AUDUBON by InmanAUDUBON.From the portrait by Henry Inman. Now in the possession of the family.
AUDUBON.From the portrait by Henry Inman. Now in the possession of the family.
January 23, Tuesday.My first visitor was Mr. Hays the antiquarian, who needed my assistance, or rather my knowledge of French in the translation of a passage relating to "le droit du seigneur." Dr. Combe called later and begged me to go to Mr. Joseph, the sculptor, with him, and through a great fall of snow we went through Windsor Street, one of the handsomest in this beautiful city. Mr. Joseph was in, and I saw an uncommonly good bust of Sir Walter, one of Lord Morton, and several others. I have powerfully in my mind to give my picture of the "Trapped Otter" to Mrs. Basil Hall, and, by Washington, I will. No one deserves it more, and I cannot receive so many favors without trying to make some return.
January 24.My second visit to Sir Walter Scott was much more agreeable than my first. My portfolio and its contents were matters on which I could speak substantially,[113]and I found him so willing to level himself with me for a while that the time spent at his home was agreeable and valuable. His daughter improved in looks the moment she spoke, having both vivacity and good sense.
January 28.Yesterday I had so many visitors that I was quite fatigued; my rooms were full all the time, yet I work away as if they were so many cabbages, except for a short time taken to show them a few drawings, give them chairs, and other civil attentions. In the evening I went to the theatre to see the "Merchant of Venice;" the night was violently stormy, the worst I remember for years. I thought of the poor sailors, what hard lives they have.
January 30, Tuesday.The days begin to show a valuable augmentation. I could this morning begin work at eight, and was still at my easel at four. A man may do a good deal on a painting in eight hours provided he has the power of laying the true tints at once, and does not muddy his colors or need glazing afterwards. Now a query arises. Did the ancient artists and colorists ever glaze their work? I sometimes think they did not, and I am inclined to think thus because their work is of great strength of standing, and extremely solid and confirmed on the canvas—a proof with me that they painted clean and bright at once, but that thisoncethey repeated, perhaps, as often as three times. Glazing certainly is a beautiful way of effecting transparency, particularly over shadowy parts, but I frequentlyfear the coating being so thin, and that time preys on these parts more powerfully than on those unglazed, so that the work is sooner destroyed by its application than without it. I am confident Sir Joshua Reynolds' pictures fade so much in consequence of his constant glazing. Lord Hay, who has only one arm, called this morning, and promised me White Pheasants by Saturday morning. So many people have called that I have not put a foot out to-day.
January 31, Wednesday.I had the delight of receiving letters from home to-day; how every word carried me to my beloved America. Oh, that I could be with you and see those magnificent forests, and listen to sweet Wood Thrushes and the Mock-Birds so gay!
February 1.I have just finished a picture of Black Cock sunning and dusting themselves, with a view in the background of Loch Lomond, nine feet by six, for which I am offered two hundred guineas. It will be exhibited at the Royal Institute rooms next week, and the picture of the Pheasants, the same size, at the Scottish Society of Artists, of which I am now an associate member.
February 5.None of my promised White Pheasants have come, but I have determined the picture shall be finished if I have to paint in a black Crow instead. Dr. Brewster spoke to me of a camera lucida to enable me to outline birds with great rapidity. I would like such an instrument if merely to save time in hot weather, when outlining correctly is more than half the work. At eight o'clock I entered the rooms of the Royal Society. I opened my large sheets and laid them on the table; the astonishment of every one was great, and I saw with pleasure many eyes look from them to me. The business of the society was then done behind closed doors; but when these were opened and we were called into the great room, Captain Hall, taking my hand, led me to a seat immediately opposite to Sir Walter Scott; then, Lucy, I had a perfect view ofthat great man, and I studied from Nature Nature's noblest work. After a lecture on the introduction of the Greek language into England, the president, Sir Walter, rose and we all followed his example. Sir Walter came to me, shook my hand cordially, and asked me how the cold weather of Edinburgh agreed with me. This mark of attention was observed by other members, who looked at me as if I had been a distinguished stranger.
February 9.I have been, and am yet, greatly depressed, yet why I am so it is impossible for me to conceive, unless it be that slight vexations, trifling in themselves, are trying to me, because, alas! I am only a very, very common man. I dined to-night at Professor Jameson's, and as my note said "with a few friends," was surprised to find thirty besides myself. The engineer, Mr. S——, was here, and many other noted men, including the famous Professor Leslie,[114]an enormous mass of flesh and an extremely agreeable man, who had been in Virginia many years ago, but recollects those days well.
February 10.I visited the Royal Institution this morning, and saw my Black Cocks over the first of the first-room doors. I know well that the birds are drawn as well as any birds ever have been; but what a difference exists between drawing one bird or a dozen and amalgamating them with a sky, a landscape, and a well adapted foreground. Who has not felt a sense of fear while trying to combine all this? I looked at my work long, then walked round the room, when my eyes soon reached a picture by Landseer, the death of a stag. I saw much in it of the style of those men who know how to handle a brush and carry a good effect; but Nature was not there, although a Stag, three dogs, and a Highlander were introduced on the canvas. The Stag had his tongue out and his mouth shut! The principal dog, a greyhound, held the Deer by one earjust as if a loving friend; the young hunter has laced the Deer by one horn very prettily, and in the attitude of a ballet-dancer was about to cast the noose over the head of the animal. To me, or to my friends Dr. Pope or Mr. Bourgeat such a picture is quite a farce; not so here however. Many other pictures drew my attention, and still more so the different artists who came in with brushes and palettesto tickle their pictures. I was to read a paper at the Wernerian Society on the Rattlesnake, but had not had time to finish it; nevertheless I went to the society rooms, which were crowded. I was sorry I was not prepared to read to those assembled that a Rattlesnake rattled his tail, not to give knowledge to man of his presence, but because he never strikes without rattling, and that destitute of that appendage he cannot strike at all. The wind blows a doleful tune and I feel utterly alone.
Monday, February 12.Mr. Lizars insisted on my going to the Antiquarian Society, saying it was usual for a member newly elected to be present on the first occasion possible. I went, of course, but felt very sheepish withal. We had an excellent paper by Mr. Hays respecting a bell found in Argyle, of very ancient date.
Tuesday, February 13.This was the grand, long promised, and much wished-for day of the opening of the Exhibition at the rooms of the Royal Institution. At one o'clock I went, the doors were just opened, and in a few minutes the rooms were crowded. Sir Walter Scott was present; he came towards me, shook my hand cordially, and pointing to Landseer's picture said: "Many such scenes, Mr. Audubon, have I witnessed in my younger days." We talked much of all about us, and I would gladly have joined him in a glass of wine, but my foolish habits prevented me, and after inquiring of his daughter's health, I left him, and shortly afterwards the rooms; for I had a great appetite, and although there were tables loaded with delicacies, and I saw the ladies particularlyeating freely, I must say to my shameIdared not lay my fingers on a single thing. In the evening I went to the theatre where I was much amused by "The Comedy of Errors," and afterwards "The Green Room." I admire Miss Neville's singing very much; and her manners also; there is none of the actress about her, but much of the lady.
