should think that by this time, he has copied three hundred pages as correctly as the inclosed.

In his letter of March 6 he said:

For the last four nights, I have been reading your journal. I am much interested, though I find less about the quadrupeds than I expected. The narratives are particularly spirited, and often instructive, as well as amusing. All that you write on the spot, I can depend on, but I never trust to the memory of others, any more than to my own....

To return to your Journal. I am afraid that the shadows of the Elk, Buffalo, and Bighorn hid the little Marmots, Squirrels and Jumping Mice. I wish you had engaged some of the hunters to set traps. I should like to get the Rabbit that led you so weary a chase. Write to C.[207] and find out some way of getting—not his princess brain-eating, horse-straddling squaw, but what is better than such a specimen from the Blackfoot country—1st. The Skunk; 2nd, Hares, in Winter colors; and 3rd, the Rabbit that you chased. In your Journal your descriptions of Buffalo hunts are first rate. I don't like my article on the "Beaver"; I shall have to write it over again. If I could only borrow _Temminck's_ large work. Every library here is open to me, and you would be astonished to see the number of books in my own library; but the scientific works of close comparison are not among them. I had written letter after letter, but might have saved ten dollars postage.

Audubon wrote to Baird on February 2, 1846, to remind him of the Catamount, which was thought not to be "the Cougar," and of the Black Fox: "for the latter," he said, "I do give you my word that I would willingly pay you Twenty Dollars by a draft upon us at Sight." In another letter from "Minnie's Land, N. Y.," of March 14, he said:[208]

Could you procure a black and a Silver Fox for us, we will be willing to give a good price for either in the flesh, and preserved in common New England Rum, and forwarded by express to 78 John St, N.Y.

We expect to see John at home in about Six or Seven weeks. He has made a very poor Journey of this one, and will have to go to Europe this summer, I have no doubt.

Concerning his son's journey to Texas, Audubon had written Spencer Baird, September 30, 1845:[209]

My son John will leave this for the West and South-West, as far as the confines of Texas, about the last of next month, and intends being absent until the first of March. Would you like to go with him provided you can pay your own expenses? He will take one of our Servant men along to help him in the procuring of Quadrupeds and Birds, of which he hopes to procure some, if not a good number of new Species.

As Baird gave no reply, Audubon sat down on Christmas Day, 1845, and wrote again to his young friend:[210]

I hope and trust that you were not offended at my letter, when I wrote you on the Subject of accompanying our son John to Texas where he is now I hope safe and sound, and I believe at Corpus Christi....

... I have at last received a fine Red Fox from our Friend Ed. Harris, who although he did not kill it, obtained the Cunning Animal very shortly after its death. I have drawn it to the size of life, and I think made a good figure of it.

I have been drawing pretty constantly these last past weeks and have finished 6 plates for the Engravers.... We are all hard at Work preparing the letterpress for the 1st Vol. of the Quadrupeds, a copy of which I hope to send to you about the beginning of April.

Audubon's prediction in regard to his son was correct, and after John's return from Texas, in April, 1846, he started for England on June 10, with his wife and family; he remained in Europe until May, 1847, engaged, as his father said, "in making figures of those arctic animals, of which accessible specimens exist only in the museums of that quarter of the globe."

The Audubons, as we have seen, now tried to keep John Bachman better supplied, and in the spring of 1846 sent him several boxes of skins, with the urgent request that all which pertained to animals that had not been figured be returned as soon as possible. On March 13 Victor wrote that Temminck's monograph could not be found in all America, not in Boston, or Philadelphia, but that a copy would be ordered from Europe at once. In those days Charleston was farther removed in time from New York than California is now from Boston; two weeks was required for a letter of one naturalist to reach the other, and the difficulties of coöperation were correspondingly great. On May 31 Audubon acknowledged the return of the skins, but said: "Judge of my astonishment, when I could not find a single one of the small animals, Shrews, and Scalops argentatus, the latter of which I am anxious to draw at once."

The summer and autumn of 1846 bore heavily on John Bachman, subject as he then was to a "thousand calls and interruptions," and "bowed down, and almost distracted, with anxieties and grief."[211] But the first volume of the letterpress which had given him so much trouble was finished in November, and was published by Audubon at the close of this year. It was at once recognized as a standard and authoritative work, which was then without a competitor in America, and as Louis Agassiz affirmed, without an equal in Europe. At the time of its issue the twentieth number of the folio illustrations was nearly ready; the text itself had 271 subscribers, calling for 281 copies,[212] though only the eastern cities had then been canvassed.

