Audubon and His Journals, Volume 1

by John James Audubon

Thursday, December 21. To-day I received letters from De Witt Clinton and Thomas Sully in answer to mine in forty-two days; it seems absolutely impossible the distance should have been covered so rapidly; yet it is so, as I see by my memorandum book. I have written already in reply to Thomas Sully, promising him a copy of my first number when finished, say a month hence, with the request that he forward it, in my name, to that Institution which thought me unworthy to be a member. There is no malice in my heart, and I wish no return or acknowledgment from them. I am now determined never to be a member of that Philadelphia Society, but I still think talents, no matter how humble, should be fostered in one's own country. The weather is clear, with a sharp frost. What a number of Wild Ducks could I shoot on a morning like this, with a little powder and plenty of shot; but I had other fish to fry. I put up a beautiful male Pheasant, and outlined it on coarse gray paper to pounce it in proper position on my canvas. Sir Wm. Jardine and Mr. Selby were here drawing under my direction most of the day. My time is so taken up, and daylight so short, that though four hours is all I allow for sleep, I am behind-hand, and have engaged an amanuensis. I go out so much that I frequently dress three times a day, the greatest bore in the world to me; why I cannot dine in my blue coat as well as a black one, I cannot say, but so it seems. Mrs. Lizars came with a friend, Mr. Simpson, to invite me to a phrenological supper, Dr. Charles Fox, looking very ill, and two friends of Mr. Selby; the whole morning passed away, no canvas came for me, and I could not have left my guests to work, if it had. I looked often at the beautiful Pheasant, with longing eyes, but when the canvas came and my guests had gone, daylight went with them, so I had lost a most precious day; that is a vast deal in a man's life-glass. The supper was really a phrenological party; my head and Mr. Selby's were compared, and at twelve o'clock he and I went home together. I was glad to feel the frosty air and to see the stars. I think Mr. Selby one of those rare men that are seldom met with, and when one is found it proves how good some of our species may be. Never before did I so long for a glimpse of our rich magnolia woods; I never before felt the want of a glance at our forests as I do now; could I be there but a moment, hear the mellow Mock-bird, or the Wood-thrush, to me always so pleasing, how happy should I be; but alas! I am far from those scenes. I seem, in a measure, to have gone back to my early days of society and fine dressing, silk stockings and pumps, and all the finery with which I made a popinjay of myself in my youth.

December 22, Friday. I painted a good portion to-day though it was quite dark by three of the afternoon; how I long for the fair days of summer. My room to-day was a perfect levee; it is Mr. Audubon here, and Mr. Audubon there; I only hope they will not make a conceited fool of Mr. Audubon at last. I received every one as politely as I could, palette and brushes in hand, and conducted each in his turn to the door. I was called from my work twenty-five times, but I was nevertheless glad to see one and all. I supped with Sir William Jardine, Mr. Lizars, and Mr. Moule, Sir William's uncle, at Barry's Hotel; we talked much of fish and fishing, for we were all sportsmen. I left at midnight and found at my room a long letter from Charles Bonaparte.

Saturday, December 23. I had to grind up my own colors this morning; I detest it, it makes me hot, fretful, moody, and I am convinced has a bad effect on my mind. However, I worked closely, but the day was shockingly short; I cannot see before half-past nine, and am forced to stop at three....

The 24th and 25th I remained closely at my work painting; on the 24th my drawings were all taken down and my paintings also. I wrote to the president of the Royal Institution and presented that society with my large painting of the "Wild Turkeys." I should have hesitated about offering it had I not been assured it had some value, as Gally, the picture dealer, offered me a hundred guineas for it the previous day; and I was glad to return some acknowledgment of the politeness of the Institution in a handsome manner. My steady work brought on a bad headache, but I rose early, took a walk of many miles, and it has gone.

December 26. My steady painting, my many thoughts, and my brief nights, bring on me now every evening a weariness that I cannot surmount on command. This is, I think, the first time in my life when, if needed, I could not rouse myself from sleepiness, shake myself and be ready for action in an instant; but now I cannot do that, and I have difficulty often in keeping awake as evening comes on; this evening I had to excuse myself from a gathering at Lady Hunter's, and came home intending to go at once to bed; but I lay down on my sofa for a moment, fell asleep, and did not wake till after midnight, when I found myself both cold and hungry. I have taken some food and now will rest, though no longer sleepy, for to-morrow I go to Earl Morton's, where I wish, at least, to keep awake.

