Part 5

Then he sought out a brother of Mr. Bakewell and the uncle of his sweetheart, and of him borrowed the money to take him to France. He took passage on a New Bedford brig bound for Nantes. The captain had recently been married and when the vessel reached the vicinity of New Bedford, he discovered some dangerous leaks which necessitated a week's delay to repair damages. Audubon avers that the captain had caused holes to be bored in the vessel's sides below the water line, to gain an excuse to spend a few more days with his bride.

After a voyage of nineteen days the vessel entered the Loire, and anchored in the lower harbour of Nantes, and Audubon was soon welcomed by his father and fond foster-mother.

His first object was to have the man Da Costa disposed of, which he soon accomplished; the second, to get his father's consent to his marriage with Lucy Bakewell, which was also brought about in due time, although the parents of both agreed that they were "owre young to marry yet."

Audubon now remained two years in France, indulging his taste for hunting, rambling, and drawing birds and other objects of Natural History.

This was probably about the years 1805 and 1806. France was under the sway of Napoleon, and conscriptions were the order of the day. The elder Audubon became uneasy lest his son be drafted into the French army; hence he resolved to send him back to America. In the meantime, he interested one Rozier in the lead mine and had formed a partnership between him and his son, to run for nine years. In due course the two young men sailed for New York, leaving France at a time when thousands would have been glad to have followed their footsteps.

On this voyage their vessel was pursued and overhauled by a British privateer, the Rattlesnake, and nearly all their money and eatables were carried off, besides two of the ship's best sailors. Audubon and Rozier saved their gold by hiding it under a cable in the bow of the ship.

On returning to Mill Grove, Audubon resumed his former habits of life there. We hear no more of the lead mine, but more of his bird studies and drawings, the love of which was fast becoming his ruling passion. "Before I sailed for France, I had begun a series of drawings of the birds of America, and had also begun a study of their habits. I at first drew my subject dead, by which I mean to say that after procuring a specimen, I hung it up, either by the head, wing, or foot, and copied it as closely as I could." Even the hateful Da Costa had praised his bird pictures and had predicted great things for him in this direction. His words had given Audubon a great deal of pleasure.

Mr. William Bakewell, the brother of his Lucy, has given us a glimpse of Audubon and his surroundings at this time. "Audubon took me to his house, where he and his companion, Rozier, resided, with Mrs. Thomas for an attendant. On entering his room, I was astonished and delighted that it was turned into a museum. The walls were festooned with all sorts of birds' eggs, carefully blown out and strung on a thread. The chimney piece was covered with stuffed squirrels, raccoons and opossums; and the shelves around were likewise crowded with specimens, among which were fishes, frogs, snakes, lizards, and other reptiles. Besides these stuffed varieties, many paintings were arrayed upon the walls, chiefly of birds. He had great skill in stuffing and preserving animals of all sorts. He had also a trick of training dogs with great perfection, of which art his famous dog Zephyr was a wonderful example. He was an admirable marksman, an expert swimmer, a clever rider, possessed great activity, prodigious strength, and was notable for the elegance of his figure, and the beauty of his features, and he aided Nature by a careful attendance to his dress. Besides other accomplishments, he was musical, a good fencer, danced well, had some acquaintance with legerdemain tricks, worked in hair, and could plait willow baskets." He adds that Audubon once swam across the Schuylkill with him on his back.

II.

Audubon was now eager to marry, but Mr. Bakewell advised him first to study the mercantile business. This he accordingly set out to do by entering as a clerk the commercial house of Benjamin Bakewell in New York, while his friend Rozier entered a French house in Philadelphia.

But Audubon was not cut out for business; his first venture was in indigo, and cost him several hundred pounds. Rozier succeeded no better; his first speculation was a cargo of hams shipped to the West Indies which did not return one fifth of the cost. Audubon's want of business habits is shown by the statement that at this time he one day posted a letter containing eight thousand dollars without sealing it. His heart was in the fields and woods with the birds. His room was filled with drying bird skins, the odour from which, it is said, became so strong that his neighbours sent a constable to him with a message to abate the nuisance.

Despairing of becoming successful business men in either New York or Philadelphia, he and Rozier soon returned to Mill Grove. During some of their commercial enterprises they had visited Kentucky and thought so well of the outlook there that now their thoughts turned thitherward.

Here we get the first date from Audubon; on April 8, 1808, he and Lucy Bakewell were married. The plantation of Mill Grove had been previously sold, and the money invested in goods with which to open a store in Louisville, Kentucky. The day after the marriage, Audubon and his wife and Mr. Rozier started on their journey. In crossing the mountains to Pittsburg the coach in which they were travelling upset, and Mrs. Audubon was severely bruised. From Pittsburg they floated down the Ohio in a flatboat in company with several other young emigrant families. The voyage occupied twelve days and was no doubt made good use of by Audubon in observing the wild nature along shore.

In Louisville, he and Rozier opened a large store which promised well. But Audubon's heart was more and more with the birds, and his business more and more neglected. Rozier attended to the counter, and, Audubon says, grew rich, but he himself spent most of the time in the woods or hunting with the planters settled about Louisville, between whom and himself a warm attachment soon sprang up. He was not growing rich, but he was happy. "I shot, I drew, I looked on Nature only," he says, "and my days were happy beyond human conception, and beyond this I really cared not."

He says that the only part of the commercial business he enjoyed was the ever engaging journeys which he made to New York and Philadelphia to purchase goods.

These journeys led him through the "beautiful, the darling forests of Ohio, Kentucky, and Pennsylvania," and on one occasion he says he lost sight of the pack horses carrying his goods and his dollars, in his preoccupation with a new warbler.