Early in 1846 Baird wrote to Audubon:[213] "I have made drawings of the sculls of our quadrupeds which are at your service if you want them. They are Mink, Wild Cat, Ground Hog, _Lepus Sylvaticus_, _Neotoma Floridana_ and others. I have got a Camera Lucida now and intend trying to draw with it. Anything I can do for you in this way will be cheerfully done." When he wrote again, towards the close of this year, some important events had happened, as shown by this letter:

_Spencer Fullerton Baird to Audubon_

CARLISLE _Nov. 4, 1846_.

DEAR MR. AUDUBON

I have been intending to write for a long time, to find out how you all are at Minnie's Landing, and how yourself is particularly, but have put it off from time to time for various reasons. I can do so no longer, and must beg you to let me know these particulars.

Since my last visit to you, two pretty important events have happened to me. The first was getting married, the second, settling down steadily in my Professional chair.[214] My wife is the only daughter of Col. Churchill Inspector Gen. of the Army, now with Gen. Wool in Mexico. She suits me exactly, being as fond of birds & snakes & fishes etc. as myself. I have even given her a lesson or two in taxidermy.

My duties as professor consist in teaching Animal Physiology, Natural Theology & Mathematics. My salary is small $400 but I hope will be larger hereafter. I have to work hard, but that is good for me.

Please let me know how the quadrupeds get along. Is the first vol. published? How does John get along in England? What has become of his Texas birds?

Please to tell me the address of your friend Ayres. I have been collecting fishes for some weeks, and wish to correspond & exchange with him on this subject. I can send him a good many species.

Please give my love to all your kind family. My wife (to whom two years ago I gave a picture of yourself, as the most acceptable present) sends hers also, and desires exceedingly to see one to whom her husband owes so many obligations of every kind. Believe to be as ever

Yours most affectionately

SPENCER F. BAIRD.

Audubon's immediate reply was as follows:[215]

_Audubon to Spencer Fullerton Baird_

MINNIESLAND. _Nov. 8th, 1846._

MY DEAR FRIEND,

We were very happy to hear of your Success in obtaining a Professorship. I wish you had been more minute as to the amount of your Salary as I consider 400$ as a very small sum. If you have not a house, fuel, and furniture, &c &c &c to compensate for so small a sum, and having so much to perform for it. We are all glad that you have a good helpmate in the shape of a wife, and we would be very glad to have you under our roof, even now; but as the winter is now fast approaching we hope to see you certainly some time next spring, or during the summer, as you know that then our place is worthy to reside at. The fishing is then Capital. The residence of our Friend, W. O. Ayers, is on Long Island, and I think that a letter addressed to him at Sag-Harbor, will be sure to be received by that good Friend of ours.

He will be glad to receive the collection of fishes which you have procured for him, and I know will be most happy to exchange for other fishes or subjects if you should desire any at his hands. Please to give your Dear Lady our best love, and congratulations on her having such a capitally perfect husband. We are all well at present. I have not done anything with the Birds which, indeed, my son Victor has sent to the Academy of Philadelphia. I suppose I need not look any more for a Black Fox in the flesh from you during the next winter.

Consider me always my Dear Friend,

Your most sincerely attached,

JOHN J. AUDUBON.

Should you procure a black fox, be sure to forward him uncut to our office New York 78 John Street. Adieu, and God bless both you and your Dear Wife.

This is a mistake, I brought them back, V. G. A.

* * * * *

The letter press will be ready in a few days. I will forward a Copy to you to Philada. from whence you can no doubt easily get it. I will join my Father, dear Mr. Baird, in congratulations, and in sincere wishes for your happiness & welfare.

Yours faithfully,

V. G. AUDUBON.

Victor Audubon's gift of the volume was acknowledged by Baird on January 19, 1847, when he said:

I have been trying for some time past to find time for writing and thanking you for the copy of the Viviparous text. Never had mortal man such a feast as I in turning over the pages and reading the interesting and copious accounts of the habits of animals, many of which were unknown to me beyond the name. I was exceedingly gratified by the kind terms I found myself mentioned throughout the book, more so than I deserve. Be assured that no effort of mine however humble shall be spared to assist in the perfecting a labor so stupendous and important as that in which you are engaged. Would that I could be of more substantial aid by sending half a dozen subscribers, I may do so yet, who knows.