Dalmahoy, eight miles from Edinburgh, December 27, Wednesday. I am now seated at a little table in the Yellow Bedchamber at Earl Morton's, and will give an account of my day. After my breakfast, not anxious to begin another Pheasant, I did some writing and paid some visits, returned to my lodgings and packed a box for America with various gifts, some mementos I had received, and several newspapers, when Lord Morton's carriage was announced. My porte-feuille and valise were carried down, and I followed them and entered a large carriage lined with purple morocco; never was I in so comfortable a conveyance before; the ship that under easy sail glides slowly on an even sea has a more fatiguing motion; I might have been in a swinging hammock. We passed the castle, through Charlotte Square, and out on the Glasgow road for eight miles, all so swiftly that my watch had barely changed the time from one hour to another when the porter pushed open the gate of Dalmahoy. I now began to think of my meeting with the man who had been great Chamberlain to the late Queen Charlotte. I did not so much mind meeting the Countess, for I had become assured of her sweetness of disposition when we had met on previous occasions, but the Chamberlain I could not help dreading to encounter. This, however, did not prevent the carriage from proceeding smoothly round a great circle, neither did it prevent me from seeing a large, square, half Gothic building with two turrets, ornamented with great lions, and all the signs of heraldry belonging to Lord Morton. The carriage stopped, a man in livery opened the door, and I walked in, giving him my hat and gloves and my American stick (that, by the bye, never leaves me unless I leave it). Upstairs I went and into the drawing-room. The Countess rose at once and came to greet me, and then presented Lord Morton to me—yes, really not me to him; for the moment I was taken aback, I had expected something so different. I had formed an idea that the Earl was a man of great physical strength and size; instead I saw a small, slender man, tottering on his feet, weaker than a newly hatched Partridge; he welcomed me with tears in his eyes, held one of my hands and attempted speaking, which was difficult to him, the Countess meanwhile rubbing his other hand. I saw at a glance his situation and begged he would be seated, after which I was introduced to the mother of the Countess, Lady Boulcar, and I took a seat on a sofa that I thought would swallow me up, so much down swelled around me. It was a vast room, at least sixty feet long, and wide in proportion, let me say thirty feet, all hung with immense paintings on a rich purple ground; all was purple about me. The large tables were covered with books, instruments, drawing apparatus, and a telescope, with hundreds of ornaments. As I glanced at the pictures I could see the Queen of England fronting Mary of Scotland, a chamberlain here, a duke there, and in another place a beautiful head by Rembrandt. Van Dyke had not been forgotten; Claude Lorraine had some landscapes here also; while the celebrated Titian gave a lustre to the whole. I rose to take a closer view, the Countess explaining all to me, but conceive my surprise when, looking from the middle window, I saw at the horizon the castle and city of Edinburgh, a complete miniature eight miles off, a landscape of fields, water, and country between us and it. Luncheon was announced; I am sure if my friends complain that I eat but little, they must allow that I eat often; never were such lands for constant meals as England and Scotland. The Countess of Boulcar rolled Lord Morton in his castored chair, I gave my arm to Lady Morton, we crossed a large antechamber, into a dining-room quite rich in paintings, and at present with a sumptuous repast. Three gentlemen, also visitors, entered by another door,—Messrs. Hays, Ramsay, and a young clergyman whose name I forget. After luncheon my drawings were produced, the Earl was rolled into a good position for light, and my "Book of Nature" was unbuckled. I am not going to repeat praises again. The drawings seen, we adjourned to the drawing-room and the Countess begged me to give her a lesson to-morrow, which I shall most gladly do. The Countess is not exactly beautiful, but she is good-looking, with fine eyes, a brilliant complexion, and a good figure; she is a woman of superior intellect and conversation, and I should think about forty years of age; she was dressed in a rich crimson gown, and her mother in black satin. At six I re-entered the house, having taken a short walk with the gentlemen, and was shown to my room. "The yellow room," I heard the Countess say to the lackey who showed me the way. My valise had been unpacked, and all was most comfortable, and truly yellow in this superb apartment. The bed was hung with yellow of some rich material, and ornamented with yellow crowns, and was big enough for four of my size; a large sofa and large arm-chairs, all yellow, the curtains, dressing-table, all indeed was yellow, intensified by the glow of a bright wood fire. My evening toilet is never a very lengthy matter,—for in my opinion it is a vile loss of time to spend as many minutes in arranging a cravat as a hangman does in tying his knot,—and I was ready long before seven, when I again gave the Countess my arm, and Lord Morton was again rolled in, in his chair. The waiters, I think there were four, were powdered and dressed in deep red, almost maroon liveries, except the butler, who was in black, and who appeared to me to hand fresh plates continuously. After a dinner of somewhat more than an hour, the ladies retired with the Earl, and I remained with the three gentlemen to talk and drink wine. The conversation was entirely of antiquities. Mr. Hays is a deeply learned and interesting man, besides being quite an original. At the hour of ten we joined the Countess, the Earl having retired, and I have been much interested looking at the signatures of the kings of old, as well as that of Marie, Queen of Scots, and those of many other celebrated men and women, while two of the gentlemen were examining a cabinet of antique coins. The Countess looked very brilliant, being attired in white satin with a crimson turban. At midnight (coffee having been served about eleven), the ladies bid us good-night, and we sat down to talk, and drink, if we wished to, Madeira wine. What a life! I could not stand this ceremony daily, I long for the woods; but I hope this life will enable me to enjoy them more than ever at a future period, so I must bear it patiently. After a few moments I left the gentlemen, and came to my yellow room.