Tuesday, 20th.A week has passed without writing here because I have done nothing else but write—many letters for Captain Hall, and at his request a paper to be read at the Natural History Society. I pitched on the "Habits of the Wild Pigeon." I began on Wednesday, and it took me until half-past three of the morning, and after a few hours' sleep I rose to correct it, which was needed, I can assure thee. Were it not for thefactsit contains, I would not give a cent for it, nor anybody else, I dare say. I positively brought myself so much among the Pigeons and in the woods of America that my ears were as if really filled with the noise of their wings; I was tired and my eyes ached. I dined at a Mr. Tytler's and met among the guests Mr. Cruden, brother of the compiler of the famous concordance. On Sunday I made for the seashore, and walked eight miles; the weather was extremely cold, my ears and nose I thought would drop off, yet I went on. Monday Captain Hall called to speak to me about my paper on Pigeons; he complained that I expressed the belief that Pigeons were possessed of affection and tenderest love, and that this raised the brute species to a level with man. O man! misled, self-conceited being, when wilt thou keep within the sphere of humility that, with all thy vices and wickedness about thee, should be thine. At the exhibition rooms I put up my drawing of the Wild Pigeons and Captain Hall read my paper. I was struck with the silence and attention of the audience. The president invited me to supper with him, but I was too excited, so excused myself.
February 21.I wrote again nearly all day, and in the evening went to the theatre to see "The School for Grown Children."
February 23.Young Hutchinson came about the middle of the day, and I proposed we should have an early dinner and a long walk after for the sake of exercise, that I now find much needed. We proceeded towards the village of Portobello, distant three miles, the weather delightful, the shore dotted with gentlemen on horseback galloping over the sand in all directions. The sea calm and smooth, had many fishing-boats. The village is a summer resort, built handsomely of white stone, and all was quietness. From here we proceeded across country to Duddingston, about a mile and a half, to see the skaters on thelake, a mere duck puddle; but the ice was too thin, and no skaters were there. We gradually ascended the hill called Arthur's Seat, and all of a sudden came in full view of the fair city. We entered in the Old Town and reached my lodgings by the North Bridge. I was quite tired, and yet I had not walked more than ten miles. I thought this strange, and wondered if it could be the same body that travelled over one hundred and sixty-five miles in four days without a shade of fatigue. The cities do not tempt me to walk, and so I lose the habit.
February 24.To the Wernerian Society at two o'clock, my drawing of the Mocking-Bird with me. The room was completely filled, and a paper on the rhubarb of commerce was read; it was short, and then Professor Jameson called my name. I rose, and read as distinctly as I could my paper on Rattlesnakes, a job of three quarters of an hour. Having finished I was cheered by all, and the thanks of the Assembly unanimously voted. My cheeks burned, and after a few questions had been put me by the president and some of the gentlemen present, I handed my manuscript to Professor Jameson, and was glad to be gone. Young Murray, the son of the London publisher, accompanied me tothe Scottish Society Exhibition, but I soon left him as so many eyes were directed to me that I was miserable.
February 27.It blew and rained tremendously, and this morning I parted from Captain Hall, who goes to London. His leaving Edinburgh affects me considerably; he is a kind, substantial friend, and when we finally shook hands, I doubt not he knew the feeling in my heart. This evening was spent at Mr. Joseph's the sculptor. There were a number of guests, and music and dancing was proposed. My fame as a dancer produced, I am sure, false expectations; nevertheless I found myself on the floor with Mrs. Joseph, a lively, agreeable little lady, much my junior, and about my Lucy's age. After much dancing, during which light refreshments were served, we sat down to supper at twelve o'clock, and we did not leave till three.
February 28.I have been reading Captain Hall's "Voyages and Travels," and going much about to rest my eyes and head; but these few days of idleness have completely sickened me, and have given me what is named the Blue Devils so effectually that the sooner I drive them off the better.
March 1.Mr. Kidd,[115]the landscape artist, breakfasted with me, and we talked painting a long time. I admired him for his talents at so early a period of life, he being only nineteen. What would I have been now if equally gifted by nature at that age? But, sad reflection, I have been forced constantly to hammer and stammer as if in opposition to God's will, and so therefore am nothing now but poor Audubon. I asked him to come to me daily to eat, drink, and give me the pleasure of his company and advice. I told him my wish was so intense to improve in the delightful art of painting that I should begin a new picture to-morrow, and took down my portfolio to look for one of my drawings to copy in oil. He hadnever seen my work, and his bright eyes gazed eagerly on what he saw with admiration.
March 2.Mr. Kidd breakfasted with me, and we painted the whole day.
March 3.I painted as constantly to-day, as it snowed and blew hard outside my walls. I thought frequently that the devils must be at the handles of Æolus' bellows, and turned the cold blasts into the Scotch mists to freeze them into snow. It is full twenty years since I saw the like before. I dined at Mr. Ritchie's, reaching his house safely through more than two feet of snow.
March 4.The weather tolerably fair, but the snow lay deep. The mails from all quarters were stopped, and the few people that moved along the streets gave a fuller idea of winter in a northern clime than anything I have seen for many years. Mr. Hays called for me, and we went to breakfast with the Rev. Mr. Newbold, immediately across the street. I was trundled into a sedan chair to church. I had never been in a sedan chair before, and I like to try, as well as see, all things on the face of this strange world of ours; but so long as I have two legs and feet below them, never will I again enter one of these machines, with their quick, short, up-and-down, swinging motion, resembling the sensations felt during the great earthquake in Kentucky. But Sydney Smith preached. Oh! what a soul there must be in the body of that great man. What sweet yet energetic thoughts, what goodness he must possess. It was a sermonto me. He made me smile, and he made me think deeply. He pleased me at times by painting my foibles with due care, and again I felt the color come to my cheeks as he portrayed my sins. I left the church full of veneration not only towards God, but towards the wonderful man who so beautifully illustrates his noblest handiwork. After lunch Mr. Hays and I took a walk towards Portobello, tumbling and pitching in the deep snow. I saw Sky-Larks, poor things, caught in snares aseasily—as men are caught. For a wonder I have done no work to-day.
March 5.As a lad I had a great aversion to anything English or Scotch, and I remember when travelling with my father to Rochefort in January, 1800, I mentioned this to him, for to him, thank God, I always told all my thoughts and expressed all my ideas. How well I remember his reply: "Laforest, thy blood will cool in time, and thou wilt be surprised to see how gradually prejudices are obliterated, and friendships acquired, towards those that at one time we held in contempt. Thou hast not been in England; I have, and it is a fine country." What has since taken place? I have admired and esteemed many English and Scotch, and therefore do I feel proud to tell thee that I am a Fellow of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. My day has been rather dull, though I painted assiduously. This evening I went to the Society of Arts, where beautiful experiments were shown by the inventors themselves; a steam coach moved with incomprehensible regularity. I am undetermined whether to go to Glasgow on my way to Dublin, or proceed overland to Newcastle, Liverpool, Oxford, Cambridge, and so on to London, but I shall move soon.
March 7.This evening I was introduced to Sydney Smith, the famous preacher of last Sunday, and his fair daughters, and heard them sing most sweetly. I offered to show them some of my drawings and they appointed Saturday at one o'clock. The wind is blowing as if intent to destroy the fair city of Edinburgh.
March 8.The weather was dreadful last night and still continues so; the snow is six feet deep in some parts of the great roads, and I was told at the Post Office that horsemen sent with the mail to London had been obliged to abandon their horses, and proceed on foot. Wrote a letter to Sir Walter Scott requesting a letter of introduction, or shall I sayendorsement, and his servant brought mea gratifying reply at eight of the evening. At one Dr. Spence came with Miss Neville, the delightful singer at the theatre, her mother, and Miss Hamilton. They sat with me some time, and I was glad to see near-by the same Miss Neville whom I admire so much at the play. I found her possessed of good sense and modesty, and like her much; her mother asked me to spend the evening of next Saturday with them, and said her daughter would sing for me with pleasure. Had a note from Sydney Smith; the man should study economy; he would destroy more paper in a day than Franklin in a week; but all great men are more or less eccentric. Walter Scott writes a diminutive hand, very difficult to read, Napoleon a large, scrawling one, still more difficult, and Sydney Smith goes up-hill all the way with large strides.