There was soon another matter of vital importance which Baird wished to announce to his friend, and, on February 8, he wrote Audubon:

Very much to my astonishment I received last Saturday a letter from Mr. Dana saying that he had written to Dr. Pickering that I would make a good curator of the Smithsonian institute, and advising me if I wished the place to write immediately to Prof. Henry and enclose my credentials. Now I would like the situation amazingly and write to ask you to make out a flaming recommendation for the place & send me as soon as possible. Say what you please about qualification &c. I would be obliged to you for the exertion of any personal influence you may have on the board of Regents. When there I would hope to be materially useful to you in your labors.

This was followed, on February 11, by a cordial letter from Audubon, in which he said:

I am quite convinced myself that no one can easily be found so well adapted for such a trust as yourself and if my testimoney as to your knowledge and high character and industry, and your zeal in seeking a perfect acquaintance with the various branches of Natural History, and all the scientific and literary pursuits which have heretofore occupied you, may be of any service, please present this note to the Honorable Board of Regents, who I trust will receive it as an evidence of my ardent desire for your success, the more readily as I have the honor, I think, of knowing some of the Board personally.

Spencer Fullerton Baird's subsequent career, following his appointment as Assistant Secretary of the Smithsonian Institution in July, 1850, as successor to Professor Henry, its first Secretary, as the organizer of the United States National Museum and the Fish Commission, now the Bureau of Fisheries, as one of the ablest students of birds and fishes which the country has ever produced, as well as the friend of science and scientific men everywhere, is now well known, and has been ably set forth by his most recent biographer.[216]

John W. Audubon spent the winter of 1846-47 in London, where he was engaged in painting subjects for his father's work on the _Quadrupeds_. While he was there, arrangements were made for the publication in that city of the first volume of the letterpress; this appeared in May, 1847,[217] closely following the American edition of the previous year, and it was the only European issue of the text of that work. At this time also John Audubon made the acquaintance of the distinguished zoölogist, John Edward Gray, then in charge of the great collections which were being brought together under his direction at the British Museum. Gray was asked to furnish descriptions of the animals which the younger Audubon had painted, but, as will appear from the following letter, he declined:[218]

_John Edward Gray to John Woodhouse Audubon_

_4 May 1847_ BRIT. MUSEUM

MY DEAR SIR

I am very sorry that I am so occupied that I cannot undertake to furnish you with the descriptions of the American Mammalia which you have figured here but I think you will find that Dr Richardsons descriptions are so accurate and detailed that you had better copy them for the work than have more imperfect descriptions by a less experienced and minute describer.

at the same time should Dr Bachman on composing the Work want any note or the distinction between any two species or the description of any one wh have not contained in Richardson Work & he will write to me I shall have great pleasure in immediately replying to his request—

Wishing you and your family a pleasant voyage believe me

Yours truly

J. E. GRAY

Bachman was married in 1849 to Maria Martin,[219] his former wife's sister, who had aided Audubon in drawing the accessories of his large plates. While engaged upon the _Quadrupeds_, he wrote to Victor Audubon, from Madison Springs, Georgia, on June 30 of that year, as follows:[220]

I began working four hours a day, now I can work for twelve. I shall lessen the hours, should I find my strength failing. This is my tenth working-day. I have finished seventeen articles, and arranged notes for another. I have used as many of your notes as I could. Maria copies carefully. She lops off to the right and the left with your notes and mine: she corrects, criticizes, abuses, and praises us by turns. Your father's notes, copied from his journal, are valuable—they contain real information; some of the others are humbug and rigmarole; but you have done so well as to surprise us....

I hope that if nothing untoward happens, the Second Volume will be finished in a month, and the Third Volume next winter.

About thirty years later, when Victor Audubon's sister-in-law[221] was making a disposition of his literary effects, a bundle of manuscripts was saved and given to Mr. George Bird Grinnell. Included in it were a number of Audubon's letters, which are now reproduced, as well as a considerable section of the printer's copy of _The Viviparous Quadrupeds of North America_, Volume I; this was in various handwritings, including little of Bachman's himself, much of Victor's and of John G. Bell's; a little of this copy also was made by the second Mrs. Bachman and by other and unknown hands, possibly those of one of Bachman's daughters and of his son-in-law, Reverend John Haskell, all of whom are known to have assisted in this labor.

