At the end of 1853 Ida Pfeiffer sailed to Panama, and from thence to the Peruvian coast. From Callao she betook herself to Lima, with the intention of crossing the Cordilleras, and proceeding to Loretto, on the Amazon, and thus gaining the eastern coast of South America. The revolution, however, which had just broken out in Peru, made the land unsafe, and compelled our traveler to try and cross the Cordilleras at another point. She returned, accordingly, to Ecuador, and in March, 1854, began her toilsome passage across the mountains. She crossed the chain in the immediate neighborhood of Chimborazo, came to the elevated plateau of Ambato and Tacunga, and witnessed the rare spectacle of an eruption of the volcano Cotopaxi—a sight for which she was afterward envied by Alexander von Humboldt. On reaching Quito on the 4th of April, she did not, unfortunately, find the assistance she had expected in the shape of several trustworthy guides to the Amazon. She therefore gave up her plan of embarking on that river, and had to repeat her wearisome march across the Cordilleras. In the neighborhood of Guayaquil she twice stood in imminent danger of being killed—first by a fall from her mule, and then from an immersion in the River Guaya, which abounds in caymans. Her companions wished her to perish, and did not render the slightest assistance. Deeply disgusted at their inhumanity, she turned her back upon Spanish South America, betook herself by sea to Panama, and at the end of May crossed the Isthmus.
From Aspinwall she sailed to New Orleans, remaining there till the 30th of June; then she ascended the Mississippi to Napoleon, and the Arkansas as far as Fort Smith. Her projected visit to the Cherokee Indians had to be abandoned, on account of a renewed and violent attack of the Sumatra fever. Returning to the Mississippi, she reached St. Louis on the 14th of July, and paid a visit to the Baden democrat Hecker, who had established himself in the neighborhood of Lebanon. Then she turned northward toward St. Paul and the Falls of St. Anthony, proceeded to Chicago, and thus came to the great lakes and to the Falls of Niagara. After an excursion into Canada, she staid for some time in New York, Boston, and other cities, then went on board a steamer, and, after a passage of ten days, landed in England, at Liverpool, on the 21st of November, 1854.
To this great voyage round the world she added a little supplement, by paying a visit to her son, who was residing at San Miguel, in the Azores. It was not until May, 1855, that she returned to Vienna, by way of Lisbon, Southampton, and London.
The specimens and the ethnographical objects collected by Ida Pfeiffer were for the most part deposited in the British Museum and in the Imperial Cabinets in Vienna. Alexander von Humboldt and Carl Ritter, in Berlin, took great interest in the efforts of Ida Pfeiffer, and Humboldt especially rewarded her with the warmest praise for her energy and perseverance. At the request of these two eminent men, the Geographical Society of Berlin elected Ida Pfeiffer an honorary member, and the King of Prussia awarded her the gold medal for arts and sciences. In Vienna the expressions of approval were much more sparing, probably according to the old rule that no prophet is regarded in his own country.
The brave traveler’s journal again appeared in Vienna in 1856, under the title, “My Second Journey round the World.”
After each of her former voyages, Ida Pfeiffer had for a time cherished the idea of retiring from future enterprises, and living in the memory of the past. But after the second journey round the world, which resulted entirely to her satisfaction, no such ideas seem to have troubled her. Before she had even finished arranging her cabinet of specimens and superintending the publication of her book, she already conceived the plan of exploring Madagascar, and was not to be dissuaded from her purpose even by the representations of Alexander von Humboldt, who proposed various other plans for her consideration.
The farther fortunes of Ida Pfeiffer will be found chronicled in the accompanying journal of her voyage to Madagascar, and, with the communication of her son, Mr. Oscar Pfeiffer, tell the story of her sufferings and death. But, before we enter upon the last act of her toilsome and instructive career, it will be well to say a few words concerning the character of our traveler.
Ida Pfeiffer did not give those who saw her the impression of an emancipated, strong-minded, or masculine woman. On the contrary, she was so simple and downright in word and thought, that those who did not know her had some difficulty in getting at the depth of her knowledge and experience. In her whole appearance and manners there was a quiet staidness that seemed to indicate a practical housewife, with no enthusiastic thought beyond her domestic concerns. Many people were accordingly premature in their judgment concerning Ida Pfeiffer, and felt inclined to ascribe her passion for traveling to mere inquisitive restlessness. This supposition was, however, completely negatived by a leading trait in Ida Pfeiffer’s character, namely, a total absence of any thing like prying curiosity. In proportion as her whole existence had been troubled, was her appearance quiet and sedate.
The sharpest observer would fail to detect in her any tendency to push herself forward, or to interfere in matters not within her sphere. Serious, silent, and reserved, she presented few of the agreeable features of her mind to people with whom she was imperfectly acquainted.
But those who succeeded in gaining her intimacy could not fail to recognize under this unpretending exterior the qualities which make a remarkable woman. Strength of purpose, firmness of character, sometimes amounting almost to obstinacy, were quickly discernible in certain favorite expressions of hers. If we add to these gifts an amount of personal courage rarely found in a woman, indifference to physical pain and to the ordinary conveniences of life, and, moreover, the never-ceasing desire to add something to the stock of human knowledge, it will be allowed that she possessed the qualities with which success is achieved in the world. The value of these gifts was heightened in Ida Pfeiffer by a strict regard for truth and strong sense of conscientious responsibility, and a love of right and justice. She never told any thing that had not happened exactly as she chronicled it, and never made a promise which she did not keep. She had what, in common life, we emphatically term character.