March 9.My first work this day was to send as a present to Miss Anne Scott a copy of my first number. Professor Wilson called and promised to come again on Monday.
March 10.I visited Mr. James B. Fraser,[116]a great traveller in Asia and Africa, and saw there a large collection of drawings and views in water-colors of the scenery of these countries. The lecture at the Wernerian Society was very interesting; it was on the uses of cotton in Egypt, and the origin of the name in the English language. I dined at Mr. Neill's; among the guests was a Mr. Blair, the superintendent of the Botanical Gardens here; he has been in different parts of America frequently. There were several other gentlemen present interested in like subjects, and we talked of little else than trees and exotic plants, birds and beasts; in fact it was a naturalists' dinner, but a much better one than naturalists generally have who study in the woods. I was obliged to leave early, as I had an engagement at Miss Neville's. Tea was served, after which Miss Neville rose, and said she would open theconcert. I was glad to see her simply but beautifully dressed in a plain white gown of fine muslin, with naught but her fine auburn hair loose in large curls about her neck, and a plain scarf of a light-rose color. She sang and played most sweetly; the gentlemen present were all more or less musical, and we had fine glees, duets, trios. The young lady scarcely left off singing, for no sooner was a song finished than some one asked for another; she immediately replied, "Oh, yes," and in a moment the room was filled with melody. I thought she must be fatigued, and told her so, but she replied: "Mr. Audubon, singing is like painting; it never fatigues if one is fond of it, and I am." After a handsome supper we had more singing, and it was past two o'clock when I rose, shook hands with Miss Neville, bowed to the company, and made my exit.
March 12.I can scarcely believe that this day, there is in many places six feet of snow, yet with all this no invitation is ever laid aside, and last evening I went to dinner in a coach drawn by four horses. At noon to-day I went with Mr. Lizars to the Assembly Rooms, to see the fencing. About a thousand persons, all in full dress, gathered in a few minutes, and a circle being formed, eight young men came in, and went through the first principles of fencing; we had fine martial music and a succession of fencing turns till two o'clock, when the assault began between the two best scholars. Five hits were required to win the prize—a fine sword—and it was presented to the conqueror, a Mr. Webster. At half-past six I dined at Mr. Hamilton's, where a numerous and agreeable party was assembled. At ten Miss Neville and her mother came with still others. We had dancing and singing, and here I am, quite wearied at half-past three; but I must be up early to-morrow morning.
March 13.The little I slept had a bad effect on me, for I rose cross of mind and temper. I took a long walk on the London road, returned and reached Brae House, andbreakfasted with the famous Mrs. Grant,[117]an old lady very deaf, but very agreeable withal. Her son and daughter and another lady formed our party. We talked of nothing but America; Mrs. Grant is positively the only person I have met here who knows anything true about my country. I promised to call again soon. This evening I dined at Sir James Riddell's, and I do not know when I have spent a more uncomfortable evening; the company were all too high for me, though Sir James and his lady did all they could for me. Thetonhere surpassed that at the Earl of Morton's;five gentlemenwaited on us while at table, and two of these put my cloak about my shoulders, notwithstanding all I could say to the contrary. Several of these men were quite as well dressed as their master. What will that sweet lady, Mrs. Basil Hall think of a squatter's hut in Mississippi in contrast with this? No matter! whatever may be lacking, there is usually a hearty welcome. Oh! my America, how dearly I love thy plain, simple manners.
March 14.I have been drawing all day, two Cat-birds and some blackberries for the Countess of Morton, and would have finished it had I not been disturbed by visitors. Mr. Hays came with his son; he asked me if it would not be good policy for me to cut my hair and have a fashionable coat made before I reached London. I laughed, and he laughed, and my hair is yet as God made it.
March 17.I had long wished to visit Roslyn Castle and the weather being beautiful I applied to Mrs. Dickie for a guide, and she sent her son with me. We passed over the North Bridge and followed the turnpike road, passing along the foot of the Pentland Hills, looking back frequently to view Edinburgh under its cloud of smoke, until we had passed a small eminence that completely hid it afterwards from our sight. Not an object of interest layin our way until we suddenly turned southeast and entered the little village of Roslyn. I saylittle, because not more than twenty houses are there, and these are all small except one. It is high, however, so much so that from it we looked down on the ruined castle, although the elevation of the castle above the country around is very great. On inquiry, we were assured that the chapel was the only remaining edifice worthy of attention. We walked down to it and entered an enclosure, when before us stood the remains of the once magnificent Chapel of Roslyn. What volumes of thoughts rushed into my mind. I, who had read of the place years before, who knew by tradition the horrors of the times subsequent to the founding of the edifice, now confronted reality. I saw the marks of sacrilegious outrage on objects silent themselves and which had been raised in adoration to God. Strange that times which produced such beautiful works of art should allow the thief and the murderer to go almost unpunished. This Gothic chapel is a superb relic; each stone is beautifully carved, and each differs from all the others. The ten pillars and five arches are covered with the finest fret-work, and all round are seen the pedestals that once supported the images that Knox's party were wont to destroy without thought or reason. I went down some mouldering steps into the Sacristy, but found only bare walls, decaying very fast; yet here a curious plant was growing, of a verdigris color. To reach the castle we went down and along a narrow ridge, on each side of which the ground went abruptly to the bottom of a narrow, steep valley, through which a small, petulant stream rushed with great rapidity over a rocky bed. This guards three sides of the promontory on which Roslyn Castle once was; for now only a few masses of rubbish were to be seen, and a house of modern structure occupies nearly the original site. In its day it must have been a powerful structure, but now, were it existing, cannon could destroyit in a few hours, if they were placed on the opposite hills. A large meadow lay below us, covered with bleaching linen, and the place where we stood was perfectly lonely, not even the reviving chirp of a single bird could be heard, and my heart sank low while my mind was engaged in recollections of the place. In silence we turned and left the Castle and the little village, and returned by another route to busy Edinburgh. The people were just coming out of church, and as I walked along I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard good Mr. Neill say, "Where are you going at the rate of six miles an hour?" and he took me home to dine with him, after we had been to my lodgings, where I put my feet in ice cold water for ten minutes, when I felt as fresh as ever.
FACSIMILE OF ENTRY IN JOURNALFACSIMILE OF ENTRY IN JOURNAL
FACSIMILE OF ENTRY IN JOURNAL
March 19, 1827.This day my hair was sacrificed, and the will of God usurped by the wishes of man. As the barber clipped my locks rapidly, it reminded me of the horrible times of the French Revolution when the same operation was performed upon all the victims murdered at the guillotine; my heart sank low.
John J. Audubon.[118]
Shortly after breakfast I received a note from Captain Hall, and another from his brother, both filled with entreaties couched in strong terms that I shouldalter my hairbefore I went to London. Good God! if Thy works are hated by man it must be with Thy permission. I sent for a barber, and my hair was mowed off in a trice. I knew I was acting weakly, but rather than render my good friend miserable about it, I suffered the loss patiently.
March 20.I visited Mr. Hays at his office, and had the pleasure of seeing all the curious ancient manuscripts, letters, mandates, Acts of Parliament, etc., connected with the official events of Scotland with England for upwardsof three hundred years past. Large volumes are written on parchment, by hand, and must have been works of immense labor. The volumes containing the mere transfers of landed estates filed within the last forty years amounted to almost three thousand, and the parcels of ancient papers filled many rooms in bundles and in bags of leather, covered with dust, and mouldering with age. The learned antiquarian, Mr. Thompson, has been at great pains to put in order all these valuable and curious documents. The edifice of the Registry is immense, and the long, narrow passages proved a labyrinth to me. Mr. Hays' allotted portion of curiosities consists of Heraldry, and I saw the greatest display of coats of arms of all sorts, emblazoned in richest style on sleek vellum and parchment.