When we recall the disadvantages under which John Bachman worked, it must be acknowledged that he was deserving of all the credit which he received. Born of Swiss and German stock at Rheinbeck, New York, in 1790, he clearly remembered walking in the mock funeral procession that was held in his village when the country was mourning the death of Washington in 1799. From early boyhood he was an ardent enthusiast in the study of nature, at a time when such studies were generally frowned upon in country districts as not only idle but positively harmful. He trapped the beaver, and from the sale of its skins was able to make his first purchase of books on natural history. While a young man he became acquainted with Alexander Wilson and learned to know him well, having joined him in field excursions and collected birds for him in northern New York; on Wilson's recommendation he succeeded both him and his nephew, William Duncan, in the Elwood School, at Milestown, Pennsylvania, where he taught for a year. While there, a youth of barely fifteen, he was invited, no doubt through the influence of Wilson, to meet Alexander von Humboldt at a dinner given in honor of the great traveler at Philadelphia in 1804. From a pastorate in Shagticoke, New York, Bachman in 1815 went to Charleston, South Carolina, where he presided over the Lutheran church for nearly sixty years, and became thoroughly identified with the South. Beloved as few men ever are in their community, he was widely honored for his attainments in natural science.

In an address on Humboldt, dictated by Bachman when in his eightieth year, and too feeble to deliver it himself, he alluded to the event noticed above to show "how scanty, in those days, was the material in natural science." Among the few naturalists who were present on the occasion of the dinner, which was held in Peale's Museum, were, he said:[222]

the two Bartrams, Wilson, the ornithologist, Lawson, his engraver, George Ord and a few others.... Few speeches were made and those were short—there was no formality.... Humboldt was then, as he was afterwards, in every society, "the observed of all observers".... I saw him every day during the few days he remained in Philadelphia. He inserted my name in his note-book, and for the last sixty years we corresponded at long intervals.... It would be very gratifying to me, and interesting to your societies, if I could have exhibited to you his autograph in some of his letters; but, alas! my whole library and all my collections in Natural History, the accumulation of the labors of a long life, were burnt by Sherman's vandal army, and, with the exception of a single letter, which, by accident, fell into the hands of another member of my family, I possess no memorials of one who condescended to speak of me as a friend.

As we have noticed, Audubon's large illustrations of the _Quadrupeds_ were completed in 1846; this marked the ebb tide of his powers, and his son, John, who had painted nearly one-half of the originals of the large plates, like Victor, continued to aid Bachman in the prosecution of that work. The first number of this lithographic series was introduced by the common American wildcat, or _Lynx rufus_, in three-quarters natural size, followed by the proverbial ground hog, "Maryland marmot," or woodchuck, shown in both young and adult state, in the size of life. Plate No. 4 reproduced an exquisite drawing of four Florida rats climbing over a pine branch. Some of the elder Audubon's plates of squirrels are particularly fine and recall the best of his more famous bird pictures; the gray fox (No. 3, Plate xxi) is sniffing at a feather blown from a farmer's yard; in another drawing a rascally old black rat and its three young ones are robbing a hen's nest and breaking up the eggs; Hudson Bay squirrels reach after hazel nuts which hang in clusters from green boughs above; opossums, with sardonic grin, are making for the ripe, orange fruits of the persimmon, holding to the branch with their rat-like, coiled tails; the swift fox (_Vulpes velox_) sits on the ground, barking like a dog, with head up-turned, while the better known red fox (No. 18, Plate lxxxvii) struggles in an old-fashioned steel trap, the toothed jaws of which have gripped a paw above the heel, and you observe that his tail is where, in the circumstances, it is bound to be—between his legs. While many of these plates are of the highest degree of excellence, the colors are apt to be too vivid and the execution is far from uniform.

Thomas M. Brewer, a valued friend and correspondent,[223] in response to an urgent request, "ere it be too late," paid a visit to the famous naturalist on the Fourth of July, 1846, of which he has given this record:[224]

I found him in a retreat well worthy of so true a lover of nature. It was a lovely spot, on a well-wooded point running out in the river. His dwelling was a large old-fashioned wooden house, from the veranda of which was a fine view, looking both up and down the stream, and around the dwelling were grouped several fine old forest trees of beech and oak. The grounds were well stocked with pets of various kinds, both birds and beasts, while his wild feathered favorites, hardly less confiding, had their nests over his very doorway. Through the grounds ran a small rivulet, over which was a picturesque rural bridge.