Thursday, December 28. Daylight came and I opened all my yellow curtains, and explored my room by daylight; and I have forgotten to tell thee that the dressing-room, with its large porcelain tub and abundance of clear water, opened from it, and was warm with crimson of the color of the Countess's turban. The chimney-piece was decorated with choice shells, and above it a painting representing Queen Mary in her youth. The house seemed very still, but after dressing I decided to go down, for the morning was clear and the air delightful. As I entered the drawing-room I saw two housemaids busily cleaning; the younger saw me first, and I heard her say, "The American gentleman is down already," when they both vanished. I went out to look about the grounds, and in about an hour was joined by the young clergyman, and a walk was immediately undertaken. The Hares started before our dogs, and passing through various woods, we came by a turn to the stables, where I saw four superbly formed Abyssinian horses, with tails reaching to the earth, and the legs of one no larger than those of an Elk. The riding-room was yet lighted, and the animals had been exercised that morning. The game-keeper was unkennelling his dogs; he showed me a large tame Fox.

Then through other woods we proceeded to the Manor, now the habitat of the great falconer John Anderson and his Hawks. He had already received orders to come to the Hall at eleven to show me these birds in their full dress. We visited next the hot-houses, where roses were blooming most sweetly, and then following a brook reached the Hall about ten. The ladies were in the drawing-room, and the Earl came in, when we went to breakfast. Neither at this meal nor at luncheon are seen any waiters. The meal over, all was bustle in the drawing-room; chalks, crayons, papers, all required was before me in a few minutes, and I began to give the Countess a most unnecessary lesson, for she drew much better than I did; but I taught her how to rub with cork, and prepare for water-color. The Earl sat by watching us, and then asked to see my drawings again. The falconer came, and I saw the Falcons ready for the chase. He held the birds on his gloved hands, with bells and hoods and crests; but the morning was not fit for a flight, so I lost that pleasure. The Countess asked for my subscription book and wrote with a steel pen, "The Countess of Morton;" she wished to pay for the first number now, but this I declined. She promised me letters for England, with which offer I was much pleased. Desiring some fresh Pheasants for my work, she immediately ordered some killed for me. After luncheon I walked out to see a herd of over a hundred brown Deer, that like sheep were feeding within a few hundred paces of the Hall. I approached quite close to them, and saw that many had shed their horns; they scampered off when they sighted me, knowing perhaps what a hunter I was! Lady Morton wished me to remain longer, but as I had promised to dine with Captain Hall I could not do so; it was therefore decided that I should return next week to spend another night and give another lesson. My ride to Edinburgh was soon over, and a letter and a book from Charles Bonaparte were at my lodgings. Captain Hall told me at dinner that he was a midshipman on board the Leander when Pierce was killed off New York, and when I was on my way from France, when our captain, seeing the British vessel, wore about round Long Island and reached New York by Hell Gate. There is a curious notice about me by Professor Wilson in "Blackwood's Magazine."

Friday, December 29. I painted all day, and did this most happily and cheerfully, for I had received two long letters from my Lucy, of October 14 and 23. The evening was spent with Captain Hall, Mr. Lizars, and his brother.

Saturday, December 30. So stormy a day that I have not been disturbed by visitors, nor have I been out, but painted all day.