March 21.Called on Miss D——, the fair American. To my surprise I saw the prints she had received the evening before quite abused and tumbled. This, however, was not my concern, and I regretted it only on her account, that so little care should be taken of a book that in fifty years will be sold at immense prices because of its rarity.[119]The wind blew great guns all morning. Finding it would be some days before my business would permit me to leave, I formed an agreement to go to see the interior of the Castle, the regalia, and other curiosities of the place to-morrow. I received a valuable letter of introduction to the Secretary of the Home Department, Mr. Peel, from the Lord Advocate of Scotland, given me at the particular request of the Countess of Morton, a most charming lady; the Earl of Morton would have written himself but for the low state of his health.
March 22.After lunch the Rev. Wm. Newbold and I proceeded to the Castle; the wind blew furiously, and consequentlyno smoke interfered with the objects I wished to see. We passed a place called the "Mound," a thrown-up mass of earth connecting now the New with the Old city of Edinburgh. We soon reached the gates of the Castle, and I perceived plainly that I was looked upon as an officer from the continent. Strange! three days ago I was taken for a priest, quick transition caused only by the clipping of my locks. We crossed the drawbridge and looked attentively at the deep and immense dried ditches below, passed through the powerful double gates, all necessary securities to such a place. We ascended continually until we reached the parapets where the King stood during his visit, bowing, I am told, to the gaping multitude below, his hat off, and proud enough, no doubt, of hishigh station. My hat was also off, but under different impulses; I was afraid that the wind would rob me of it suddenly. I did not bow to the people, but I looked with reverence and admiration on the beauties of nature and of art that surrounded me, with a pleasure seldom felt before. The ocean was rugged with agitated waves as far as the eye could reach eastwardly; not a vessel dared spread its sails, so furious was the gale. The high mountains of wild Scotland now and then faintly came to our view as the swift-moving clouds passed, and suffered the sun to cast a momentary glance at them. The coast of the Frith of Forth exhibited handsome villas, and noblemen's seats, bringing at once before me the civilization of man, and showing how weak and insignificant we all are. My eyes followed the line of the horizon and stopped at a couple of small elevations, that I knew to be the home of the Countess of Morton; then I turned to the immense city below, where men looked like tiny dwarfs, and horses smaller than sheep. To the east lay the Old Town, and now and then came to my ears the music of a band as the squall for a moment abated. I could have remained here a whole day, but my companion called, and I followedhim to the room where the regalia are kept. We each wrote our names, paid our shilling, and the large padlock was opened by a red-faced, bulky personage dressed in a fanciful scarlet cloth, hanging about him like mouldering tapestry. A small oblong room, quite dark, lay before us; it was soon lighted, however, by our conductor. A high railing of iron, also of an oblong form, surrounded a table covered with scarlet cloth, on which lay an immense sword and its scabbard, two sceptres, a large, square, scarlet cushion ornamented with golden tassels, and above all the crown of Scotland. All the due explanations were cried out by our conductor, on whose face the reflection of all the red articles was so powerfully displayed just now that it looked like a large tomato, quite as glittering, but of a very different flavor, I assure thee. We looked at all till I was tired; not long did this take, for it had not one thousandth portion of the beauties I had seen from the parapet. We left the Castle intending to proceed to the stone quarries three miles distant, but the wind was now so fierce, and the dust so troubled my eyes, that the jaunt was put off till another day. I paid young Kidd three guineas for his picture. Have just had some bread and butter and will go to bed.
March 23.Young Kidd breakfasted with me, and no sooner had he gone than I set to and packed up. I felt very low-spirited; the same wind keeps blowing, and I am now anxious to be off to Mr. Selby's Newcastle, and my dear Green Bank. My head was so full of all manner of thoughts that I thought it was Saturday, instead of Friday, and at five o'clock I dressed in a great hurry and went to Mr. Henry Witham's with all possible activity. My Lucy, I was not expected till to-morrow! Mr. Witham was not at home, and his lady tried to induce me to remain and dine with her and her lovely daughter; but I declined, and marched home as much ashamed of my blunder as a fox who has lost his tail in a trap. Once before I made asad blunder; I promised to dine at three different houses the same day, and when it came I discovered my error, and wrote an apology to all, and went to none.
Twizel House, Belford—Northumberland, April 10, 1827.Probably since ten years I have not been so long without recording my deeds or my thoughts; and even now I feel by no means inclined to write, and for no particular reason. From Friday the 23d of March till the 5th of April my time was busily employed, copying some of my drawings, from five in the morning till seven at night. I dined out rarely, as I found the time used by this encroached too much on that needed by my ardent desire to improve myself in oil and in perspective, which I wished to study with close attention. Every day brought me packets of letters of introduction, and I called here and there to make my adieux. I went often in the evening to Mr. Lizars'; I felt the parting with him and his wife and sister would be hard, and together we attended meetings of the different societies. The last night I went to the Royal Society. Sir Wm. Hamilton[120]read a paperagainstphrenology, which would seem to quite destroy the theory of Mr. Combe. I left many things in the care of my landlady, as well as several pictures, and at six o'clock on the morning of April 5, left Edinburgh, where I hope to go again. The weather was delightful. We passed Dunbar and Berwick, our road near the sea most of the time, and at half-past four, the coach stopped opposite the lodge of Twizel House. I left my baggage in the care of the woman at the lodge, and proceeded through some small woods towards the house, which I saw after a few minutes,—a fine house, commanding an extensive view of the country, the German Ocean, and Bamborough Castle. I ascended the great staircase with pleasure, for I knew that here was congeniality of feeling. Hearing the family wereout and would not return for two hours, I asked to be shown to the library, and told my name. The man said not a word, went off, and about ten minutes after, whilst I was reading the preface of William Roscoe to his "Leo X.," returned and said his master would be with me in a moment. I understood all this. Mr. Selby came in, in hunting-dress, and we shook hands as hunters do. He took me at once out in his grounds, where Mrs. Selby, his three daughters, and Captain Mitford his brother-in-law were all engaged transplanting trees, and I felt at home at once. When we returned to the house Mr. Selby conducted me to hislaboratory, where guns, birds, etc., were everywhere. I offered to make a drawing and Captain Mitford went off to shoot a Chaffinch. We had supper, after which the eagerness of the young ladies made me open my box of drawings; later we had music, and the evening passed delightfully. I thought much of home I assure thee, and of Green Bank also, and then of my first sight of thee at Fatland, and went to bed thanking God for the happy moments he has granted us. The next morning I felt afraid my early habits would create some disturbance in the repose of the family, and was trying to make good my outing at five, and thought I had already done so, when to my surprise and consternation the opening of the hall door made such a noise as I doubted not must have been heard over the whole establishment; notwithstanding, I issued into the country fresh air, and heard all around me the Black-birds, Thrushes, and Larks at their morning songs. I walked, or rather ran about, like a bird just escaped from a cage; plucked flowers, sought for nests, watched the fishes, and came back to draw. All went well; although theshooting season(as the English please to call it) was long since over, we took frequent walks with guns, and a few individuals were the sufferers from my anxiety to see their bills, and eyes, and feathers; and many a mile did I race over the moorsto get them. More or less company came daily to see my drawings, and I finished a drawing for Mr. Selby of three birds, a Lapwing for Mrs. Selby, who drew fully as well as I did, and who is now imitating my style, and to whom I have given some lessons. Also I finished a small picture in oil for the charming elder daughter Louise; the others are Jane and Fanny. So much at home did we become that the children came about me as freely as if I had long known them; I was delighted at this, for to me to have familiar intercourse with children, the most interesting of beings, is one of my greatest enjoyments, and my time here was as happy as at Green Bank; I can say no more. The estate is well situated, highly ornamented, stocked with an immensity of game of the country, and trout abound in the little rivulets that tumble from rock to rock towards the northern ocean. To-morrow I leave this with Captain Mitford for his country seat.