The patriarch ... had greatly changed since I had last seen him. He wore his hair longer, and it now hung in locks of snowy whiteness over 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 his Quadrupeds of North America. Surrounded by his large family, including his devoted wife, his two sons, and their wives, his enjoyment of life seemed to leave little to him to desire. He was very fond of the rising generation, and they were as devoted in their affectionate regards for him. He seemed to enjoy to the utmost each moment of time, content at last to submit to an inevitable and well earned leisure, and to throw upon his gifted sons his uncompleted tasks. A pleasanter scene or a more interesting household it has never been the writer's good fortune to witness.

Audubon's last (?) letter to Edward Harris, here reproduced, is dated at "Minnie's Land, Feby 22, 1847," and refers to the letterpress of the _Quadrupeds_. His last published letter to Baird, in which he recommended him to the Board of Regents of the Smithsonian Institution,[225] was written at "Minnie's Land, Feb. 11, 1847." In Spencer F. Baird's last published letter[226] to him, dated at "Carlisle April 24, 1847," he refers to "a fine specimen living of a Red Fox," and added: "If you want him let me know _immediately_ and I will send him on _immediately_." On July 16 of that year Baird entered this note in his diary:[227] "Went to Mr. Audubon's by stage. Found him much changed."

While Audubon never became blind, as has been erroneously stated, it troubled him to use glasses, and when from failing powers he could no longer paint, his heart seemed broken. Like Jonathan Swift, who compared his own case with that of the proud forest tree whose withering top showed to every passerby the first sign of decrepitude, so the mind of Audubon gave way before his splendid physique utterly broke down.

Bachman, who visited his old friend in the spring of 1848, has given this picture of the naturalist's household in a letter[228] from "Minnie's Land, May 11, 1848":

I found all well here, as far as health is concerned. Mrs. Audubon is straight as an arrow, and in fine health, but sadly worried. John has just come in from feeding his dogs. Audubon has heard his little song sung in French, and has gone to bed. Alas, my poor friend, Audubon, the outlines of his countenance and his form are there, but his noble mind is all in ruins.

The following letter was written by Victor Audubon to his father-in-law, John Bachman, before February 8, 1849, when his brother started on the ill-fated expedition to which he refers:

My brother will leave in a few days for California, he will be absent, perhaps for eighteen months.

This journey is undertaken with the hope that he may be able to get gold. What may be the result, God only knows. John will be accompanied by Col. H. L. Webb, as military leader; the party consists of about eighty picked men. One of Dr. Mayer's sons wished to go with John, but unluckily, his application came after the party was made up, so they could not take him.

I should like much to see you all, but now it will be impossible for me to go so far from home.

My dear old father is apparently comfortable, and enjoys his little notions; but requires constant care and attendance; the rest are well. Your granddaughters are growing finely, and are well educated; soon we shall call in a "_Maitre de danse_," to polish them up and _improve their understanding_.

I am just about to start for Washington, to get letters from the President for John and I will try and see the collection brought back by the exploring expedition, including the famous Black-tail Deer. I am in a great bustle, the office is full of Californians.

The California party, which eventually consisted of nearly one hundred young men, sought to reach the goldfields by way of Texas, Mexico and Arizona; attacked by cholera in the valley of the Rio Grande and deserted by their leader, a remnant of the company chose in his stead young Audubon, who bravely conducted them to their destination. John Audubon returned in the following year, after thirteen of the members of the party and $27,000 had been lost in the venture.

Like a patriarch of old, as a friend had once pictured him, Audubon passed the end of his days surrounded by loving and able retainers, who, like "ministers of state," were only too glad to execute his every wish. Distinguished and handsome in age, appearing to many older than he actually was, for years his snowy locks and benign countenance attracted every passer on the street, and for each he had a friendly look, word, or greeting, until in him were fulfilled the words of the Psalmist: "When thou art young thou goest whither thou willest, but when thou art old another shall lead thee, and thou shalt go whither thou willest not." On the 27th of January, 1851, Jean Jacques Fougère Audubon died, before attaining his sixty-seventh year, "as gently as a child composing himself for his beautiful sleep."