During his residence in Louisville, Alexander Wilson, his great rival in American ornithology, called upon him. This is Audubon's account of the meeting: "One fair morning I was surprised by the sudden entrance into our counting room at Louisville of Mr. Alexander Wilson, the celebrated author of the American Ornithology, of whose existence I had never until that moment been apprised. This happened in March, 1810. How well do I remember him as he then walked up to me. His long, rather hooked nose, the keenness of his eyes, and his prominent cheek bones, stamped his countenance with a peculiar character. His dress, too, was of a kind not usually seen in that part of the country; a short coat, trousers and a waistcoat of grey cloth. His stature was not above the middle size. He had two volumes under his arm, and as he approached the table at which I was working, I thought I discovered something like astonishment in his countenance. He, however, immediately proceeded to disclose the object of his visit, which was to procure subscriptions for his work. He opened his books, explained the nature of his occupations, and requested my patronage. I felt surprised and gratified at the sight of his volumes, turned over a few of the plates, and had already taken my pen to write my name in his favour, when my partner rather abruptly said to me in French: 'My dear Audubon, what induces you to subscribe to this work! Your drawings are certainly far better; and again, you must know as much of the habits of American birds as this gentleman.' Whether Mr. Wilson understood French or not, or if the suddenness with which I paused disappointed him, I cannot tell; but I clearly perceived he was not pleased. Vanity, and the encomiums of my friend, prevented me from subscribing. Mr. Wilson asked me if I had many drawings of birds, I rose, took down a large portfolio, laid it on the table, and showed him as I would show you, kind reader, or any other person fond of such subjects, the whole of the contents, with the same patience, with which he had showed me his own engravings. His surprise appeared great, as he told me he had never had the most distant idea that any other individual than himself had been engaged in forming such a collection. He asked me if it was my intention to publish, and when I answered in the negative, his surprise seemed to increase. And, truly, such was not my intention; for, until long after, when I met the Prince of Musignano in Philadelphia, I had not the least idea of presenting the fruits of my labours to the world. Mr. Wilson now examined my drawings with care, asked if I should have any objection to lending him a few during his stay, to which I replied that I had none. He then bade me good morning, not, however, until I had made an arrangement to explore the woods in the vicinity along with him, and had promised to procure for him some birds, of which I had drawings in my collection, but which he had never seen. It happened that he lodged in the same house with us, but his retired habits, I thought, exhibited a strong feeling of discontent, or a decided melancholy. The Scotch airs which he played sweetly on his flute made me melancholy, too, and I felt for him. I presented him to my wife and friends, and seeing that he was all enthusiasm, exerted myself as much as was in my power to procure for him the specimens which he wanted.

"We hunted together and obtained birds which he had never before seen; but, reader, I did not subscribe to his work, for, even at that time, my collection was greater than his.

"Thinking that perhaps he might be pleased to publish the results of my researches, I offered them to him, merely on condition that what I had drawn, or might afterward draw and send to him, should be mentioned in his work as coming from my pencil. I at the same time offered to open a correspondence with him, which I thought might prove beneficial to us both. He made no reply to either proposal, and before many days had elapsed, left Louisville on his way to New Orleans, little knowing how much his talents were appreciated in our little town, at least by myself and my friends."

Wilson's account of this meeting is in curious contrast to that of Audubon. It is meagre and unsatisfactory. Under date of March 19, he writes in his diary at Louisville: "Rambled around the town with my gun. Examined Mr. ----'s [Audubon's] drawings in crayons--very good. Saw two new birds he had, both Motacillae."

March 21. "Went out this afternoon shooting with Mr. A. Saw a number of Sandhill cranes. Pigeons numerous."

Finally, in winding up the record of his visit to Louisville, he says, with palpable inconsistency, not to say falsehood, that he did not receive one act of civility there, nor see one new bird, and found no naturalist to keep him company.

Some years afterward, Audubon hunted him up in Philadelphia, and found him drawing a white headed eagle. He was civil, and showed Audubon some attention, but "spoke not of birds or drawings."

Wilson was of a nature far less open and generous than was Audubon. It is evident that he looked upon the latter as his rival, and was jealous of his superior talents; for superior they were in many ways. Audubon's drawings have far more spirit and artistic excellence, and his text shows far more enthusiasm and hearty affiliation with Nature. In accuracy of observation, Wilson is fully his equal, if not his superior.

As Audubon had deserted his business, his business soon deserted him; he and his partner soon became discouraged (we hear no more about the riches Rozier had acquired), and resolved upon moving their goods to Hendersonville, Kentucky, over one hundred miles further down the Ohio. Mrs. Audubon and her baby son were sent back to her father's at Fatland Ford where they remained upwards of a year.

Business at Hendersonville proved dull; the country was but thinly inhabited and only the coarsest goods were in demand. To procure food the merchants had to resort to fishing and hunting. They employed a clerk who proved a good shot; he and Audubon supplied the table while Rozier again stood behind the counter.

How long the Hendersonville enterprise lasted we do not know. Another change was finally determined upon, and the next glimpse we get of Audubon, we see him with his clerk and partner and their remaining stock in trade, consisting of three hundred barrels of whiskey, sundry dry goods and powder, on board a keel boat making their way down the Ohio, in a severe snow storm, toward St. Geneviève, a settlement on the Mississippi River, where they proposed to try again. The boat is steered by a long oar, about sixty feet in length, made of the trunk of a slender tree, and shaped at its outer extremity like the fin of a dolphin; four oars in the bow propelled her, and with the current they made about five miles an hour.

Mrs. Audubon, who seems to have returned from her father's, with her baby, or babies, was left behind at Hendersonville with a friend, until the result of the new venture should be determined.