Mitford Castle, near Morpeth, Northumberland, April 11, 1827.I rose as early as usual, and not to disturb my kind friends, I marched down the staircase in my stockings, as I often do where the family are not quite such early risers; instead of opening the hall door I sat down in the study, and outlined a Lapwing, in an extremely difficult position, for my friend Selby, and did not go on my walk until the servants made their appearance, and then I pushed off to the garden and the woods to collect violets. I felt quite happy, the fragrance of the air seemed equal to that of the little blue flowers which I gathered. We breakfasted, and at ten o'clock I bid farewell to Mrs. Selby; good, amiable lady, how often she repeated her invitation to me to come and spend a goodly time with them. Mr. Selby and the children walked down to the lodge with the captain and me, and having reached the place too early we walked about the woods awhile. The parting moment came at last, all too soon, our baggage was put on the top of the "Dart," anopposition coach, and away we rolled. My good companion Captain Mitford kept my spirits in better plight than they would otherwise have been, by his animated conversation about game, fishing, America, etc., and after a ride of about twelve miles we entered the small village of Alnwick, commanded by the fine castle of the Duke of Northumberland. Having to change horses and wait two hours, we took a walk, and visited the interior of that ancient mass of buildings, the whole being deserted at present, the Duke absent. I saw the armory, the dungeons, the place for racking prisoners, but the grotesque figures of stone standing in all sorts of attitudes, defensive andoffensive, all round the top of the turrets and bastions, struck me most. They looked as if about to move, or to take great leaps to the ground, to cut our throats. This castle covers five acres of ground, is elevated, and therefore in every direction are good views of the country. From it I saw the cross put up in memory of King Malcolm killed by Hammond. At two precisely (for in England and Scotland coaches start with great punctuality) we were againen route. We passed over the Aln River, a very pretty little streamlet, and reached Felton, where we changed horses. The whole extent of country we passed this day was destitute of woods, and looked to me very barren. We saw little game; about five we arrived within two miles of Morpeth, where the captain and I alighted; we walked to a pretty little vale and the ruins of the old castle lay before us, still doomed to moulder more, and walking on reached the confluence of two small, pretty streams from which originated the name of my friend's ancestors,Meetingford. We reached the house, and having heard of his brother's indisposition, the captain and I entered quietly, and I was presented to the owner of the hall. I saw before me a thin, pale, emaciated being who begged I would go to him, as he could not rise. I shook his withered hand and received hiskind welcome. During the evening I had ample opportunity to observe how clever and scientific he was, and regretted the more his frail body. He was extremely anxious to see my drawings, and he examined them more closely than I can ever remember any one to have done before, and was so well acquainted with good drawing that I felt afraid to turn them over for his inspection. After looking at probably a hundred without saying a single word, he exclaimed suddenly: "They are truly beautiful; our King ought to purchase them, they are too good to belong to asingleindividual." We talked much on subjects of natural history, and he told me that he made it a rule that not a gun was ever fired during the breeding season on any part of his beautiful estate; he delighted to see the charming creatures enjoy life and pleasure without any annoyance. Rooks, Jackdaws, Wood-Pigeons, and Starlings were flying in hundreds about the ruined castle. We sat up till after twelve, when hot water and spirits were produced, after which we said good-night; but I needed nothing to make me sleep, for in five minutes after I lay down I was—I know not where.
April 12.I am now at last where the famous Bewick produced his handsome and valuable work on the birds of England. It is a dirty-looking place, this Newcastle, and I do not know if it will prove at all pleasant. This morning early the captain and myself took a good ramble about Mitford Hall grounds; saw the rookery, the ruins of the castle, and walked some way along the little river front. We breakfasted about ten with his brother, who wished to see my drawings by daylight. Afterwards my baggage was taken to Morpeth, and the captain and I walked thither about twelve. Our way was along a pretty little stream called the Wansbeck, but the weather changed and the rain assured me that none of the persons we expected to see in the village would come, on this account, and I was not mistaken. At half-past four I mounted the coach forthis place, and not an object of interest presented itself in the journey of thirteen miles.
Newcastle-upon-Tyne, April 13.At ten o'clock I left the inn, having had a very indifferent breakfast, served on dirty plates; therefore I would not recommend the "Rose and Crown," or the hostess, to any friend of mine. Yet my bed was quite comfortable, and my sleep agreeably disturbed about one hour before day by some delightful music on the bugle. I often, even before this, have had a wish to be a performer on this instrument, so sure I am that our grand forests and rivers would re-echo its sonorous sounds with fine effect. I passed through many streets, but what a shabby appearance this Newcastle-upon-Tyne has, after a residence of nearly six months in the beautiful city of Edinburgh. All seems dark and smoky, indeed I conceive myself once more in Manchester. The cries of fish, milk, and vegetables, were all different, and I looked in vain for the rosy cheeks of the Highlanders. I had letters to the members of the Johnson family, given me by Captain Mitford, and therefore went to St. James Square, where I delivered them, and was at once received by a tall, fine-looking young gentleman, who asked me if I had breakfasted. On being answered in the affirmative, he requested me to excuse him till he had finished his, and I sat opposite the fire thinking about the curious pilgrimage I had now before me. Will the result repay the exertions? Alas! it is quite impossible for me to say, but that I shall carry the plan out in all its parts is certain unless life departs, and then I must hope that our Victor will fall into my place and accomplish my desires, with John's help to draw the birds, which he already does well. Mr. Edward Johnson soon re-entered, bringing with him Mr. John Adamson, secretary to the Literary and Philosophical Society of this place. I presented the letter for him from Mr. Selby, but I saw at once that he knew me by name. Soon after he very kindly aided me to find suitablelodgings, which I did in Collingwood Street. We then walked to Mr. Bewick's, the engraver, son of the famous man, and happily met him. He is a curious-looking man; his head and shoulders are both broad, but his keen, penetrating eyes proved that Nature had stamped him for some use in this world. I gave him the letters I had for him, and appointed a time to call on his father. I again suffered myself to be imposed upon when I paid my bill at the inn on removing to my lodgings, and thought of Gil Blas of Santillane. Five persons called to see my drawings this afternoon, and I received a note from Mr. Bewick inviting me to tea at six; so I shall see and talk with the wonderful man. I call him wonderful because I am sincerely of the opinion that his work on wood is superior to anything ever attempted in ornithology. It is now near eleven at night. Robert Bewick (the son) called for me about six, and we proceeded to his father's house. On our way I saw an ancient church with a remarkably beautifulLanterneat top, St. Nicholas' Church I was told, then we passed over the Tyne, on a fine strong bridge of stone, with several arches, I think six or seven. This is distant from the sea, and I must say that the Tynehereis the only stream I have yet seen since my landing resembling at all a river. It is about as large as Bayou Sara opposite the Beech Woods, when full. I saw some of the boats used in carrying coals down the stream; they are almost of oval shape, and are managed with long, sweeping oars, and steerers much like our flat-boats on the Ohio. My companion did not talk much; he is more an acting man than a talker, and I did not dislike him for that. After ascending a long road or lane, we arrived at Bewick's dwelling, and I was taken at once to where he was at work, and saw the man himself. He came to me and welcomed me with a hearty shake of the hand, and took off for a moment his half-clean cotton night-cap tinged with the smoke of the place. He is tall, stout, has a very largehead, and his eyes are further apart than those of any man I remember just now. A complete Englishman, full of life and energy though now seventy-four, very witty and clever, better acquainted with America than most of his countrymen, and an honor to England. Having shown me the work he was at, a small vignette cut on a block of box-wood not more than three by two inches, representing a dog frightened during the night by false appearances of men formed by curious roots and branches of trees, rocks, etc., he took me upstairs and introduced me to his three daughters—all tall, and two of them with extremely fine figures; they were desirous to make my visit an agreeable one and most certainly succeeded. I met there a Mr. Goud, and saw from his pencil a perfect portrait of Thomas Bewick, a miniature, full-length, in oil, highly finished, well drawn and composed. The old gentleman and I stuck to each other; he talked of my drawings, and I of his woodcuts, till we liked each other very much. Now and then he would take off his cotton cap, but the moment he became animated with the conversation the cap was on, yet almost off, for he had stuck it on as if by magic. His eyes sparkled, his face was very expressive, and I enjoyed him much more, I am sure, than he supposed. He had heard of my drawings and promised to call early to-morrow morning with his daughters and some friends. I did not forget dear John's wish to possess a copy of his work on quadrupeds, and having asked where I could procure one, he answered "Here." After coffee and tea had been served, young Bewick, to please me, brought a bagpipe of a new construction, called a "Durham," and played simple, nice Scotch and English airs with peculiar taste; the instrument sounded like a hautboy. Soon after ten the company broke up, and we walked into Newcastle. The streets were desolate, and their crookedness and narrowness made me feel the more the beauty of fair Edinburgh.
