The very next day Audubon changed his plans and sailed up the Hudson to Albany, where he hoped to meet De Witt Clinton, then at the height of his fame, who in the course of his great undertakings had found time to write letters on the natural history and antiquities of his State, and Dr. Beck, the botanist. Failing to find either at home, Audubon was compelled by the depleted state of his pocketbook to give up his plan of visiting Boston, and being determined to see Niagara Falls, he took passage on a canal boat to Buffalo instead. The Falls were reached on the 24th of August, and it was then, on recording his name at an hotel, that Audubon wrote underneath: "Who, like Wilson, will ramble, but never, like that great man, die under the lash of a bookseller."[314] Upon his first view of the Falls he was satisfied that Niagara never had been and never could be painted. He wanted to cross the bridge at Goat Island but was deterred by the necessity of economy. Visitors it seems, had already learned to venture under a small section of the American Falls, and Audubon said that while looking through the falling sheet of water, "at their feet thousands of eels were lying side by side, trying vainly to ascend the torrent." After strolling through the village to find some bread and milk, the naturalist recorded that he ate a good dinner for twelve cents, and that he went to bed "thinking of Franklin eating his roll in the streets of Philadelphia, of Goldsmith traveling by the aid of his musical powers, and of other great men who had worked their way through hardships and difficulties to fame, and fell asleep, hoping, by persevering industry, to make a name for himself among his countrymen."
The schooner from Buffalo to Erie, Pennsylvania, on which Audubon had taken deck passage, as he was unable to afford a berth in the cabin, was caught in a violent gale on the way and was obliged to anchor in the harbor of Presque Isle. "It was on the 29th of August, 1824," his diary reads, "and never shall I forget that morning." Captain Judd, of the United States Navy, had sent a gig with six men to its relief, and "my drawings," he continues, "were put into the boat with the greatest care. We shifted into it, and seated ourselves according to direction. Our brave fellows pulled hard, and every moment brought us nearer the American shore; I leaped upon it with elated heart. My drawings were safely landed, and for anything else I cared little at the moment."
At this point Audubon set out with a fellow traveler, who was also an artist, for Meadville, Pennsylvania. The earliest version of his journal[315] which gives an account of this experience reads as follows:
On the shore of upper Canada, my money was stolen. The thief, perhaps, imagined it was of little importance to a naturalist. To repine at what could not be helped would have been unmanly. I felt satisfied Providence had relief in store. Seven dollars and a half were left to us, two persons, 1500 miles from home, at the entrance of Presque-Isle Harbor.
Five dollars was paid to their driver, and when they reached Meadville, and entered J. E. Smith's "Traveler's Rest," they had but one hundred and fifty cents between them. No time was to be lost, and Audubon at once started out with his portfolio and his artist friend to look for work:
I walked up the Main Street, looking for heads, till I saw a Hollander gentleman in a store, who looked as if he might want a sketch. I begged him to allow me to sit down. This granted, I remained perfectly silent till he very soon asked: "What is in that portfolio"? This sounded well; I opened it. He complimented me on my drawings of birds and flowers. Showing him a portrait of my Best Friend, I asked him if he would like one of himself. He said "Yes, and I will exert myself to gain as many more customers as I can."
According to a story current at Meadville long after the event Audubon made the acquaintance of Mr. Benedict, a merchant, lately come from New Haven, whose attractive daughter, named Jennett,[316] was then one and twenty; his family lived at the village tavern, called the "Torbett House," in which Mr. Augustus Colson had a store. It was Mr. Colson, to whom Audubon probably refers, who responded generously to his appeal for work, and called in a number of his young friends as possible patrons. Among them was Miss Jennett Benedict, and the naturalist, attracted by her agreeable manners and pleasing appearance, asked permission to make a portrait-sketch, saying that he would pay for the privilege by presenting her with a copy. This was evidently good business enterprise, for, according to the story, a grain bin in the Colson store was soon converted into a studio, and Audubon was rewarded by a number of sitters. Here is his account from the record just quoted:
Next day I entered the artist's room, by crazy steps of the store-garret; four windows faced each other at right angles; in a corner was a cat nursing, among rags for a paper-mill; hogsheads of oats, Dutch toys on the floor, a large drum, a bassoon, fur caps along the walls, a hammock and rolls of leather. Closing the extra windows with blankets, I procured a painter's light.
A young man sat to try my skill; his phiz was approved; then the merchant; the room became crowded. In the evening I joined him in music on the flute and violin. My fellow traveller also had made two sketches. We wrote a page or two in our journals, and went to rest.
The next day was spent as yesterday. Our pockets replenished, we walked to Pittsburgh in two days.