April 14.The weather is now becoming tolerable and spring is approaching. The Swallows glide past my windows, and the Larks are heard across the Tyne. Thomas Bewick, his whole family, and about a hundred others have kept me busy exhibiting drawings. Mr. Bewick expressed himself as perfectly astounded at the boldness of my undertaking. I am to dine with him to-morrow, Mr. Adamson to-day, and Mr. Johnson on Wednesday if I do not go on to York that day.
April 15.Mr. Adamson called for me at church time, and we proceeded a short distance and entered St. Nicholas' church. He ordered an officer to take me to what he calledthe mansion houseand I was led along the aisles to a place enclosed by an iron railing and showed a seat. In looking about me I saw a large organ over the door I had entered, and in front of this were seated many children, the lasses in white, the lads in blue. An immense painting of the Lord's Supper filled the end opposite the entrance, and the large Gothic windows were brilliant with highly colored glass. A few minutes passed, when a long train of office bearers and the magistrates of the town, headed by the mayor, came in procession and enteredthe mansion housealso; a gentleman at my elbow rose and bowed to these and I followed his example; I discovered then that I was seated in the most honorable place. The service and sermon were long and tedious; often to myself I said, "Why is not Sydney Smith here?" Being in church I sat patiently, but I must say I thought the priest uncommonly stupid. Home to luncheon and afterwards went to Heath, the painter,[121]who with his wife received me with extreme kindness. He showed me many sketches, a number of which were humorous. He likes Newcastle better than Edinburgh, and I would not give an hour at Edinburgh, especially were I with friend Lizars, his wife, and sister, for a year here. Somuch for difference of taste.—I have just returned from old Bewick's. We had a great deal of conversation, all tending towards Natural History; other guests came in as the evening fell, and politics and religion were touched upon. Whilst this was going on old Bewick sat silent chewing his tobacco; the son, too, remained quiet, but the eldest daughter, who sat next to me, was very interesting, and to my surprise resembles my kind friend Hannah Rathbone so much, that I frequently felt as if Miss Hannah, with her black eyes and slender figure, were beside me. I was invited to breakfast to-morrow at eight with Mr. Bewick to see the old gentleman at work.
April 16.I breakfasted with old Bewick this morning quitesans cérémonie, and then the old man set to work to show me how simple it was tocut wood! But cutting wood as he did is no joke; he did it with as much ease as I can feather a bird; he made all his tools, which are delicate and very beautiful, and his artist shop was clean and attractive. Later I went with Mr. Plummer, the officiating American consul at this place, to the court-rooms, and Merchant Coffee House, also to a new fish market, small and of a half-moon form, contiguous to the river, that I have forgotten to say is as dirty and muddy as an alligator hole. The coal boats were moving down by hundreds, with only one oar and a steerer, to each of which I saw three men. We then went to the Literary and Philosophical Society rooms; the library is a fine, large room with many books—the museum small, but in neat order, and well supplied with British specimens. Since then I have been showing my drawings to at least two hundred persons who called at my lodgings. I was especially struck with a young lady who came with her brother. I saw from my window a groom walking three fine horses to and fro, and almost immediately the lady and gentleman entered, whip in hand, and spurred like fighting-cocks; the lady, with a beaver and black silk neckerchief, came in first and alone,holding up with both hands her voluminous blue riding-habit, and with atonvery unbecoming her fine eyes and sweet face. She bowed carelessly, and said: "Compliments, sir;" and perceiving how much value she put on herself, I gave her the best seat in the room. For some time she sat without a word; when her brother began to put questions, however, she did also, and so fast and so searchingly that I thought themEnvoies Extraordinairesfrom either Temminck or Cuvier. Mr. Adamson, who sat by all the time, praised me, when they had gone, for my patience, and took me home to dine with himen famille. A person (a glazier, I suppose), after seeing about a hundred pictures, asked me if I did not want glass and frames for them. How I wish I was in America's dark woods, admiring God's works in all their beautiful ways.
April 17.Whilst I was lying awake this morning waiting for it to get light, I presently recollected I was in Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and recalled the name of Smollett, no mean man, by the bye, and remembered his eulogium of the extraordinary fine view he obtained when travelling on foot from London to this place, looking up the Tyne from Isbet Hill, and I said, "If Smollett admired the prospect, I can too," and leaped from my bed as a hare from his form on newly ploughed ground at the sound of the sportsman's bugle, or the sight of the swift greyhound. I ran downstairs, out-of-doors, and over the Tyne, as if indeed a pack of jackals had been after me. Two miles is nothing to me, and I ascended the hill where poor Isbet, deluded by a wretched woman, for her sake robbed the mail, and afterwards suffered death on a gibbet; and saw—the sea! Far and wide it extended; the Tyne led to it, with its many boats with their coaly burdens. Up the river the view was indeed enchanting; the undulating meadows sloped gently to the water's edge on either side, and the Larks that sprang up before me, welcoming the sun's rise, animated my thoughts so muchthat I felt tears trickling down my cheeks as I gave praise to the God who gave life to all these in a day. There was a dew on the ground, the bees were gathering honey from the tiniest flowerets, and here and there the Blackbird so shy sought for a fibrous root to entwine his solid nest of clay. Lapwings, like butterflies of a larger size, passed wheeling and tumbling over me through the air, and had not the dense smoke from a thousand engines disturbed the peaceful harmony of Nature, I might have been there still, longing for my Lucy to partake of the pleasure with me. But the smoke recalled me to my work, and I turned towards Newcastle. So are all transient pleasures followed by sorrows, except those emanating from the adoration of the Supreme Being. It was still far from breakfast time; I recrossed the Tyne and ascended the east bank for a couple of miles before returning to my lodgings. The morning afterward was spent as usual. I mean, holding up drawings to the company that came in good numbers.Morninghere is the time from ten to five, and I am told that in London it sometimes lengthens to eight of the evening as we term it. Among these visitors was a Mr. Donkin, who remained alone with me when the others had left, and we had some conversation; he is an advocate, or, as I would call it, a chancellor. He asked me to take a bachelor's dinner with him at five; I accepted, and he then proposed we should drive out and see a house he was building two miles in the country. I again found myself among the rolling hills, and we soon reached his place. I found a beautiful, low house of stone, erected in the simplest style imaginable, but so well arranged and so convenient that I felt satisfied he was a man of taste as well as wealth. Garden, grounds, all was in perfect harmony, and the distant views up and down the river, the fine woods and castle, all came in place,—not to satiate the eye, but to induce it to search for further beauties. On returning to town Mr. Donkinshowed me the old mansion where poor Charles the First was delivered up to be beheaded. He could have escaped through a conduit to the river, where a boat was waiting, but the conduit was all darkness and his heart failed him. Now I should say that he had no heart, and was very unfit for a king. At Mr. Donkin's house I was presented to his partners, and we had a good dinner; the conversation ran much on politics, and they supported the King and Mr. Canning. I left early, as I had promised to take a cup of tea with old Bewick. The old gentleman was seated as usual with his night-cap on, and his tobacco pouch in one hand ready to open; his countenance beamed with pleasure as I shook hands with him. "I could not bear the idea of your going off without telling you in written words what I think of your 'Birds of America;' here it is in black and white, and make whatever use you may of it, if it be of use at all," he said, and put an unsealed letter in my hand. We chatted away on natural-history subjects, and he would now and then exclaim: "Oh that I was young[122]again! I would go to America. What a country it will be." "It is now, Mr. Bewick," I would retort, and then we went on. The young ladies enjoyed the sight and remarked that for years their father had not had such a flow of spirits.
April 19.This morning I paid a visit of farewell to Mr. Bewick and his family; as we parted he held my hand closely and repeated three times, "God preserve you." I looked at him in such a manner that I am sure he understood I could not speak. I walked slowly down the hilly lane, and thought of the intrinsic value of this man to the world, and compared him with Sir Walter Scott. The latter will be forever the most eminent in station, being undoubtedly the most learned and most brilliant of the two; but Thomas Bewick is a son of Nature. Naturealone has reared him under her peaceful care, and he in gratitude of heart has copied one department of her works that must stand unrivalled forever; I say "forever" because imitators have only a share of real merit, compared with inventors, and Thomas Bewick is an inventor, andthe first wood-cutter in the world! These words, "first wood-cutter" would, I dare say, raise the ire of many of our hearty squatters, who, no doubt, on hearing me express myself so strongly, would take the axe, and fell down an enormous tree whilst talking about it; but the moment I would explain to them that each of their chips would produce under his chisel a mass of beauties, the good fellows would respect him quite as much as I do. My room was filled all day with people to see my works andmewhom some one had said resembled in physiognomy Napoleon of France. Strange simile this, but I care not whom I resemble, if it be only in looks, if my heart preserves the love of the truth.
Saturday, April 21.I am tired out holding up drawings, I may say, all day; but have been rewarded by an addition of five subscribers to my work. Am off to-morrow to York. God bless thee, my Lucy.
York, Sunday, April 22, 1827.Left Newcastle at eight; the weather cold and disagreeable, still I preferred a seat on top to view the country. Passed through Durham, a pretty little town with a handsome castle and cathedral, planted on an elevated peninsula formed by a turn of the river Wear, and may be seen for many miles. It is a rolling country, and the river wound about among the hills; we crossed it three times on stone bridges. Darlington, where we changed horses, is a neat, small place, supported by a set of very industrious Quakers; much table linen is manufactured here. As we approached York the woods became richer and handsomer, and trees were dispersed all over the country; it looked once more like England, and the hedges reminded me of those about "Green Bank." They were larger and less trimmed than in Scotland. Isaw York Minster six or seven miles before reaching the town, that is entered by old gates. The streets are disgustingly crooked and narrow, and crossed like the burrows of a rabbit-warren. I was put down at the Black Swan. Though the coach was full, not a word had been spoken except an occasional oath at the weather, which was indeed very cold; and I, with all the other passengers, went at once to the fires. Anxious to find lodgingsnotat the Black Swan, I went to Rev. Wm. Turner, son of a gentleman I had met at Newcastle, for information. His father had prepared him for my visit at my request, and I was soon installed at Mrs. Pulleyn's in Blake Street. My present landlady's weight, in ratio with that of her husband, is as one pound avoirdupois to one ounce apothecary! She looks like a round of beef, he like a farthing candle. Oh that I were in Louisiana, strolling about the woods, looking in the gigantic poplars for new birds and new flowers!
April 23, Monday.The weather looked more like approaching winter than spring; indeed snow fell at short intervals, and it rained, and was extremely cold and misty. Notwithstanding the disagreeable temperature, I have walked a good deal. I delivered my letters as early as propriety would allow, but found no one in; at least I was told so, for beyond that I cannot say with any degree of accuracy I fear. The Rev. Mr. Turner called with the curator of the Museum, to whom I showed some drawings. After my dinner, eatensolus, I went out again; the Minster is undoubtedly the finest piece of ancient architecture I have seen since I was in France, if my recollection serves me. I walked round and round it for a long time, examining its height, form, composition, and details, until my neck ached. The details are wonderful indeed,—all cut of the same stone that forms the mass outwardly. Leaving it and going without caring about my course, I found myself in front of an ancient castle,[123]standing on a mound,covered with dark ivy, fissured by time and menacing its neighborhood with an appearance of all tumbling down at no remote period. I turned east and came to a pretty little stream called the Ouse, over which I threw several pebbles by way of exercise. On the west bank I found a fine walk, planted with the only trees of size I have seen in this country; it extended about half a mile. Looking up the stream a bridge of fine stone is seen, and on the opposite shores many steam mills were in operation. I followed down this mighty stream till the road gave out, and, the grass being very wet and the rain falling heavily, I returned to my rooms. York is much cleaner than Newcastle, and I remarked more Quakers; but alas! how far both these towns are below fair Edinburgh. The houses here are low, covered with tiles, and sombre-looking. No birds have I seen except Jackdaws and Rooks. To my surprise my host waited upon me at supper; when he enters my room I think of Scroggins' ghost. I have spent my evening reading "Blackwood's Magazine."
April 24.How doleful has this day been to me! It pleased to rain, and to snow, and to blow cold all day. I called on Mr. Phillips, the curator of the Museum, and he assured me that the society was too poor to purchase my work. I spent the evening by invitation at the Rev. Wm. Turner's in company with four other gentlemen. Politics and emancipation were the chief topics of conversation. How much more good would the English do by revising their own intricate laws, and improving the condition of their poor, than by troubling themselves and their distant friends with what does not concern them. I feel nearly determined to push off to-morrow, and yet it would not do; I may be wrong, and to-morrow may be fairer to me in every way; but this "hope deferred" is a very fatiguing science to study. I could never make up my mind to live and die in England whilst the sweet-scented jessamine and the magnolias flourish so purely in mynative land, and the air vibrates with the songs of the sweet birds.
April 25.I went out of the house pretty soon this morning; it was cold and blowing a strong breeze. I pushed towards the river with an idea of following it downwards two hours by my watch, but as I walked along I saw a large flock of Starlings, at a time when I thought all birds were paired, and watched their motions for some time, and thereby drew the following conclusion, namely: that the bird commonly called the Meadow Lark with us is more nearly related to the Starling of this country than to any other bird. I was particularly surprised that a low note, resembling the noise made by a wheel not well greased, was precisely the same in both, that the style of their walk and gait was also precisely alike, and that inshortflights the movement of the wings had the same tremulous action before they alighted. Later I had visitors to see my pictures, possibly fifty or more. It has rained and snowed to-day, and I feel as dull as a Martin surprised by the weather. It will be strange if York gives me no subscribers, when I had eight at Newcastle. Mr. P—— called and told me it would be well for me to call personally on the nobility and gentry in the neighborhood and take some drawings with me. I thanked him, but told him that my standing in society did not admit of such conduct, and that although there were lords in England, we of American blood think ourselves their equals. He laughed, and said I was not as much of a Frenchman as I looked.
April 26.I have just returned from a long walk out of town, on the road toward Newcastle. The evening was calm, and the sunset clear. At such an hour how often have I walked with my Lucy along the banks of the Schuylkill, Perkiomen Creek, the Ohio River, or through the fragrant woods of Louisiana; how often have we stopped short to admire the works of the Creator; how often have we been delighted at hearing the musical notes of the timidWood Thrush, that appeared to give her farewell melody to the disappearing day! We have looked at the glittering fire-fly, heard the Whip-poor-will, and seen the vigilant Owl preparing to search field and forest! Here the scene was not quite so pleasing, though its charms brought youth and happiness to my recollection. One or two Warblers perched on the eglantine, almost blooming, and gave their little powers full vent. The shrill notes of Thrushes (not ours) came from afar, and many Rooks with loaded bills were making fast their way towards the nests that contained their nearly half-grown offspring. The cattle were treading heavily towards their pens, and the sheep gathered to the lee of each protecting hedge. To-day have I had a great number of visitors, and three subscribers.
April 27.A long walk early, and then many visitors, Mr. Vernon[124]among them, who subscribed for my work. All sorts of people come. If Matthews the comic were now and then to present himself at my levees, how he would act the scenes over. I am quite worn out; I think sometimes my poor arms will give up their functions before I secure five hundred subscribers.
Saturday, 28th.During my early walk along the Ouse I saw a large butterfly, quite new to me, and attempted to procure it with a stroke of my cane; but as I whirled it round, off went the scabbard into the river, more than half across, and I stood with a naked small sword as if waiting for a duel. I would have swam out for it, but that there were other pedestrians; so a man in a boat brought it to me for sixpence. I have had a great deal of company, and five subscribers. Mr. Wright took me all over the Minster, and also on the roof. We had a good spy-glass, and I had an astonishing view of the spacious vales that surround the tile-covered city of York. I could easily follow the old walls of defence. It made me giddy to look directly down, as a great height is always unpleasant to me.Now I have packed up, paid an enormous bill to my landlady.
Leeds, Sunday, April 28.The town of Leeds is much superior to anything I have seen since Edinburgh, and I have been walking till I feel quite exhausted. I breakfasted in York at five this morning; the coach did not start till six, so I took my refreshing walk along the Ouse. The weather was extremely pleasant; I rode outside, but the scenery was little varied, almost uniformly level, well cultivated, but poor as to soil. I saw some "game" as every bird is called here. I was amused to see the great interest which was excited by a covey of Partridges. What would be said to a gang of Wild Turkeys,—several hundred trotting along a sand-bar of the Upper Mississippi? I reached Leeds at half-past nine, distant from York, I believe, twenty-six miles. I found lodgings at once at 39 Albion Street, and then started with my letters.
April 30.Were I to conclude from first appearances as to the amount of success I may expect here, compared with York, by the difference of attention paid me at both places so soon after my arrival, I should certainly expect much more here; for no sooner was breakfast over than Mr. Atkinson called, to be followed by Mr. George and many others, among them a good ornithologist,[125]—not acloset naturalist, but a real true-blue, who goes out at night and watches Owls and Night-jars and Water-fowl to some purpose, and who knows more about these things than any other man I have met in Europe. This evening I took a long walk by a small stream, and as soon as out of sight undressed and took a dive smack across the creek; the water was so extremely cold that I performed the same feat back again and dressed in a hurry; my flesh was already quite purple. Following the stream I found some gentlemen catching minnows with as much anxiety as if large trout, playing the little things with beautiful lines and wheels.Parallel to this stream is a canal; the adjacent country is rolling, with a number of fine country-seats. I wish I had some one to go to in the evenings like friend Lizars.
May 1, 1827.This is the day on which last year I left my Lucy and my boys with intention to sail for Europe. How uncertain my hopes at that time were as to the final results of my voyage,—about to leave a country where most of my life had been spent devoted to the study of Nature, to enter one wholly unknown to me, without a friend, nay, not an acquaintance in it. Until I reached Edinburgh I despaired of success; the publication of a work of enormous expense, and the length of time it must necessarily take; to accomplish the whole has been sufficient to keep my spirits low, I assure thee. Now I feel like beginning a New Year. My work is about to be known, I have made a number of valuable and kind friends, I have been received by men of science on friendly terms, and now I have a hope of success if I continue to be honest, industrious, and consistent. My pecuniary means are slender, but I hope to keep afloat, for my tastes are simple; if only I can succeed in rendering thee and our sons happy, not a moment of sorrow or discomfort shall I regret.
May 2.Mr. George called very early, and said that his colleague, the Secretary of the Literary and Philosophical Society, would call and subscribe, and he has done so. I think I must tell thee how every one stares when they read on the first engraving that I present for their inspection this name: "The Bonaparte Fly-catcher"—the very bird I was anxious to name the "Rathbone Fly-catcher" in honor of my excellent friend "Lady" Rathbone, but who refused to accept this little mark of my gratitude. I afterwards meant to call it after thee, but did not, because the world is so strangely composed just now that I feared it would be thought childish; so I concluded to call it after my friend Charles Bonaparte. Every one is struck by the name, so explanations take place, and the goodpeople of England will know him as a great naturalist, and my friend. I intend to name, one after another, every one of my new birds, either for some naturalist deserving this honor, or through a wish to return my thanks for kindness rendered me. Many persons have called, quite a large party at one time, led by Lady B——. I am sorry to say I find it generally more difficult to please this class of persons than others, and I feel in consequence more reserved in their presence, I can scarcely say why. I walked out this evening to see Kirkstall Abbey, or better say the ruins of that ancient edifice. It is about three miles out of Leeds and is worthy the attention of every traveller. It is situated on the banks of the little river Ayre, the same I bathed in, and is extremely romantic in its appearance, covered with ivy, and having sizable trees about and amongst its walls. The entrance is defended by a board on which is painted: "Whoever enters these ruins, or damages them in the least, will be prosecuted with all the rigor of the law." I did not transgress, and soon became very cautious of my steps, for immediately after, a second board assured every one that spring-guns and steel-traps are about the gardens. However, no entreaty having been expressed to prevent me from sketching the whole, I did so on the back of one of my cards for thee. From that spot I heard a Cuckoo cry, for I do not, like the English, call it singing. I attempted to approach the bird, but in vain; I believe I might be more successful in holding a large Alligator by the tail. Many people speak in raptures of the sweet voice of the Cuckoo, and the same people tell me in cold blood that we have no birds that can sing in America. I wish they had a chance to judge of the powers of the Mock-bird, the Red Thrush, the Cat-bird, the Oriole, the Indigo Bunting, and even the Whip-poor-will. What would they say of a half-million of Robins about to take their departure for the North, making our woods fairly tremble with melodious harmony? But these pleasures arenot to be enjoyed in manufacturing towns like Leeds and Manchester; neither can any one praise a bird who sings by tuition, like a pupil of Mozart, as a few Linnets and Starlings do, and that no doubt are here taken as the foundation stone of the singing powers allotted to European birds generally. Well, is not this a long digression for thee? I dare say thou art fatigued enough at it, and so am I.